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  Brandon pointed to the chart. "The blue line means you expelled high levels of element 1, red is element 13, yellow is element 37, and black. Well, black is what I was looking for, element 113. Had it been low there would have been no pain from the test."

  "What does this mean though?" Ren asked, rubbing his hand, remembering the pain.

  "Basically, you're able to utilize magic at a high level because of element 113. I've spent the last twelve years researching why magic is so powerful in some people but weak in others. I've concluded, when elements 113 through 127 are present, magic resides within the object or person."

  Brandon looked to the ceiling. "My hypothesis is people who expel large amounts of these elements can use magic in equal proportion to the amount they expel. However, there are always other elements that are expelled at the same time, and I'm not sure what to make of those."

  "How much do you expel?" Ren asked. "Have you ever tested yourself?"

  Brandon looked away from the ceiling and made direct eye contact with Ren, something he'd only done a handful of times before. Ren assumed it had always been an accident, but this time was no accident.

  "I have, and it's nowhere near your levels." He shifted his stance, looked away, and shook his shoulders. "Now it's time we speak with the diplomats. They'll know how to answer your questions better."

  Since Ren expelled more of the higher elements why had Brandon always been a superior magic user? He'd always been the one teaching and pushing Ren to control his energy flow. Yet until today, Ren thought it a myth that magic could throw a person across the room.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU," Brandon said as he ran his hands through his hair. "Henry shows high levels of element 113. Earlier today he knocked a young man across an alley with an energy pulse. Now the question here is not a matter of if he is telling the truth, but what is to be done about it."

  Ren sat on the sofa to the side of the office and gazed at the corner of Brandon's desk where a crack was forming in the clear crystal. Every time Brandon raised his voice the crack spread ever so slightly. The two diplomats sat before Brandon in armchairs, wearing their dark-wine robes that had seemed black at first.

  It's a shame for the crystal to crack, it is so pristine, Ren thought.

  Why should it be any less pristine for having cracked? Crystals naturally crack. Does it make them less impressive? Ren heard.

  Ren's eyes darted up to see who had spoken about his thought, but only Sarah—one of the Amethyst Nation's diplomats—was speaking, and the voice had been a man's. Odd.

  "The boy is older than we prefer for a first attempt," Sarah said. She spoke on behalf of the two of them. Her skin was a warm cinnamon, meaning she came from the Emerald Nation. "Besides Pearl Nation hasn't produced a sorcerer worthy of our tutelage for 338 selections."

  The two diplomats crossed their arms in unison as if her argument proved it impossible for Ren to be qualified. Even Ren saw the flaw in her logic—one advantage to growing up in a scientific society. He watched transfixed as she pouted her lips and narrowed her green eyes—dark eyeliner gave her a fearsome stare.

  "Yes," Brandon said. "But with the last selection, we produced eleven of the greatest sorcerers to ever live. No other nation has come close." His ears were red.

  Ignore them, Ren. Tell me why you want to be a sorcerer, Ren heard again but realized it was in his mind.

  Who are you! Ren looked between the three of them trying to decide who it was.

  Marcel pulled his hood back, revealing a face of an old man whose skin had turned to leather. He wore a short beard grayed from time. "This argument will stop."

  Silence filled the room. As it lingered the crack in Brandon's desk receded.

  "This matter is no longer of concern to you Brandon," Marcel continued. "You've done your duties well for this would-be sorcerer. It is high time we hear what Ren has to say. What do you remember?"

  You can tell me with your mind, Marcel transmitted to Ren.

  It caught Ren off guard that the diplomat would use his nickname. Regardless he tried to remember what happened during the fight. Light, orange-light. First, it engulfed him, bathing him in warmth. Then an orb appeared, and a blue pulse knocked Jonathan and the girl out.

  Orange? Are you sure it was not white light? Marcel transmitted to Ren.

  Quit reading my thoughts!

  Close your mind.

  Sarah raised her hand to between her beautiful eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Ren felt her gaze upon him—a tangible weight on his skull, like the time a snow-pile from the school's roof buried him.

  "Well?" Marcel asked. "What do you remember?"

