Over the next few days, every Transcend except for White, Gray, and Red approached Lucian. Transcend Yellow gently reminded him of her generosity in giving him extra training. Transcend Green made a friendly offer while Lucian was sweeping the corridor. He said the Greens looked forward to him joining their ranks. He also mentioned several archaeology expeditions around Volsung. If Lucian wished, he could join him and his Talents as soon as the weather permitted. Transcend Orange observed that Lucian had done well enough on the Atomicism Trial and would give him personal lessons as soon as he was ascended. Provided he opted to join the Oranges, of course.

  Transcend Gray’s disinterest was understandable, given Lucian’s performance at his Trial. Transcend Red also wasn’t surprising, because of her obvious dislike of him. Transcend White, of course, had no Talents herself, only a Psion.

  “I don’t know what I should do,” he said to Emma one day as they walked in the back courtyard.

  “I would go with the Aspect I’m most suited for, regardless of the politics behind it.”

  “That’s the thing,” Lucian said. “I don’t know what I’m most suited for. I used to think it was Psionics, but Transcend Violet seems . . . strange.” Lucian hadn’t mentioned his suspicions about what she’d done to him. It was so out there that he wasn’t sure he would be believed. “Every Transcend thinks I’m best suited for their Aspect. I mean, do you even know what you’re best at after being here for less than a year?”

  “No,” Emma admitted. “Radiance, maybe? You’ll have to choose, though, and let them know soon.”

  As the rest of the week passed, deliberations continued, and Lucian was not approached again. The ball was in his court.

  He took long walks around the island to better avoid potential confrontations. The Transcends’ overtures didn’t go unnoticed by the Novices either. Not every Transcend was as covert as Blue or Violet. Lucian noticed Damian and Rhea distancing themselves. Whispers seemed to take over any time he left a room. Talents were becoming friendlier toward him even as he felt distance building between him and the Novices.

  Everyone seemed to think an unfair exception was being made for him. Even if it wasn’t decided yet, Emma told him there were rumors that he had overdrawn for all his Trials. This was true in the case of the Binding Trial and the Gravity Trial if people were going to be nitpicky.

  Lucian tried to ignore it. There was little else he could do. Emma was the only Novice still friendly to him.

  After a few days, the Transcends were still deliberating. And then a few days became a full Volsung week. It soon became the longest the Transcends had ever dedicated to living memory. Lucian knew he was the reason. Lessons were put on hold as every day and night became a time of quiet contemplation.

  And then, on the fifteenth day, the Transcends emerged from the Spectrum Chamber. They began summoning the Novices, one by one, taking about half an hour with each to go over their results.

  Rhea was one of the first summoned. She happily announced she was being raised to the Talents. She chose to dedicate herself to the Grays, even if such a decision wasn’t necessary for another year. No sooner had she made the announcement than she joined the Talents at their table. Tradition raised an invisible wall between her and the Novices. The change was sudden, and it was clear she had long been ready for her ascension.

  The Transcends almost raised Damian, too, at least according to him. He had only failed two Trials, Gravitonics and Dynamism.

  As the days passed, Lucian only grew more nervous. They couldn’t get through all the Novices in a single day. Most, of course, failed the Trials. By the time it was Emma’s turn, only two other Talents had been raised. She received good marks for an Untested, but the Transcends said she needed more training.

  Everyone seemed to be called before Lucian. Something was wrong. That feeling was only amplified as stares and whispers followed him wherever he went.

  Eventually, they would summon him. Then, he would find out the truth. Would they raise him or not? He hadn’t chosen any of the Transcends ahead of time. Had Rhea received a similar offer she was being quiet about? Did this happen to every Talent?

  But then, one full week after the reviews began, only Lucian was left. One day, a few hours after he had gone to bed, Psion Gaius knocked on his door, his manner somber.

  “You have been summoned by the Spectrum,” he said, his voice full of gravitas. “Follow.”

  #

  The atmosphere in the Spectrum Chamber was tense—even tenser than the last time Lucian was here. The Transcends’ expressions were grave, with exhaustion written on their faces. As Lucian walked forward to the central stone dais, he saw that it was not only the Transcends that were here. Each Psion was present, too, except for Psion Yellow, whom Lucian knew to be away from the Academy. Khairu stood in her place. None of the Novices had mentioned the Psions. Something was happening. Something different.

  They had saved him for last for a reason, and he was about to find out why. The realization made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

  “Let this Trial Review begin,” Transcend White intoned. The Transcends shifted in their seats, though none looked at him directly. “Novice Lucian, before we Transcends speak, we invite you to give an account of yourself and why you feel you are ready to ascend to the rank of Talent.”

