114

Lute lay on the sofa—a distressed leather chesterfield Alden Thorn had been very easily talked into buying during their dorm decoration shopping spree—and stared up at the copper-painted antler light fixture.

If I were rewriting the story of my life, he thought, would I affix Shaper of Water right there in the hallway at school?

Haoyu was telling Alden animatedly about all the traditions surrounding the graduation pins. He was of the opinion that shock from the eighth grade student body had rendered Lute’s reveal day less joyful than it should have been. Lute hadn’t minded at the time. It had felt right to him, even if the congratulations from his peers had been more confused and subdued than they would have been for most people.

The day had been an ending and a beginning. He hadn’t been in the frame of mind to want more from it than that.

“Everything that happened next,” said Lute, “makes me sound so dumb. I don’t know how to say it without making you both think I’m pitiful.”

Maybe if he just stuck to the facts. Ruthlessly.

“I went to see Cyril right after school. The word had been spreading through my mother’s side of the family for a few hours, but nobody had called him. I’m sure they wouldn’t have anyway, but just in case, I had texted Jessica when I realized the news was out, telling her I wanted to talk to him myself. It was hard.”

Dad, it doesn’t have to change anything. Please. I don’t want it to.

…I need some time to think, Lute. Thank you for telling me. Thank you. Why don’t you stay with your mom tonight?

“He’s still taking some time to think,” said Lute, “about whether or not he wants to be my father. It’s been a year and a half. I suppose he’ll get around to deciding one of these days.”

The apartment had gone quiet. I hope I’m not traumatizing Haoyu. His parents seem so functional and loving. And…shit…Alden’s died horribly so I guess I should be careful not to whine about mine too much.

“I’d been getting interface calls from every Velra ever spawned since noon,” he continued. “If I was the System, I’d have teleported Hazel’s parents and Corin to the bottom of some oceanic trench. They must have been standing around chanting, ‘Call Lute! Text Lute! Call Lute!’

“I blocked them. They couldn’t believe I would do such a thing. Apparently we’ve got a Velra rule about not blocking each other because ‘What if there’s a family emergency!?’”

Roman had texted him right as school was letting out. If they give it to you, make her pay.

Grandma or Hazel?

Yes.

“The talk with Dad really messed me up. I was so mad.”

Not mad. He didn’t know why he’d lie about the emotion. Mad was what he was about it now. At the time, he’d been scared.

He’d stood in the elevator of Cyril’s building, going up and down whenever someone boarded the car, wondering if he’d just lost his dad forever and trying to figure out if it was the parentage or the fact that he’d gotten something Cyril had always wanted for himself. Or did I say something wrong when I was telling him? Maybe different words…

“When I finally left, it was ridiculous. Hugh, Cady, and Corin were parked outside in the Bentley. Roman’s dad was there glaring at them from his motorcycle. Miyo and a couple of the other cousins were standing on the sidewalk. The neighborhood watcher for that area was an Adjuster, and she was making herself obvious, standing out in front of the library with a look on her face that said she was ready to turn some Velras inside out if they started anything.

“As soon as I stepped outside, they stampeded me. They were all like, ‘What wonderful news! You might not know this, but I told the maid to change your diaper once when you were six months old and that makes us incredibly close. Now do exactly as I say.

“Jessica was ahead of them, though. She’d sent a driver to take me to the helicopter. Hugh tried to get in the car with me, and I told him to go about his business. Politely.”

******

******

“Grab my arm one more time and I’ll scream for help,” Lute said as he swatted at Hazel’s father with one hand and tried to close the car door on him with the other.

“Now listen to me, young man!”

“No! I won’t listen to you. You freaking lunatics drove all the way here from Apex to jump me! Don’t you put your hand in this car!”

“You’re being ridiculous, Lute. You’re going through a difficult time right now and you need guidance—”

“Help!” Lute bellowed, so loudly that the driver swore. “I’m trying to leave, and this man won’t let me! He’s not my guardian! I barely know him.”

Hugh’s feet shot out from under him. Cady, who’d been about to get into the backseat of the car from the other side, shrieked as her husband was lifted by the ankles into the air. He dangled there, flapping his arms and babbling excuses while the Adjuster charged with keeping the neighborhood family friendly stalked over. She was pushing up the sleeves of her gray uniform, and she looked deeply annoyed.

Lute went still in his seat. Corin was straightening his tie, like the watcher was going to take him more seriously if he did that. Roman’s dad was cackling next to the fire hydrant. Half of the cousins looked startled, and the other half looked delighted.

“Are you all having some kind of trouble?” she asked in Mandarin. She directed the question to Lute, probably because she knew he lived here sometimes. He had seen her in the area occasionally.

“My mother called this car for me. Only for me. These people are trying to get in it with me when they’re not supposed to,” Lute said in the same language.

“We’re his family!” Corin said quickly in English. “It’s not like we’re strangers.”

“That’s right!” Hugh was still dangling in the air. “We’re just trying to help him. He’s—”

“A moment away from being an Avowed,” said the Adjuster, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s flashing a name tag andthere’s a non-Avowed notice, which means he’s recently been selected. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks,” said Lute.

“Why do you all seem to think someone who’s about to make some of the biggest decisions of his life needs your help for a little car trip?” she said, leaning down to look at Hugh with a menacing expression. “Hmmm?”

She made a humming sound and gestured, and Hugh was flipped onto his feet again. The damage was done. People were watching curiously through apartment windows.

Cady pulled up the collar of her coat like that might hide her from view.

“Buckle your seatbelt,” the watcher said to Lute. “Have a nice afternoon.”

I could be an Adjuster, thought Lute as the car drove away. I wonder what types of spells she has? It could be binding spells, and that one just happens to lift the target off the ground. It didn’t look like she messed with gravity.

There were so many different methods that wonderful lady could be using to punish his family. She was probably just giving them a talking to, but Lute liked imagining them all hanging upside down.

The happy thought was short-lived.

Dad…

If I just give him time, it’ll be all right. Won’t it? Obviously he didn’t suspect at all. And he’s upset. It’s a lot.

Lute hoped it wasn’t too much.

What if Mom’s just as upset?

She had texted him several times, but it was all very business mode. Yes, you can go see your father. I’m getting the helicopter arranged. There will be a car for you. Don’t make any sudden decisions. Come straight to me. Are you all right at school?

What if neither one of them want a son who’s different from them in this way? How would I feel if one of them suddenly became Avowed?

He rested his head against the window. The answer came to him immediately—Like they’d left me behind. Like they’d gone to join the rest of Anesidora.

Lonely.

Was his mother feeling like that right now? Would she look at him differently when he walked through the door?

If neither one of them want me like this, I think it might kill me.

Car to helicopter. Helicopter to Narcissus House. A bit absurd just to shave minutes off the travel time, but at least Chainers couldn’t fly. If they could, they’d be up here trying to drag him out of the helicopter.

Hazel’s family really did want me to affix before Grandma got back from the Triplanets. They’re worried about her position more than they’ve been letting on.

And Roman’s dad had been there to tell him not to affix until Aulia got back.

None of them had even asked him what class he actually wanted. Corin had just started shouting the names of things he could get his hands on very quickly.

Lute watched the city and the sea pass by below him.

He kept checking his cell phone and his interface for messages, hoping to see one from Cyril that said not to worry. Or a single emoji would be enough. Not even a heart, just a thumbs up. A wink.

The helicopter landed, and Lute headed toward the back of the house with his coat over his arm and a feeling close to terror making his stomach roil.

Mom will be okay with it. She will. She’ll have advice, and she’ll help me figure all of this out. She’s probably working in Grandma’s office right now. I’ll go see her, and tell her every—

The sliding door that led from the sunroom to the outdoor kitchen opened, and Jessica Velra stood there. She was wearing the dark green sweater Lute had bought her for Mother’s Day and a pair of jeans. She had on the ugly slide sandals she loved but only wore when they were unlikely to have guests. Her white blonde hair hung down in a side braid.

She’d been crying. She was still crying. The mascara she used to darken her lashes sometimes had run. Her cheeks were wet.

Lute stood still, more afraid than ever before in his life.

Mom, no. Please don’t. It’s all right.

He meant to say the words out loud, but he didn’t.

Then she was running toward him, her arms outstretched, and Lute couldn’t even drop the coat before she was embracing him.

“Mom, what—?”

He stumbled. Before he knew it, his butt was on the grass, and Jessica was on the ground right beside him, still hugging the life out of him.

“Look at you,” she sobbed in his ear. “Look at you, baby. You’re an Avowed! I’m so happy.”

“You are?” Lute asked. “Really?”

“You’re beautiful,” she said, leaning back and cupping his cheek with a hand. “You’ve always been so beautiful. Things have been hard for you. It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I was afraid they’d be hard forever, but they won’t now. Lute, you’re going to be all right.”

What? “Mom, I’ve been fine.”

“I was selfish for wanting you so much.” She stole his pocket square and wiped at her face with it. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“From falling in the grass?”

She chuckled. “I know. I’m being silly. I’ve seen Selection happen to how many other people? But now it’s you and the first thing I thought was, ‘I hope the Contract is careful with him! I hope it didn’t scare him!’”

“It scared the shi—stuffing out of me.”

“It did?”

“I didn’t even believe it was happening until an hour later.”

She stood and pulled him onto his feet.

“…Mom, you’re really happy?”

The terror was fading. Relief was replacing it.

