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The rest of the men, she didn’t care about; they just wanted her gone anyway. But Bringham had done so much for her. She had to say thank you. She had to apologize for letting him down.

“If you could just give us a few moments,” Alba said.

“No.” Straightening up, Sciona tugged her robes into order and ran her fingers through her short hair.

If she allowed herself another moment with her emotions, she wouldn’t be able to face Bringham.

And she had to. He deserved an apology. “I’m ready now.

” Holding her head high, she pushed past the secretary out of the restroom.

She hadn’t quite prepared for Archmage Bringham to ambush her right outside the door.

“Freynan, there you are!” he beamed, and before Sciona got a chance to wonder why he was grinning, he did something even stranger.

He hugged her.

Archmages did not hug , in Sciona’s experience. The shock was so profound that, crushed in his arms, she barely registered his next words.

“We did it!”

“Wh-what?”

“Or I should say, you did it.” Bringham drew back to hold her shoulders in a grip vibrating with excitement. “You did it, you brilliant girl!” His voice cracked like a boy’s—like he could cry. “You’re in!”

“She’s in?” Alba screamed.

“I’m in?” Sciona said blankly.

“Archmage Orynhel announced it in the waiting chamber, but you weren’t there.”

“But… how?” Sciona said weakly.

“Walk with me, Miss Freynan. Miss Livian, if you’d give us a moment?”

“Yes, Archmage,” Alba said, glowing with joy. “Of course! Oh! Oh!” Seemingly at a loss for what else to do with herself, Alba turned and hugged the secretary, who looked as stunned as Sciona herself. “She did it!”

Putting an arm around Sciona’s shoulders, Bringham steered her down a deserted hallway away from the restrooms and the waiting chamber.

“I don’t understand,” Sciona confessed as soon as they were out of earshot of Alba and the secretary.

“What’s not to understand, my child?”

“I didn’t… I should be disqualified. I broke the ceiling!”

“Did you ever!” Bringham laughed. “Don’t worry. The maids have almost got the mess cleaned up as we speak. And those crusty murals needed touching up anyway.”

“But I didn’t follow Archmage Duris’s instructions.”

“Oh, stuff Duris.”

“I—what?”

“Excuse my language, but Duris doesn’t actually have the authority to end an applicant’s examination. He likes to throw tantrums, yes, but only the Archmage Supreme can call the end of an examination. You were right to hold your ground and ignore him. Never forget how to do that, Sciona.”

“Do what, sir?”

“Know your rights, know your spells, and press on past the detractors—or through them, if you must. It’s a skill you’ll need over and over again in the High Magistry.”

“Right.” As an idealistic child, Sciona had assumed that highmages and archmages all supported each other, despite their differences; how else could they work the miracles that kept Tiran running?

After years of working for Bringham, she knew that powerful mages could be as uncooperative as anyone and that miracles were hard-won.

“Can I tell you a secret, Miss Freynan?” Bringham lowered his voice with a conspiratorial smile. “I was the one who put the industrial cauldron in Duris’s head.”

“You what?”

“I let him think it was his idea, of course, but I needed the Council to see the sheer power of your siphoning abilities. After that, there wasn’t much to discuss. They had to accept you.”

“Had to?” Sciona still didn’t follow. Was there anything in the world the Mage Council really had to do?

“Well, with the expansion project coming up, we need solid sourcers—genuinely exceptional innovators in the field of mapping and siphoning, not just passable legacy inductees.”

“I haven’t heard about any expansion.”

“Oh, right! Of course!” Bringham batted himself in the forehead. “It hasn’t been publicized yet, but our much-needed barrier expansion has finally, finally gotten approval from the city.”

“Oh my God!” Sciona felt her eyes go wide. “That expansion? The expansion? It’s really happening?”

“It’s really happening.” Bringham looked as giddy as Sciona. “This year, if we can get the plans together. But shh,” he winked. “There’s going to be a big announcement in two days.”

“That’s a lot of spellwork to get together,” Sciona said in awe and a simmering undercurrent of something more. Hunger.

“You’ll be briefed on your role before you start at your new lab.”

Her new lab… her own lab . A chance to work on the most ambitious magic since Tiran’s founding. It was surreal.

“I was supposed to wait until the Council finalized the decision before telling you, but I think the research you’ll be assigned is obvious.”

She shook her head.

“Mapping innovation,” Bringham said. “You’re going to be looking into ways to source enough energy for the barrier expansion.”

“What?” That had to be a joke.

