A couple of hours later…

  Skye marched toward the windrider leaning against the wall by the test area’s door.

  “Varick Shamoun is not at his office,” he stated forcefully, startling the guard from his doze. “Where is he? I want to meet him.”

  The guard straightened and turned to face him, scrutinizing his red-and-black suit and the dazzling gemstones that gilded its buttons, pockets, and cuffs.

  “Erm, he’s a bit busy at the moment,” the windrider said. “Sir,” he added after a pause.

  Skye’s disguise had worked; the guard must think him some baron’s son. He didn’t let his satisfaction show, instead offering a most disapproving scowl.

  “I did not come all the way down from Solarite to be rejected at the door.” He raised his right hand to display the black umberzuli ring on his forefinger shaped like a skull. “Go tell Varick that Baron Reloux Rikal has a request for him.”

  He shifted the leather binding, allowing the little solarite stone beneath to breathe some light and shine brilliantly. Awestruck, the guard gawked until Skye casually rebound the stone.

  “Now!” he barked.

  “Y-yes, sir!” the guard stammered, bolting so quickly Skye was sure he was channeling wind to enhance his speed.

  ‘See? You can be a good liar when you set your mind to it,’ Redeyes said.

  Moments later, the double doors creaked open to reveal both Varick and the windrider. Varick stepped out, his expression innocent as a calf’s. He studied Skye with a pleasant smile, his gaze lingering on the ring.

  “I’m Varick Shamoun,” he said smoothly. “How may I help you, Mr.…?”

  “Skye Rikal,” Skye replied. “My grandfather, Baron Reloux, sends his regards and hopes you can spare a moment to administer my aptitude test.”

  He pulled a small black envelope from his jacket’s inner pocket. Embossed with the Rikals’ symbol—a shadowy umberzuli stone carved in the shape of a skull—it looked official enough. He handed it to Varick. “He would sincerely appreciate your expedience in this matter.”

  Varick, being the greedy slime that he was, opened it on the spot. Three lunaline coins clinked into his palm, painting his face in silvery light. Their value was twice that of the photrine pouch, but thanks to the forged identity, hopefully raised fewer suspicions.

  The Rikals were notoriously private; no one knew their true numbers or identities. Claiming to be one of them would spark Varick’s interest just enough to get him invested, and the bell would absolve Skye of any fallout afterward.

  Varick pocketed the coins, beaming. “This way, Mr. Skye.” He gave a slight bow.

  The test hall was vast, easily larger than any other courtyard at the school. Plants hung from the ceiling like chandeliers, their dangling fruit glowing like beacons. Giant crystals were lined in a series of altars on thick stone platforms, spread throughout the arena.

  Skye wanted to jump and whoop. He’d succeeded in something at last.

  ‘Don’t celebrate yet,’ Redeyes said. ‘We’re not alone.’

  Next to one of the giant support pillars, five boys stood chatting. Their laughter faded when they noticed him, faces scowling first in confusion then with anger. He’d intruded on their test.

  “Who are you?” Nakais Alektom asked with a frown.

  Nakais’s gang was all present, dressed in suits as ostentatious as Skye’s. These clowns were the last people he needed present during his test as they’d do nothing but slow and mock him.

  “This is Mr. Skye Rikal,” Varick informed them. “He’ll take the test ahead of you. You can wait on the benches over there.”

  “Rikal?!” Gafor asked. With his curly brown hair trimmed short, he somehow looked uglier than before. “I thought your family never left home.”

  “That’s not fair! We booked the hall for today,” Billiam whined.

  Skye guessed Billy’s jealousy was the reason this group was here. Being the youngest at eleven, he was the only one untested. He’d probably thrown a tantrum until his father arranged a private session with Varick to shut him up.

  “You booked it for the morning,” Varick said evenly. “And it’s well into the afternoon.”

  “We were told we could come anytime today,” Nakais argued, voice rising. “I’ll be telling my father about this, Varick.”

  A bead of sweat rolled down the scholar’s face. “Hold on, young master,” Varick said quickly, dabbing his forehead with a napkin. “Mr. Rikal is in a bit of a hurry. The process will only take a few minutes, I promise.”