She smiled and reached for his hand. “Lute Velra, this is the happiest I’ve been since the day you were born. I’m proud of you.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

Despite how some people seemed to feel, being an Avowed wasn’t something you earned. Still, he couldn’t help returning her smile.

“Come on!” she said. “Come with me. We need to talk before your grandmother gets home!”

******

Jessica’s joy at Lute’s selection was infectious. He hadn’t once had a similar emotion about it himself, and after a week of feeling every way but pleased, he gave himself permission to relax a little.

“Okay, okay!” he said, brushing the crumbs from a brownie off his shirt and leaning toward her just as eagerly as she was leaning toward him. They were sitting in a pair of pink velvet armchairs inside the expansive walk-in dressing room that connected her bedroom to Aulia’s, and they’d set the panic protocols just so that they wouldn’t be able to hear relatives knocking.

Lute was enjoying imagining some of the particularly toxic ones out there, throwing themselves stupidly at the walls of what was effectively a bomb shelter again and again. Like zombies.

“So the first person other than Kon sees my pin, and they say something to their friend, and then it goes all through the hall. And it gets quiet except for a couple of older students who are like, ‘Hey! Awesome! An eighth grader’s wearing a pin!’ And they’re all trying to figure out if I really got selected or it’s some kind of stunt, and then Mrs. Sharma comes down the hall juggling all her bags and a pile of supplies. She just stops and stares at me for ages, and she doesn’t notice her mug is tilted in her hand and she’s dripping that Artonan flower tea she likes all over the floor.

“Finally she realizes her foot is getting wet, and she snaps out of it and she just drops everything she’s carrying on Declan without even asking—like he’s a catch-all table!—and she hurries over to make sure that I’m not doing anything stupid. She seemed to think I might have gotten overwhelmed and started affixing right there by the lockers.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t a great student when it came to the Avowed stuff, but I’m not that ignorant.”

He’d been a quarter of a second away from becoming a Wright out of curiosity, but did that need mentioning?

“So then they all knew it was real! And this gossip wave hit the school, and…it was weird but fun. People kept staring at me like I had become a completely different person overnight.”

His mother was beaming. Her hands were clasped over her heart.

“I wanted this for you,” said said in an emotional voice. “All your life, I wanted you not to have to go through what I did. I wanted you to have everything, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“You weren’t sure…of what?” Lute asked cautiously. He didn’t know if wanted the answer.

But she still loved him. They were still a team, hiding out here in this giant closet from all the other Velras. Nothing else could matter as much as that.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be Avowed or not.” Jessica reached for his knee and squeezed it. “Growing up assuming I was—all that endless training and preparing, and then…it was gone. I hated myself. I hated myself for years. I couldn’t let it happen to you. If you didn’t know, you couldn’t be hurt like that. If you didn’t know, and something wonderful happened, it could only be a blessing for you.”

Lute’s chest felt tight. So it was a lie then. She thought maybe I could be…but she told me never. My whole life was built on that lie.

Her face was a mess from the crying.

She thought she would be Avowed. Aulia designed her to be one. Trained her. Told her she would be strong.

And then she wasn’t.

Then she was the assistant.

Lute knew these things about his mother. But in his eyes, she was somehow above them. It had never occurred to him until this second that she might be thinking about his life and future this way.

I thought we were the same. Me, her, and Dad. But that’s not right. They grew up…like everyone else I know. Like Avowed.

Not like me.

“You understand, don’t you?” Jessica said in a rush. “You’re old enough to know. I couldn’t raise you like the rest of them. I couldn’t let you live that way, training for a future that might not happen. I wanted you to have everything I didn’t. School, hobbies, a childhood, no fear at all about disappointing me…you could never disappoint me…and then, maybe, it would come to you like this. As a gift. And I never imagined…S. Baby, you’re going to be an S-rank! For the rest of your life, nobody can take that from you.”

“Oh,” said Lute, still feeling like someone had stolen the last few crumbs of solid ground out from beneath him. “Mom, I know you love me, but this is—”

A lie. Wrong. I don’t know what the right thing would have been since you only thought I might be an Avowed, but you got it wrong. The whole world hurt me every day because of your lie.

But she was so relieved. She’d been crying all afternoon…because she wasn’t afraid for him anymore. He couldn’t say something that harsh.

“I really wanted to be the best harpist in the world,” he said softly. “I was proud of that. I wanted that.”

You made me want that.

“You can be that, can’t you?” Jessica said, beaming at him. “You can be that and so much more now.”

Lute’s phone, on the little table beside the plate of brownies, buzzed and he snatched it.

Dad?

It wasn’t. Of course. Somehow Miyo had gotten hold of his phone number, and she wanted to know what he was about to do.

“They’re so wrapped up in themselves they can’t even imagine I might not care about Chainer,” Lute said. “They assume everyone is just as obsessed with the class as they are.”

Jessica took a deep breath. “Don’t get your hopes up, but Grandma might consider giving it to you. She wants to put the most powerful family member possible in front of the Artonans, and Hazel—”

Lute snorted. “It doesn’t matter if she’s considering me or not.” He was still staring at his text messages, willing a new one to appear. “I made a list. Chainer’s not that high on it. I know there are some positive things about it, but the fact that it’s held mostly by people I hate shoves it way down in the rankings.”

“Lute, you don’t hate your grandmother.”

He considered that. “I think it’s really close to hate,” he said. “What’s hate, but with less passion? Hate but in a way that’s less, ‘I want you to die,’ and more, ‘I want to never see or think about you again’? Because that’s the feeling.”

A fair feeling, he thought, considering how she treated them.

Jessica blinked.

“I traded into Shaper of Water,” Lute said. “Mom, I wanted to talk to you about Rabbit and Adjuster and see if we could to swap to one of those without Corin’s help? Or with it. He seems extremely eager to help. I’m not sure I want to. I’m not ready to make the decision. I think I need a professional class and career counselor. A lot of my classmates have them.”

“Shaper?” Jessica said. “S-rank Shaper? I know you used to admire them, but…”

“I know, I know,” Lute said quickly. “It’s probably not the perfect thing. I just need time to figure it out. If you get good with it at S, you don’t really know what you’ll be summoned for or how often. And I assume I’ll want to be talented with whatever class I have? But there’s something about it. Even holding it feels better than Wright did.”

“Don’t affix until we’ve figured this out together!” Jessica said quickly. “I think you might change your mind. Even if you take Chainer it’s not like you have to stay around the family members you don’t like. Your grandmother would expect you to drop out of school and study under her, but—”

“No.”

“But you wouldn’t have to,” she continued. “You can still go to school wherever you want. You can play your harp. Don’t make any hasty decisions.”

“I’m not going to.” Lute reached for another brownie. “But there’s nothing Grandma can say that will convince me to take Chainer.”

His mom blinked again. Her smile turned a little strained. “I know I never encouraged you to like wordchains. In fact, I discouraged you from it because I didn’t want anyone to take too much of an interest if you seemed good at them. But they are useful. And the safety…Lute, it’s a class that will never have to worry about…about being sacrificed in some awful foreign battle or—”

“But there’s Rabbit, Mom.”

“Chainer can make you as much money as Rabbit, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No,” said Lute. He paused. “I hope she does want to give it to me. So I can tell her I don’t even care about her special, mysterious class. I guess maybe she could convince me to take it if she gave me Libra…no not even then. Maybe if she gave me the Healer.”

He was being a touch dramatic. He’d heard someone say once that Libra, with all of its magical modifications and comforts, was worth more than everything else Aulia owned combined.

“The Healer?” Jessica said. “What do you—?”

“The rejuvenation person.” Lute couldn’t stop the anger from slipping into his voice. “The one she’s got the deal with. Him. I’ll take him, and she can give me any class at all.”

“Lute, it’s important to think seriously about this kind of thing. I know the family hasn’t been friendly to you. In general. But you can’t throw the rest of your future away just to spite them.”

Lute swallowed his last bite. “I am being serious. Mom, I know we don’t talk about it, but you’re not even on the rejuve list. You’re not important enough for that? You’re not important enough, but Keiko is? I’ve met her twice! She doesn’t even like the family. And Cady? Cady gets to stay young, and she and Hugh are the ones who…who…”

Who talk about you like that in front of Hazel. Who tell her that you pick up garbage for the other members of the family.

“They were trying to climb in the car with me when I left Dad’s!” he said instead. “I had to yell for the watcher on duty to get them to leave me alone, like a kid in a public safety video!”

Jessica’s expression had gone blank.

Lute gripped the velvet arms of the chair. “We deserve better. You deserve better. I don’t know if I’m going to like being Avowed. I can’t imagine it. It’s like someone else’s life has landed on me and squashed my plans into dust. But even if I hate having the System in my head, even if I can’t ever leave this tiny little trap of a country, the one good thing is that there are more Healers here. And as an S-rank I can eventually get money with our without Aulia’s help. By the time I’m out of school, I can get some kind of job. And I’m going to make sure I don’t have to come to dinner here in the mansion a hundred years from now and look at Grandma’s face and wonder why she gets to be here when you and Dad aren’t.”

He’d used up all the oxygen in his lungs on that little speech. He drew in a breath.

“I didn’t know you were worried about that kind of thing,” Jessica said in a strange voice. “Not at your age.”

“You’re my mom,” Lute said. “And Dad’s my…he’s Dad.”

She folded her hands over her lap.

