So I bury my fear deep inside myself, then settle into a chair and pull the first broken bone from the nutrient solution. Gran’s bones were originally prepared for my kenning, so each represents a set of different potential futures. I close my eyes and begin to explore.

I lose all sense of time or place as I wander down the different directions Latham’s life could have taken. I see him as a baby, a child, a young man. I see him meet my mother. On another path, he never encounters her at all. But each has some branch point that involves the Grand Council—it must be why he chose to break these particular bones.

“The Grand Council is corrupt,” he tells Avalina on one path. The two of them are walking through the streets of Kastelia City on a warm evening after a rainstorm. The cobbles are slick and shimmering in the lamplight.

Avalina threads her fingers through his. “What makes you say that?”

“They’ve been hoarding power for years.” His thumb traces slow circles along her palm. “They want to limit it for everyone but themselves.”

“What do you mean? Lots of people in Kastelia have magic. How could the Grand Council hoard it even if they wanted to?”

Latham gives her a gentle smile. “Did you know that there weren’t always binding ceremonies?”

She tilts her head and looks up at him. “Really?”

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Really. People who had magic used to be able use it however they were able. But then the Grand Council decided too few people had too much power, and they started to assign new apprentices to specialize in one small area. And since unused magic withers and dies, it was an effective way to limit power.”

Avalina’s brow wrinkles. “But you said the council was hoarding power.”

“Yes,” Latham says, “because the rules don’t apply to them. Council members are allowed to use any magic they wish. Bound or not.”

“But the binding ceremony happens so young. Wouldn’t their magic have been limited long before they were appointed to the council?”

“Exactly,” Latham says, clearly pleased by the question. “Those members had to have been using unbound magic their entire careers. For well-connected, powerful families, the rules aren’t enforced. While others face death for the same crimes.”

Slow horror spreads over Avalina’s expression. “That’s horrible.”

He squeezes her hand. “I’m going to change it. With you by my side, we can change the world.”

Outside the vision, my breath catches. Before my mother died, we had a very similar conversation about the binding ceremony. Her words echo in my memory: It used to be that magic was allowed to develop naturally, without so many boundaries. But now bones are bought and sold. Magic comes at a price. And we all suffer for the loss.