Bones snapped back together, muscles reformed, and Jenne walked off another morning of intense training. Stretching his elbow, he felt knots pop as he strolled across the bright lawn. Hanna was ahead under a tree, raking leaves into a plastic bag.

  The morning sun had finally broken through after several days of heavy fog. Hanna wasn’t the only dossi working, but they had grown accustomed to Jenne being around more often than usual.

  “Your training today was tougher than yesterday,” she said. “The boom was louder.”

  Chuckling, he leaned against the wall and watched her work. Hanna moved with surprising efficiency, raking more piles than anyone else. One of the older dossi yawned as she passed, remarking to Hanna before walking on. Once she was gone, Hanna relaxed, stepping under the tree and waving Jenne over.

  “Did you do as I asked last night?” she asked.

  “I got nothing useful,” he said. “But we shouldn’t worry. My training should be enough to win. If I lose, we’ll know for sure I’m not ready to beat Franka.”

  Hanna exhaled sharply. “Put this in your mind. I’m going along with this because you insist. If it were up to me, we’d run away tonight. I don’t care if you win or lose your contest. You’re coming with me after Friday. Have you heard?”

  “I know a few Gaverians here at the Home of Heroes. It won’t hurt to ask one of them for help. Just because Renna Sorel isn’t interested doesn’t mean others won’t be.”

  “You’re enough. You and only you. Don’t consider anyone else.”

  “Hanna, I’m confident I can beat Franka, but how can you be so sure?”

  “It’s called faith,” she replied.

  “What’s got into you, anyway?” she asked, scrutinizing him. “You sound tired.”

  Gasping, she grabbed his shoulders and searched him over. “I hope you’re not sick. Tell me you haven’t caught a cold.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, brushing her off. “I don’t think ascenders catch colds anyway.”

  “What is it, then?” She stepped back, picking up her trash bag and marching to the dustbin at the end of the lawn. Jenne tagged along, hands in his pockets.

  “Girl problems? Ashey was screaming your name this morning,” she teased, trying not to laugh.

  “You’re crazy,” he muttered.

  She dumped the bag and dusted her hands. Hanna’s mouth formed a firm line. She looked at the ground, scraping her boots in the grass.

  “Are you and Renna involved or something?” she asked.

  “What? No!” Jenne hit her lightly on the head for saying such a thing.

  A bell chimed in the distance. The Renna Dossi stood on the highest step, calling everyone together. Hanna pouted, patting Jenne on the arm.

  “You can tell me everything, you know,” she said. “Anything we can’t say here, we can talk about at the mall. So, let’s go today—during my lunch break.”

  “There’s not enough time,” he replied.

  “We’ll fly,” she said. “You can fly us there, can’t you?”

  “No, I can’t fly, and no, I don’t have anything to say. Stop paying attention to gossip.”

  “Who gave you the right to talk to your big sister like that?” She threatened to slap him with the back of her hand. They laughed it off before she ran off to join the other maids.

  The Renna Dossi had an announcement from Schemel: there was to be a small get-together at Se Fina that evening. Gaverians, Seconders, councilmen, friends, and family of ascenders would gather for the annual celebration of the one about to graduate. That meant Jenne and Hamis would be the main attraction tonight, and the dossi would help with the setup and running of the event.

  A bus arrived, and half the estate staff boarded. Hanna joined the group, arguing briefly with a girl assigned to stay behind. Schemel herself intervened, allowing Hanna to leave with the others.

  Schemel and Jenne spent the rest of the day preparing him. She washed his hair, combed it meticulously, trimmed his eyebrows, and filed his fingernails. She even asked if he wanted a piercing, which he politely declined. Schemel insisted, but Jenne was firm.

  Afterward, she asked him to follow her to the bedroom. She sat him on the bed and walked to the mirror. There, she pulled her dress over her head and dropped it on the floor. “It is a tradition to show up in our old uniform," she said, unhooking her bra. “We like to make fun of the old guard who have gotten out of shape.” She dropped her underwear on the ground and took a good look at herself in the mirror. It felt disrespectful not to stare. Though he could stand it for just about a minute before finding a thread in her blanket. He would stare at that.

  “Jenne,” she said. “Look at me.” He did and she was still naked. Schemel smiled at herself. “Don’t you like what you see? Give me a compliment.”

  “You look good, Renna,” he said.

  “I look good,” she stated. "Not too fat?"

  "No."

  “Good. That was a test. Of course, I'm not fat. I am better than good.” She sucked in air and stood on her toes. “I’m the anthem of perfection.”

