Cries of astonishment flew around the Hall as Arraflax rose several metres into the air. A pool of deep blue light enveloped him, a shining ethereal glue holding him firmly in place. His arms and legs waved about helplessly as though he was some kind of creature that had been plucked from out of the sea.

　　The other members of the Wyse Council gawped in shock. Baron Bagley`s jowls were quivering and the floor was littered with bun remains.

　　Everybody was stunned.

　　Except Arraflax. "A cheap trick", he snarled, kicking out at the gleaming cloud of azure. "A conjuror`s gimmick. A fake illusionist`s - "

　　"Be quiet", ordered Elizabeth.

　　When Arraflax tried to speak next he discovered that his mouth was zipped tightly shut. The best he could manage was an irritated and rather angry: "Mmmmnnngg!"

　　Without taking her eyes away from him, Elizabeth destroyed the chains around her wrists, sending them slithering to the floor like coils of dead metal snakes.

　　"There is a traitor in this room", she insisted. "And I can prove it".

　　Elizabeth lowered her hands, setting Arraflax down with a bump. "And now all of you may rise".

　　Baron Bagley and Lord Vilchford stumbled to their feet as though they were being dragged, involuntarily, from their chairs.

　　The members of the Wyse Council stood gazing about the Hall with mightily confused and astounded faces. A murky, lemony, dusky gloom squeezed itself between them.

　　Elizabeth held up the three white feathers for everyone to see. "These were taken from the Vo-Hallin that rescued me", she said, in a firm, clear voice. "They have been enchanted with a Lirridian truth spell. Should anybody holding one of these feathers tell a lie then the spell will make it turn completely black".

　　She stepped forward, walked up the steps, and handed out the feathers. Baron Bagley accepted his with an air of complete and utter bemusement. Arraflax received his feather with poisonous contempt. Lord Vilchford took the third with the look of a man who was being asked to hold a live and ticking grenade.

　　"Put them behind your backs", Elizabeth instructed.

　　With extreme reluctance and rather embarrassed glances all round, the Wyse Council did as they were told. "Now tell us", Elizabeth said, facing Baron Bagley. "Are you a traitor to the Free Lands - yes or no?"

　　Baron Bagley shook his head solemnly, his cheeks wobbling like a trifle.

　　"Very well". Elizabeth turned to address Arraflax. "Are you?"

　　"Of course not!" Arraflax chafed, discovering that he was able to speak once more.

　　"And what about you?" Elizabeth said, looking finally to Lord Vilchford. "Are you a traitor - yes . . . or no?"

　　Lord Vilchford had lost all the colour in his face and was as pale as a frosty ghost. "W-why are we even d-doing this?" he hissed.

　　"Just answer the question so that we can put an end to the stupid little charade", Arraflax muttered, glowering at him as well.

　　Lord Vilchford glanced nervously about the Hall. "No", he announced, weakly. "I am n-n-n-not a traitor".

　　Arraflax stared hard at Elizabeth. "Are we done?" he asked.

　　"We are".

　　Arraflax whipped his feather out from behind him and held it aloft in full view of the Hall.

　　It remained pure white.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

　　A flick of his wrist sent the feather swishing silently away to the floor. Barnaby`s eyes followed it in dismay.

　　"And now", said Arraflax, with an oily smirk, "I believe we have some banishing to be getting on with".

　　"Not so fast", said Elizabeth. "We haven`t seen the others yet".

　　Arraflax huffed and rolled his eyes. "Show them", he ordered.

　　Baron Bagley produced a paper-white feather from behind his back and returned to his seat, looking longingly at the buns on the floor.

　　Arraflax moved to Lord Vilchford. "Yours as well", he said, bristling with impatience.

　　"B-b-but . . . this is ridiculous!" protested Lord Vilchford, still shaking. "Utter n-nonsense, like you said".

　　"Then show us", demanded Elizabeth.

　　Moodlight blazed as Lord Vilchford struck with a hostile, venomous glare. His eyes bulged, his face a vivid puce. "Oh I`ll sh-show you all right", he fumed. "I`ll show all of you!"

　　He lunged down the steps, snatching at the Omnaria on the floor. "What hope do you think the F-Free Lands have got against the Dominion?" he spat, furiously twisting and pressing anything that stuck out of the box. "You sh-should have j-joined it when you had the chance!"

