Niklas leans forward in his chair. “Do you have a mastery tattoo?”

“Of course,” Jensen says.

“May we see it?”

One of the Grand Council members—a woman without bone magic—clears her throat. “That’s an unusual request. Why are you asking?”

“While preparing for this case, I did some research on the time before the binding ceremony was introduced. And it led me to believe that mastery tattoos are different when more than one specialty is conquered.”

She gives him an appraising look. “Different how?”

“Their design indicates the number of different magic elements that have been mastered. For example, a double-edged sword for someone who learned two different types of magic, a block-shaped design for someone who controlled four.”

The Grand Council members whisper to one another, clearly impressed. They hadn’t expected any of us to know such a fact, let alone think to ask about it.

But my mother knew.

A drumbeat of panic builds in my chest. Blood rushes in my ears.

I hear my mother’s voice in my head. Your mastery tattoo has three corners. I didn’t fully understand what she meant at the time.

Suddenly I feel as if I am in the witness seat. As if the Grand Council will demand I pull up my sleeve to reveal what lies beneath. And all the evidence they need to convict me will be rendered in graceful, curving lines in hues of violet and cobalt. With a jolt, I realize I’ll have to hide my tattoo forever, not just until I’m further along in my training. It will testify against me for my entire life.

“Very insightful,” the council member tells Niklas. Then she turns to Jensen. “Typically, we would never ask to see a tattoo without the consent of the witness, but I believe a good case has been made for revealing yours. Pull up your sleeve, please.”

Jensen complies. His mastery tattoo is a pair of wings.

“We have to convict him,” Jacey says.

The Grand Council removed the witnesses and left the six of us alone to discuss our decision. We moved from the dais to the benches in the front row of the chamber.

“We don’t have to do anything,” I say. “Our instructions said that the Grand Council would abide by our decision, so let’s do the right thing and find him not guilty.”

Tessa lays a palm on my forearm. “But, Saskia, this is a test. The challenge is to see if we will make the same ruling they would. And they’d convict him.”

“What did Jensen do that was so terrible?” I can hear the edge in my voice, but I can’t seem to soften it. “He saved a child’s life. We’re really going to send him to rot on Fang Island for that?”