  The time came when they waited for their ride. She was in her uniform. Jenne was back in his green and black after a whole day without it. His shoes were sparkling black. His shirt was stiff and sharp.

  “Are we going now?” Jenne asked.

  “We’re not going together, Love,” she said.

  “How come?”

  "If we go together, I'll steal attention away from you." She tapped her phone screen and placed it against her ear. “Talon should be here to pick me up any moment from now. About half an hour later, Jay will come for you.”

  “Jay?”

  “Yes, he’s on his way to fetch Hamis and Ashey, too.” Jenne groaned. Schemel did the same—but for a different reason.

  “Talon, I told you I was ready about ten minutes ago. Where are you?” She rolled her eyes and hung up.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Talon is doing that thing where he lies to me about something.” Her frown softened into a tired smile. “He means no harm, though.”

  A swarm of engines roared in the distance. A line of cars sped down the lonely road cutting through the Home of Heroes.

  “My ride’s here,” she said, bowing to plant a kiss on the top of Jenne’s head. “See you soon, Love.”

  The vehicles came to a stop one after another.

  “High Commander! Esteemed Lady of the Golden Sun, Schemel Solis Solaris Sorel!” a soldier yelled across the street.

  Schemel gasped so wide, she nearly swallowed Jenne whole. She ran for the stairs, screaming for them to open her gates. Arms outstretched, she reached the gates just as they swung open.

  An army blockaded the road, their vehicles a deep brown with golden rims. The soldiers beside the cars were neither clad in the Green Guard nor the Red Corps. Their shirts were amber, trousers black, brown-skinned with rich black hair and striking, colourful rhen eyes. The Gold Army had come home.

  “Archer!” Schemel exclaimed, hugging the man at the lead. “You’re home! How? You shouldn’t be here for another week!”

  “Early, Commander. We thrust ahead. Our vessel is docked with the cargo ships on the Second. We wanted to surprise you.” The man stepped back and struck a salute, stomping the ground. “The First Alangre greets the High Commander!”

  All the men stomped their feet and fired another salute. “High Commander, High Gaverian.”

  Schemel’s face warmed. The mask she usually wore cracked as a smile spread wider than normal. She shook her head slightly, trying to contain it. “Your High Commander is a hundred leagues behind you, Comrades. Archer sails so fast that news can’t catch him.”

  Archer’s hand slipped from his brow, showing a grin caught between a laugh. He seemed ready for Schemel to join in on a joke—but she didn’t. “Shall we?” she said, and they saluted once more.

  Archer whistled, and his men climbed back into their cars, speeding off toward Se Fina.

  “Hamis, Jacqolin’s nearly home,” Jenne said on the phone. Both of them erupted into shrieks, practically transforming into overexcited fan girls. Jacqolin’s arrival could solve Jenne’s problem—Ren Arson would save Blackwood in an instant.

  “We’re here,” said Hamis.

  A streak of blue cut across the road, accompanied by the hum of a small engine. Jay’s sports car screeched to a halt, flickering with sparks of blue lightning. The driver’s window slid down, and Jay waved Jenne over.

  He crammed into the back with Hamis and Ashey. Jay had a lady friend up front, absorbed in her phone. The air conditioning struggled to keep up with the heat, but Jay didn’t care. He sped on relentlessly, stopping only at the gate. “Get out,” he said.

  The three climbed out and watched him turn the car around.

  Hamis wrapped his arms around Ashey and Jenne, grinning. “Look at us—back where it all began. Me, you, and the dropout.”

  “Ugh.” Ashey peeled him off, pulling out her phone. “You guys go ahead. I’m not going to this stupid party.”

  “Uh, yes you are.” Hamis took her arm.

  “Leave me alone!” She shook herself free.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  She turned to the road, calling someone to come pick her up. After hanging up, she cringed. “Hamis.”

  “What?”

  “Can you escort me home when the driver comes?” she asked, voice soft. “I don’t want to go alone.”

  Hamis scoffed and did a small turnaround. “Come on, Jenne.” He nudged Jenne to get him moving. They assumed Ashey would join, but she didn’t. She squatted by the roadside, arms folded over her knees, head buried.

  “Hamis.”

  “Keep walking,” Hamis sang, a little too cheerfully. “She’ll come soon.”

  That was cruel. Jenne broke free from Hamis and walked back to Ashey. “Ashey, why don’t you want to come with us?”

  “So that they can make fun of me and call me names. I left Se Fina to avoid all this…” She paused, swallowing a swear word. “I’m tired of those creeps saying the same dumb things to my face over and over. Do you know the worst part? I’m not even good at regular school.”

  “What paper did you write today?”