“All right,” she said after a minute. She cleared her throat and switched to her all-business. “We’ll talk this all through before you have to make a decision. When both of us are just a little calmer. When your grandmother gets back home with Hazel.”

Lute slumped in his seat and sighed. “It’s been a long day.”

“It sounds like it. Did Hugh really—?”

“He did. Like a crazy man.” Lute shook his head. “And Cady was coming with him! What were they going to do? Beat me up in the back of the car and force me to affix right then and there?”

Jessica frowned. She tapped a polished nail against the side table. “I think we’ll have a party tonight.”

“What?” Lute said.

“The whole family. Even the more distant relations. Maybe some friends as well. Lydia.”

Lydia? It took Lute a second to place the name, and when he did, he was surprised. “Orpheus’s mother?”

Hugh’s ex-wife. The S-rank Strength Brute he had divorced for Cady.

“Yes, I don’t think Hazel’s parents will have any time to bother you tonight with her around.”

“Do I have to go to this party?” Lute asked.

“You do,” his mother said. “The point is to surround ourselves with people in order to prevent incidents. Until your grandmother gets back from the TC and reminds everyone of their duties to the family. It should be late tonight. Besides, who else would the party be for on this particular night?”

“Me?”

“Well, yes,” said Jessica. There was a glint in her eye that Lute had never seen before. “I seem to remember making you attend two Coming of Age parties for one of your cousins. Wouldn’t you like to have one of your own?”

******

******

“Did you have horses at your party?” Alden interrupted, grinning.

“Horses?” Haoyu asked.

They were both sitting on the rug now. Alden was petting it. Lute didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

“Do you seriously think I had horses running in circles around the mansion just to remind Hazel of her bizarre taste in party entertainment?”

“Did you?”

“No! It was very last minute. And honestly it wasn’t fun. I was tired and stressed, and people I didn’t like were flooding me with handshakes, advice, and demands. They were all so fake…” He shook his head. “Jessica asked me what kind of party I wanted, and I had no idea. I was like, ‘A fourteen and a half birthday cake? Music. Some candles maybe. Dad to come.”

He grunted. “Not that I actually said that last part out loud. Mom’s good at putting on events, though. Sometimes Aulia’s just in the mood for one, so she throws something together. She had an Adjuster come and blast the lawn with spells so it felt like summer, and there were food trucks parked all over the place. Street musicians took turns playing from one of the balconies. Nobody beat me up or Swayed me into affixing, so I guess it worked.”

“We should throw you another one,” said Haoyu, watching with interest as Alden stroked the fluffy rug. “So you can actually enjoy it. Coming of Age parties are supposed to be fun for the person having them.”

“I’m going to be sixteen in January.”

“So?”

“I’m too old. I don’t want one.”

“I want a birthday party,” Alden said. “I’ve just decided. I’m having one. My last one was memorable, but I would like to make the next one more run-of-the-mill.”

“What did you do for your last one?” Haoyu gave the rug an experimental pet of his own.

“I picked all the vegetables I was sure weren’t poisonous from the greenhouse at the lab, and I made something that looked like seven-layer dip out of them. Then I put on a Hawaiian shirt and ate it on the roof with Kibby. I taught her about candles and she enhanced the tradition. Everyone gets to take turns blowing them out.”

Lute exchanged a look with Haoyu.

“That sounds…peaceful?” Lute suggested.

“I thought I did a pretty good job. I sang. We looked out at the corrupted grasslands of Thegund and talked about whether or not the lab lights would last through the long night. I did some parkour.”

“You guys both need normal birthdays bad,” Haoyu murmured.

“I didn’t sing at mine,” said Lute. “But I did play a song.”

******

******

Lute Velra had a little voice in his head that told him to be careful about revenge.

He didn’t feel great about how it had gone last time. A couple of people had cried.

He stared really hard at an accordion player and ate onion rings out of a paper cone. He was hoping the mix of his apparently intense focus on the musician, his smelly breath, and the fact that he’d hidden his name tag and put on a ball cap would protect him from his relatives for at least a few minutes.

This party was full of some of the most blistering family interactions and vitriolic backbiting he’d ever seen or heard. None of it directed at him, of course. Goodness no!

Everyone was his friend tonight.

The Roman supporters were spoiling for a re-match, and they would take up Lute’s banner whether he had agreed to have a banner or not! And the Hazel supporters were losing ground, but they still kept finding time to swing by and let him know that Chainer was just the worst. Really. He’d had no preparation. If Aulia decided to offer it to him—not that she would ever do such a thing!—he was going to struggle and find it so terribly dull and didn’t he want to take another class?

Any other one? They would go kidnap some innocent fifteen-year-old for him and deliver them tied up like a present if he wanted.

Grandma and Hazel are going to come home to this.

I don’t think she has tears inside her. She probably weeps acid. But still…I think I should have said no to this lunacy. We could have hidden out with someone trustworthy. Mom was just mad about them trying to strongarm me.

Then his phone rang. He started to reach for his pocket, then he stopped.

“System, can you send that to my interface?”

He had to start learning the features.

A familiar face appeared, floating in a circular window at the top center of his field of vision.

Hazel’s brown hair was braided into a crown. She was wearing a black dress with a white collar and cuffs. She was standing in a toilet stall at the TC.

Lute recognized the tile work on the wall behind her because he’d recently blown his nose in front of it for a while.

“Lute, hello,” she said. She sounded very professional, like this call was a meeting they’d scheduled ages ago. “Congratulations! My phone is full of news about what’s happened. This is wonderful. Grandma and I are so excited for you.”

“Thank you,” Lute said in an equally professional voice. He’d had a couple of hours worth of practice thanking people when he didn’t mean it tonight. He was all warmed up.

“I hear you’ve got Shaper of Water. That’s a wonderful class. You’ve always liked…swimming.”

Little fumble there.

“Thank you,” Lute said again.

“I was thinking…this is so crazy,” said Hazel. She licked her lips. “At work today, there was a woman who reminded me of Aunt Jessica—”

“Are you really going there?”

“No!” Hazel said quickly. “Listen, this is important. There was a woman who reminded me of Aunt Jessica…because of her personality. She was having a hard day today actually, and I helped her come to terms with it. I do that sometimes when I’m visiting our friends there. I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. But I wanted you to know, she reminded me of your mother and you, and I thought…it’s terrible that I never apologized to you. I shouldn’t have said those things to you—”

“Which time?” Lute interrupted.

“What?”

“Which things are you apologizing for saying?”

Say them aloud to me right now. Any of them. Any one of the thousand things. I dare you.

“…you know, you were right when you yelled at me at my little Ascot party. I was so immature. I should have apologized, but instead I said what I did. I don’t think of you and Aunt Jessica that way. I never have. I was just upset and confused.”

A toilet flushed in one of the neighboring stalls.

“Thank you, Hazel,” said Lute. “For apologizing like this. See you when you get home.”

The helicopter should be there at the TC waiting on them now.

What’ll it be? Half an hour maybe if they’re slow. That’s enough time.

He hung up. He found his mother laughing behind a food truck with Orpheus’s mother, Lydia. Hugh’s ex-wife was a brunette with a very noticeable hourglass figure. Lute knew at once that he’d never seen her around the house before because he would have remembered her. She was striking. Magnetic in a way that made him think high Appeal, though that wasn’t necessarily the case.

If he remembered correctly, Lydia was a Strength Brute. One who’d gone through one of the Apex leveling programs…so she’d wanted to be a superhero or something like it at one point.

Cady was also extremely curvy and brunette. Lute wondered if Hugh had a type.

“Mom, I’m going to be in the formal living room for a while. I’ll take Aimi with me.” She was around here somewhere, taste-testing the food.“Grandma and Hazel are back.”

“I know. Your grandmother texted.” She checked one of her smart watches. “Is currently texting, in fact.”

“I’ll be in there when they get back to the house.”

“You aren’t enjoying the party?”

“There’s a song I want to play. I need to warm up.”

******

Lute left Aimi to enjoy a tray full of fried food and skewered meat while she guarded the door to the living room.

He practiced the song until he was sure of every note, and then he kept playing, trying to breathe some life into it. It had been a while.

He didn’t have long to wait.

When Aulia swept in with a delighted smile on her face and Hazel scuttled in after her with a strained one on hers, the room was dark. The only light came from the windows and from the lamp over the sheet music.

“Hello, Hazel,” said Lute from his seat at the piano. He didn’t look away from the music. “Do you remember the name of this song?”

The name tag floating over his shoulder said, “Lute - The Least of the Velras.”

He doubted his grandmother even remembered saying it, but the idea would still come across.

“This is Gymnopédie 1,” said Lute, his fingers delicate on the keys. “It’s my mother’s favorite song. It’s almost painfully beautiful. And every time I play it…I have to think of tissues in trash cans. Thank you for that.”

He finally looked up at her. His fingers kept moving.

“Don’t worry about the Ascot party. It was so long ago. You were only fourteen.” He paused. “Oh. Wait. That’s the same age I am now.”

******

Small, wet feet slapping on the decking as Lute chased after a beachball. A bare adult foot stopping it for him. An anklet covered in sparkling charms that made him pause for a curious examination.

And a fragment of the anklet-wearer’s conversation with another family member, overheard but filed away in the back of his mind. A grown-up artifact on a day filled with more interesting things for a young child to think about.

