Lucian cleaned up in the bathhouse connected to the northern wing. He didn’t have time to warm the water, nor could he stream to do it, so he settled for scrubbing himself with soap and cold water and drying and warming himself by the hearth. He rushed through the back courtyard in a fresh brown robe, cutting across it toward the dining hall in the eastern wing.

  Finally, it seemed that this long day was winding down.

  The dining hall buzzed with conversation, mostly from the Novices, while the Talents had a more sedate conversation at the other table. In all, there were perhaps fifty people gathered. Though there were about a hundred Novices, not all ate at the same hours. Even with the fifty here, it would be easy enough for Lucian to slip in unnoticed.

  Lucian always wondered where the Transcends ate. Perhaps they subsisted on nothing more than ether itself. The thought was ridiculous, but it seemed to be the image they wanted to project. He knew their quarters and towers were on the third level, and were barred to Novices and even Talents who had no reason to be there. Novices couldn’t even go to the second level, where the Talents stayed and trained, without permission.

  Even though there were two tables, all the Novices crowded at the one farthest from the fire, where a large pot of stew simmered. There didn’t look to be a single spot for Lucian to sit.

  Lucian filled his bowl with stew, chock-full of a smattering of ingredients haphazardly thrown in. The longest Lucian had seen the same stew simmer was about two weeks. It should have been flavorful, but a stew could only be as flavorful as the ingredients that made it. On Transcend Mount, the food was nutritious, if mostly flavorless.

  He noted the empty plate on the nearby serving table, where only a few crumbs of Emma’s cake were left. He pushed down his ire at Khairu. If not for her, he would have been here in time to get some.

  Lucian approached the Novices’ table at the end next to Emma. She made room, telling others to scoot. They grumbled, but a small amount of space was cleared, enough for him to squeeze in. Lucian was glad he had an advocate here, especially one as well-liked as Emma. She had no trouble making friends, something Lucian couldn’t boast of for himself.

  He took up his spot and ate. He hoped the conversation would focus on anything but him. However, it didn’t seem as if he would get his wish.

  “How did training with Khairu go?” Damian asked.

  Thankfully, Emma was the one who answered. “Good. I don’t think I can stream another drop.”

  “That’s great!” Rhea said. “Looks like that block is gone for good, then?”

  “I hope so,” Emma said. “I’ve only had the wreaking twice since being here, so let’s hope that’s the last time.”

  “She looked like a Talent there for a minute,” Lucian said. “She was streaming like she'd been doing it all her life.”

  Emma’s cheeks colored. “Really, it was nothing.”

  “Dynamism might be your primary,” Rhea said.

  “Primary?” Emma asked. “What does that mean?”

  Rhea pursed her lips. It was against the rules for Novices to teach unless asked by a superior, and that included casual conversation. That prohibition made it hard to acquire information sometimes. Even Talents didn’t reveal much, only wanting to focus on the basics.

  “Your primary is the Aspect you’re best at,” Rhea explained, slightly lowering her voice. “I won’t say more. The Transcends like to reserve that type of teaching for themselves.”

  “What exactly are Aspects?” Lucian asked, somewhat cautiously. “I’ve heard them mentioned before, but nothing in-depth.”

  The Aspects of Magic were something everyone seemed to know. Everyone but him. He’d tried to look it up in the library once, but a passing Talent set him to work tidying the stacks. He’d learned enough to know that Dynamism and Psionics were two of the Aspects, plus the five others Vera had mentioned, but most of that had slipped from his memory by now.

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  Rhea seemed hesitant to say more, but Damian filled in the gap. “I don’t see the harm in telling them the basics.” Before Rhea could protest, he was already explaining. “Mages divide magic into Seven Aspects. They’re the ways magic manifests itself in our world. Dynamism is one of those Seven, for example. Rhea was saying Emma might be a Dynamist if that’s her primary. The primary being what a mage is considered best at.”

  “What are the others, then?” Emma asked.

  “You’ll get to that in time,” Rhea said, casting a nervous glance toward the Talents. “For now, it’s best if we don’t overcomplicate things.”

  That only set fire to Lucian’s curiosity, but apparently, more than a passing understanding was frowned upon. Things were done a certain way here, and curiosity did not seem to be a virtue, at least for the Novices.