  “History,” she sniffled. “I couldn’t get half done. I just know my mom’s going to embarrass me in front of her friends again.”

  Hamis and Jenne exchanged looks. Hamis’s shoulders relaxed after seeing Ashey’s face. Jenne hadn’t considered how humiliating it must be for her—she’d been to Se Fina more times than either of them but had never approached graduation.

  “You shouldn’t have to come,” said Jenne. “Hamis, do you have your keys? She could stay in the Villa for a while.”

  “No, I don’t want to be near here,” Ashey said. “I don’t want to hear them laugh. I don’t want to know how happy you guys are without me.”

  “Ashey, we’re going,” Hamis said firmly. “We can’t ditch the party for you. That’s just not going to happen.”

  “But I don’t want to be alone.”

  “Isse,” said Jenne, “we could ask her if she wants to keep you company.” Hamis grumbled, clearly not liking the idea, but since it came from Jenne, he reluctantly agreed.

  “Wait for us at the hut,” Hamis added. “I’ll get Isse to babysit you for the night.”

  “Stop being so mean to me.”

  “Stop being such a baby!” Hamis groaned. “God, you’re so annoying.”

  Jenne spent a minute and a half coaxing Ashey to calm down. Hamis wasn’t just another girl from school she could pick a fight with. Eventually, she barged into their villa, slammed her bedroom door shut, and they left her there.

  Everywhere else was dark, but their dining hall was alive. Rumbling laughter filled the air. Ascension pulsed quietly beneath it all. Different smells mingled but remained distinct—spiced meat, heated metals, and the faint shimmer of crafter ascension. Hamis smoothed his hair as they approached.

  “Here we go,” he muttered.

  Together they barged in, and Hamis raised his hands. “Gersa, se kir scensio! Aster, Deus, festa scensio! Al Henrikia!”

  “HENRIKIA!” roared the men, thumping tables and stomping boots.

  The room was packed—soldiers, priests, politicians, all in their uniforms. Dossi served large cups of drinks to noisy tables. Glowing crafter hexes were engraved into the tables, covered by heated metal meshes with cut bits of meat and spice sizzling on top.

  Tenrad and Schemel sat behind a table, flanked by a handful of attentive Goldies, who laughed freely between serious moments. Three large banners hung from a supporting beam: two dark violet, one silver, each inscribed in gold: In Memory of The Ascended.

  “This is him. He reads, he writes, and he’s quite a gentleman. And he’s magic.” Schemel whispered in Jenne’s ear, guiding him. “Show them your power.”

  Jenne opened his palm. A golden tree blossomed, glimmered, and withered in seconds.

  The room erupted. Men gawked, others pushed forward to get a better look. Phones appeared, capturing the spectacle. Some muttered “crazy,” others called it the sign of the end times.

  “The thirteenth wonder of the world,” one of Schemel’s friends said, his jet-black hair slicked back. “How does this happen?”

  “Innovation,” said Schemel, leading Jenne away to show him off to some other friends. Hamis was amusing another group of people, sitting at the table with his grandfather and father. Laughter erupted now and then, and Hamis grinned along.

  Father Bliss, Father Jade, and Miss Class were surrounded by curious onlookers. They asked about Jenne and Hamis’ performances during their stay. Nearby, Doctor Leonard and Mariel stood with other doctors. Mariel appeared to be arguing with them quietly. A dossi moved between tables, serving drinks and clearing empty glasses.

  A sudden crash interrupted the chatter. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” a flustered dossi stuttered, grabbing a napkin from her tray. She reached toward the soldier whose shirt she had spilled on, trying to wipe it clean.

  “It’s fine,” the soldier said, holding her hand back. “I should’ve watched where I was going. Could’ve happened to anyone.”

  He and his friends guided her to calm down. The dossi quickly turned toward the Renna Dossi, whose cold anger simmered.

  Jenne scanned the crowd for Hanna. He spotted her behind the school counter, filling glasses with ice. But the people she was with made him uneasy. One was Marissa, leaning back on a stool, sipping her drink. The other was Erisa, the Gaverian—a rare sight. All three appeared to be communicating silently. His stomach flipped. Noticing Schemel holding his hand, he gently pulled away and stepped back.

  “Chancellor,” Schemel greeted Demettle when they reached the corner of the room. “How has your evening been so far?”

  “Wonderful,” Demettle replied, smiling at Jenne. Meanwhile, his attention was on Hamis’ little sister, who Hamis had promised to send to Ashey. Isse was busy stuffing her mouth with savories, ignoring her father’s requests to slow down.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Hamis,” Jenne whispered, drawing his friend’s attention.

