Page 19 of By the Orchid and the Owl
The group of older students directly behind us began to cheer and reel the boy toward them with their magic. Archie flew off the stage, down the aisle, and toward the stadium on his tiptoes, as if being pulled in by rope.
Mrs. Wildenberg was already pulling out another name.
“Chasity Lingerium!”
They brought out a brand-new poker for this girl, whose shoulders were hunched inward as if she’d rather shrivel up and die. When Mr. Gleekle pressed the new brand against her shoulder and she winced, Lander leaned in close to me.
“At least they’re being hygienic about it, giving us our own brands and such.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
There had to be alotof metal on the top of Bascite Mountain if they could afford to give everyone their own imprint. Although, come to think of it, the bascite on each stamp would have to sink into every person’s skin to work, leaving nothing left for the next inductee.
A moment later, Chasity clutched her head, sank to her knees, and screamed.
“Mind Manipulator,” Mr. Gleekle said, rather somber for once, but the group of older students to the left of us cheered. I stared at the girl, Chasity, who must be… reading hundreds of different minds right now, judging from the sound of her screaming. Was this how Coen Steeler had reacted when he’d been branded?
Was he in the crowd right now, cheering as she jerked and writhed?
Just as I thought this, the girl snapped upward, her arms at her side, and lumbered toward the Manipulator audience like a dead corpse walking. Someone in her new sector, I had no doubt, had just ordered her to shut up and join them.
On and on it went, and the randomness of the name calling was its own special kind of torture. Every time Mrs. Wildenberg’s hand dipped inside the sunflower hat, my breath caught in my throat. But my name was not called.
A short, curvy brown-haired girl became the first Wild Whisperer when a literal tree behind the stage reached for her with its branches and hoisted her high in the air. Another girl became the first Element Wielder when the ground shuddered beneath our chairs at her branding. One of the boys who’d tried to throw rocks at my hair-braiding monkeys became the first Shape Shifter when fangs shot from his mouth and a tail ripped from the back of his trousers.
Everyone—save for the Good Council, who sat stick-straight in their chairs and never reacted to a single branding—laughed at that, a ripple of mirth at the expense of someone else, but I kept my lips clamped shut and clutched my stomach.
If the pill suppressedallmy magic rather than just the raw, shapeless one, I would be worse off than the boy with a hole in his trousers. I didn’t even want to imagine what the Good Council would do if nothing happened at my brand’s touch. Send me back to Alderwick? Investigate me? Toss me to the pirates anyway?
Just then, Mrs. Wildenberg called Quinn’s name.
There she was, merely five columns to our left, her hair shining like liquid ruby as she stood and strode to the stage, her chin high and determination set on her face.
A face I’d known so well until yesterday.
Beside me, Lander balled his hands into fists, watching her climb onstage with a tight, clenched expression. I placed a hand on his arm.
Quinn lifted her sleeve, and Mr. Gleekle brought the brand to her bare shoulder. She barely twitched at the hiss of molten fire against her skin, and then—
Quinn’s hair exploded into flame.
Hot, living flame, dancing on her head like a turban. Thick, gray smoke billowed out from her head, more potent than all the cigarette smoke she’d ever breathed out.
The crowd of onlookers to our right burst with cheers and pulled her toward them with a lasso of wind.
As she passed us, I saw only feverish joy lighting up her face, like fire sparked in her pores as well. Part of me—the part of me that would love her no matter what and hoped she came to her senses soon—sagged in relief for her, that she didn’t have to follow in her mother’s footsteps and learn the ways of Mind Manipulating.
Beside me, tension seemed to leak from Lander’s posture as well.
The rest of the Branding seemed to speed up, names and faces and magics blurring together—until Lander himself was called up.
He rose on surprisingly steady legs, gave me a calm nod, and joined Mr. Gleekle onstage.Please let him be in Element Wielding, too,I prayed. Maybe if Lander and Quinn were in the same sector, they wouldn’t fall apart.
Lander sucked in a breath as Mr. Gleekle pushed the brand against his skin.
And fur sprouted from every inch of his body.
His form shrank and hunched, his nose lengthening and arching. Within two blinks, a humanoid anteater was standing where he had just been, and the crowd between Summoners and Wielders screamed out their approval.