  Sarah spoke in a low growl, "He has seen Orange then blue, but never white."

  The old man stood, using the chair's arms to push himself up.

  "Brandon, it is time you left us. There are several other pupils in the next room who need your guidance and to be reminded it's unbecoming to spy on a private conversation."

  There was a noise from behind the office door, either Julie or Gareth fell.

  "You can't dismiss me from my office," Brandon said. "I've spent the last twenty years of my life earning this seat. I'm the most knowledgeable man in the Pearl Nation regarding magic."

  "Today you are third, and unqualified to sit in on this council."

  Brandon's eyes tightened, and his mouth turned to a flat line. Ren couldn't imagine the anger steaming below the surface. He wouldn't be surprised to see Brandon strike the old man. Instead, Brandon looped his satchel over his shoulder and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  A small piece of crystal fell from the corner of his desk.

  "Now Ren," Marcel relaxed his shoulders and shifted toward Ren. "Are you sure about the orange light? Sarah can see thoughts, but she has never been able to discern lies from truths."

  "Marcel. There are more civilized ways of asking the young man about what he saw rather than implying he lied."

  "I didn't lie!"

  "Of course not," Marcel sat back down in his chair. "You only thought. Lies require voice, something Sarah forgets. Thoughts are always true. That's why magic exists and why your sciences are a limiting view. It's only once you speak to deceive that you've lied, but there's always the chance your memory is wrong."

  "Enough," Sarah said. "The boy isn't here for a lecture in morality, logic, or physics. Tell us what you remember. And you, don't interrupt him with your thoughts."

  * * *

  REN SPENT THE NEXT HOUR recounting his day, trying to keep a linear story in his mind. From the vivid dream of himself as a child in his mother's arms to sitting in the meeting. But for every step he took forward, he would flash back to something that happened to him days, months, or even years ago. The whole time he could feel Sarah and Marcel inside his mind.

  When he was seven, there had been a bird on the beach with a broken wing and while the other children poked it with a stick, he imagined it flying away. The bird suddenly spread its wings and took off with a flock of birds overhead.

  When recounting running to meet Brandon, he remembered the first time Johnathan had ever picked a fight with him at school, the class was showing their art projects. Ren changed everyone's shoes to a different color. Johnathan asked for silver, and when Ren changed them, they'd turned to pure silver. The class teased Johnathan for needing more silver than his father, and from then on, they'd been enemies. Ren had forgotten how their rivalry started, it had gone on for so long.

  When he reached Brandon testing him, Sarah stopped him. "That will suffice."

  Your thoughts are vivid for one so young. I'm sorry I could not see your mother to describe her to you, Marcel transmitted.

  "Enlightening," Marcel said.

  "Ren, will you wait in here while we talk with Brandon?" Sarah asked.

  Ren realized the time. "I can't. I should have been back to the orphanage thirty minutes ago. Mr. Griffin is going to cane me in front of the other children for being so late."

  "We will see to that," they said in unison.

  "Wait here," Sarah said. "We'll be quick. Then we'll take you home."

  "It's not my home," Ren said under his breath as they left.

  It won't have to be for much longer, Marcel transmitted.

  Ren stared at the corner of the crystal desk, transfixed. What would have caused the crystal to break? He picked up the small fragment. The fragment was pristine aside from the fact it wasn't part of the desk anymore. He wiggled the piece back into the corner it fell from. After rotating the piece a few times, it clicked in place, fusing into the larger crystal which made the desk's top. The corner was as flawless as the first time he saw it.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "JULIE, GARETH, IT'S TIME FOR you both to leave," Brandon said, as he passed them. "I need to examine a few charts while the Amethyst Nation's diplomats speak with Henry. I'll contact you both when I have more answers."

  "What do they want with him?" Julie asked. "I've been able to levitate small objects in any direction for years. Ren just learned how to lift objects. They should examine me."

  "Go home." Brandon's tone made it clear she had crossed a line.

  Brandon wasn't sure how much longer he could remain civil. Julie and Gareth protested further, but Brandon held his hand up for them to be silent. After several more comments about it not being fair, they both left, leaving Brandon alone.