  “Right,” Hamis said, speaking to his little sister in their language. When Schemel heard Ashey’s name, she paused mid-conversation with Demettle.

  “My, where is that girl?” she asked. “I’ve completely forgotten about her.”

  “I’ll get her,” Isse said, springing to her feet. She stepped over a bench, took a long stride, gulped down a glass of soda, and ran off.

  “She’s here?” Schemel asked Jenne and Hamis, but neither had a chance to answer. Tenrad stood on his feet, calling for attention.

  “Thank you for coming tonight,” he said. “It warms my heart, and the hearts of all the staff at Se Fina, to see the support you have shown our two finalists.”

  “They’re the only ones you had!” someone shouted from the edge of the room, prompting laughter across the hall.

  “Right,” Tenrad said. “That being said, their dedication rivals the greatest I’ve ever seen. They are truly fine specimens, and it would be a shame one must stay behind while the other moves on. Boys, whoever takes home victory on Friday, know that there is no shame in coming out second.”

  “Are they lovers?” someone shouted. “They’ve been smiling at each other all night! Where’s the spirit of competition? I want to see rivals!”

  “The reason you don’t see competition is because there isn’t any!” Hamis bellowed. “Jenne’s been no match for me all year!”

  The soldiers loved that. They cheered his name loudly.

  “You’re going to take that?” a Goldie teased Jenne. “Come on, fire one back.”

  Jenne’s tongue dried. Trash-talking in front of a hundred people was a nightmare. “The quiet kind—those are the ones you should watch out for,” another Goldie called. “He does his talking on the battlefield.”

  “Ah,” murmured the crowd, impressed.

  “Yes, my baby isn’t used to the new faces.” Schemel hugged Jenne from behind. “Leave him alone, or you’ll have to answer to me.”

  Whistles and laughter filled the room. “Jacqolin won’t be happy,” someone shouted. “He was gone for just ten years, Renna!”

  “I found a new lover. He can marry the sea if he wants to,” Schemel answered, smirking.

  “Hey now, how can I entrust my children’s lives to a Gaverian still hiding behind his mother’s skirt?” a Goldie called, perched on a lunch table. “You slay monsters all night and still nestle at your mother’s breast come morning!”

  Jenne wanted to disappear. Ashey had been right. He kept telling himself it would end soon, but the teasing didn’t stop. Schemel, of course, was having the time of her life.

  Eventually, the crowd’s attention shifted, and Jenne returned to the table with Schemel and Helen. “Have you tried the steak, Love?” Schemel asked, holding up a piece. “Come on, open up.”

  Jenne shook his head. Schemel smiled. “There’s no need to be shy. You don’t have to care what anyone else thinks.”

  She gently opened his mouth and fed him. “You’re getting old,” Helen said, eyeing Schemel with a defeated sigh. “It’s come sooner than I expected.”

  “I’m not mentally ill,” Schemel snapped.

  “Denial. Your grandfather started trying on women’s clothes near the end. I should’ve never let him go to war.”

  “She’s definitely ill,” Mariel said. “Schemel’s just off. She’s never been stable. Why else would Grandfather have bonded with her so much?”

  “Don’t talk about your sister like that,” Helen interjected. “I’m allowed to make fun of her. You’ve not earned the right to be disrespectful.”

  “I’ve earned every right,” Helen said, glancing at the golden ring on her finger. Her older sister’s smile vanished at the sight.

  “Schemel, look who I found,” said Isse, leading Ashey. Ashey looked like she’d been holding her breath all day, waiting for rescue. Isse gently guided her to sit on the bench with the rest of the family before skipping off to her own group.

  “You’re so cold, Love. Where have you been?” Helen asked, touching Ashey on the head. She shook her head at Schemel. “Did you force her to hide in the dormitories so no one would see her?”

  “I did not,” Schemel replied coolly. “Ashamel took initiative.”

  Ashey, who had been avoiding her mother’s eyes, finally looked up, hands gripping the hem of her skirt under the table. Something was coming. Schemel rolled her eyes at the simmering fury. “Oh, do spit it out. I’d like to hear what you want to say.”

  Ashey resembled her mother now more than ever: stiff-backed, shoulders squared, face carefully emotionless but tinged with condescension. “I’m just wondering how different my life would’ve been if I had gone with Aunt Terry to Yuna. I’d have been so much happier with someone who actually knows how to be a mother. I wish Aunt Terry were my real mom.”

  Schemel folded her arms on the table and smiled. “I wonder too, Ashey. I wonder if you should’ve been born at all.”

  “You’re going straight to hell, Schemy,” Mariel said with a snort.

