Chapter 4

My body hit a surface that speared me with frigid teeth from every direction.

I couldn't help the gasp that filled my lungs with salt and death. Couldn't help but kick and scream against the punches of the sea until a line of rope flashed before my eyes and I plunged a hand out to grab it.

The rope reeled me in, and I clung to it with my teeth chattering.

Was this real? It couldn't be. It had to be a Mind Manipulating trick, or an earth and water stunt pulled by the Element Wielders. And as the rope dragged me straight into a ladder rising up the side of a ship and sun-crisped faces leered down at me, I told myself that the pirates were just Shape Shifters who had sprouted hooks and tattoos and wooden limbs as surely as the coachmen had sprouted feathers.

This isn't real, this isn't real. It's just a demonstration.

But damn, did the princes and princesses of the Esholian Institute make their demonstrations feel real. Because as a rough pair of hands—one with a missing finger—yanked me onboard, my clothes hung drenched and heavy and cold.

The woman with the missing finger grabbed me by the chin and wrenched my face this way and that, clucking her tongue impatiently.

"What kind of magic do you have, girl?"

"W-what?" I couldn't believe they were taking this so far. Was I actually expected to speak right now? "I don't have one yet. My Branding isn't until tomorrow."

Her four-fingered hand came flying so fast, I didn't even register the sting of the slap until after my face was angled sideways.

"Lies," the woman hissed. "Everyone tossed from that damned island has a magic, and magic, my dear, is worth its weight in gold around here. Now tell me which one you have so I know how much I can sell you for."

"Not that you'll be able to sell her for much," someone behind her snickered, followed by general chuckles of agreement. "The island only throws away their scraps. This one won't make us more than a pound or two."

Clearly, I was expected to engage. Throwing my fiercest glare at the so-called pirates, I said, "I get it. I won't run away or mess with the island's shield or… or kill anyone." And I will pass the test. I'm not anybody's scraps.

Instantly, a tugging sensation sucked me back up into a world of solid ground. I blinked against the happy stroke of sunlight on my face as the crowd around me muttered and rubbed their heads.

"That," called the brown-haired prince, still standing on his pedestal of solid air, "is what awaits you if you can't prove your worth. This island doesn't tolerate the weak or the out-of-control, but the pirates out there?" Something shifted in his voice. "They would love to tolerate you."

The first woman smiled in that plastered way and called out with her chipper voice, "Now at this time, we would like you to please follow your nearest prince or princess so we can give you a tour and lead you to the Branding arena, where you will all be staying tonight in preparation for the ceremony."

Within the span of a blink, she and the others sunk back into the crowd.

Chaos exploded again, elbows and shoulders pushing against me as everyone surged toward their nearest guide. As if we hadn't just sunk into the island itself and hallucinated a possible future as a collective unit.

I let myself get swept away by the current. My nearest guide wasn't the cocky, smirking prince, but a different, higher-pitched one with a buzzcut. I focused on every word he said as we swept from the courtyard to a small, red-bricked road branching off of it.

The golden domed building was the Testing Center, where we would perform quarterly practice tests before the final one. The wedged section of buildings behind us was the learning sector for Object Summoners—I felt a pang of longing for Fabian and Don at that—and the section over to the left, full of cages and miniature stadiums, was for Shape Shifters. When we meandered through the section for Wild Whisperers, monkeys perched on the rooftops, watching us pass, and butterflies spiraled around our faces.

Then we came to the largest road that ran from the courtyard to the estuary I'd seen flying in. Bascite Boulevard, our guide said it was called. From where we stood, the Element Wielder section lay on one side, crowned in what looked like a perpetual layer of brewing clouds. On the other side, the Mind Manipulator section sported neat rows of all-white, impassive-looking classrooms that gave me chills.

"Looks like they torture people in there," a girl next to me murmured.

I tried to catch her eye, to think of a joke related to torture (was it even possible to make a joke about torture?), anything to make a friend here… but she had already plunged forward with everyone else, and soon there were too many bodies between us for me to even reach her.

My arms seemed to hang too awkwardly at my side.

Like a tide squeezing through a ravine, we crossed an arched metal bridge over the estuary and came to the row of those gigantic houses lining the other end of Bascite Boulevard—five on each side.

"These here are the Shape Shifter houses," our guide said now, and I realized I was closer to him than ever before. I could see the sweat darkening the back of his shirt and the amber buzzcut frosting his head. He was the one who'd been sitting on the swarm of bees. "Boys' house on the left, girls' house on the right."

The Shape Shifter mansions sat across from each other like mirror images of one another. They were made of brick with shingled rooftops and sweeping staircases leading to their front doors. Dark, but cozy. A few older kids lounged on those steps, smoking and watching us pass. One of them had horns protruding from either side of his head.

As I watched, a buddy nearby smacked the guy's arm, and his horns melted back into his skull. Yep, I could definitely imagine them imitating pirates for fun.

"Now, these are the Element Wielder houses," the buzzcut prince was saying, pointing to the next pair of mansions.

These ones were made of what looked like black alabaster, with widespread windows and people milling about on the flat, gated rooftop, as if to be closer to the sky. As we passed, a young woman from the girls' side lobbed a snowball at us. She looked vaguely familiar, and I realized with a double take that she was from Alderwick. Her name was Julie or Joyce or something like that. It had been three years since she'd left, and I'd never interacted with her beyond a polite nod or hello.

