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“And thank you for this honor. I’m… delighted to have been selected.”

Just like that, the stances of the other pre-elites relaxed slightly, fingers loosening. Mr. Gleekle’s smile seemed to brighten into something almost genuine. He clapped his hands together and gestured for me to follow.

“It’s our pleasure, Ms. Drey, our pleasure. Now, if you’ll follow me…”

The rumble of party music faded behind us, quickly swallowed by the croaking and chirping of nocturnal animals and insects as Mr. Gleekle led us away from campus, deeper into jungle territory.

Casual conversation had broken out all around me, but even as the other pre-elites talked amongst themselves, I noticed they kept pace before me, behind me, and on all sides of me. Locking me in like a caged animal.

Was this custom, to treat a new member like a rabid marmoset? Or had Dyonisia told them I might try to resist? That I couldn’t be trusted to comply? If so, she had a better handle on me than I’d initially anticipated… which meant I needed to play this smart.

In the buzz of jungle night life around us, nobody noticed the soft melody I let loose, my fingers trailing along the bark of trees we passed.

Finally, the twisting boughs of stranger figs began to choke out every other tree, their songs a low, deep baritone in my ears. As soon as we crested a hill, I saw the same structure I’d discovered with Rodhi and Dazmine last year: a stone platform embedded in the bottom of a basin below us, surrounded by vine-cloaked pillars.

“Just down here, then,” Mr. Gleekle instructed.

We all clambered down the hill until we were stepping onto the stone. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and rain began to splat onto the platform until Mr. Gleekle raised a single hand.

The rain stopped immediately, like an invisible shield had been anchored into place above our heads.

Feeling more trapped than ever, I tried to keep my breathing even, my face controlled when the other pre-elites formed another semi-circle behind Mr. Gleekle. Their conversations died off as everyone turned their full attention onto me again.

With all those eyes on me, I felt like a first-year who’d just climbed onto a giant stage all over again. Quinn’s were especially uncomfortable, searing into me with the heat of the fire I knew she could wield at the tip of her fingertips.

“Well, then, shall we begin?” Mr. Gleekle turned to face me. His forehead gleamed—with condensation or sweat, I wasn’t sure, but I had a feeling he was just as nervous as I was for some absurd reason.

I forced myself to nod.

“Fantastic! Now, Ms. Drey, I know this might come as a slight surprise, but the Good Council believes that certain citizens such as yourself—” Mr. Gleekle smiled conspiratorially, as if I was supposed to feel pleased that I had been singled out. “—deserve more power in order to protect and lead this island. Therefore, your initiation ceremony involves just one more little pinch.”

And from the sky, lowered on a string of wind, dropped an all-too familiar object that painted dread all over my bones.

A poker. A brand.

I stared at the head of the metal imprinted with the Esholian crest as Mr. Gleekle took hold of it. One of the five types of bascite was already melded into it, but I’d have no way of knowing which one it was until it sunk into my skin and bloodstream. Unless, maybe, I asked.

“Will it strengthen my Wild Whispering?” I asked.

I knew the answer would be no—beyond the fact that nobody had been gifted Wild Whispering this year, I knew the goal was to expand our powers, not enhance them—but maybe Mr. Gleekle’s answer would give me some insight.

At the very least, it would stall the inevitable. Because part of me still believed Coen would emerge from the swaying shadows around us at any second.

Mr. Gleekle shook his head. “Excellent question, Ms. Drey, but not exactly. Every time you are Branded, a new power will take shape in your bloodstream. We have no way of knowing what that new power will be until you are branded again.”

Liar. He knew exactly what new power he was giving me, because the Good Council and Dyonisia controlled everything.

I could only hope it would be Mind Manipulating again. Maybe if that was the magic they’d chosen for me, it would only enhance what I already had rather than overload my system with a different one.

“Usually,” Mr. Gleekle continued, “we would have a mentor picked out for you to begin helping you master your new magic as soon as initiation is over.” Here, his brows creased momentarily in a frown before he remembered to plaster on his cheery mask. “But in your case, the Good Council has picked out a… special mentor who will arrive at the Esholian Institute within the next few days.”

The other pre-elites stirred behind him, and I frowned.

A special mentor? Who could it possibly be? And wouldn’t I be a liability, if I were given a power without any guidance? I remembered how hard it had been to get even the smallest grip on my Mind Manipulating in that lighthouse. It had taken all of Garvis’s patience to help me build a blockade around my mind.

Garvis, who was not here because someone from the Good Council had murdered him.

And I was about to join those ranks of murderers.