  “We’re already there,” Schemel replied lightly. “Are you hungry, Love?”

  “No,” Ashey muttered, her voice flat.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” Schemel snorted. “I was asking Jenne.”

  Jenne got up. “Ashey and I are going to get something to eat.”

  As they walked to the buffet, he heard Schemel speaking to Helen and Mariel about her appointment with Doctor Leonard tomorrow. Nothing slanderous about Ashey.

  Jenne grabbed a plate and served her assorted rice with salad and beef cuts. She didn’t want to sit with the others, so he led her to the end of the kitchen counter. She sat there, eating while he watched over her. Most guests weren’t thinking about Ashey—they were asking the Goldies about Jacqolin’s heroics on the Grem, about the warriors he had beaten, and the schools and churches he had built in the villages. Meanwhile, Isse peppered anyone who would listen about her mother, Eden, returning to Henrikia after nearly a decade away.

  Ashey ate too quickly and started choking. Jenne stood to fetch a bottle of water. When he returned, two Goldies were leaning over the counter, shadows falling across her eyes. She held her plate close and recoiled slightly. Her gaze swung between the two men like a pendulum.

  “You were this tall when we left,” one said, gesturing at her height. “She’s all grown up.”

  “They grow up so fast, don’t they?” the other added, measuring her again.

  Jenne handed Ashey the water. The men seemed friendly enough and didn’t mind his presence.

  “So, how come you weren’t with your friends tonight?” the first Goldie asked. Ashey’s cheeks were still stuffed with food. “Is this some kind of special uniform for new Gaverians?”

  She coughed, drank the water, thumped her chest, and cleared her throat. “I attend a regular school. This is my school uniform.”

  The Goldies looked to each other, assuming. “You are done with Se Fina, but will continue your studies at a regular school,” the first said softly. “Interesting.”

  Ashey had a spoon hovering near her mouth but couldn’t eat. Recognizing her discomfort, the Goldies excused themselves and walked away. She set her plate on another stool and folded her arms, leaning against the wall.

  Jenne asked, “Are you full?” He knew it was a silly question.

  “I’m not done with exams yet,” she muttered. “I have math tomorrow, and I haven’t studied anything. Another F for the report.”

  “I’m pretty nervous about my test, too.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “What?”

  She waved a hand at the crowd. “Everyone loves you,” she said. “You’ve had every single master rooting for you from the start. There was no way you were going to fail. Why won’t you be good at everything? Me? No one believes in me.”

  “You’ve told so many lies I don’t know where to start.”

  Ashey rolled her eyes. “It’s true. Don’t feel bad about it.”

  He offered his hand. She hesitated, then took it. Jenne led her to the counter, where he stood motionless for a moment, scanning the room.

  “Do you see that man sitting after the third pillar?” he murmured. “He and his friends are talking about Friday. They hope Hamis wins—for the sake of ‘culture.’ Gaverians have always been rhen. I wouldn’t fit in.

  “Those priests with Father Bliss? They’re asking if there isn’t some loophole to end the contest before it starts. Father Bliss keeps telling them there’s no sin in me trying to become a Gaverian. But they still say it feels wrong.

  “That councilman—the balding one, next to the man in glasses—they’re talking about how nauseated they feel whenever they see me near your mom. The one in glasses hopes she gets bored of me soon and gets rid of ‘it.’”

  Jenne’s eyes slid toward the doorway. “Those soldiers near the entrance are making up a song about me. They say an earthen Gaverian is both a victory and a defeat for Henrikia. It’d be embarrassing if I showed up on the battlefield with a shovel instead of a gun, a basket instead of a shield.”

  He actually chortled. “It’s a good song.”

  Then he gently tilted her trembling chin upward so she’d look at them properly. “Those men who came here tonight? They said they’d pay to see you take my place, because I’m shaming you by even being here. One of them said he doesn’t believe I’m an ascender at all. He thinks I’m just a dummy in a costume, a publicity stunt for Se Fina. That Renna Sorel is behind my tricks. That there’s no way I have the mental faculties to keep up with Se Fina’s education.”

  He sat her back down and crouched in front of her, gripping her hands and squeezing. His smile was wry, like his father’s rare smile.

  “How are you still smiling?” she asked. “Are you not hurt at all?”

  “Of course I am,” he said. “Sometimes I get so discouraged it makes me want to leave everything behind and run home.”

  “How come you’re so… put together?”

  “Father Bliss helped us with mental exercises. Most ascenders can hear everything around them. You should know how to live with that in a healthy way. Since I don’t know who these people are, their words carry little weight. He told us to give importance only to those directly involved in our lives—and ignore everyone else. For me, there is one voice I value above all.”

