A murmur ripples across the room. Graduating apprentices don’t typically get a say in where they’re sent. Most end up back in their own towns, or the towns of their mate if they are romantically attached.

“And unfortunately, any team that doesn’t apprehend the criminal in time will fail the challenge. Best of luck to all of you.”

As soon as Norah leaves the stage, the apprentices peel apart like petals on a blooming flower. One moment we’re organized into distinct sections by cloak color, and the next the room is a kaleidoscope of jumbled hues.

Tessa reaches me first. “What do you think? At least all the challenges are roughly the same. It doesn’t sound like we’ll be tortured this time.”

Jacey comes up behind us. “That’s a low standard.”

I laugh. “True, but I’m still relieved.”

One by one, the others join us. I carefully avoid Bram’s gaze.

“This game actually sounds kind of fun,” Talon says.

“Don’t be fooled,” Niklas counters. “Knowing Norah, she selected this challenge because the solution is something arcane, like locking ourselves in a wooden box and going without food and water for days.”

A throat clears behind us, and Niklas spins around to find Norah, lips pursed, one hand on her hip. “I don’t design the games myself, you know,” she says. “Nor are they difficult just for the sake of tormenting you.”

Color rushes to his cheeks. “I’m … I didn’t mean …” he stammers. “I was only joking.”

Norah’s eyes flash. She makes a dismissive, throaty sound, and then turns her attention to me. “Saskia, may I have a word?”

My pulse spikes. “I … Yes, of course.”

She gives me a curt nod. “Follow me.”

Norah’s boots click on the bone floors as we climb the stairs and make our way through the grand foyer to her office on the other side of Ivory Hall. Unease snakes through me. Maybe she has an update on Latham. The thought is surprisingly disappointing—I’ve grown attached to my own plan for revenge. Then again, maybe I’m being punished. I’ve broken so many rules that I’m not even sure what I should be most worried about.

Norah unlocks her office door and steps aside so I can enter. The room is softer than I would have expected considering her temperament. Two cream-colored plush chairs are situated opposite a large desk. Thick pale blue drapes frame tall windows. A vase of bright pink peonies sits on a low table. On the other side of the room, a cheerful fire glows in a small stone hearth.

Norah settles behind her desk, then waves me toward one of the chairs.

“Please,” she says, “make yourself comfortable.”

I sit, but I’m far from comfortable. “Is something wrong?”

“Rasmus has been removed from your security detail.”