　　A snowy feather hung gently in the air behind him.

　　There was a brief whir, a ticking sound and a splutter as the Omnaria switched itself on. The stone inside began to glow. Soft pulses flowed through the round glass porthole.

　　Only now the light was different. Before, in the North Star, it had been a gentle, radiant, luminous blue. But this light was a harsh and bloody red.

　　The Omnaria began to vibrate.

　　"Get away from it!" Barnaby roared.

　　A stupendous, blinding flash of power split the air, making it crackle and frazzle as the Omnaria became wreathed in long tails of distorted energy. Lord Vilchford was still holding on to the box and Elizabeth reeled as he withered away beneath the searing, fantastical force.

　　The Omnaria emitted a piercing orange beam. It shone and twisted onto a surface of space in front of her.

　　The space rippled, and began to warp.

　　The Hall was a scene of scattering bodies, Arraflax barking commands.

　　Guards rushed forwards with swords drawn, only to be beaten away by the shards of a fierce electric storm.

　　Behind that shield, the rift began to take shape. The world was opening, peeling, unravelling, transforming into something dark and otherworldly.

　　Elizabeth stood in horror as the spectral beasts materialised, a shock of pain drilling into the soft centre of her brain.

　　Penelope`s cold and sinister voice was speaking to her directly: "Don`t be afraid. Come to me. Just a few more steps and all this will soon be over".

　　The vortex began to gather pace, its outer rings rotating faster. Elizabeth felt something inside it calling her. Seeking her out, pulling her in. She could sense the power welling up within it. Needle-sharp claws tore at the space behind her eyes.

　　"I know you must hate me. But the truth is, your friends are lying. I don`t want to destroy the Free Lands - I am trying to save them".

　　Stiffly and awkwardly, as though she was being remote-controlled from somewhere else, Elizabeth began to walk towards the Omnaria.

　　Luella was screaming for her to stop.

　　"But I can`t do it without you, Elizabeth. I need you to help me bring the Free Lands under control. If their rebellion is allowed to go unpunished then others will follow and Orrica will tear itself to pieces".

　　The electric pulses defending the Omnaria opened, allowing Elizabeth to enter unscathed. She slipped inside and stood before the swirling, angry hole. It was even larger now, and the walls were dense and solid.

　　"The Dominion is the only way of securing proper order. Your father was trying to keep you from the truth, you must see that?"

　　The vortex widened, the mouth of a snake preparing to devour its prey . . .

　　Elizabeth fixed her emerald green eyes, staring deeply into it.

　　"Actually", she said, "I do".

　　A dazzling white energy flashed from her hands.

　　The rift groaned and buckled. Elizabeth sensed it begin to weaken and cast another scorching powerbolt, hurling it down into the writhing dark core below. Waves of pressure flowed back against her, resisting the onslaught with a rising force of their own.

　　Penelope`s voice was a screeching razor`s edge.

　　Elizabeth pushed it out of the way, focusing everything that she had - all of her anger, all of her pain, all her fear and her will and all her courage and determination - on a single point of space, pouring into it every last remaining ounce of strength that she had.

　　Brilliant streams of power surged into the void.

　　The hole deformed and twisted, the sides of it cracking, jagged edges shearing away . . .

　　Elizabeth could feel Penelope reaching out for her, but the force that was holding the rift together was failing. And then it ruptured. The storm centre began to collapse, falling in on itself, breaking apart with a harrowing wind.

　　Elizabeth threw herself into one final ultracharged attack, a deadly, concentrated ball of light that coursed from her fingers with tremendous, blazing fury.

　　The swollen whirlpool, paralysed and cracking, imploded then as if it was being sucked back out of the world.

　　The light from the Omnaria died.

　　Elizabeth fell to her knees, totally spent and exhausted.

　　Luella and Aelgren were the first to her side. But Elizabeth felt more lost and alone in that moment than she had ever done before. A garden of night flowers bloomed in front of her eyes, and the world around her swam and faded and went.

　　The Omnaria, now a mass of crumpled, smoking metal, had been utterly destroyed.

　　And with it had gone the only chance she had of getting home.