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Beyond them, darkness covers the eastern mountains. The Headmaster waits until the final first-year enters. The gates shut behind us. The sound echoes through the courtyard. Stone against iron. Final. He looks across the assembled students.

"One hundred and twenty-four of you entered Varethia this year." His voice carries through the cold air. "Each of you arrived with a name." A pause. "A lineage. An inheritance." The black fabric around my wrist grows warm. "This morning, none of those things will guide you."

Around the courtyard, the blue flames extinguish. One by one. Darkness closes in. The Headmaster's voice remains.

"The First Trial begins now."

Chapter Six

The darkness becomes absolute.

Not the ordinary darkness of an unlit room. Not night beneath a clouded sky. This darkness has weight. It settles against my skin, fills the spaces between every breath and swallows the Eastern Courtyard so completely that even the students standing beside me disappear.

Nyra had been close enough that the sleeve of her cloak brushed mine. Now I cannot feel her. I cannot hear Rowan complaining. I cannot see the Headmaster, the professors or the six Chief Wings Officers standing on the steps. Even the Academy has vanished. For several heartbeats, there is only silence. Then someone inhales sharply to my left.

A voice whispers— "Nyra?" Not mine.

Another student calls for someone else. The sound comes strangely, as though distance has stopped behaving properly. A girl's voice seems close enough to touch, yet another answering her sounds impossibly far away. I reach toward where Nyra had been standing. My fingers close around nothing.

"Nyra?" No answer. The bracelet beneath the black covering warms against my wrist. Once. Twice. Then a voice speaks directly against my skin. Calm. Genderless. Impossible to locate.

"When the light returns, follow the path."

I wait for more. None comes. Around me, other bracelets begin delivering the same instruction, their voices overlapping until the words blur together. Follow the path. A flash of pale light cuts through the darkness. I close my eyes instinctively.

When I open them again, the courtyard is gone. I stand alone beneath trees. Not the golden forests of Elarion. Not the carefully maintained woodland surrounding my father's estate. These trees are pale. Their trunks rise impossibly straight from the earth before disappearing into a ceiling of grey mist. Their branches begin too high to reach, woven together so tightly that almost no morning light passes through.

A narrow path cuts between them. White stones. Dark soil. Mist clinging low to the ground.

No Academy towers. No mountains. No students. No sound except my own breathing. I look down. My cloak remains folded over one arm. My water flask hangs at my waist. The black fabric that concealed my number has disappeared. 117 glows faintly along my bracelet.

"Nyra?" My voice travels farther than it should. Nothing answers. I turn slowly. The path extends in both directions, identical enough that I cannot tell which way leads forward. Wonderful. The Academy has placed me in a forest without weapons, directions or any visible indication that I am still near Varethia. At least Rowan's drowning theory appears unlikely. For now.

A stone marker stands several feet away. It had not been there a moment ago. I am almost certain of that. The waist-high pillar bears the Academy crest. Words emerge across its surface as I approach. REACH THE FINAL GATE BEFORE SUNSET. Below the instruction, a small arrow points along the path to my right. Simple. Which means it is not. I inspect the surrounding trees. No movement. No hidden students. No professors waiting to criticize my decision. Only forest. The Headmaster's words return. "It is to determine whether you possess the qualities required to remain at this Academy." No pressure. I tighten the strap of my flask and begin walking.

For the first several minutes, nothing happens. The path curves gently between the trees. Mist slides around my boots. The forest remains so still that every footstep feels intrusive. I count my breaths. Not because I am frightened. Because measuring something makes the silence easier to tolerate.

At one hundred breaths, the path narrows.

At two hundred, I find another stone marker. This one bears a shorter instruction. DO NOT LEAVE THE PATH. I stop. There it is. A rule. Straightforward. Unambiguous. Immediately suspicious. I touch the stone. Cold. Solid. The lettering does not change. "Reach the gate," I murmur. "Remain on the path." Perhaps the Trial is navigation. Perhaps every rumor was needlessly dramatic. Perhaps Varethia enjoys frightening its students more than necessary.

A scream tears through the forest. I turn so quickly my cloak falls from my arm. The sound came from beyond the trees. To my left. A girl. Another scream follows. Closer.

"Help!"

Every muscle in my body tightens. I stare toward the path ahead. The marker remains at my side. DO NOT LEAVE THE PATH.

"Please!" The voice breaks. Not theatrical. Not distant. Terrified.

I take one step toward the trees. Stop. This is the Trial. The Academy knows where we are. The bracelets identify us. Professors are watching somehow. Probably. The girl screams again. That single word becomes meaningless. Probably.

"Where are you?" I call.

"Here!" The answer comes immediately. Too immediately?

I look down the path. No one appears.

"Who are you?"