“Everyone thinks Aulia’s attempts to find signs and omens within magical occurrences is a weakness, the one crack in an otherwise indomitable nature. They’re wrong.”

A gasp. “Aunt Hikari! You don’t really believe in it, too, do—”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Hikari. “That’s what nobody seems to understand. It doesn’t matter if such signs exist. It doesn’t matter if Aulia reads them correctly. She thinks they do and that it is possible to interpret them, and that frees her from one of the bonds that hold most of us back.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Fear. And the inertia it breeds.” She nudged the ball toward Lute. “Once Aulia is sure magic is pointing her down a path, she takes it. Her own certainty in the supernatural provenance of her course reduces the obstacles in her way. So she tends to arrive at her destination when by all rights she shouldn’t.”

Stubby fingers wrapped themselves around damp vinyl. Lute stood and turned back toward his pool.

“There aren’t many people strong enough to halt the momentum of someone who believes she has deciphered the voice of her god.”

******

Aulia Velra stood smiling beside the piano bench, her hair shining a deep honey color in the lamplight as Lute finished the song.

“Lute, my dove,” she said. “Aren’t you spectacular tonight! I didn’t realize you’d kept up with the piano at all. I thought you and Angela were more of an exclusive couple.”

Startled, he looked at her.

She knows the name of my harp? He was sure he’d said it in front of her a few times. But he would have bet the price of Angela that she wouldn’t have bothered to remember.

The name tag that said “Least of the Velras” was floating beside his head for a reason.

“I haven’t really kept up with it,” he said. “It’s just not that hard to go back to a song you used to spend so much time on.”

“Mmm,” Aulia said. “Congratulations. I am truly overjoyed to learn that all my heartache over your future was wasted.”

“I don’t believe for one second that your heart ached for me.”

She touched his cheek. This close, she smelled faintly of jasmine.

“I know you don’t,” she said. “That’s my fault, isn’t it? I’ve been gifted with more talented young grandchildren than I can keep up with. That doesn’t mean I don’t love every last one of you. But sometimes I turn around and realize you’ve gotten so big in the last few blinks, and I wasn’t paying attention.”

She sounds sincere. How unsettling.

“Grandma,” said Hazel, “you’re not going to—”

Aulia’s eyes didn’t leave Lute’s face.

“Hazel, sweetheart. I know the difficulties you’ve been facing. And you should know, your position in my heart and in this family could never be in jeopardy. You may be the most uniquely gifted person on all of Anesidora. You will be a Chainer.”

Hazel straightened. There was just a hint of smugness tinging the relief on her face.

“Let’s go for a little trip,” said Aulia. “Just the three of us. I’ll drive.”

In the ensuing moment of silence, the noise from the party filtered into the room.

“You can drive?” Hazel and Lute both said at exactly the same time.

They frowned at each other.

“Good grief, you two,” said Aulia, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m the reason Anesidorans drive on the righthand side. Just because I haven’t done it in a while doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how.”

“But…how long has it been?” Lute asked. He had never seen his grandmother operate a vehicle.

“I got my license renewed fifteen or so years ago. So it was just the other day! We’ll take the Bentley.”

She drove them to the apartment. It was a quiet trip except for one of the local news streams playing through the car’s speakers. They were talking about upgrades that had recently When Aulia pulled up to the building and passed the keys off to a valet, she raised an eyebrow at the two of them.

“Good job,” said Lute. “We are alive.”

“Grandma, can you teach me how to drive?” Hazel asked.

“Corin can teach you,” said Lute. “I know, because he drove your parents over to my dad’s place today so that they could all accost me.”

She glared at him. “Your da—”

“I’m not interested in hearing the two of you bicker,” Aulia said, making the tossing gesture at the building’s doorman that she used to automatically send argold tips through the System. “You’re family. Act like it.”

Should I start speaking a language Hazel can’t understand? That would be very familial, as far as this family goes.

When they reached the penthouse, it was empty. Aulia’s residences were rarely empty. There was always some family member enjoying the luxuries. Maybe everyone was just back at the party, but Lute thought it was more likely she’d called ahead and cleared the place out.

She led the way into the apartment, kicking off her shoes and dropping the Artonan-style widesleeved coat she’d been wearing on the foot of a chaise lounge. The lights, operated by a command from her interface, came on then dimmed. And the giant windows framing two sides of the apartment’s main living area turned opaque, blocking the view of the skyline.

“Sit wherever you like,” Aulia said, tying her hair back with a ponytail holder she’d pulled from her pants pocket. Blue tattoos peeked out of the sleeveless cream-colored top she was wearing—the back of the shoulder, her chest, her waist.

Having seen her in a swimsuit, Lute knew the geometric patterns interlocked, making a network over the left side of her torso. The newer ones were smaller than the older ones, but just as intricate.

One for every Velra who wore one of their own.

“Let’s have a little tutoring session,” said Aulia. “A special one. We’re going to learn a wordchain together. The name’s nice. <>.”

Hazel perched herself on the center of the sofa.

<> she said in Artonan. <>

“An old one,” said Aulia. “So old it’s decrepit, you might say.”

Hazel drew in a breath. “But if it’s like that…it won’t…and won’t we get in troub—?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Aulia replied. “And why would we get in trouble? If one of you forges half of the chain, I will make sure the other half is forged to meet you. It’s simple. Let’s see if we can’t wake it up.”

“I haven’t agreed to this,” Lute said. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about, and I don’t really do wordchains.”

“Ha!” said Hazel in a vindicated tone, as if he’d just confessed to eating boogers instead of not fooling around with the family hobby.

“And what does this one even do? Maybe I don’t want to see a thousand instants.”

“It’s nothing that grand,” said Aulia. “If you get it right, it will give you long distance vision for a moment. There are other chains with similar effects. This one was just designed in a way that makes it unusual…and undesirable to certain people in decision-making positions. So you won’t find it in any book. Hazel won’t find it in any of her books either.

“Actually, it’s not in any of my books. It’s that far removed from the world we work in.”

Hazel gasped.

Lute looked between the two of them. They’re so melodramatic. I think they enjoy it.

“It’s a special acquisition of mine,” Aulia said. “And the words and signs aren’t very difficult, Lute, so Hazel’s advantage will be slightly reduced. It’s uniquely suited for a little friendly competition.”

“What’s the other half do?”

“You won’t have to pay it.” Her smile widened. “I took care of Hazel’s debts for the chains she cast on her Coming of Age. It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t do the same for you.”

Coming of Ages, thought Lute. Plural.

He went to the bathroom and texted his mother. [Grandma wants me to learn some ancient vision wordchain. It’s a competition thing with Hazel.]

[Good luck! You’ve got this!] Jessica texted back.

Not what I was getting at. He texted Aimi. [Grandma wants me to learn some ancient wordchain. It’s a competition thing with Hazel. This isn’t some kind of trap is it?]

After a few seconds, Aimi replied, [Run! Run for your life! :) Just kidding. She does this kind of thing all the time. Cousin versus cousin battles make us all feel even more loving toward each other as we grow up.]

Lute sighed.

[Spending hours watching you fumble around in Artonan is a really inconvenient murder method, don’t you think?] Aimi added.

[I didn’t think she was going to kill me. But why does she have to act so spooky about it!?]

[Vibes.]

Well, it’s fine. Not like I even have to try the chain seriously if I don’t want to.

He was sure this whole plot was designed to boost Hazel’s confidence and reassure her.

Yeah, that’s it. Here, Hazel. I know you’re feeling bad about being sixteen, and half the family is mad about Roman. Crush Lute at your favorite game so everyone still knows you’re above him.

The wordchain Aulia taught them was, as she’d said, simple. Simple-ish anyway. Twenty words. Some gestures. They weren’t allowed to practice everything all at once. Instead they had to do it in out-of-order sections.

“When you decide you’re ready to try a full cast, let me know,” she said brightly after she was done teaching. “Only one attempt each!”

“Only one?” Hazel asked.

She seemed displeased with this wordchain. She kept looking at Aulia and saying, “That’s it?” with regard to the gestures and words. Like she wanted it to be harder.

The translations for the words that had appeared on Lute’s interface indicated that the wordchain would do what Aulia said. It was about seeing really far anyway. He’d written the words phonetically in English with notes on pronunciation quirks out to the side. Aulia’s chaining had a pleasant chanting rhythm to it as well, and that was helping.

Artonan—bad.

Songs—good.

Hand gestures—it wasn’t like playing the harp, but he was pretty decent at getting his fingers to do what he told them to when he told them to.

Hazel, apparently worried about giving him any advantages, was refusing to practice out loud. She was just moving her lips silently and staring off into space.

Lute discarded the page on which he’d written the definitions of the words, because trying to remember what it all meant was unnecessary, wasn’t it? Just make the sounds right and convey the idea.

Hey! Give me some long distance vision for a second. You’ll be paid back.

No reason to be all formal about it.

But be sincere, he decided.

Did wordchains care about sincerity? He doubted it. Hazel could do them after all. But they sounded like they were supposed to be sincere, so he’d claw an advantage where he could.

Hazel was definitely going to beat him at this strange little game Aulia had decided to invite the least of the Velras to participate in now that he was looking less least.

This is quieter than the party was anyway.

When he thought he had it memorized, he waited. No way was he going first. He wanted to make sure he saw Hazel try it.

She was glancing at him, too, as if she was thinking the same thing.

I can outlast you, thought Lute. Because I don’t want to prove myself as much as you do.