  The Transcends watched him like vultures as he cleared his throat. “It’s just that, your High Eminence. After much meditation, I’ve decided that I’m not ready to ascend—should that be the inclination of the Transcends. I respectfully ask that all such considerations be put off until next year when I’m better able to control my magic.”

  From the silence that followed, it was as if the air had gone out of the room. Lucian didn’t know how much time had passed, but just looking at all those stony expressions made him feel as if he had made a terrible mistake.

  At last, Transcend White relented and spoke. “Transcend Blue. The floor is yours.”

  Transcend Blue shifted in his seat, stroking his trim goatee. “Novice Lucian . . . I regret to inform you that you have failed my Trial. Despite an impressive performance, you overdrew. A mage’s path is one of discretion and caution. As we iterate constantly, the Path of Balance must be walked. Such reckless streaming on your part has been proven to speed up a mage’s fraying. Raising you to the mantle of Talent is a risk too grave to consider.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The words came as a blow. Even if Lucian had expected it, he hadn’t expected it to be put in such harsh terms. There was no point in defending himself.

  But there were six other Transcends who had yet to pass their judgment.

  “Transcend Gray,” Transcend White said.

  “Novice Lucian,” he began, his voice raspy, his pallor pale, “you have also failed my Trial. You streamed two different Aspects before identifying the correct one. Your Trial began promisingly enough. But a simple mistake made in ignorance almost saw you killed. You indeed wrested yourself from the situation, but fluctuations in the Ethereal Background point to overdrawing on your part.”

  “Overdrawing was better than dying,” Lucian said, unable to help himself.

  The mood in the chamber became icier, several of the Transcends shaking their heads, while Transcend Red smirked.

  Transcend Gray frowned before continuing. “If that is your belief, then you should have remained onshore. But in your pride, you deemed yourself adept enough to pass the Trial with little to no training. As such, you have failed. Not only in your failure to complete the Trial, but in your error of judgment.”

  Lucian bit his tongue. There was a moment’s pause as the Transcends regarded him severely.

  “Transcend Green?”

  Transcend Green stroked his long, white beard. Lucian relaxed, knowing there was no way he could have failed his Trial.

  “You made an impressive showing at your Radiance Trial. However, your stream was not as efficient as I would like for one of my Talents. It took you too long to find the right frequency during the radio portion. And once you did, you streamed your ether inefficiently. That only proves your inadequacy with Radiance. You have failed my Trial, though I admit you are a mage of great promise.”

  Transcend Green’s tone suggested that Lucian had wasted that promise. What had happened two weeks ago, when he had all but begged Lucian to consider the Greens? Something strange was happening. Lucian had performed as well, or even better than the other Novices at the Trial.

  “Transcend Orange,” Transcend White said.

  “You failed your written examination on the Atomicism Exam abominably,” he said. “Never have I seen a worse performance in my thirty years as a Transcend.”

  Now, how could that have been possible? Lucian had studied day and night when he wasn’t practicing the other Aspects. But questioning Transcend Orange would only make things worse. He knew that was a complete fabrication, but how could he challenge him? If this was a conspiracy, was there any point?

  Had the Transcends come to some sort of consensus, each agreeing to fail him one by one as punishment for rejecting them all? It seemed they had decided that if he hadn’t chosen any of them, then none could have him. But that didn’t explain their harshness.

  “Transcend Yellow,” Transcend White said.

  She looked at Lucian for a long time with a mournful expression, though he couldn’t help but feel as if she were toying with him. If she also denounced him, then it would all but confirm his suspicions.

  “Despite great promise,” Transcend Yellow said sorrowfully, “I regret to say that you have failed my Trial as well.”

  She paused as if allowing Lucian to respond. That slight smile she wore was simply too much to bear.

  “I did well. Anyone there could have said that. I lasted longer than either Damian or Rhea, and Rhea is a Talent now.”

  “While that is true,” Transcend Yellow said, “you would have passed if not for one thing. There are . . . certain Talents . . . who have come to me, suggesting that you asked them for outside help with your Trial. While all my Talents deny helping you, it seems you knew exactly what to expect. Indeed, you performed too perfectly. My suspicions were stoked, and at my questioning, certain Talents have admitted it.”

  “That’s a damn lie!” Lucian said. “You were the one who helped me, Transcend Yellow!”

  “Silence!” Transcend White called. Transcend Yellow recoiled as if he were a viper, her face a perfect mask of affront.