  “So what? Are you saying the Rikals are more important than us?” Billiam shouted.

  “N-no, not at all!” Varick stammered. “I never implied-“

  “It’s alright. Let him go first,” Skye said with a resigned nod.

  As much as he wanted to see this swine sweat buckets, it was better like this. He’d read much about the aptitude test, but he still had doubts about the process. Seeing Billy flounder and get pointers would help fill the gaps in his knowledge. Besides, going before these buffoons would leave them with nothing to do but harass him.

  Varick sighed with relief. “Alright then, let’s start.” He led them to the nearest crystal.

  Not two steps forward and Nakais’s gang surrounded Skye. Of course they weren’t pleased with simply going before him, they also needed to let him know who’s boss. Cracking his neck, Skye resolved to fight until the scholar intervened. He couldn’t use his bell as he didn’t want to have to steal the lunalines again. Nakais was the biggest; his focus must be on dropping him first.

  He clenched his fists.

  “Thanks, Skye,” Nakais said, offering a hand. “I’m Nakais Alektom. This is my brother Billiam, and my friends Lastin, Gafor, and Taris.”

  Taken aback, Skye shook Nakais’s hand, then each of the boys in turn. It was a surreal experience. He remembered how they used to jump out of nowhere to push him and his friends into mud, or steal their clothes while they swam in the lake and threw them in a ditch. One time, they ambushed them with photrines, almost hitting Rierana.

  Yet, ever since the curse had taken hold, Nakais seemed… different. It was as if life had given him an opportunity to change for the better. And he actually used it.

  “We can take turns doing the test,” Billy offered with a gap-toothed smile.

  Skye raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Perhaps they were always kind, and it’s your presence that brought out the worst in them,’ Redeyes mused as everyone followed Varick.

  Shut up, Skye shot back. You don’t know them like I do.

  Lastin fell into step beside Skye. “You look old enough. Why haven’t you taken the test yet?”

  “I was sick,” Skye replied.

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  “For me, the last test happened ten days before my thirteenth birthday, and I wasn’t allowed to participate,” Lastin said.

  “Wait,” Skye paused. “You’re taking the test too?”

  “Yeah, I wish someone could take it for me instead, but alas.” Lastin sighed. “Gafor’s also taking it. He overslept last time.”

  “The tests are held over a three-days period!” Skye exclaimed.

  Gafor, waddling behind them, shrugged. “They hold it too early.”

  Skye pinched the bridge of his nose as Redeyes cackled. He should’ve insisted on going first.

  “What kind of channeler do you want to be?” Lastin asked.

  Skye had considered the question a hundred times, and come up with a hundred different answers. All denominations of channeling seemed incredible, and being one meant never experiencing the rest. He knew it was impossible, but still, he wished he could be adept at them all.

  “I don’t know,” he confessed.

  “Who doesn’t know what type of channeler they want to be?!” Gafor asked. “I’ve been dreaming about being a firedancer since I was four.”

  “Why a firedancer?” Billy asked.

  “Because firedancers are super amazing!” Gafor said like it was obvious. “And girls love firedancers. Look at Chief Akunai. Every pretty girl in the city cried when he got engaged to the duchess!”

  “That’s not how it works,” Lastin said. “Not all girls like firedancers.”

  “In Gafor’s case, it might be true,” Taris smirked. “Only way anyone finds your porky face hot is if you set yourself on fire.”

  They all laughed. Even Skye chuckled before remembering who his company was.

  Varick cleared his throat. “The channeling aptitude test is simple,” he said as they entered the courtyard. “If you can’t activate the first crystal, don’t worry. There are over twenty here, and we’ll go through them until we find one that suits you. Now, where would you like to start?”

  “Pyro!” Billy and Gafor said at once.

  Nakais nodded. “Most of our family are firedancers.”

  “Excellent suggestion,” Varick nodded. “This way.”

  They arrived at a clear crystal larger than Skye with a fist-sized, flame-shaped pyrpphire at its heart. The whole astrum looked like a giant opaque fruit with a red sphere for a seed. Four unlit golden torches circled its elevated base.