  “Whose?”

  Jenne tapped his lips. “The voice closest to me. I listen to myself. What I say matters more than the praise or slander of others.”

  “I kind of get that, but what everyone says about me is true. I’m really no good at anything. All I’m good at is—”

  Jenne put a finger to his lips, frowning. “Fury’s tongue is a blade because his words are sharp. Be careful how you speak. Spirits are around us, listening to everything we say. They’re stronger than any spell an ascender can cast. Words manifest into reality if our faith is strong enough.”

  Ashey snorted, barely containing a laugh. “It’s not a joke, Ashey. Stop condemning yourself. Even if you don’t believe me, try being a little more positive.”

  “I’m going to fail my paper tomorrow,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “We both know that’s happening.”

  “Failing your exam doesn’t matter. Failing Se Fina doesn’t matter either. What matters is how you see yourself. It’s okay to fail—but it’s not okay to see yourself as a failure.”

  “Fine,” she said. “I’m not a failure.”

  “Good.”

  “So, if my mom calls me stupid, I just tell myself I’m smart?”

  “Yes.”

  “And if someone says I’m good at nothing, I’ll tell myself I can do anything if I put my mind to it.”

  They moved on to lighter topics. “If you want, I can help you study after we get home.”

  “Will you take me to school tomorrow?” she asked. “I don’t want to go with Hamis.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “It’s like he can’t stand the sight of me,” Ashey ranted. “He probably hates me.”

  “Hamis doesn’t hate you,” Jenne said gently.

  “Please come with me. I don’t care how busy you are, just come. I’ll give you a hug if you do.”

  “Two hugs.”

  “I can give you one for free right now.” She got up and adjusted her skirt and shirt, brushing off crumbs and stretching. She opened her arms, and they stepped closer. “What am I going to do without you, Jenne? You’re like the voice inside my head that I’m always ignoring.”

  No one had told Ashey he was leaving for the south soon. He didn’t want to imagine how she’d take it. Jenne’s palms tingled with sweat as he wondered how that conversation would go. She hadn’t let go of him since they started hugging, and he was starting to choke.

  Ashey sniffed. “What’s that smell?” she said. “You smell like flowers.”

  Jenne closed his eyes, failing to resist a smile. He rested his chin on her shoulder and patted her back. “That’s magic, Ashey,” he said. “You’re smelling ascension.”

  “No way,” she whispered. “I’ve never done that before.”

  They went back home. Exhaustion had settled over the estate. With soundless steps, everyone retreated to their quarters. Jenne followed Ashey to her room, helping her go over some past questions.

  Jenne yawned as he hovered toward his bed. He hadn’t taken a bath, but who cared? Maselli and Jeromy often skipped their evening showers. Mari used to let Ezra skip a few times too—until they got older, when she had to bathe every night. She hated that.

  Jenne dropped face-first onto his bed, closed his eyes—and then shot them open. Someone was here. He sprang from his bed, crafted a blade, and skipped to the bathroom. He kicked down the door, and Hanna shrieked, jumping from behind the toilet bowl. She clapped her hands over her mouth, and Jenne screamed silently.

  “Hell!” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I dozed off!” she hissed back. “I’m sorry!”

  “What?”

  “I was waiting for you, but you took so long.”

  “What are you doing in my room, Hanna? Do you want to die?”

  Hanna shushed Jenne and fetched a note from her pocket. Jenne snatched it and glanced at it.

  Has Schemel been weird with you?

  He crumpled the paper and tossed it into the toilet bowl. She did not relent so easily. Hanna outstretched her hand, asking for his phone. She opened the Notepad app and started typing.

  I’ve heard some awful things about Schemel. I’m only trying to protect you.

  Jenne deleted her message and typed back: Stay away from Marissa. Schemel has enemies in the government.

  She frowned at him, then typed again: Has she tried to sleep with you?

  “No!” he hissed. “Please, go.”

  Hanna fumbled in her apron pocket and pulled out a black-and-gold card, handing it to Jenne. It was the same card Marissa had given him.

  I’m not going to tell anyone. Jeromy, I only asked because I care about you. Mari and Aron aren’t here, but I felt like you could at least trust me to tell me if something is going on.

  It had been just a kiss. She kissed him to make a point. Since then, she had done nothing to suggest she wanted to harm him. So why hadn’t he told anyone? If it wasn’t a big deal, why did he try so hard to forget about it? Jenne gripped his throat. His nostrils flared, sending hot air over his lips. It’s nothing. It’s just a kiss. She was upset, and I let it happen. She didn’t mean it. Everything’s fine. It’s none of your business.