“You’ll be among a few highmages putting forth proposals—including your predecessor in my lab, Cleon Renthorn—so it isn’t as though the sourcing will all fall to you, but I have every confidence that your contribution will be significant.”

Sciona’s body didn’t feel real, but her mind was already racing, digging into this prompt of all prompts: how to source enough power to expand Tiran’s barrier. Already, she was itching for her pen to start making notes, start sketching spellwebs.

“But…” Sobering doubt caught up to her, insisting that all of it was too good to be true. “They would never give this project to a novice highmage—or anyone less than an archmage—would they? It’s too important.”

“Normally, you’d be correct,” Bringham said.

“But Tiran’s key mapper was Archmage Ardona, God keep his soul.

That’s not to diminish Archmage Gamwen’s skill; he’s a genius in his own right, but he’s had his hands full making up for Ardona’s absence.

He simply doesn’t have the time to devote to a massive new project on top of all the day-to-day responsibilities he’s inherited, and Archmage Thelanra, bless his heart, hasn’t been sharp enough for manual sourcing in years.

This examination was specifically held to find a new mage who could source— really source—at the level of a Gamwen or an Ardona. ”

“I see…” It made sense. With the exception of Jerrin Mordra, Sciona’s fellow applicants had all been strong mappers and siphoners. This was probably how Bringham had gotten Sciona’s sourcing-heavy resume considered in the first place.

“What did I tell you, Freynan?” Bringham radiated pride. “This is your time.”

“I… Archmage Bringham…” Damn it. Now, after everything, she was going to cry. “I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you for this. For everyth—”

“No, my dear.” Bringham held up a finger. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Cry?

“Credit me or anyone else for your success. As it is, other people will try to credit me for the purpose of tearing you down. Be cold, be hard, and don’t give them an inch, you understand? No matter what they say of you.”

“What will they say?” Sciona asked. Or rather—“What are they saying?”

“Oh, the sort of nonsense you’d expect,” Bringham sighed, “that you manipulated your way here, that I pulled strings for you to serve my own ambitions, that the Mage Council only entertained your application to appease City Chair Nerys.”

“Nerys?” Sciona said in surprise. “I didn’t think she’d be re-elected.”

“She will be,” Bringham said with the confidence of someone who knew this beyond a doubt.

“I know it’s not what the press has said, but she’s done a great deal to placate some of the more radical special interests groups while giving her full support to the projects that are most important to the Magistry.

The Mage Council won’t let her lose her seat any time soon. ”

Sciona didn’t ask how the Mage Council could ensure the results of a public election.

She knew the full answer was probably more complex than she had time to contemplate, and the gist of it was clear enough: the body that controlled the clergy spoke for God Himself, which went a long way when it came to informing the will of the people.

“Overall, there won’t be much change to the City Council this election cycle,” Bringham continued, “except Amfre losing his seat to Perramis.”

“Oh…”

“What is it?” Bringham asked, clearly noticing the shadow that came over Sciona’s face.

“That’s my…” Sciona shook her head, remembering the second reason she had so persistently ignored news of this particular election. “Never mind.”

She hadn’t spared a thought for her father in the last twenty-some years. Feryn damn her if she was going to start now. Pushing Perramis out of mind, where he belonged, she changed the subject.

“I was just thinking—why would the archmages worry about Nerys?” Sure, Nerys was a vocal advocate for women’s rights, but her power didn’t extend to the university. “She isn’t involved in decisions that affect the Magistry. Why would the Mage Council worry about her opinion?”

“They wouldn’t. But it’s the story Archmages Renthorn and Duris are going with, and they have the best relationship with the press, so…

” Bringham shrugged. “Apologies, my dear. If I’d spent more of my career schmoozing, I might be able to counter them in that arena, make this easier for you. But alas!”

“If you’d spent more of your career schmoozing, you probably wouldn’t have written as many of my favorite books, and I wouldn’t have applied for a position in your lab.” Sciona smiled. “I think it all worked out, sir.”

“Indeed.” Bringham clasped her shoulder. “I’ll see you at work then, Highmage Freynan.”

On the train home, Alba chattered excitedly, but all Sciona could hear was Archmage Bringham’s voice earnestly saying, “Highmage Freynan.” She clutched tight to the sound and echoed it to herself all the way home.

Highmage Freynan.

Highmage Freynan.

Highmage Freynan.

She saw the letters on the spine of a book and beside it, in gold, all the things she was going to be to this city:

… First Woman of the High Magistry

… Pioneer of the Freynan Method

… The Woman who Expanded the Barrier