He grinned at her.

“On the off chance that you both succeed, the first person to do it successfully wins,” Aulia said from where she was typing on a laptop nearby.

Hazel leaped up. “I’ll go first!”

“What are we winning anyway?” Lute asked, not moving an inch.

“You can pick the menu for the next month,” said Aulia. “Anything you want. How does that sound?”

“With Kabir?”

“Unless we’ve gotten another chef.”

That wasn’t a bad reward. Hazel hated spicy food. Lute hadn’t gotten to eat Kabir’s version of Jamaican jerk chicken in forever.

He still let Hazel have her attempt first. Aulia took her over to the windows and removed the opacity from them. She had Hazel look out over the skyline.

“Begin,” she said.

To Lute’s surprise, his grandmother started casting what appeared to be the opposite half of the wordchain just seconds after Hazel started hers.

So much for listening to Hazel for pronunciation tips.

It sounded like a mess with both of them chanting it.

Hazel finished. Aulia was watching her closely. She suddenly stopped casting mid-word and let her hands drop.

“You did very well, dear. Your casting was flawless,” said Aulia.

Hazel’s hands were clenched at her sides.

“You always take such offense when this happens. Relax. Everything will come to you in its own time.”

She looked back at Lute. “Are you ready?”

“Sure,” he said, pushing himself up off the couch. “Why not?”

He stepped over to join her by the window. “What am I supposed to look at?”

“Whatever you like. Something in the distance is best. It will only last a moment, so why waste it?”

“If it works, you mean,” Hazel muttered.

Lute fixed his eyes on the farthest point he could see from this height. Past streets and rooftops and spires, past Nautilus Needle, to a small light in the distance on the water.

He performed the wordchain, tuning out Aulia’s simultaneous performance with ears used to ignoring some of the more offensive members of the youth orchestra.

The words were just sounds to him. The hand motions were a dance that went in time to the song he was making. He tried to sincerely want to borrow something so that he could see the pinprick of light out there.

He didn’t feel anything special happening. There was no headache or psychic event. Just him doing the thing as well as a tedious night of practice would allow for. He pronounced the last syllable.

And then…

The thing he’d assumed was a boat wasn’t. He could see it clearly, as if darkness and distance didn’t exist. It was the moon. Not the real moon, but a big gleaming moon nonetheless, brought to life by someone’s illusion magic and hanging over the water like a giant lantern. A man and woman bundled up in coats and earmuffs suddenly appeared from what should have been the dark side of their giant moon. They were arm-in-arm, flying around it slowly.

“That’s got to be the most Apex date that’s ever happened in the history of dating!” Lute exclaimed. “Which one of them is doing the flying and which has the illusion spell?”

He blinked, and he couldn’t see it anymore.

He stared out at the city and the tiny light over the water that was no longer a mystery. “Wordchains can do that?” he asked in surprise. “That was really Longsight level—”

There was a thump behind him that caught his attention, and he turned to see Hazel hopping on one bare foot. She was clutching the other and grimacing.

Did she just kick the sofa?

He said, “Kicking things is its own punishm—”

“Shut up!” Hazel spat. “Just shut up!”

“I see now.” There was something in Aulia’s voice that made Lute forget his cousin. One of her hands was pressed to the window. She closed her eyes. “Or rather I don’t.”

Her expression was soft. She turned to face Lute unerringly, even with her eyes shut.

“So this is what I’ve been blind to.”

******

It was four days later when his mother woke him in the night.

He struggled his way out from under the sheets, adrenaline flooding him at the urgency in his mother’s voice, and the tablet he’d fallen asleep with came to life, showing the last website he’d been viewing.

Class and career counseling services. He’d found one that seemed cool. He was going to ask his mom to set up an appointment. He wanted to talk about Shaper and Rabbit. And Adjusters with illusion abilities—the moon date was just a little too striking to get out of his head, so he wanted to find out more about the path that would get him that kind of spell.

“What is it?” he asked, staring into Jessica’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to get dressed,” she whispered. “Don’t be too loud. This is your chance.”

“Huh?” he whispered back.

She was holding out clothes for him. Jeans and a t-shirt with Beethoven’s face on it. “Hurry,” she said. “Your grandmother’s waiting. We don’t want her to change her mind.”

“Is she still…you know. Can she see again?”

Lute did not like that weirdass wordchain she’d taught them at all. It wasn’t anything like the ones he’d ever heard of, even living in a house full of Chainers. The bad portion seemed way out of line with the good one, and wordchains were supposed to be equal weren’t they? Was that one glimpse of a superhuman date night worth days of blindness?

What it did seemed off in the first place, and Hazel was all like, I bet you feel smug, but don’t think something like that is going to get you any respect from people who matter!

No wonder it was some kind of forgotten antique.

“She’s fine,” Jessica said. She went to stand by Angela Aubergine. “Dress. Quickly. Don’t make too much noise. If the others wake up they’ll interfere.”

“Interfere with what?” Lute pulled the shirt over his head and started yanking on the jeans. A pair of sneakers and socks were already on the bed.

“Chainer,” Jessica whispered. She was staring at the harp. “You’re getting it.”

Lute paused with a sock in his hand.

“I don’t want it. I told Grandma I didn’t. I told her before she could even ask me outright if I would be interested.”

Actually, he had said something more panicky about crazy old Avowed doing creepy wordchains they’d probably gotten from the kinds of wizards who had bodies decomposing under their beds.

But he was sure the “no thank you, I’ll have none of that” had come through loud and clear.

Jessica let out a single puff of laughter. “Yes. You surprised her. In a positive way, maybe. You do..it’s a good thing if you can stand up for yourself a little bit in this family. We have some strong personalities.”

Lute wasn’t putting on his socks.

“I said no. She can’t make me take a class I don’t want. I’ll just…I’ll affix Shaper even if I’m not ready.”

He wasn’t sure he was brave enough to do it. He really wanted time.

His mother looked back at him. Her face was suddenly very composed. “Lute, just talk to her. Chainer’s a good class. And I think…I’m sure she’ll make it worth your while.”

“If I do this, then can we go to the career counselor tomorrow?”

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Jessica didn’t answer for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “We can do that.”

“It isn’t far from Dad’s place,” Lute added. “I might stop by again. He didn’t answer my voicemails.”

He stuffed his feet into the shoes, then he followed his mother through the mansion, down the curving staircase into the White Parlor, through it and down a hall to Aulia’s office.

Jessica stopped outside the door.

“You’re not going in with me?” Lute hissed.

“Why? Are you scared of your grandma?”

“No.” A little.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, baby. More than anything else in the whole world. You can do this. You’re going to be great.”

Now Lute felt embarrassed for making her say something like that before a simple conversation with his own grandmother. He stepped through the door.

Aulia was at her desk. Four globes—one Earth and each of the Artonas—stood on wooden pedestals behind her. A fluffy gray cat was sitting in her lap, purring as she stroked it.

Persia had been dropped off by Orpheus a few years ago. Lute wasn’t sure whose cat she was officially, but her heart belonged to the housekeeper.

Aulia stood and set her on the floor. She stepped out from behind the desk. “Well?” she said, holding her arms out and spinning in a slow circle. “What’s the verdict?”

Teal sleeveless mock turtleneck. Batiked harem pants. Low-top sneakers. Large wooden hoop earrings and a wooden armlet. Her hair was in a French braid.

“Early 1970s Universalian,” said Lute. “They wanted to look Artonan but cooler.”

“Bingo!” said Aulia, putting a hand on her hip. “They also wanted to look as different as possible from those fogeys who were hankering for a return to the 50s.”

“I don’t want Chainer. Give it to Hazel.”

His grandmother heaved a dramatic sigh and flopped back down into her rolling chair. She crossed one leg over the other.

“You know, Lute,” she said, “I’m sure the Artonans could tell me if Hazel was an S-rank. Or they could have told me you were. Maybe not the minute you were born, but surely before you were this age. If the System knows, how could they not? But they have very stubbornly refused to give me any information like that. In fact, they get ridiculously offended if I ask. They seem to think having such answers might lead me to rear young minds improperly. A rather backward point of view considering how all of this has gone.”

If the Artonans had told her about me years ago, would I have spent all my time locked away with her and Hazel? Lute shuddered.

“Jessica…” Aulia frowned. “Your mother seems to have held a similar sort of opinion without me realizing. If she had acted differently, if she had given me some inkling that you might be Avowed…you would’ve faced less trouble. I would have insisted on teaching you. As you aged, I would have noticed you were above average, I’m sure. Some children surpass others through effort even though they lack talent, as your mother did. But when talent is present it always shows itself eventually. Cream rises, as they say.”

She arched a brow at him. “To be frank with you, Lute, I haven’t given up on Hazel achieving S-rank. So I hope you’ll take it as a compliment that I wish to give you the position over her. You haven’t had any of the training I prefer to give our new Chainers before they’re presented to the people of the Triplanets, but as your mother points out, you’ve proven you’re capable in other ways. You speak two foreign languages, you are accustomed to long hours of practice with your harp, and your casting of such a rusty chain was fateful. Don’t you think? I selected that one because I knew it would be. Magic has so obviously chosen your cousin, I was blind to the fact that it has also chosen you.”

Yes. That was a completely sane way to decide how valuable family members are.