  The words struck Hanna in the gut. Despite her efforts to hide it, she was hurt. Her face twitched; her eyes glistened with a sting of pain, yet she forced a thin, deceptive smile.

  “I’m begging you,” Jenne said. “Don’t tell anyone. We’re going home after Friday.”

  She brushed his hands off her shoulder but nodded in agreement. Hanna reached for the door but her hands were too weak to open it. Jenne stepped forward, swept her off her feet, and carried her to the window. He opened it to the evening wind. She clutched his shirt with her nails as he leapt out, landing on a golden ring of light. He hopped from ring to ring, descending gracefully until they reached the lawn. Hanna walked off, and Jenne returned to his room.

  Sleep had long since abandoned him. After a shower, he lay on his back, listening to the rhythm of his heart. He texted Hamis to see if he was awake. To save their home, he needed a Gaverian’s help.

  Hamis replied: Aren’t you supposed to be the chosen one? Cold feet?

  Jenne’s legs were ice.

  After dropping Ashey off the next morning, the two boys headed straight to the Home of Heroes. Their goal was to find a Gaverian willing to confront the menace of Blackwood. The list was short—three names in total.

  The first was Tenrad. Jenne already knew what to expect. When they told Tenrad why they had come, he said exactly what they anticipated: “I have sacrificed both my sons for Henrikia. I won’t give any more than that.”

  Next on the list was Jay Arson. This would be Jenne’s first visit to Jay’s home. It turned out the Gaverian had several estates, and the Home of Heroes property was empty. The servants offered to show them Jay’s apartment in Henrik City. They took the address and made their way there.

  When they reached Jay’s floor, they walked down the hallway and knocked on one solid door. A girl answered immediately.

  “Hey!” she chirped. “What are you two doing here?” Before they could reply, she pulled them into the apartment.

  She was dark-skinned and wearing an oversized t-shirt, with no pants on. Another girl followed into the kitchen, carrying a breakfast bowl. Tall, with long legs, she wore pink shorts and a white vest. Both smiled once they recognized the boys’ uniforms.

  “Want some breakfast?” the first girl asked, taking a seat at the round table. She stirred her cereal casually.

  “We would love to, but we don’t intend to stay long,” said Jenne.

  “And because it’s twelve in the afternoon,” added Hamis.

  A chuckle came from the other side of the room. A girl sat on the sofa with a remote in hand, legs crossed over the table, watching TV.

  “Are you here to see Jay?” the girl in pink asked, cereal still in her mouth.

  “Yes, please,” Jenne said. “Where is he?”

  “The door to your left,” she replied.

  “If he’s busy, we can come back later,” Jenne added politely.

  “No, go ahead,” the first girl said. “It’s not like he doesn’t know you’re here.”

  Hamis took the lead and knocked on the door. There was no response. He turned the knob, and the door swung open. Their boots crunched on the carpet, astaphite fragments glinted blue in the dark corners of the bedroom.

  A bed occupied one side of the room, two heads peeking out from under a blanket—girls who looked remarkably like the ones in the living room. Jenne didn’t dwell on the resemblance.

  Jay sat behind a dressing mirror, bare-chested, a white towel wrapped around his waist. He held a pair of tweezers over his eyes, adjusting his eyelashes. Was it customary for every Gaverian to spend an hour a day behind a mirror?

  “What do you want?” Jay asked without looking up.

  Hamis nudged Jenne forward. “Sorry for disturbing you, um… Ren Arson, Sir—”

  “Spit it out.”

  Jenne opened his mouth when the bathroom door creaked. A girl emerged, towel wrapped around her hair, completely naked underneath. They saw her first. When she realized, she seethed and retreated back into the bathroom.

  “Speak or walk out,” Jay said.

  “Blackwood,” Jenne started, but Jay raised a finger.

  He rifled around the dressing mirror, grabbed his phone, and tossed it to Hamis. Then he moved to the far end of the bedroom, pressing his back against the wall and leaning one leg up, turning his head deliberately.

  “The lighting isn’t very good,” Hamis said.

  Jay adjusted the blinds, letting light spill into the room, then struck the pose again. Hamis readied the camera when Jay paused. He shifted the towel just enough for the edge of his crotch to be visible. Jenne swallowed hard, forcing himself not to squirm in.

  “Should I hit send?” Hamis asked.

  “Add a caption—‘Morning Magic’—before you hit send.”

  Jay stared at his picture for a long moment. “Nice,” he said, his burning blue eyes locking with Jenne’s. “What about Blackwood?”

  “I want to save Blackwood,” Jenne said. “I want you to do it, in case I can’t.”

