Page 27

As soon as the chasm had completely stitched back up again, the stadium tipped back into place, and we all shuddered to a halt. The girl onstage practically leapt off in her haste to get away, scrambling to join the sector to our right.

My heart pinched.

And to think this might be the last Branding ceremony this island ever sees…

Horrified at myself, I stopped my thoughts in their tracks, wishing I could take them back.

I didn’t mean that, Coen. I—

You don’t need to censor yourself for me, Rayna, he cut me off, something twisting in the tone of his words. And you’re right. If I can’t resist the command, there will be no Esholian Institute next year to even have a Branding.

His words settled to the bottom of my mind, churning with that idea I’d had last night, but Mrs. Wildenberg was already dipping her hand back into the upside-down sunflower hat to pull out another name, so I returned my focus to the stage.

“Odin Brocker!”

A lean and lanky boy with spectacles hurried to join her. When a new brand pressed against his skin, his head inflated in size, swelling into something so large that his spectacles snapped and flew off him as his head began to bobble. He teetered this way and that, trying to regain his balance. The Shape Shifters to our left all laughed and mimicked him, growing their own heads to five times the size, too.

“Shape Shifting!” Mr. Gleekle called, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

The boy named Odin Brocker joined his new sector with burning cheeks, his head slowly deflating as he stumbled his way to the stadiums without his spectacles.

“Callum Balkersaff.”

I stiffened, forgetting that Quinn’s younger brother would be joining the Esholian Institute this year. He popped out of his seat immediately, his hair a brighter shade of red than Quinn’s, sticking out in every direction. Although, come to think of it, now that Quinn had a second secret power—Shape Shifting on top of her Element Wielding—I wasn’t sure she’d decided to keep her usual ruby-red hair anyway. I hadn’t so much as seen her in passing over the dry season.

“Object Summoning!” Mr. Gleekle called after he pressed Callum’s brand against his shoulder and all the hundreds of chairs in front of him began to levitate.

The first-years shrieked, clutching the edges of their seats, but the chairs settled back into the grass before they could rise too far too quickly.

I watched Callum join his new sector, wondering what he’d think of the new version of his older sister when he saw her again. But that was none of my business.

“Sydney Proctus!” Mrs. Wildenberg called next. The girl that joined them onstage immediately sank to her knees as soon as the brand touched her shoulder.

“No! No! No! Get out! Get out! GET OUT!”

She clutched her head, and groans of sympathy permeated the crowd. I swallowed tightly, remembering that feeling all too well. The girl didn’t yet know how to form a mental blockade to cut out all the noise, and nobody seemed to be helping her.

Lowering my own blockade, I tried to spear my mind outward, hoping I could help her shield…

Before I could reach her, she shot to a stand, snapped her arms against her side, and lumbered toward the Mind Manipulator sector in a daze.

Another Mind Manipulator must have just ordered her to shut up and join her sector.

On and on it went. The next student became another Shape Shifter. The one after that an Element Wielder. Two more Mind Manipulators. An Object Summoner. I quickly lost count as I waited for the first Wild Whisperer of the year to be branded and join us.

But as the minutes pushed on and distant thunder rolled in from the sea, a quiet murmuring began to rise among our sector. Because Mrs. Wildenberg was pulling out the twentieth or thirtieth name, and there still hadn’t been a single student who had called forth a flock of birds or swarm of insects. Nobody’s new magic rustled the grass of the pentaball field or the branches of the trees behind the stage.

“My lucky day,” Wren murmured on the other side of Emelle. “Looks like we won’t have a ton of rude new kids to deal with this year.”

Despite the bite of her words, her eyes were tight with concern as she watched the next person become another Mind Manipulator. Emelle furrowed her eyebrows, and Rodhi frowned down at the stage, leaning forward as the third-to-last student’s name was called.

Mr. Gleekle pressed the brand to his shoulder. Purple spines shot out of his skin, puncturing dozens of holes through his clothing from head to toe.

“Shape Shifter!” Mr. Gleekle called, and the murmuring swelled even more.

The next student broke into terrified screeching, scrabbling at his ears as if he wanted to rip them off.

“Mind Manipulator!” Mr. Gleekle called.