  Brandon pulled a portable terminal out of his satchel and examined Ren's charts. Ren's expulsion of element 113 was several times higher than he'd ever seen before.

  The closest he could recall was an old artifact he'd shown Ren that had high levels of expulsion. If his theory was correct, levels of expulsion directly correlated to magical strength. He suspect
ed the artifact dated back to the formation of their planet, but that didn't make sense given the artifact looked like a pearl—the size of his fist—encircled by golden rope.

  Brandon never forgave himself for allowing it to be broken. Afterward, it lay in a pile of fragments the size of small pebbles. Was it a coincidence, like he'd thought? A freak accident? Or did Ren's abilities somehow interact with the artifact? One second the artifact sat on the counter, the next it lay in a shattered pile.

  Brandon went to room Alpha 9, determined to test himself again. He set up the probe and strapped the orb into the center of his fist. Sweat dripped into his eyes. If the test was positive there'd be pain, but Brandon feared the lack of pain more, proof his levels were too low.

  Lasers flashed, and Brandon's palm ached, but it only reddened. The terminal showed it all.

  Element 9 high, element 7 heightened, element 23 slightly elevated, and element 116 less than 15% above normal. Ren's element 113 was 10 times higher than Brandon's element 116.

  Brandon chucked the portable terminal into the probe. "AH!"

  A purple flash erupted from the probe.

  * * *

  THE DIPLOMATS FOUND BRANDON UNCONSCIOUS, sprawled out upon the tile floor. Foam bubbled out from his mouth. Sarah prevented Marcel from entering the room. The probe rotated between the spectrum of colors, while the terminal on the wall displayed several colored lines in the higher quadrant of the screen.

  "He needs medical attention."

  "He'll be fine," Marcel said. "His energy was drained from the same test he used on Ren."

  Sarah stepped cautiously. "The device looks similar to what I saw in his mind."

  She found sterilized cloth in a drawer which she used to clean Brandon's face. His pants were stained—he'd pissed himself. Confident he'd live, she left him on the floor but placed a glass of water beside him. He'd be dehydrated when he woke up.

  "Ren will be reluctant to leave Brandon in such a condition."

  "It can't be helped," Marcel said. "He must cast off the shadow of his previous mentor and learn to embrace a new one. It'll be hard at first, but with time he'll adapt to the Amethyst Nation. As we did."

  "Orange is unknown to us," she said. "We don't know what temperaments will manifest within him."

  "High Sorcerer Emmerich will know the best course of action," he said. "Provided the boy passes the tests to become a sorcerer."

  "Which isn't likely," she said.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "WE'VE AGREED YOU SHOULD ATTEND the examination in three weeks," Sarah said.

  Ren was still examining the crystal desk when the diplomats returned. Ren stood hastily to greet them, and when he glanced at the desk, the pattern was gone.

  "You must leave soon to make it there in time for the beginning ceremonies," Sarah took the seat across from Ren. "They'll start four days before the actual examination, and it's customary to demonstrate your abilities to the audiences gathered at the capital."

  "I have no way of getting there."

  "You'll find a way," Marcel took Brandon's seat behind the desk. "We'll compel Brandon to offer assistance in getting you there. However, he must not accompany you."

  "We feel it would be best," Sarah said.

  "How will I buy passage to the Sapphire Nation?" Ren asked. "I have nowhere to stay when I get there, and how will I buy food? I'm an orphan with no prospect of an inheritance which means I can't borrow against my name. Brandon is my mentor, but I can't borrow credits from him. I'd never be able to pay him back."

  Marcel leaned forward onto his elbows, with his fingers interlocked and his chin resting atop his hands. "Global mandates prohibit us from interfering with three things: the internal politics of a nation, the trade between nations, and the pre-examined. However, this last one offers a gray area. We're able to assist Brandon in his assistance of you."

  He's already been examined and failed, so he offers a loophole for you, Marcel transmitted to Ren.

  "Aren't you interfering with me right now?"

  "This has been addressed many times," Sarah said. "The basic guideline is, as long as we don't directly help or hinder someone who intends to take the examination, it's not considered interfering."