The woman didn't notice me, anyway. Her snowball hit a boy next to me, exploding on his head, and she and her friends doubled over with laughter.

"Are you okay?" I asked the boy, but he didn't seem to hear me. He'd stopped in the middle of the tide to yell at her… wanting to fight or flirt, I couldn't tell.

Feeling sicker and lonelier by the moment, I moved on as our guide called out information about the third pair of mansions.

"These are the Object Summoners'. Friendly lot, as you can probably tell."

Indeed, the Object Summoners lived in quaint wooden houses with gingerbread-style turrets and wraparound porches lined in green trim. The lump in my throat rose and fell with each of my breaths as I thought of Fabian and Don once living in the left one.

If only they were here. If only I could run into that house and find them sitting in their favorite armchairs and give them one last hug and—

A single tear slipped out. Shit, no. I could not be crying right now.

I batted it away, raised my chin, and just barely caught the buzzcut prince's next words.

"—my sector, the Wild Whisperer houses."

The fourth pair of mansions looked the most… normal to me, minus the sheer size of them: made of chiseled stone with huge, street-facing balconies and tangled ivy climbing up the sides. A few older kids waved from the balconies, various birds squatting on their shoulders.

I blinked again with dry eyes. Good. I would not cry, and I would make friends. After, of course, I had found Quinn and Lander and asked them what the hell they'd thought about that little demonstration in the courtyard.

"Finally," the buzzcut prince said, "the Mind Manipulator houses. A rule to live by." He stopped abruptly, causing a few inductees behind him to run into his sweat-drenched back. "Do not mess with the Mind Manipulators. And if you end up being one of them…" he gave a nervous chuckle. "Please be nice to the rest of us."

I couldn't disagree with his assessment. The Mind Manipulator houses, the last pair on Bascite Boulevard, were made of that same impassive-looking marble as the classrooms back by the courtyard, with looming pillars and hundreds of little windows framed by black shutters.

Like eyes peering into your soul, I thought.

I could only hope that I wouldn't have to live in there for the next five years.

"Now this…" Buzzcut spread his arms as we approached the end of the boulevard, which opened to a field capped by a curved stone stadium. "Is the arena where we hold assemblies, play pentaball, and—tomorrow—host the Branding."

Through the gaps between bodies, I could see the field. Perhaps usually carpeted with clean-cut grass, it was now thoroughly trampled as the hundreds of newcomers began leaking onto it, formulating clusters of cliques. Dozens and dozens of tents, canvas and bamboo, from the looks of them, lined the field, and just as many carts of food were being pushed around by second- or third-years.

"For tonight," Buzzcut said, "you may eat dinner and find a tent to stay the night in. Every tent will be supplied with nightclothes, sleeping bags, and generic toiletries. Your belongings will be returned to you when your magic is activated and you join a sector."

A voice within our group shouted out, "Which ones are the girl tents?"

Buzzcut raised a ginger eyebrow. "The tents are not separated into girls' ones or boys' ones tonight. Tonight, you may do whatever you wish. Besides, of course, killing anyone, messing with the shield, or running away, as Coen Steeler said."

Coen Steeler. The man with the annoying smirk. I remembered how he'd said it wasn't difficult to behave, and I felt my heart flop away from me like a damned fish. Were they really allowing us to just…sleep together? In tents on the Branding ceremony field? I'd kissed Wilder, of course, but anything further than our touching and groping… I wasn't prepared for tonight. Not at all.

Quinn and Lander. I had to find them right now.

As soon as Buzzcut released us, I marched forward, narrowing my eyes into calculating slits that only took in general colors and shapes. I'd known Quinn and Lander my whole life, so why was it so hard to pick them out now?

Left and right, in and out, I zigzagged between tents and groups of shrieking, laughing boys and girls, ignoring the smells of food that wafted out from those carts and made my stomach absolutely ache with its emptiness.

No, I would not eat until I'd found them. Until I'd—

There. A sheet of silky red hair.

Manners aside, I pushed through a mass of limbs and sweat-sparkling skin to reach her, where she was chatting amiably with a group of other girls.

"Quinn!"

"Rayna, there you are." Quinn pulled me into a lazy hug with one arm. Her other hand held some kind of sandwich with sprouts hanging out, which she deftly snuck into mine. "Here, do you want the rest of this? I've had my fill. Rayna, this is Jenia… what did you say your surname was, Jenia?"

"Leake," the nearest girl said, and her eyes, sultry and gray, scanned my whole body. She had permanently pouting lips and hair a brighter blonde than mine, except hers was glossy like Quinn's. I forced myself not to touch the stray strands of my own mess of curls. "And you are…?" she asked me.

"Rayna." I attempted a smile.

"Well, obviously. I heard her say your name. I meant how do you know her?"

I blinked. The possessiveness in the tone, the pure lack of warmth… I couldn't see how Quinn wasn't downright scowling at her as she cut in with, "She's my best friend from home. I'm glad you found us, Ray. We were just talking about these hot-as-shit Shape Shifters over near the stadiums who are actually turning into lions right in front of the first-years."

"Oh. Wait, what?" Hot-as-shit Shape Shifters? Where was Lander? I took a bite of the sandwich and was about to ask when another girl barged toward us.

"Guys, they're letting people pet them now. C'mon, you have to try it."

And she pulled Quinn and Jenia with her, toward the Shifters, away from me.

For some reason, I stood rooted to the grass, and Quinn didn't even look back.