Page 14 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
“Gil is best friends with a bug now,” Wren answered on cue, “and Rayna’s being suspiciously quiet.” I whirled to gape at her, my head pounding in response, but she just continued with, “How was trying to woo Ms. Pincette again?”
Rodhi didn’t even question her assumption. He just pressed his forehead into his hands and sighed.
“Dismal, actually. I thought I’d win this round, but... maybe it’s time for another strategy.”
I cleared my throat, determined to contradict Wren’s assessment that I was beingsuspiciously quiet—especially as that knife handle dug into my hip from the position I was sitting in.Suspicious, indeed.
“You make it sound like you’re in a war, Rodhi.”
Rodhi threw his arm around me and squeezed. “Sometimes, unrequited love requires one to enter the battlefield, darling.”
“Oh, spare us.” Wren glanced at Gileon, who was still conversing amiably with the rhino beetle on his outstretched finger.
Perhaps she would have said more, but Emelle pointed at the pentaball field and said, “Look, I think it’s starting.”
Sure enough, the hundreds of conversations around us trickled to a quiet as the class royals led the newest inductees to their rows of seats. I watched, my blood curdling within me, as Dyonisia herself led Lexington and three other Good Council elites to the five chairs lined up right in front of the stage beneath strings of Element Wielder lights.
But it was the small-boned elitebehindLexington who caught my attention. I squinted at her as she sat on the other side of him.
“It’s Kimber,” I whispered to Emelle and Rodhi, tracking the yellow parakeet on her shoulder. I couldn’t decipher her expression from this distance, but the fact that she reallywashere, right after her sister had been exiled… I wondered what she thought of it all. If she still wanted to be part of the Good Council after they’d done that to a member of her own family.
But more than that, I wondered why Dyonisia had even brought Kimber rather than a more experienced Wild Whisperer. Those two elites who’d exiled Jenia had admitted that her older sister was as low-ranking as it got.
I was missing something, I was sure. Some vital piece of information about Dyonisia’s motive. But I didn’t have time todwell on it as our president, Mr. Gleekle, clambered onstage and began his speech.
“Welcome, young ladies and gentlemen, to the annual Branding!” He stretched his arms wide, his voice amplified on the streams of wind that he sent out with his Element Wielder magic. “I want to personally congratulate you all on reaching this crucial stage in your cultivation as worthy citizens of Eshol.”
It was much the same as last year, except now I didn’t have nerves weighing down in my belly. In fact, I was pretty sure I must have blacked out from those nerves last year, because the more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t remember the details of my own Branding at all. Just waiting and waiting for my name to be called, and then finding Jagaros beside me.
I wondered where he was at now, whether or not he was watching from the mountainside, as the elderly Mrs. Wildenberg dipped her hand into a giant upside-down sunflower hat and pulled out the first name for Mr. Gleekle to read.
“Manhi Wood!”
A terrified, shaking eighteen-year-old boy walked to the stage, attempting to keep his head high. We all waited with bated breath after Mr. Gleekle pressed the brand-headed poker onto his shoulder, imprinting him with the Esholian star.
Scales erupted all over the boy’s body. The Shape Shifters to the left of us screamed with approval, morphing their own bodies into an identical reptilian humanoid, and the boy sauntered over to them.
On and on it went. I found myself watching the Good Council instead: Dyonisia’s pristine posture and sheet of shimmering black hair, Kimber’s parakeet jutting from her shoulder, Lexington’s lifted chin.
It wasn’t until Wilder’s name was called that I jerked my throbbing head back to the stage.
I’d forgotten about him. Again. Guilt made itself a knot in my stomach as I watched him march up to Mr. Gleekle and roll up his sleeve, exposing his left shoulder to the new brand pulled out especially for him.
He’s not my friend. I didn’t regret those words, not when they might have kept Lexington from getting too interested in him… but I still absolutely sucked for not seeking him out and apologizing afterward.
I winced when Mr. Gleekle pressed the brand against Wilder’s skin, but Wilder himself didn’t. He just stared straight ahead, his fists clenched at his sides.
“C’mon, Wild Whispering,” I muttered, and Emelle gave me a strange sideways glance. I’d explain it to her later. Right now, I was just hoping Wilder’s random burst of magic would align with his family’s wishes, for his sake.
The next second, however, Widler’s fists flew to his head, and he clutched either side of his ears. As if he’d burst with the same kind of pain tormenting my own head right now.
“Shit.” I leaned back. It was the classic sign of Mind Manipulating—to suddenly hear a thousand different thoughts would drive anyone crazy at first. Mr. Gleekle confirmed it a moment later, and Wilder stumbled toward the Manipulating section, looking dazed.
“Do you know him?” Emelle whispered to me.
“He’s from Alderwick. I—he’s always wanted to be a Wild Whisperer.”
But as soon as I said that, I wasn’t sure that was actually true. Had Wilder eversaidhe wanted to be a Wild Whisperer, or just that his family wanted him to be? What if he had actually been rooting for a different sector? What if he was happy to learn the art of Mind Manipulating?