“An S at fourteen,” Aulia said. “Do you know how many people have called to congratulate me on you? And there have already been tasteless questions about your origins. I would expect a smidge of jealousy and misdirected anger from fools and their mediocre children for the next few years. Take whatever idiotic accusations they throw your way as compliments. And, of course, you’re my grandson. You’ll suit Chainer well.”

Lute swallowed. “Are you saying that the family won’t help me get any other class?”

“Does it sound like I’m saying that?”

Aulia opened her desk drawer and took out a deck of tarot cards. They had been in there for as long as Lute could remember. When he was little, he’d asked her if she believed in them, and she’d said of course not. They were just useful for putting her thoughts in order. Only an idiot would take them seriously when real magic existed.

He still didn’t know what to make of that.

She laid the first card on the table. “What is it you think you hate about Chainer?”

“I don’t want to be around most of the people who have the class.”

“Get an apartment,” said Aulia. “Lock the door and tell the family members you don’t like to go away.”

Does she not realize that includes her?

“I don’t even understand what it is you all do when you’re summoned.”

“You’ll be wonderful at it! It’s simple. You go, you use Mass Bestowal until it doesn’t work anymore, you meet lots of people who are very excited to see an important Avowed, and then you come back home.”

“Anyone can do wordchains,” Lute said. “I know you learn extra ones—”

“Anyone can do wordchains, yes. But do you see many people running around using them as often as we do? The System will adjust you in ways that make learning them so much easier. And you’ll be able to give them to other people. Master a few highly desirable ones, and you can make a fortune of your very own if you like.”

“It…” Lute hesitated, “…Chainer doesn’t feel very much like magic.”

Aulia looked up from the Ten of Swords. “What?”

“Grandma, if I’m going to have magic—” after thinking I couldn’t for so long, “—I’d rather it do something more obviously magical.”

An illusion of the moon. Flight. A swimming pool’s worth of water obeying his command. Even something like Roman’s new lost item finding skill.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about right now,” Aulia said. “In a couple of seconds, I could pass you a chain that would make you as strong as an ox. What’s not magical about that?”

Lute shrugged. “It’s just how I feel right now. Chainer sounds okay, but it’s not my favorite. If you’ll help me get other classes, that’s great. If not, I’ll take Shaper of Water.”

No thanks. I haven’t enjoyed being a Velra of Great Worth for the past few days. I’ll make my own way.

He felt good saying it.

When his grandmother didn’t answer, he decided it was fine for him to declare the meeting over himself. He turned to leave.

“I’ve heard you claimed you wouldn’t take Chainer unless I gave you Libra. Or Horatio. Don’t you have expensive tastes?”

The bitterness stirred. Lute was afraid if he turned around, he’d yell at her. And he didn’t actually want to make her that mad.

Aulia was the ultimate authority in his life and, more importantly, his mother’s. She always had been. Even if he could get an apartment and lock her out of it…it would be a while before he was out of school and able to work. It would be a while before he had the resources to completely sever ties without risking things that mattered more to him than his own pride.

“You can have Horatio.”

Lute spun. “What?”

Aulia’s smile was gone. “Imagine. Asking me for a whole person. A Healer. I almost admire you for it.”

She set aside the deck. “You say Chainer is ‘okay’ with you, so you don’t actually dislike the class that much. That’s enough. You’ll see its benefits once you have it in hand. You can’t have the entirety of Horatio, though, no matter how…interesting I find the request. You can have one hundred and forty years of youth restoring treatments for whomever you like, whenever you’d like. A decade of rejuvenation for every year of your own life. It’s not like his talents control things on a literal year by year level, but we can approximate the amount. What do you think?”

Lute didn’t think anything at all. His mind had gone blank.

Aulia crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

“You…” said Lute, his voice cracking. “You’re just….you’re going to give me one hundred and forty years worth of rejuvenation treatments. To do whatever I like with? When you won’t give…”

His neck was hot. Jessica might still be right outside the door. He dropped his voice to a fierce whisper. “When you won’t give Mom anything?! She does everything for you. She’s the hardest working member of the entire family. And just because I got an S—”

“An early S,” said Aulia. “A very early and auspicious S.”

“I don’t care how early it was. I don’t care if I was born with the letter tattooed on my ass!”

“Oh, you’re old enough to swear at your grandmother now. Precious.”

You monster, thought Lute. You’re an awful monster of an old lady and if there was a magic power to suck all of the youth and beauty out of your face, I’d use it on you right now.

“I’ll make my own money,” he said. “I’ll make enough to get a rejuvenator myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” said Aulia. “You’re clearly very angry, but since it’s for the sake of your mother, I won’t hold it against you. I promise, on the day you have enough money and connections to force your way onto a rejuvenator’s waiting list, I’ll applaud you. How long do you think it will be?”

Lute stared at her.

“Eight more years of school before you can work full-time. But maybe you’ll be summoned often, and that will really speed you along in terms of money and connections. Shaper of Water is so useful. If you go through a talent development program and focus on leveling it intensely to the exclusion of all else, you’ll no doubt become one of the best in the world. And maybe the Artonans will stop being so stingy with the rejuvenation skills in the first place. If they dole them out more often, then the Healers being selected right now who choose to follow that path could be at Horatio’s level in…well, he’s the same age as me.”

She sighed through her nose. “I believe you’re capable of getting there. But you have a painful and lengthy journey ahead of you. You wouldn’t believe the things some people put themselves through to get on those lists. They ruin their youths in the process of chasing youth if you ask me. Wouldn’t it be much simpler for me to—” She made a flicking gesture with her fingers, “—thump some relative who’s already had a turn or three off the list for you so that you can put whoever you like in their place?”

I’m trapped, thought Lute.

He could feel the tension in his muscles, like he was preparing to bolt.

“Why…?” he said. “Why are you pressuring me so much? Just for Chainer? Why is…?”

Why is an S rank worth this much? When only days ago I was worth nothing at all to you. When my Mom is apparently still worth nothing at all.

I hate Anesidora. I want to leave this place forever.

“Don’t feel pressured,” said Aulia calmly. “This is only a business agreement. I’m presenting you with an option you didn’t have previously. Make whatever choice you want.”

Then she swiveled her chair around to stare at the globes.

“I need time to…to think.”

“Take as much time as you like,” said his grandmother. “But…while you think, consider this: if Hazel does get an S, I’ll give the prize to her. It’s just like in our game the other night. In the event of a tie, the first to volunteer wins.”

Lute fled.

The house was dark. One of the automatic nightlights in the hall turned on as he ran from the office, casting his shadow against the walls. In the White Parlor, he found his mother sitting beside her computer on the sofa, staring down at her hands.

“Oh,” she said, giving him a shaky smile, “you caught me. I was so nervous I was just sitting here instead of working.”

He threw himself at her and grabbed her in a hug.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica asked.

“We need to leave,” said Lute in a muffled voice. “She’s awful, Mom. We need to live somewhere else.”

She stroked the back of his head. “Lute, I like it here. And I love your grandmother.”

“She doesn’t love you back.” He didn’t let go of her. He felt like if he let go of her, she would disappear. “I think…I think I might have to take Chainer.”

Her arms tightened around him.

“It’ll be all right, won’t it?” He could barely think through it. There was suddenly a ticking clock over his head, and it wasn’t the friendly ninety day clock the System had given him.

The first to volunteer wins. Hazel probably wouldn’t get S. But she might. She might any second. She was so freaking old. The System could be giving her that speech right now.

“It wasn’t…it’s not my least favorite class. And I don’t have to hang around the family just because I’m a Chainer. I can get an apartment and lock people out. I can support myself. When I was making my list, I liked the schedule. Because I could keep being a musician instead of spending all my time on Avowed stuff. I never wanted this in the first place, so any class that’s not too hard and doesn’t get me killed…that was how I was thinking the first day. That’s still a bit how I’ve been thinking. Like if I did get the right kind of Rabbit skill, it wouldn’t be that different from Chainer, would it? I only put it so low because of the cousins. That’s such a childish reason to discard a class. Maybe I actually like it fine?”

Shaper of Water was in his head. And the moon. That was dumb. Lute had lived his whole life not wanting magic at all. Now that he thought he might get it, he was getting off track.

“I did do that wordchain when Hazel couldn’t the other night. So, I’m probably not going to suck at them. And…I need to be practical. Chainer is very practical.”

He rambled on until he finally realized he was rambling on.

He was still so anxious he couldn’t feel embarrassed that he’d been hugging his mother and babbling in her ear for entirely too long. He let go of her and stood up, straightening his Beethoven shirt. “I’m making the right decision, aren’t I, Mom? It’s…I know it’s an important decision, and she’s making me rush. I hate her so freaking much. But this is still the right decision?”

Jessica leaned forward. “Well,” she said, “I want you to be happy. And I want you to be safe. And I don’t want you to have to live your life being summoned every few seconds for who knows what. I think Chainer will give you all those things, when not many other things could.”

“Yeah. I know you don’t like the Shaper idea,” Lute said.

“I think that class might get you killed one day,” said Jessica. “So you’ll have to forgive me for not being a fan. It just doesn’t feel like you to me.”

“And Rabbit’s…if I had the perfect Rabbit skill it might be great, but what if the Artonans suddenly decide they just can’t go five minutes without seeing my face?”

“It’s a cute face.”

“So they’d summon me all the time. One minute I’m in bed, the next I’m falling all over myself trying to get clothes on before someone orders me to polish their chandeliers.”

“You don’t even like cleaning your own room,” said Jessica.