  Varick retrieved a pair of pyrpphires from a nearby box and scraped them together, shooting sparks that lit the first torch. “Channeling Pyro is much like exhaling,” he explained, lighting the second torch. “To manipulate fire, place your hands on the crystal, and release your fantasia into the world.” The pyrpphires clacked sharply. Red-orange flames danced atop the last torch. “Now then, who will go first?”

  “Me! Me!” Billiam shouted, rushing forward.

  “Wait,” Nakais said. He pulled back his sleeves, stepping onto the altar. “Let me show you how it’s done first.”

  He placed a hand on the crystal. “This is an astrum,” he said, tapping the crystal. “It’s not the target of your fantasia, merely the channel for it to flow out your body. Focus on the flames. Feel their heat. For firedancers, fantasia gathers in the chest, around their heart and lungs. It should be hot, pressured, demanding to leave. Once you sense it, imagine yourself a closed furnace. And slowly… open the door.”

  The seed at the crystal’s center flared, washing the platform with red light. The fires on the torches crackled, growing tenfold, casting wild shadows and filling the hall with searing heat.

  Skye and the others staggered back, shielding their faces.

  Nakais snapped his fingers, and the flames twisted into stripes of heat that curled around his arm. With an upward punch, they coalesced into a fireball that shot toward the ceiling and burst in a blinding flash.

  When the fire faded and the torches calmed, Skye released a long breath, wiping his brow.

  “Nakais, you’re pyromaniacally awesome!” Billy shouted, jumping like an excited rabbit.

  Nakais shrugged. “I should be. I’ve been training for four years.”

  Skye’s stomach knotted. He’d fought Nakais more than a dozen times. Any of those times, Nakais could’ve set his head ablaze. But he never even sparked a flame.

  ‘He was just toying with you,’ Redeyes whispered. ‘You weren’t worth the effort.’

  “Four years?!” Billy cried, punching Nakais’s shoulder. “You told me you found out two years ago! You liar!”

  “Sorry! Father made me promise. I had to keep it secret if I wanted to become a warden.”

  “Do another trick!” Lastin said eagerly. “Can you launch yourself like the chief?”

  “Blow up that column!” Gafor yelled.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Varick cut in, motioning Nakais off the platform. “Excellent display, Master Nakais. But please keep your channeling minimal. This hall has been purified to avoid contaminating anyone’s fantasia.” He motioned for Billy to advance. “Master Billiam?”

  Hands shaking, Billy stepped into the ring of firelight, looking tiny before the looming crystal. He slapped his hand onto its surface, closed his eyes, and grunted.

  Nothing happened.

  “Remember to breathe,” Nakais said, waving a hand in rhythm as he exhaled.

  Billy imitated him, first huffing, then blowing at the crystal like it was a stubborn candle. Skye watched the flames for changes—flickering, color shifts, any rise of heat.

  A moment later, Billiam released a frustrated groan.

  “You’re trying to channel, Billy, not take a dump,” Lastin quipped, laughing.

  Nakais backhanded him in the chest. “Relax, Billiam. You’re doing great. Focus on the fires.”

  Billy kept trying, huffing, gritting his teeth, even shouting. “Work, you big sack of coals! Work!”

  “That’s enough,” Varick said. “I’m afraid you’re not a firedancer, Master Billiam.”

  “No, this can’t be!” Billy shouted, stomping his foot. “Mom and Nakais are firedancers. I have to be one too! I have to! I’m just doing something wrong!”

  Varick shook his head. “These glassy crystals are amplifiers. They’re highly sensitive to fantasia. If you had even an iota of Pyro within you, it would have responded.”

  Billiam’s arms drooped, his voice small. “I’m not a firedancer…”

  Nakais hurried forward and laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Billy. You can be any other kind of channeler.”

  “Why do you get to be a firedancer?” Billiam cried, a tear slipping down his cheek. “It’s not fair!” He turned and fled behind a nearby column, his sobs echoing faintly through the hall.

  ‘What a child,’ Redeyes said. ‘Don’t act like him when you fail.’

  “I’ll go next,” Gafor said, stepping up to the crystal.

  Skye clutched his fists to stop their shaking, and when that failed, he shoved them into his pockets. Firedancers were incredible. They could maneuver around a battlefield, create smoke screens, and annihilate foes with overwhelming firepower. Being able to channel Pyro would be perfect for reaching Kastrala.

