Hundreds of Makers are crowded into the Equinox for the Quorum opening ceremony. I had automatically walked over to a group I recognized from my Sire lab, but this is the spot for journey Sires. No one seems to care that I don’t belong here, except for Rafe, who hisses at me and points to a cluster of children—the apprentices—all the way on the other side of the room. But I’m too embarrassed to cross the vast space with everyone watching, so I stay. Surprisingly, Rafe doesn’t push the issue, and I can’t help but notice that there’s a lightness to his expression I’ve never seen before. It almost looks like he’s… happy.

The herald announces the arrival of the delegation from Avant. A parade of important-looking people streams into the room. I’ve been told that more dignitaries than usual will be present at this Quorum since several notable apprentices are presenting their galleries, including Hypatia and Simon, who are apparently both from high-ranking Avant families.

Suddenly, the low hum of whispers and activity quiets, and I look to the doors. An imposing man with long, wild hair enters. The aura surrounding him sucks the attention from every corner of the room. He looks straight out of a movie set, wearing a long fur coat and leather pants tucked into knee-high leather boots. His chest is bare, an impressive tattoo of a dragon spans across the left side of his chest and up his neck, and some kind of claw hangs from a cord around his neck. How many dead animals is this guy wearing?

As if he knows what I’m thinking, Rafe whispers in my ear, “Would you believe his girlfriend is a vegetarian?” I stifle a laugh, the comment so anachronistic with the pageantry of the moment. And did Rafe just make a joke? To me? He must be in a good mood.

The man looks so weird and so captivating that I can’t stop staring. His long rippling hair is midnight dark, though his beard is shot with gray. Atop his head rests a simple metal circlet.

“Prince Alexander, heir to the Blood Crown of Avant,” the herald introduces him. All of the Avant Makers—Rafe included—kiss the knuckles of their right hands. Everyone else acknowledges the prince’s presence with a deep nod of their heads.

Prince Alexander sweeps through the entrance hall. As he gets closer, I notice that each of the fingers on his right hand bears a different colored gemstone band, with two on his thumb. Six guilds. Is he a Master-of-All?

For some reason, he seems to be coming straight toward me. No, I realize, toward Rafe.