Normally, I would find her chattiness grating, but a wave of affection washes over me that I can’t explain. She feels like an old friend, lost and then found again.
I keep eating while Tessa talks. She tells me all about how her first term went, how she’s finally feeling more confident in her abilities, how she can’t wait until she can introduce me to her friends.
“I want to know all about you, too,” she says after several minutes, “but it will have to wait until later. Norah wants to see you in the great hall”—she motions toward the food—“as soon as you’re finished eating, of course.”
The great hall. That can only mean one thing: a binding ceremony. My appetite vanishes and I push the tray away.
“I’m done,” I tell her. “Let’s get this over with.”
Norah hasn’t asked me about the details of my kenning. Including which of the three Sights my reading showed.
I can tell her anything I want.
Tessa and I walk down the corridor toward the great hall. As she fills me in on what to expect during the ceremony, I think of my father’s lessons in strategy. Should I say I have Third Sight? Assuming Norah has hired another instructor to replace Latham, they would presumably be using his old office. Latham might have left behind clues there that could help locate him.
Then again, I could say I have First Sight. Maybe focusing more heavily in reading the past would help me determine his plan in more detail.
And not choosing Second Sight might be protective—if I’m bound to the same Sight as either my mother or Gran, will Latham really acquire the bones of all three Sights by killing me?
The large doors of the great hall come into view, and an image rises in my mind. A huge rectangular room bathed in sunlight. Soaring ceilings supported by massive bone columns. Hundreds of folded cloaks resting beside stone basins. A shiver tingles down my spine. It’s as if a ghost has sidled up beside me to whisper secrets into my ear. Memories of things that never happened to me but would have if I’d been on a different path. If Gran’s bone had never broken.
But when Tessa opens the door, the scene before me looks nothing like the one in my memory.
The day is overcast, and so the stained-glass windows aren’t flooded with light and color. No rows of long tables. No stacks of colorful cloaks. No grandeur at all.
And the room is empty.
“Oh no,” Tessa says, “you had more time to eat and I rushed you. I’m sorry.”
I laugh at the sincere look of regret in her eyes and take her fingers in mine. “You’re a good friend, Tessa.”
Her eyebrows disappear into her hairline, and it takes me a moment to realize my mistake. We’ve only just met, and my response was far too familiar. I let go of her hand and my cheeks flame.
She studies me with a perplexed expression, and I scramble for some way to explain. “I’m sorry, I—”
The door at the far side of the great hall swings open. But it’s not Norah who enters the room. It’s Bram. My heart leaps at the sight of him, and a wave of confusion slams into me. My hands twitch at my sides as he approaches, and I resist the urge to reach up and sweep aside the lock of chestnut hair that has fallen across his forehead. It’s as if my body is a stranger, responding to things I don’t remember. What my heart should be feeling is panic. Bram knows enough to ruin my life. He knows my mother had Gran’s bones illegally prepared for my kenning. He’s seen me use unbound magic. And now he’s here at my binding ceremony, where I will make promises that turn me into a hypocrite. The realization is like soap drizzling into my eyes during a bath. A moment ago, I was fine, but now Bram’s presence is uncomfortable. Irritating.
He vowed to keep my secret, but will he?
“Hello,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“The binding ceremony requires witnesses,” Bram says. The wine-red shirt he wears brings out a hint of ruddiness in his complexion. “Norah asked me to attend.” She could have chosen anyone for a witness. Why Bram? “She thought you might appreciate a familiar face,” he says, as if I’ve spoken my concerns aloud.
I’m startled by a sudden, upsetting impulse to embrace him. I think of the tattoo around my wrist that I’m hoping will fade. About the way he laughed when I confessed we were matched on my other path.
“Oh.” I infuse my voice with indifference, as if his presence is no more significant than one of the Poulsen twins showing up to my binding. We’re from the same town, that’s all. “Well, then, thank you for coming.” Bram starts to say something more, but he’s interrupted by the door opening again. Norah enters carrying a stone basin loaded with supplies. On top is a neatly folded wool cloak. She’s accompanied by a Bone Charmer—just one—dressed in red silk robes.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Norah says. She dips her head toward the woman beside her. “This is Kyra. She’s our Second Sight Charming Master. Kyra, this is Saskia.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” I say. Kyra’s skin is warm brown, and her black hair is braided and twisted into a bun at the back of her head. Her face is unlined and has an ageless quality.
She takes my outstretched hand in hers. “The pleasure is mine. It will be refreshing to have an apprentice for the upcoming term. I look forward to working with you.”
I turn back toward Norah. “But I don’t understand. I never told you I was matched with Second Sight.”
A look of alarm flits across Norah’s expression. “Was I wrong? Were you matched with another Sight?”
I swallow. There’s no good way to handle this. I wasn’t matched as a Bone Charmer, so Norah couldn’t have access to the results of a reading that gave me Second Sight when one doesn’t exist. But on my other path, my mother did match me with Second Sight. So what if Norah somehow knows that’s my fate?
“You weren’t wrong,” I say, finally. “I just wondered how you knew.”
She and Kyra share a look. “We have reason to believe Latham might have been targeting your family based on you having Second Sight.” She clears her throat. “It’s rather unusual to have three generations of Bone Charmers, and even more rare that they each have a different Sight.”
This time it’s me and Bram who share a significant glance. Back in Midwood, he promised to help me stop Latham, and his eyes spark with interest at Norah’s declaration.
But it’s reassuring that Norah knows some of what Latham was after. Maybe the Grand Council will be successful in finding and stopping him.
“Shall we get started?”
Norah goes to the small wooden table in the center of the room and places the basin on top. Inside is a collection of bones.
My palms begin to sweat as I think of what my mother told me about the binding ceremony. That it involves apprentices agreeing to confine their magic to one specific area. It’s like pruning a garden. The magic is directed and confined. And eventually the potential in other areas withers and dies. And the nurtured magic grows stronger.
But I don’t want to lose my ability to see into the past or the future.
My mastery tattoo isn’t the one I’m trying to lose.
Kyra takes out a piece of flint and a small sharp needle. She reaches for my hand and cradles it in hers.