  The Gaverian’s face remained a smooth, carved mask. He turned his back on them and returned to his seat behind the dressing mirror, picking up a strand of hair and setting it back in place. His fingers lingered along the stand, contemplating which product to use.

  “What’s in it for me?” asked Jay.

  “Nothing,” Jenne said.

  “Nothing,” the Gaverian repeated. “I told Votress not to go. Did he listen? No. He wanted to be a hero—and now he’s dead. Regal, I believe, had selfish motives for heading to Blackwood. Either way, same story. Dead.”

  “Ren Regal is not dead, Sir,” Jenne interjected.

  “Are you saying you’re no better?” Hamis snapped. “You’re supposed to be almost as good as Jacqolin. If Jacqolin were here, he wouldn’t hesitate. He’d march south, grab the beast by the throat, and be done. He wouldn’t be here making excuses.”

  “Then ask him!” Jay slammed his fist into the mirror, cracking the plating behind. The girls in bed jumped, a scream echoed from the bathroom, and cereal bowls tumbled to the floor. Jay’s brows darkened, deep lines forming, and he stared at the fractured reflection instead of them.

  “Get it through your thick earthen head. I’m not an errand boy you can send off to clean up your mess. I do work that matters. Whether Blackwood lives or dies doesn’t matter to anyone. It is beneath me, and I am disgusted that you would think I would do it.”

  “There is nothing I can give you in exchange for the lives of my family,” Jenne said, his voice steady. “I pray you reconsider.”

  He only realised who the girls had reminded him of after they left. Zerah — who, in turn, bore a faint resemblance to Verimae. How difficult it must be for Zerah and her baby at a time like this. Lesley had once asked Jenne whether he’d prefer a daughter or a son. He’d said neither — he didn’t want to talk about babies with Lesley again. She liked babies more than math. That wasn’t a bad thing; he just couldn’t concentrate on his equations whenever she brought it up.

  All was quiet at the docks that late afternoon. Incoming warships rumbled as they docked, moving like living mountains, puffing smoke as thick as towers. Dock workers shouted at ship crews; massive platforms slammed into the waterfront. Goldies climbed down in numbers. Families gathered to praise their soldiers, showing patriotism and love. There was a strange kind of peace at the docks that afternoon.

  Jenne had no thoughts running through his head. He stood with his marker friend on the extended arm of a crane, hands in his pockets, staring at the infinite Ossen sea and the warships scattered across it. They sailed around islands — one of them the Midder-Lands. With a thumb he could have crushed the islands and the ships. How easy would that be?

  The largest vessel was far away, but the ascension of the man on that ship had travelled across the waters. The man’s essence made Jenne’s eyes itch and cleared his nose of mucus. As an outside observer, you might hear people speak of Jacqolin as the most powerful ascender in the world and not think much of it — but that description would be an understatement, as Jenne would soon discover.

  “Will he say yes?” Jenne asked.

  “He never says no,” Hamis replied. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to Jay. I shouldn’t have provoked him.”

  “I’m glad you did. He pointed us to the right man for the job.”

  “In case you fail.”

  “In case I fail to beat you,” Jenne said. He took in a deep breath. “Hamis.”

  “Jenne.”

  “You’re not going to throw the fight for me because of your Grem honour thing?”

  Hamis brushed the idea aside. “I thought about that. At first, I planned to go easy on you like I do in training. It’s my fault you feel you’re anywhere near my level — not to mention Votress or Regilon’s level. All those guys are far above me and they still get beaten by whatever’s down there. I need to keep you away from the fight as much as I can. Jenne, I’m going to be the one to humiliate you next.” Hamis laughed, a sad little sound. “You’re not going to the south. I am.”

  Hanna met Jenne in the maid’s laundry hall late at night. They could talk without being overheard amid the noise of the washing machines. He told her what he’d been up to, and she wasn’t happy.

  “You sound as if you’ve given up,” she said.

  “There is nothing wrong with having a contingency plan.”

  “Jeromy, you are the whole plan. We have nothing except you. Don’t you understand? Whether we win or lose doesn’t matter. You’re coming with me.”

  “Hanna, I don’t think I can leave.” He said it as she’d feared he would.

  Hanna threw up her hands in surrender. She was ready for war, and she had a strategy.

  “I’ll be at Camp Regis this Friday. The second you’re done with your contest, you come straight there. A portal to the Third opens around five in the evening every day. We’ll walk through it and find our way to Blackwood from there.” She poked her finger into his chest. “I swear, if you don’t show up, you’ll curse the day you stepped foot into this city. You don’t know me like that, so don’t try me.”