“I think I’d like it a lot more if magic was involved.” Lute sighed. “But still. Chainer. It’s not bad at all.”

“It’s right for you,” she said firmly.

“You think so?”

“I truly do.”

The reassurance did make him feel better.

“Hazel’s going to lose her mind. If she really does get an S, too, I might need to hire protection. Okay. Chainer. Easy decision. I don’t know why I’m freaking out. Let me just go tell Grandma.”

He walked back to her office. Slightly less panicked.

This was fine. And he had a rough idea of what Horatio’s time cost due to his obsession with the subject. His grandmother was a hateful witch for holding it over his head, but at least he was getting a huge bonus for taking a class that his cousins were willing to kill each other for.

This Avowed nonsense is all really hard. No wonder my classmates are a bunch of lunatics.

He knocked on the door and entered.

“That didn’t take you very long.” His grandmother’s voice was pleasant. Her feet were propped on the desk and she was staring at the ceiling.

“I’ll do it,” Lute said. “I’ll take Chainer. Um…do I have to get that tattoo like everyone—?”

“The family mark is nonnegotiable.”

“And do we hire a lawyer in the morning for making the agreement about the Healer or what?”

No way was he giving her anything until he was sure she couldn’t cheat him out of that.

“You want it to be binding, don’t you?” Aulia said. “We’ll tie it into the tattoo with all the rest of it so you can be sure of my integrity.”

I’m getting that tattoo on my ass. For real. Whichever butt cheek is my least favorite.

“So when do we—?”

She smiled. “Right about…”

“When?”

“Wait for it…now.”

[Invitation from Contract Artist Rekiss-tha

House of the Southern Convocation

Palace of Unbreaking

Artona III]

[Teleport in 74s]

[Accept/Reject]

******

******

“And so I was branded for life at the age of fourteen,” Lute said. “The next thing that happened was—”

“I don’t get to hear about the tattoo ceremony?!” Haoyu protested. “That’s the first time you went to the Triplanets!”

“But I can hardly tell you anything about it. I can’t tell you exactly where I was or what its function is. I can’t tell you all the things I agreed to or didn’t.”

“I don’t mind. You’ve left out other things and it’s still interesting. Like, you said your grandmother tested you with a wordchain but you wouldn’t tell us what it was called or what it did.”

“That’s because she had me promise not to divulge it during our little tattoo session.”

“What did the tattoo artist look like?” Haoyu asked. “Was he nice?”

“She. And I don’t actually know if she was nice. She wasn’t mean to me or anything. But I wasn’t in the best frame of mind to be making character judgments. Clearly.”

“Were you high?” Alden asked.

Haoyu looked at him in surprise.

“I mean while he was getting the tattoo,” Alden clarified. “I’m not asking if he was high when he was making his decisions about his class.”

“I don’t think I was. I was relaxed in a really specific way…fine, I’ll tell you some of it.”

******

******

Lute Velra had never expected to see one of the Triplanets in real life. When the teleport ended, his eyes were shut tight and he was thinking, Another planet! Wizards are going to look at me! Aliens are going to think things about me and talk to me! Wizard aliens! I’m getting a tattoo! Becoming an Avowed! Mom! What was the Contract Artist’s name again? How is it pronounced? I was supposed to have more time.

His eyes opened. He was breathing fast.

He was…in a parking lot. Outside of what appeared to be a stadium. A pair of giant swooping wing shapes, made of a metal that looked like hammered bronze, sheltered it.

Did the System put us in the wrong spot? he wondered. Then, madly, If it did, is this my one and only chance to run away and live in Europe under a false identity?

Reality asserted itself quickly.

The parking lot didn’t have painted spaces for cars. Instead it was covered in patterns and logograms. The air smelled peculiar. It was a sunny day.

“It’s warm,” he said. “Do you think it’s thirty degrees?”

“Probably. Though that’s not particularly hot for this area.”

Aulia started striding toward the stadium, and Lute hurried after her. A driverless cart met them halfway and carried them to their destination.

“Do they play some kind of sport here?” Lute asked as he stepped off the cart in front of a massive entrance where towering statues of Artonans holding up the edges of one of the bronze wings made a shaded area.

His grandmother laughed. “Oh, to be your age! ”

Was that a yes or a no?

Soon, he was walking into his first alien building. It looked like a conference center, but a very decorated one. Logograms everywhere. No people…

Oh, there’s one.

Lute took in the sight of the Artonan. They were wheeling something like a library cart covered in small wooden pyramids out of a nearby room.

At the sight of Lute and Aulia, the Artonan froze. And stared.

It wasn’t until they were on an elevator down to a sub level that it occurred to Lute that he was the real alien in this alien seeming place. That person was having an ordinary Artonan Monday. And then we walked by.

Maybe they were going to go home and tell their kids that they’d seen a human boy at work today.

The two of them met their Contract Artist in a hot and dim circular room full of what looked like adjustable massage tables. A trio of people in matching robes, who Lute assumed were assistants, were prepping two adjacent tables. Rekiss-tha, standing between them, took one look at Lute and said, <>

<> Aulia said easily.

“I’m fourteen.” Lute was determined not to let Aulia to do all the talking for him even if he was language limited. “In Earth years.”

Rekiss-tha had a lens that hovered in front of her left eye. Lute was assuming she got translations through it. Her wizard garb seemed unusually elaborate and very rainbow-colored.

<> she said again.

<> Aulia said. <>

I will be working for a palace soon. That’s…is that good?

The tattooist grunted with obvious displeasure at this news. Then she made a fluttering gesture at Aulia. <>

Aulia smiled and hopped up onto the nearest table.

Rekiss-tha beckoned Lute over. She looked at him with reddish-brown eyes. <>

“Yes.”

<>

She sounded hopeful.

“No,” Lute said quickly. “No…thank you. Not my face.”

<>

My ass.

My bum.

My butt.

Nope, none of those words were coming out. He meant them, but they would not come out.

What about rump?

Not that one either. Lute couldn’t look a wizard lady in the eye ten minutes after arriving on another planet for the first time and request a tattoo in that location. No matter how displeased he was with his grandmother.

I’m kind of afraid of Rekiss-tha, aren’t I?

There was a knot of worry in his gut. He was about to be an Avowed. She was a wizard. She could summon him.

She was probably much more trustworthy than Aulia, just based on the odds. But it was still a very strange realization that he was about to be, officially, at the Artonans’ beck and call.

Maybe Chainer really is the best choice. That boring work schedule they all seem to have is sounding comforting right about now.

Still he couldn’t let himself be entirely overwhelmed. He was going to stand up for himself. Fight the fear. Fight his Grandmother.

It’s going to last forever. It has to go in the right spot. I have to make a statement as the least of the Velras. I’m a teenager. I can say the word ass!

“I’d like it on my lower back, please.”

“Are you sure about that one, dear?” Aulia asked. “I know I didn’t give you much time to prepare. You can ponder it for a while longer.”

Lute rounded on her. “I can have my tattoo wherever I want. I think I know my own mind. Lower back is a classic location.”

She held up her hands.

“I’ve always wanted one there.”

Dammit, he thought as he climbed up on his table and accepted a cup of…maybe it was oily gray tea?…from one of the assistants. It’s fine. The lower back is close enough. I can still call it an ass tattoo.

Anyway, who would get a butt tattoo with their grandma in the room? He was making better choices.

This stuff tastes like chalk.

Sometime later, he was facedown on the table. Pleasant-smelling smoke kept wafting unerringly toward his nostrils from the incense burning all around them.

Lute was in an odd mental space. Spells had been involved and the tea, and he was simultaneously very relaxed and very focused. He was barely aware of the lines of paint Rekiss-tha was putting on his back with a delicate brush. But he was extremely aware of the words she was saying. It was as though every one of them had meanings so powerful they could obliterate everything else in their path.

<>

He was aware he was learning a whole lot about Chainer through this process. But at the same time, he couldn’t care about a such a trivial thing. What mattered was each word. Understanding it. Thinking about whether he agreed with it or not.

At one point, Rekiss-tha patted Lute on the shoulder. A ringing tone that had filled the room—when had that started?—suddenly stopped, and she said, <>

A long pause.

<> Aulia said in a dreamy voice.

<> said the tattooist. <>

<>

<>

“What’s wrong?” Lute mumbled.

<> said Rekiss-tha, patting his shoulder again. <>

<> Aulia said, still distant. <>

Rekiss-tha grunted. <> she said. <>

Then the tone came back to the room, and Lute was focusing on the words again.

What could have been hours later, he gradually came to his senses enough to realize that he was sitting in a comfy chair holding a cup of wevvi and nodding politely at one of the assistants. She was asking him if he remembered everything he’d agreed to.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s all right here in my head.”

At the front of his mind in fact. Like the information had been written there very recently in a bold hand.

“I remember arguing with my grandmother about some of the lines, even. But it also feels like it didn’t really happen.”

<>

She asked him a few more questions that seemed designed to check that he was recovering from his altered state properly, then left him alone in the side room with his cup of wevvi. Lute ran through the terms of the family contract in his head while he sipped his drink.

This would be better with cocoa powder in it. Wow, Grandma takes micromanaging to an embarrassing level. All of these little details are just stupid. Never tell anyone about this family member’s skill. You can tell everyone about this. Keep these thirty-eight specific facts about your work secret.

