It’s a section of the building usually off-limits to apprentices, so Norah meets us at the guest entrance on the main level and guides us up the curving staircase. The only sound is the click of our boots against the bone floors as we climb. We pass the tension around the group like a musical ensemble sharing a melody—Bram tugs at the back of his neck, leaving a bright red handprint against his skin; Niklas incessantly spins the silver ring around his finger; Tessa chews her lip; Jacey’s hands curl into fists; and Talon’s pale fingers tap against his leg as if his thoughts are searching for a rhythm. My secrets have burned a hole in my center, and I feel hollowed out and empty.

When we reach the top floor, Norah turns and gives us a gentle smile. “Try to relax. You’ll do fine.”

But I’m not convinced any of this will turn out fine. I lay awake deep into the night, haunted by the resigned despair of Jensen’s expression when we left him, as if he’d already glimpsed the future and knew nothing good awaited him there.

But when Norah pulls open the doors to the council chamber, every thought flies out of my head. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Sunlight spills through the banks of floor-to-ceiling stained-glass windows on both our left and our right. Beneath our feet, a giant map of the Shard is inlaid into the bone floor with brilliant blue sapphire, the branches of the river spilling out richly in all directions. Straight ahead is a tall dais with ten thrones intricately carved from bone. Each features a mosaic design fashioned from gems—a different color for each of the bone magics. The Charmer’s throne features a blooming rose of rubies, the Watcher’s has an emerald eagle, the Mason’s a set of tools in vivid spessartite. Beside me, Bram gives a low whistle, and I follow his gaze to the Breaker’s throne, which has two crossed swords made from silver-lined obsidian. And next to it, the Healer’s seat features two open hands fashioned from sapphire, while the Mixer’s chair has a mortar and pestle made from amethyst. The four chairs for the non-magical members of the council are resplendent as well, each of them inlaid with intricate designs in mahogany.

“Well, that’s not intimidating at all,” Talon says. “My gramps decorated his dining room in this same style.”

We all laugh, and I feel the knot in my chest loosen just a little.

“I’ll tell them you’re ready,” Norah says. She makes her way to the front of the room and raps her knuckles on the plain wooden door behind the dais.