I climb onto my pedestal without accepting Roman’s offered hand. I only need myself now. He gives me a long, assessing look and then moves to stand next to Willow. All the troupes gather around their apprentices. Except Xander is gone. Aristelle’s not, though. She stands in her fire-blue gown holding a giant glass orb of throbbing light. Her face, though paler than usual, is hard and unyielding, mouth set. She did what she thought she had to do, I guess. I try to find a trace of regret in her eyes. She looks down before I know for sure, but I think it’s still there. Reina and Diantha both try to make eye contact. I stare above their heads at the turning fans pushing the clouds in one direction, then the other, creating an unnatural swirl of white. Everything in this place is unnatural.

Lucius walks up among us. He begins a slow spin as he addresses the circled crowd. With all their shifting shades of blue, vying for the best position, they create a whirlpool around us, waiting for one of us to drown.

“Tonight we eliminate an apprentice. To be one of us, they must be able to call the magic to them, bend it to their will, and create illusions for humans to devour, which in turn creates the moment of belief for our magic to devour. Without nourishment, everything dies. The orbs represent the applause each apprentice collected from their performance. They will now break the orb and release their applause at the same moment. The weakest will be eliminated.”

His stare lingers on me for a second too long. “Hand over the orbs.”

Aristelle passes me mine and steps back. A glass dome blinks into existence around me.

“Drop them,” he commands.

Without hesitating, I do it. It shatters at my feet and the light swells around me. A barrage of clapping rattles my bones as the glow continues to rise to my ankles, staying just inside the perimeter of my tiny stage. I swirl around. The others glow in contained glass domes as well. Nadine’s light bubbles up to her neck. Ethan’s hits his chest and he raises his arms above it. Mine dances around my waist, growing into a loud roar. Willow’s bubbles at her knees.

Roman, face grim, stands just beside her.

Willow is losing. Nadine has her hands over her ears, grimacing from the noise she’s close to drowning in. I catch her eye as she looks out at the three of us. She finds no joy in winning.