“I killed a blood mist spider and took it,” Declan said, tamping down his panic as the registrar repeated the test over and over. “It attacked me in House Ariloch and I killed it.”

  “Stay.” The registrar left him there and returned a few moments later. “Rune theft is a serious issue here. We have stringent methods to detect it, ones that work well on whole runes. Less well on shards. I’ve sent for the arcanist registered to the kill and the rune.”

  Declan tried to be patient.

  He wasn’t entirely successful, but when the doors opened, it wasn’t one arcanist who came in. The first was the one he’d expected. Alistar Rush, the ArCor arcanist who told Declan he’d wounded a blood mist spider, the spider they were searching for. The red-haired man had traded his normal armor for fine silver and gold threaded leathers and a decorative belt. Behind him came an older man with white hair. His leathers were scarred patched over with silver and gold, his gaze razor sharp, his bearing more like a king than Declan believed the Crown. Behind him came four guards and a flustered woman in the same white the registrar wore.

  “Julie—” the registrar stopped and calmed herself. “Please, Lord Rush, this is a simple school matter. I’m sure President Larsen has more interesting things to show you.”

  “I was told it was a matter concerning House Rush.” He spoke slowly. “Proceed. Indeed, as you would without me, so I can measure. So I can know.”

  The registrar flinched for a moment, then steeled herself. “It’s a simple matter. Declan Thorn has been approved for membership. He possesses a strike taken from a blood mist octopus he killed in House Ariloch yesterday.”

  “Deepest congratulations,” Allister spat. “I knew it was somewhere. I didn’t know were, but so good of you to kill the dangerous blazed beast and claim the spoils. A strike. Truly deadly.”

  The registrar cleared her throat. “The problem is, Declan has no arcsoul. The only registered arcanist’s mana signature in the rune is Alisters. By admission of both, they both participated in the kill. I judge it an equal kill, and Declan’s claim valid. President Larsen?”

  “I think we’ve wasted enough time of an ArCore member on a tier zero rune,” said the black haired woman, who must have been Larsen. “Lord Rush, if you will, I’d love to show you the alchemy labs.”

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  The man hadn’t moved. The look on his face wasn’t hatred. It wasn’t personal enough for hatred. It was the same look Declan gave a particularly troublesome nail. “Did I hear correctly?”

  “Sir?” The registrar asked.

  “Did. I. Hear. Correct-ly.” Lord Rush said, keeping his face neutral. “I will admit glint travel is harsh on my bones. But I must have misheard. Equal. Alister?”

  “Father.” Alister had no time for Declan, his body tense.

  “Are you this man’s equal? Are you, the pride of House Rush, my heir, tied for ArCore leader in your class, a sixteenth generation arcanist, this man’s equal?” Lord Rush showed no emotion. No anger. No disdain, not even curiosity. “Answer me, son.”

  “No.” Alister said, his voice clear.

  “No what?”

  The red haired man met Declan’s gaze for a moment. All his pretense and pride were gone. “No. I field tier three runes plus our soul-rune. I’ve had an arcsoul for a decade. I’ve mastered three runes for direct manifestation, four weapons, armor proficience and have the third highest kill count.”

  “So.” Now Lord Rush’s attention turned back to the registrar. “In light of this information, what is your corrected judgement?”

  President Larsen steeled herself. “Lord Rush, the value of a tier zero strike—”

  “The value of a rune can be measured. It can be loaned, traded and paid,” he said in the same dismissive tone. “The value of respect is incalculable. Registrar, your correct judgement.”

  Declan had waited enough. He had listened enough and he had endured enough. But as he opened his mouth, he caught the fear on the president’s face. This was a man who could command the academy. Pride was bitter when swallowed and formed a lump in his throat.

  “I judge the only arcanist to strike the beast Alister Rush. The rune is his,” she said quietly.

  “Give it the rightful owner,” Lord Rush said.

  She handed the stone over.

  “Alister, you will bind this to your arcsoul here and now. If I do not find this rune in your possession at any point, I will personally encourage you to find it. I will personally accompany you to recover it. And I will defend the honor of House Rush with every scrap of strength I have. We do not accept our due. We demand it. President, you will come with me.” He turned and paced out, not even sparing Declan a glance.

  “Leave,” The registrar said to Alister. “ArCore or not, you have ten seconds. Leave now.”

  “I have duties.” Alister turned and paced out.

  There was nothing to say. No apology that would make right what had happened. But he wasn’t going to leave silently. “I come from Foundrytown. My pop was a workman, and his before him. We’re not nobles. We don’t have power. We don’t have a lot of rin. But they’ve never treated us the way you did today.”

  He left, heading back to House Ariloch. If they thought he’d slink home in shame, they didn’t know workmen. They didn’t know Declan. Skinner was wrong about how the academy would accept him, but he wasn’t wrong about one thing. The knowledge and power were there.

  Declan just needed to find a way to take it.