Lucian entered the Academy and turned down a dark corridor. He clung to the shadows, waiting to make sure no one was coming. It was wishful thinking. Voices echoed from around the corner—voices that seemed to be coming his way. He shrank into an open doorway, empty of articles except for a dilapidated desk. Feet passed the door, making straight for the courtyard. He waited there at least five minutes as ten or so people passed, most speaking in hushed whispers. Lucian could join the flow to pretend as if he were investigating it himself. It was the natural thing to do. It might be more suspicious if he were the only one absent.

  Lucian listened to make sure the hallway was clear. Then, he walked back out into the cold courtyard. Twenty or so people, Novices mostly but also some Talents, had gathered by the cliff. All were looking out at the shattered iceberg, talking in low voices.

  Once Lucian was close enough, his heart racing, he could hear what they were saying.

  “Someone hammered that thing,” one of the male Talents said, whose name Lucian didn’t know.

  The person he was speaking to, Lucian did know. Gaius regarded the remnants of the iceberg in cold silence. Everyone seemed to be watching Gaius for a reaction, but his expression was as still as stone.

  “The ether required to destroy that . . .” The Psion shook his head. “Someone overdrew.”

  “Who?” a newer Novice asked.

  Gaius clenched his jaw. “That’s what I mean to find out.”

  “Hey.”

  Lucian jumped as Emma approached him from behind. “Oh. Hey.”

  “Just got here. What was that noise?” Her eyes went wide at the sight of the destroyed iceberg, which was still in the process of breaking apart. “Who did that?”

  “No one knows,” Lucian said. “Someone powerful with magic, that’s for sure.”

  Maybe that would throw them off the scent. Some of the Talents shifted their feet. Lucian had spoken more loudly than he’d intended.

  Psion Gaius turned to face them. And with that action, he and Emma became the focus of everyone’s attention. It wasn’t a position Lucian wanted to be in. But the Psion’s eyes went above them, seeming to address everyone in the crowd. “If anyone knows what happened, speak now.”

  No one suspected Lucian. How could they? He hadn’t streamed a drop of magic since getting here. No one would suspect him unless someone observed it. How long had he been out there? Two to three minutes? Most of the mages would have been at their meditations, though it was conceivable that one or two might have been looking out at the courtyard. The front yard was a more popular place to meditate, but it was too cold for many to do so outside.

  Had that been Khairu on the second-floor arcade? If it was her, she would be reporting him this very moment. She was notably absent from this assembly.

  Transcends Blue and Green joined the throng. Their faces were stern masks, and all went quiet at their approach.

  Transcend Green was the one who addressed the crowd, his long beard blowing in the wind. “What happened out here?”

  “Someone destroyed the iceberg,” a female Talent said, with a red sash that denoted her as a Talent of Transcend Red.

  Transcend Green’s attention immediately went back to the crowd. “Which of you did this?”

  Dead silence was his only answer.

  Lucian kept his eyes down. He couldn’t risk looking at the Transcend. After all, Vera and Transcend White seemed able to read thoughts. Maybe Transcend Green did too.

  “If one of you did this,” Transcend Blue said, scanning the small crowd, “a choice lies before you. To tell the truth or pay the price for your silence. Either way, we Transcends will discover the truth of it, rest assured.”

  The two Transcends waited a moment longer as if to give the perpetrator a chance to confess. But Lucian wouldn’t say a word. If they knew it was him, he would be expelled.

  After that moment had passed, the Transcends returned to the Academy.

  In the absence of further instructions, Psion Gaius took charge. “All right. Back to your meditations. There’s nothing more to see here.”

  At these words, the Novices and Talents dispersed with low murmurs. Lucian looked up at the pillared colonnade where Khairu might have been earlier, but it was empty. He must have imagined her there.

  However, if it hadn’t been his imagination, then his time at the Volsung Academy would soon be coming to an end.

  Lucian returned to his room to “meditate,” but in reality, he lay in bed, trying to process what had happened. Transcend Blue said they would find out, one way or another. The real question was whether Lucian should believe that.

  The “right” thing to do was to confess, but that would only get him expelled. And that would be the end of his short tenure at the Volsung Academy and the beginning of his long tenure as a prisoner of the Mad Moon.

  There was only one person he could trust here, but Lucian didn’t know where to find Emma. If she were in the women’s Novice quarters, he couldn’t go there. He would have to hope she was somewhere else on the grounds. Perhaps in the library, where she spent a great deal of her time studying. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had to go on.

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  Lucian was always a bit awed by the library’s scale. It was the only place in the Academy that opened to all three floors, extending to the height of the roof. Thousands upon thousands of synth-leather volumes crowded the shelves. Since the use of electronics was forbidden, all the Volsung mages’ knowledge was contained here. Metal spiral staircases circled to the upper levels, and the entire space was lit dimly by hovering light spheres.

  Emma was sitting at one of the central tables along with a few other Novices, including Damian and Rhea. Each had their nose buried in a book. In complete obedience to the Transcends’ mandate of silence, they didn’t so much as look up as he approached.

  Lucian stood by Emma. When she finally noticed him, Lucian nodded toward the open doorway and left. He was sure others had noticed that, but he needed to talk to her.

  “What is it?” she asked once they were out in the corridor.

  There was no point in hedging. “It was me.”

  Her expression remained still, the news not registering. And then her face blanched.

  “No. It couldn’t have been . . .” She looked at him, as if for confirmation. He nodded, and her face went even paler.

  “Lucian. Oh, God.”

  “If they find out, I’ll get kicked out of the Academy for good.”

  “What? No, you won’t. This means you’ve broken through your block. That’s what they want, right?”