  After a minute of grunting and effort, Gafor punched the crystal and gave up. Then Lastin stepped in.

  Skye resorted to his breathing exercises to calm himself. It helped until he noticed the other boys staring at him.

  “You’re supposed to touch the crystal to channel, by the way,” Taris teased. Laughter rippled through the group.

  When Lastin finally failed, it was Skye’s turn.

  The steps to the crystal felt like a mountain range, the crystal itself looked like a faded sun.

  Its surface was cool and smooth as porcelain. Up close, he saw his reflection distorted in the red seed at its core. The flames crackled softly. Their warmth kissed his skin.

  He closed his eyes and opened his soul. Slowly, he inhaled. Slowly, he exhaled. And all the while, he searched for the fantasia contained within his chest like a hiding ember.

  He hadn’t realized before how much he wanted to be a firedancer. There was something mesmerizing about subduing an all-consuming force of nature, about becoming one with it, about commanding it. Concentrating on his lungs, he summoned the fantasia hiding there, searching for any ethereal anchors of energy flowing around his heart… Searching… Searching…

  ‘You’re just jealous of Nakais,’ Redeyes said, breaking his concentration.

  Skye ignored the phantasm, clinging to the image of the fire blaze.

  “I’m sorry, Master Skye,” Varick said after a long wait. “It’s time we move on to the next crystal.”

  Skye’s chest tightened, as if something heavy had struck him. He struggled to peel away from the crystal, couldn’t stop peeking over his shoulder.

  That was one denomination of fantasia he’d never taste.

  Varick snuffed the torches and led the group toward the stonemasons’ astrum. It was a dense cluster of octagonal crystal columns, their caps cut into polished pyramids. The seeds inside were brown geodoises, and instead of torches, the platform was littered with sand, stones, and clumps of mud.

  “I’ll go first!” Gafor shouted, hurrying forward.

  “Geo fantasia resides in your muscles,” Varick instructed. “Focus on your back, arms, and thighs. Try to move anything around you.”

  “Stonemasonry’s stupid,” Billiam said, wiping his red eyes. “They all have messed up joints and look ugly.”

  “Don’t remind me.” Taris shuddered. “Ever seen one of those coalbags from the Deeps? They’ve got rocks growing on their noses, their eyebrows, even their ears!”

  “I heard it grows in your mouth, too,” Lastin said.

  “Ew!” Billy cried.

  “That’s not true!” Skye snapped before he could stop himself. These spoiled brats had no right to badmouth all those hardworking people. “Most miners in the Deeps aren’t even channelers. And petrification fades when they return to the city.”

  Taris raised an eyebrow. “You speak like you’ve been underground.”

  “I have,” Skye said. “Many times.”

  “Maybe he’s got petrified parts! Show me your tongue!” Lastin joked, grabbing at him.

  “I do not!” Skye protested, shoving him back.

  “He’s hiding something!” Billiam laughed. “Lift your shirt and prove you don’t have rock nipples!”

  “I can drop my pants and show you how petrified I can get,” Taris offered.

  The boys burst out laughing. Skye didn’t.

  They were idiots. Petrification was an acceptable price for the power stonemasons commanded. Basalt had nearly wiped out the wardens on his own, and he’d only lost because he was half-dead already. These pampered fools would be lucky to grow half as strong as Skye’s previous leader.

  “Guys,” Nakais called. “Skye’s right about the petrification. And anyway, all channelers suffer contamination if they overchannel. Billy, you’re up.”

  Nakais and Taris clapped for a dejected Gafor as Billy trudged to the crystal. After a half-hearted attempt, he failed again. Lastin took his place while Skye quietly slipped off his shoes and socks.

  “You know we were joking about having to take your clothes off,” Taris said.

  Skye ignored him. When his turn came, he stepped barefoot onto the dry sand, feeling its crunch under his toes—a trick he’d learned from the secret library. Flexing all his muscles at once, he pushed at the pebbles with his will, compelling them to move. Stonemasons lacked mobility, but their defensive and offensive power would be invaluable on the road.

  Nothing moved, not a pebble, not a speck of sand. Eventually, he walked away, having lost another dream.