  "We can talk to you all day, so long as we don't tell you what to do or how to do it," Marcel said. "It's time we get Ren here home," Sarah pointed to the clock on the wall behind Ren. "It's late. The city will switch to conservation mode soon."

  Ren had forgotten about the time. He knew Mr. Griffin would be angrier than ever before. Ren never stayed out so late, and to top it off, he'd missed his after-dinner chores.

  Sarah stood and gestured it was time to leave. "Come, we'll walk you home."

  "Where's Brandon?"

  "He's not feeling well," Marcel said. "You'll see him tomorrow."

  As they walked him home, one-third of the street lights shut off to start the conservation cycle. Glass orbs the size of Ren's head received wirelessly transmitted energy from the city's central power station. As the glow from the city's lights faded, Ren noticed just how black the night sky was, a complete void.

  The large standalone house which functioned as the orphanage loomed over Ren from the far end of the street. His stomach tightened, and he slowed down. Was he about to puke? Dread over what Mr. Griffin would do overwhelmed him. Ren doubted that Mr. Griffin would understand even with the diplomats being with him. The fact Ren was being recommended for examination would likely push Mr. Griffin over the edge.

  Ren looked through the front window. The lights were off inside. Sarah reached past Ren and pushed the doorbell before he could do anything to stop her.

  "I'm going to be in serious trouble," Ren said, his voice quavering.

  They spoke in unison, "We'll take care of it."

  The door swung open—Mr. Belfry Jr. stood in the doorway.

  Shit!

  Indeed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "THE DELINQUENT FINALLY RETURNS," Mr. Belfry Jr. said looking from Ren to his companions. "And who are you? Has he caused you trouble?"

  "On the contrary," Marcel said. "We're here to see that Ren made it home safely."

  Mr. Griffin stepped forward and opened the door wide enough for the two men to stand arm to arm in the doorway. With teeth bared he brandished his cane in warning. Ren knew he'd be on the receiving end of it again.

  "We're diplomats of the Amethyst Nation," Sarah said. "Might we come in?"

  "At this hour of night?" Mr. Griffin stepped onto the front stair, nose to nose with Sarah. "I think not. Ren should be in bed asleep. Anything you need to say can be said tomorrow."

  "I'm afraid we have to insist." Marcel tugged Sarah back a step. The two stood guard in front of Ren.

  Mr. Griffin's face drew tight. "How I choose to discipline the children here is none of your concern. Now good evening, sir."

  He reached to grab Ren through the two diplomats. Marcel swiftly grabbed Mr. Griffin's wrist. The cane flew from his grasp, arching through the air to be snatched up by Sarah. Mr. Griffin was laid out on the stairs looking up at Ren. Ren was watching closely, but he hadn't seen what Marcel had done—it happened to fast.

  Marcel leaned over Mr. Griffin. "I think we'll be having a chat now. Perhaps a hot cup of tea?"

  "Unless," Sarah said, "you'd like to explain why you attacked two diplomats."

  Mr. Belfry Jr. cleared his throat. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Right, Mark?"

  Mr. Griffin grumbled under his breath and said, "Right. Ren can make your tea."

  Marcel helped Mr. Griffin to his feet, and the five of them made their way to Mr. Griffin's study.

  Mr. Griffin and Mr. Belfry Jr. took the armchairs flanking the sofa, leaving Ren, Marcel, and Sarah to share the sofa. Quietly, the two diplomats took their seats.

  Before Ren could sit, Mr. Griffin said, "Ren, go make the diplomats and us some tea."

  "That would be nice," Sarah said, looking to Ren with a reassuring smile. "And allow us a moment to speak."

  As Ren closed the door behind him, he heard Mr. Belfry Jr. speak in an aggressive tone. He better understood where Johnathan got his attitude.

  The children in the house were already asleep, leaving Ren alone in the kitchen. He placed the kettle on the stovetop and opened the pantry to evaluate the tins of tea. Considering the varieties, he settled on a Robust Red from the north tip of the Emerald Nation. One of the more expensive teas on hand, usually served for ceremonial purposes—hosting diplomats of the Amethyst Nation seemed like an appropriate ceremony.