  “It’s not that,” he said. “Psion Gaius said whoever did it overdrew. So, if they figure out it was me . . .”

  Everything was hitting him at once. Combined with his mother’s death, all he could feel was sick to his stomach.

  “Lucian?” Emma took his hand. “What’s going on?”

  His eyes met hers. “My mom died.”

  She blinked, her face not seeming to comprehend. “What do you mean? How do you know that?”

  “Transcend White summoned me to her office.” His voice was thick. “She handed me this.”

  He reached into his pocket and gave her the dispatch. She scanned it.

  “Lucian . . .” Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. When she hugged him, Lucian could only feel numb.

  “It’s . . . hard to believe. It doesn’t feel real, yet.”

  “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to grieve.”

  Grieve? How was it possible to grieve when it didn’t even feel real?

  “I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I can’t leave. They already held the funeral weeks ago. I don’t know what this means about the Swarmers . . .” He looked at her. “Don’t tell anyone about that part.”

  “I won’t.” Her eyes were filled with sadness. “If you need anything, I’m here. Try to think of her, okay? Process it. Remember all that was good.”

  The last thing Lucian wanted was a lecture. He managed a nod.

  “I should go. I . . . just needed to tell someone.”

  “Let me be with you. You shouldn’t have to deal with this on your own.”

  “Thanks, but . . . I just need some space.”

  She watched him for a moment. “Don’t bottle this up, okay? If you need anyone to talk to, I’m here.”

  He left her standing there. It felt wrong to do that, but he just didn’t want to talk about it right now. He didn’t understand why he’d sought her out in the first place.

  Rather than return to his room, he walked until he reached the front entrance of the Academy. The wide-open lawn outside was empty. He descended the outer steps until the short, lichen-like grass was beneath his boots. He didn’t understand what he was doing or why he was doing it.

  He headed to the flame tree, standing alone at the edge of the southern cliff. Its fiery foliage was thick above its white trunk. This very tree was imprinted on the stones of the Academy at various points. Though no one had ever told him so, Lucian figured it was something of a symbol for the Volsung Academy.

  Lucian stood at the base of the tree, and after considering a moment, began climbing. He was probably not supposed to be doing this. But he had already broken one rule, so what was another infraction? Besides, he wasn’t in the mood to care. Due to the thick foliage, there was little chance of anyone seeing him. He just needed to be alone.

  The foliage seemed to break the wind. Sheltered within the tree, he could sit for hours and think. When he’d exhausted himself of that, he entered a silent torpor. It was as if he didn’t exist, as if the cold didn’t exist. He unconsciously recalled his Focus and fed his emotions into it. Oblivion was all he wished for at this moment. For a few hours, he might have it. The stars wheeled across the sky. Even Volsung Orbital passed along the southern horizon, about the size of Earth’s moon, a shadow blocking the stars above. He was content to exist without thought or motive, at least for now.

  But thought eventually returned, and those thoughts were cruel. If he had only mentioned her going to Halia to work for his uncle, she might be alive right now. She wasn’t supposed to be a part of that battle.

  Voices emanated from the direction of the Academy. Lucian didn’t let go of his Focus but instead allowed it to enhance his senses. He adjusted the limbs for a better view. What he saw broke through the numbness. Transcend White was strolling across the yard toward him, along with a red-robed figure that could be none other than Transcend Red. She was back from the hunt, then. How long had she been here?

  Lucian had heard Transcend Red was the youngest of the Transcends, being in her late thirties. As both Transcends drew closer, Lucian could see Transcend Red was a strikingly beautiful woman, with long blonde hair, full red lips, and a long, pale face illuminated by the starlight. Her beauty was only slightly marred by a sour expression that gave her a mean look.

  As they drew closer to the tree, Lucian remained still. If they knew he was in here, then there was little that could be done about it. It wasn’t as if he could run without them noticing. But to his relief, they stood at the cliff’s edge about twenty meters away. They spoke in low voices, of which he could not hear a trace. The wind covered their words completely.

  From the side profile of Transcend Red’s face, Lucian could see her small but well-defined jawline, aquiline nose, and creamy skin. The wind tugged at her light blonde hair as she watched Transcend White, whose back was to Lucian.

  All Lucian could do was remain still. There were a couple of times when it seemed like Transcend Red saw him, but if she did, she pretended not to notice.

  As she spoke, her demeanor was stern, and her gestures were a bit harsh. What could they be arguing about, and why was she so angry?

  All Lucian could do was hope they didn’t look his way. The two Transcends spoke for at least half an hour. At last, they seemed to come to some form of consensus, at which point they began walking back to the Academy.

  Lucian waited another fifteen minutes before easing himself from the tree. His muscles had gone stiff with inactivity, and his hands were numb from the cold. The weather had grown even more frigid—cold enough for it to snow, perhaps. Shivering, he hurried back inside. He was grateful to find the entry hall empty, save for a young Talent in her twenties who was the night’s Timekeeper, whose job was to light the fifty-five torches arranged in the entry hall, one per hour. Lucian warmed his hands at the central brazier before heading toward the dining hall.

  He was almost there when a stern female voice apprehended him. “Novice Lucian.”

  He spun to face Khairu. Where had she come from? Though shorter than him by a good measure, she seemed to tower over him by body posture alone.

  “The Spectrum has summoned you.”

  All of them? That could only mean one thing. From Khairu’s superior smirk, he realized that seeing her among the columns hadn’t been his imagination.

  Lucian almost asked her why she hated him so much, enough to rat him out to the Transcends, but pride stopped him. There was a faint chance this summoning could be about something else, small chance as it was.

  “Make your way there now,” she said.

  Lucian nodded. This was a battle he could not win.