The physical headache was gone by morning. But there was another headache about to occur.

It always took several days for all the exams to be looked at and graded. Four days later, Abi got called out of class in midmorning, and her stomach began to churn. Because she was certain—this was it. This was the moment Dudley struck. Somehow, some way, he had rigged things to make it seem as if she was cheating. But if she said anything now, if she insisted Dudley was trying to disgrace her—it would look as if she was guilty and was trying to head off an accusation. Besides, who would believe anything so absurd? Dudley had been expelled, he was now (nominally at least) in charge of his father’s business, and he had much more pressing things to think about than one girl. No one would ever believe he was holding that kind of grudge and could be that obsessive and petty.

She went where she had been sent—to Master Ketnar’s office, where she sat, hands clenched in her lap, stomach roiling, head pounding, while he looked through two sets of papers on his desk. They looked, from where she sat, like exam papers. Hers, and someone else’s. He said nothing to her; she might as well not have been there. She swallowed convulsively, not daring to speak.

Finally the door opened, and another Blue came in—she knew him by sight but didn’t know his name. “Ah, Geoffers,” Master Ketnar said, finally looking up. “Have a seat. I have a few questions for you.”

The boy took the chair, looking smug. He knows. Of course he knows. Master Ketnar made a great show out of looking through the papers one last time before speaking again. “Geoffers, your teachers have made an interesting observation. You and Abi seem to have identical exam results, right down to what was scratched out and how the problems were worked. Can you explain that?”

“’Course I can,” the boy replied arrogantly, with a grin. “She cheated. She copied my work.”

“But you were seated on opposite sides of the room!” Master Ketnar exclaimed. “How could she possibly have seen your paper to copy it?”

The boy snorted. “Simple. We all know she’s got Gifts. She’s probably got Farseeing, and never told anyone about it. That’s how she does so well. How else could she be getting the kinds of grades she is, when she only just joined the Artificer Blues? She’s been cheating all along, using Farsight to copy all our papers!”