  Damian raised his clay cup. “To Emma! For those of you living under a rock, she broke her block today.” Even some of the Talents were looking over now. “May it be her first step on the path to Talent!”

  There were cries of “hear-hear,” and the slamming of clay cups on the wooden table. Every Novice drank to Emma’s progress, and most of the Talents, too. Lucian raised his cup with the rest. It felt wrong to do it with water. Lucian had been taught that it was bad luck, but everyone else was doing it, so he didn’t want to stick out.

  While the Novices chattered, Lucian added to the conversation only enough to not be noticed. Despite the exertion of the day, he found he had little appetite.

  “I have some cake left, Lucian,” Emma said. “Would you like to try it?”

  Everyone was looking at him. The stubborn part of him wanted to refuse, but he forced a smile. “Just a bite or two. You’ve earned it.”

  She cut off more than a bite or two. The flavor hit him like a punch in the face. The cake was so creamy, with vanilla, buttercream, and raspberry jam, so light that it melted in his mouth. After months of porridge and stew, he had never tasted anything better. Despite his mood, he was powerless to resist the smile tugging at his lips.

  Everyone was looking at him, watching for a reaction.

  “Where are they keeping all this sugar?”

  The others laughed at that.

  “Break your block, and you’ll get your own cake,” Damian said.

  Once the Novices finished cleaning up, Lucian headed back to his room. Emma caught up to him in the corridor.

  “Hey,” she said. “Sorry about that back there.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  There was an awkward silence. Did she suspect how jealous he was? If she could tell, so could everyone else.

  “Never mind. I’m going to be dreaming about that cake for a while.”

  “Yeah, me too. Listen, Emma . . .”

  He stopped in the corridor, and she with him. Her eyes looked at him with concern. He didn’t have the heart to meet her gaze. It would only make things worse.

  “Sorry if I’m acting weird. I’m happy for you. I really am. It’s hard not to be a bit jealous, and that’s not right.” He felt his cheeks burn. “You’ve earned this.”

  “Oh.” She touched his arm. “I understand. It will happen for you soon. You’ll see.”

  The words felt little more than a platitude. “I’m sure it will. You’ve worked so hard. It’s inspiring in a way.”

  She shrugged. “I had no choice. It’s do or die for me.”

  Yes, that was true. “Anyway. Congratulations. Maybe you’ll be good enough to stand the Trials this year.”

  “I’m not holding my breath. I’ll see you in the morning. That is, two standard days from now.”

  Right. Because of night meditations. It was hard for Lucian to wrap his head around the schedule, even after three months. “See you then.”

  They watched each other a moment longer. Today, he had talked to Emma more than he had in weeks. He didn’t want the conversation to end, but there were appearances to keep up. If the Talents even suspected his feelings for her, it could ruin everything for both of them.

  So, Lucian returned to his room. The walk back was cold and lonely. The outside air made the interior halls chilly, and Lucian only felt relief once he was in his room. Once he lit the candles, he closed the door to find himself in blessed silence.

  Lucian settled into his bed, propping himself against the stone wall. He picked up a worn book from the Academy’s library on his nightstand. He had meant to finally get started on Manifoldic Theory before bed, and he almost didn’t open the book due to his exhaustion.

  But when he opened the cover, he found that the title page was quite different from what he had expected.

  “A translation of The Prophecy of the Seven, by the Transcend Arian.”

  Lucian heaved a sigh of frustration. He had checked out the wrong book, probably due to his exhaustion. Still, this one was by Arian, too, the same author of Manifoldic Theory. Perhaps there was something of value in it.

  The pages were faded, and Lucian could see the book was quite old. Arian had taught at the Academy during its early years, so the tome could be as much as a century old.

  Lucian started at the beginning, but the prose was incomprehensible. Almost as if it were another language. The foreword, by some long-dead Transcend or other, revealed Arian had abandoned his conscious mind to delve the Manifold itself, giving his body to the fraying to discover its secrets, which resulted in this text.

  Well, if anything, this would be a good resource for falling asleep on restless nights.

  From the jumble of words, he doubted even the most hallucinatory drug trip could reproduce such a text. The book was a symbol of everything else this place had to offer. Impenetrable, incomprehensible, and maddening.

  He was about to blow out the candle when there was a knock at the door. With a frown, he went to answer it.