“Good.” She smiled. “We’ll start small at first. I want you to know that it might be rather painful if you try to resist or lie, so try your best to cooperate. Now, I’ve told you my name. What is yours?”

“I don’t know,” I suddenly blurted out, the words erupting before I could even think it through. “Clayton was scaring me, so I said it was Theadora, but I don’t actually remember my name.”

Lorelai paused and glanced behind her at the Dragon. That momentary look away was all it took for her power to lose control over me temporarily, and I slumped forward, breathing heavily as my head cleared from its fog. The Dragon was silent but nodded for her to continue. As soon as our eyes locked, I found myself ensnared in her spell again, losing the brief respite. There was only Lorelai Pelland.

“Can I call you Thea?” She asked me.

I nodded.

“Good. Thea, I’m twenty-two. How old are you?”

“I don’t know,” I repeated.

She frowned and shifted, grasping my shoulders and looking deeply into my eyes. Her grip on my mind somehow strengthened, surrounding me to near suffocation.

“Thea, I heard you met my friends Clay and Iris. Do you have any friends?”

Every repetition of my newly declared name sent me spiraling even further. My mouth wasn’t my own, and neither were my thoughts. She was everywhere, all around me, and somehow inside me. She took up every little space. I ground my teeth so hard together I was sure they would crack, but as I struggled against her, my vision swam with blinding pain.

“I warned you not to fight, Thea. Now, tell me. Do you have any friends?”

“I think Iris wants to be my friend,” I spit out, strained. Some part of me could hear snickering in the corner, but I could barely register it.

Lorelai grasped my arms tighter, her fingers digging uncomfortably into the tender flesh. “Thea, why did you attack the castle this morning?”

“I don’t know,” I whined.

Her magic surged around me like a vice, holding my mind into place so she could crush into it. Thousands of magical fingers poked into me. Pain exploded so violently that all I could do was whimper against it. It tore me apart from the inside out. Had the magic not been holding me into place, I was sure I would have convulsed right there on the ground from the force of it.

“I don’t know!” I screamed helplessly.

Lorelai ripped her hands back from me suddenly, turning away. I fell back, landing hard on the ground, a cold sweat spreading over my brow. My stomach lurched, and it was all I could do to lean forward in time to retch onto the floor instead of my lap. I couldn’t even bring myself to feel embarrassed. Every inch of me stung as I trembled helplessly on the ground. Lorelai handed me a small handkerchief, apologizing under her breath. I met her eyes as I took it and watched as she wiped her hand quickly under her nose as a tiny red droplet escaped.

No one in the room had moved during the assault. Each Council member looked more disinterested than the last, in fact.Clayton was the only one who had seemed to pay attention, having stepped forward slightly.

“Well?” The Dragon demanded.

“There’s nothing,” she murmured, her voice notably weaker.

“She’s lying?” Rosalia asked from House Delia’s seat.

“No,” Lorelai mumbled. Then, breathing deeply, she cleared her throat and spoke clearly. “There was nothing. As in, no memories. No childhood, no school, nothing. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. She’s telling the truth.”

The chamber erupted. Each voice of concern rose higher than the last. Some protested that they should still execute me while others argued on my behalf. Still more criticized Lorelai and her abilities. Finally, Lorelai, still subtly wiping blood from her nose, left me alone in the center of the room as she retreated to a seat next to Iris. Part of me wanted to collapse under the pain that still throbbed in my head, but I met Clayton’s eyes from across the room. They were golden, glowing brightly. Gently, he nodded up, and the implication was clear. Lifting my skirts from underneath me, I stood.

“Order!” The Dragon commanded. “Miss Pelland, was there any reason to suspect she might be a danger to us?”

Lorelai’s hands were shaking, and she grasped them together tightly. “No, Your Majesty.”

He nodded and turned his attention to me, running a hand over his thick beard as he contemplated his next action. “There is still the matter of where you came from. A girl from a dead House doesn’t just come from nowhere.”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” called a voice from the crowd. An older gentleman, well past the prime of his life, stood from the risers behind me. His clothes were simple but refined, and his face showed the lines of a full life underneath a head of white hair. The Dragon nodded at him.

“The Council acknowledges Hansel Long, patriarch of House Athene and the Royal Tutor. What insight can you provide us with, Hansel?”

“Well, I have been speculating,” he mused, stepping out of the risers onto the Council floor. “You see, the last documented member of House Hyrax was Zacharia Moore, a general killed in the early days of the Great War. Zacharia was known for celebrating war victories with particular vigor. It’s entirely possible he fathered a child we did not know about. Perhaps the girl has lived among the mortals, not getting proper training for her abilities. And without proper practice and guidance, it’s entirely possible that what we saw on the bridge was her magic literally exploding out of her. Further, it's possible that such an event created a trauma so great that it could have caused some rather extensive amnesia.”

“Zacharia Moore was a Necromancer,” Gregory of House Herea noted. “We only have historical evidence of Necromancers and Mediums descending from the God of the Dead. There’s no evidence of any being born with the telekinetic abilities she showed.”