  Lucian’s face burned with anger, but there was nothing more he could say. Why would they believe him over one of their own?

  Lucian looked at Khairu, desperate enough to ask for her help, even if it was pointless. “You were there, Khairu. You led me to her office the night before the Trial. Speak in my defense!”

  She looked at the stones below. “I remember nothing of that nature.”

  He knew Khairu hated him, but to this extent? He then realized that even if she wanted to defend him, which she wouldn’t, there was no possible way she could side with him. To do so would be to defy the Transcend who was also the leader of her Aspect.

  “You will stay silent for the rest of this examination,” Transcend White finally said coldly. “Do I make myself clear, Novice?”

  It took everything he had to push down the comeback that wanted to fly from his lips. “You do. Abundantly, Your High Eminence.”

  He couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice, but already, Transcend White was moving on. “Transcend Red.”

  She gave a knowing smile, so poisonous it marred her beautiful features. “Lucian did well at my Trial. Certainly not the best, but beyond acceptable. I pass him.”

  Several of the other Transcends looked at her as if she had stepped out of line. She settled back in her seat, smiling primly, her robes and lips the color of blood.

  “Transcend Violet,” Transcend White said, “you gave Lucian his last Trial. How did he fare in Psionics?”

  Lucian only had to look at her sorrowful gaze to know that she, too, was going to fail him. “He began promisingly enough. Until his Psionic stream took things to dangerous levels. I had to step in and correct his lack of judgment.” Her face was a mask of severity. “I fail him.”

  What was the point of protesting? He was a mere Novice. What was his word against theirs? If he outed them right now about their offers, they would flat-out deny it. The truth didn’t matter here. But why were they going so far, even to the point of lying, to cast him in the worst possible light? Why not just tell him he wasn’t ready to be a Talent, something he agreed with? They could have simply failed him. Only they hadn’t.

  They had gone far beyond that.

  “As spoken by the Spectrum,” Transcend White went on, “you have failed the Talent Trials. Normally, this is where the hearing would end. But we have further business with you.” She gripped the arms of her chair and leaned forward menacingly. “Novice Lucian, your negligence is a great affront to this academy. We have seen your great potential. But that potential has corrupted your mind. Once before, we were blind to these things. Once before, we chose poorly. Our academy was broken in two, and the Mage War began. Only I, Transcend Gray, and Transcend Green remember those dark days. Far be it from us to ever repeat that tragedy.” She rose and pointed a long, gnarled finger at him, her face a storm of anger. “You are no longer a Novice of this academy. Considering what has been said here, and considering the malfeasance we’ve let slide until now, we strip you of robe, title, and spear. You are expelled forthwith from the Volsung Academy. We sentence you to exile on the Isle of Madness, where you will await transport to the prison moon of Psyche.” She sat back down, her features losing none of their intensity. “All in favor, let your voice be heard.”

  “Aye,” came the single, unified response.

  That horrifying, discordant sound was like the utterance of a demonic beast, shattering Lucian to his core. His lips moved, but no words came. He didn’t know where to begin. “Can I say nothing in my defense?”

  “This is not a trial, but a sentencing,” Transcend White said. “Your trial was every day you lived and breathed in the Academy. But now, you are to leave this place forevermore. And you are to leave immediately.”

  “Wait a minute . . .” he began. “All of you lied to me. This is a conspiracy against me!”

  But it was already too late. Psion Gaius, along with the swarthy Psion Gray and a man named Usban, grabbed hold of his arms. Others he recognized, like Psion Isaac and Talent Khairu, waited in the wings.

  “Will you come peaceably?” Psion Gaius asked.

  Lucian tried to tear himself away. “This isn’t fair. All of you are traitors! Vera was right about you!”

  He was already damned, so there was no reason he shouldn’t damn himself further. And if anything would influence them, it was that. The Transcends recognized that name because their expressions were as if he’d doused them with ice water. Even Transcend Red’s face was one of shock.

  But Transcend White’s eyes smoldered. “Enough. Take him away, Psion Gaius.”

  A pressing force surrounded him, pushing into him. He reached for his Focus, and while he found it, something blocked access to his ether. Somehow, they had cut him off from his magic. He thrashed about, but with seven Psions, plus Talent Khairu, there was nothing he could do but accept his fate.

  “They’re lying,” Lucian said. “All of them! All of them tried to make a deal with me.”

  Gaius leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Do you not remember? I told you to tread carefully. And it would seem you’ve fallen through the ice.”

  Lucian screamed, but that scream was cut off by a sharp pain in his head, followed by a loss of consciousness.