He didn’t have his hands on the class yet, but this sounded like it all added up to Aulia sowing confusion about how their powers worked so that people thought she was more special than she really was. And to hide some weaknesses from her enemies. For example, the Gloss—the big trump card that Lute was now obligated to allow her to cast on him, with certain conditions—

******

******

“What about the Gloss?” Haoyu asked.

“Ass tatt.”

“Awwww…”

******

******

—the big trump card that Lute was now obligated to allow her to cast on him, with certain conditions—had to be paid for in full.

Everyone knew one of the main benefits of being a Chainer was that you got more than you paid for and you could selectively reduce the cost of wordchain halves. But Lute had just agreed to keep a lot of secrets about how Chainer debt repayment worked in general, so there was something uncool going on somewhere. And he’d specifically agreed never to let anyone know that certain wordchains, including the Gloss, could not be attenuated or repaid by other parties.

Aulia’s signature wordchain had mythic status on Anesidora. If you could summon up good luck for yourself and your family and never receive as much bad luck in return, then you had a guaranteed win button. If you just kept pressing it, you’d eventually pull ahead of everyone else, and the only reason Aulia didn’t do that was because she was a respectable council member who didn’t want to risk causing nationwide havoc for her own gain.

Well that’s a lot of crap, thought Lute. The reason she doesn’t do that is obviously because there’s no point! There’s no benefit if you have to pay it all back! Why on Earth would she ever use it?

Aulia breezed into the room, her wooden hoop earrings swinging. “You’re back to yourself, I see! Excellent. I was just telling some people about you. They can’t wait to meet you. But they’ll have to I’m afraid. We have an appointment to get you your new class.”

She’s chipper.

“Hey,” he said. “Do Chainers only work for this Palace of Unbreaking? Because one of the terms in the contract—”

“That’s right!” Aulia said. “Hop up. We’ll be exiting from the same spot we arrived in.”

She held out a hand as if she were going to pull him out of the chair and onto his feet. Lute ignored it and stood on his own.

“We don’t ever get summoned by anyone else? Ever?”

“Hardly ever,” said Aulia, “The Palace has exclusive summoning rights for Chainers. They can loan us out, but they rarely see fit to do that.”

Lute peered at her. “Is that a good thing?”

It didn’t sound like the worst thing, depending on how nice the palace people were, but the family had been quite tight-lipped about it. Lute had thought that they all worked for the same place, but he hadn’t been aware that they could only work for that place.

“It has its pros and its cons,” Aulia said, her smile turning forced. “When I was a little older than you and had my first magical adventure…I admit, I was somewhat distressed to find that I wouldn’t have access to the entirety of the Triplanets. But what Avowed does?”

Access…thought Lute as they rode the cart across the parking lot where nobody parked.

“Don’t you have friends all over the Triplanets?” Lute said. “Everyone says you—”

“The Palace exists in multiple locations on all three Artonas,” Aulia replied. “And there are a few on other worlds. Plus there are plenty of other ways to make connections.”

“Yes…but that’s definitely not the impression most people have about you.”

“As I said, there are pros and cons. For example, the Palace doesn’t summon other classes of Avowed. Feel free to tell people that as long as you adhere to the family guidelines about making it sound the proper way.”

“Why do we have guidelines about how things sound? It’s weird.”

“What people think is the truth is often more powerful than the actual truth,” Aulia said in a tone that seemed designed to convey wisdom.

That sounds bogus, thought Lute. That sounds like the kind of thing you say because the actual truth is that Chainers are isolated from the rest of the Triplanets and we only get to work with one specific group of Artonans. Who own buildings that look like sports stadiums.

“Why is it good that they don’t summon other Avowed?” he asked.

“Because there’s power to be had here, dear,” said Aulia. “Why would we want to share it?”

******

When they arrived back home, it was mid-morning. Jessica was waiting in Aulia’s office with a dark-haired boy in a dress shirt. He leaped to his feet as soon as Aulia entered and said, “Counselor Velra!” excitedly.

“Yes, you’ve won the lottery, haven’t you?” Aulia said. “Thank you for holding the class for us for the past few months. The funds have all been transferred? Good. Jessica, give us a moment alone.”

Lute’s mother hugged him, then left.

“Lute, trade with him,” Aulia said when the door had closed behind her.

It’s too soon. I’m not quite ready. Let me think about it just a little longer.

The protest died inside him. Among the thousand other things the tattoo he now wore said, he had promised he would affix Chainer, and in return, Aulia had promised she would do everything in her power to uphold her end of the bargain even if Horatio the Healer dropped dead suddenly.

The other guy enthusiastically initiated the trade. Aulia stood there as an authorized witness. Lute accepted.

There was a twinge of regret when the words Shaper of Water were replaced by Chainer.

Giving up Wright didn’t feel like that.

He knew he was just being childish. He’d spent his whole life thinking he wouldn’t be Avowed at all. Any class he got would make him far more magical than he’d ever expected to be.

While he tried to distract himself from the unexpected sense of loss by examining the Artona III globe and trying to figure out exactly where he’d just spent the past few hours of his life, Aulia said kind politiciany things to his trading partner and wished him a bright future before sending him out the door.

It clicked shut behind him.

“All right,” she said. “What an exciting morning! Now, you’ll hold the Chainer assignment for the next two and a half months while we give you a crash course on everything you need. I’d download the language into your head if I could, but even beginning to teach you that kind of thing will have to wait. There’s so much else. You’ll need a wordchain repertoire first, lessons on the unique culture surrounding the Palace of Unbreaking, and etiquette. God, the etiquette! And of course I’ll be giving you a complete rundown of all the important figures you might meet during the course of your work.”

Lute looked around. “You don’t want me to affix the class right away?”

“Absolutely not,” said Aulia. “You’re already contracted to do it, so I’m not worried about a change of heart. You’re an S. We don’t have that many. More than any of the others, you need a thorough education in how to handle yourself and how to handle the people you’ll encounter. It will take time, but the Palace tends to summon new Chainers very quickly to say hello. I don’t want you affixing until I’ve nudged things around and talked to the leaders about you. Given your age, and the way Orpheus fell apart when he started, it shouldn’t be hard to convince them you need to work alongside one of us every time you’re summoned for the next few years.”

“I think I’ll be all right on my own.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yes, yes. I know you’ve decided I’m a terrible person. But would you really rather work all alone with a bunch of aliens instead of having some backup from some more experienced members of your own family?”

“Maybe if it’s Aimi.”

“Aimi can’t be your keeper. Aimi needs a keeper of her own. It’s…nine in the morning. We’ll have breakfast brought in here and get started on your first lessons right away.”

Breakfast is French toast casserole today. Lute had the menu he’d made with Kabir for this week memorized. Breakfasts were the only non-spicy dishes on it for some reason.

“How much time is all this tutoring going to take?” Lute asked.

“I’m in the process of clearing my schedule for the coming weeks. We don’t have a moment to lose.” Aulia’s eyes were flicking through the air as she did something with her interface.

“I have school.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you want to spend the next few weeks practicing your multiplication tables or do you want to know how to handle your career on the Triplanets?”

Multiplication tables? When was the last time she looked at eighth grade math homework?

She walked over to him and reclaimed her swivel chair. He was standing between her and the globe.

“One more thing…” Her lips twisted. “Jessica has asked me not to tell you that you’ve made a judgment error until you’ve grown to enjoy your new class, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to accommodate her wishes. I prefer not to become tutor to a grandson who thinks I’m evil. I would feel bad, since she and I have a relationship built on trust. But apparently that trust doesn’t run as deep as I thought it did.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I asked her who your genetic father was. She insisted it was Cyril. You haven’t demanded to know otherwise yet; I suppose she feels like preserving that little illusion for you if you want it. Do fill me in if you change your mind. I’d be very interested.” Aulia stacked the tarot cards she’d left behind earlier and tucked them back into the desk drawer. “As for your error…I never had any intention of letting your mother, or you, suffer the ravages of time while the rest of us lived on.”

“I don’t believe—”

“Healing doesn’t always work. You know that?”

Lute frowned. “I know there are some things that magic won’t fix. And there’s reversion.”

“Artonans had magic long before they understood cells or genes. Healing does things beyond the realm of medicine and it suffers from drawbacks beyond the realm of medicine as well. Reversion, for example. On occasion, or in response to certain interferences, a Healer’s work can revert. A week passes and a healed bone is suddenly broken again.”

“Reversion is really rare though.”

“Yes. But it’s more common after intensive or repeated bouts of healing. And it’s more common when the healing is done by Avowed.”

“What? I’ve never heard that!”

“It’s rare enough no matter who the Healer is, so it’s not something you need to worry about on a daily basis. My point is that healing is miraculous, but it isn’t flawless. A specially trained wizard—or sometimes a whole team of them—can offer gentler, more customized healing options than any Avowed we currently have here on Earth. Rejuvenation is considered an extreme magical process. The Artonans who are allowed to take advantage of it almost never use Avowed for their own treatments.”

She interlaced her fingers over her stomach and watched him.

“When I realized Jessica wouldn’t be one of us, I researched the matter. Not many regular humans have received rejuvenation treatments, especially not multiple ones, and there wasn’t a lot of information here on Earth. But I found it on the Triplanets. I was told that a non-Avowed would be more delicate than you and I are. They said that if I wanted her to have the longest life possible, she should be treated there by specialists. Not here by someone like Horatio.

“Getting it lined up for her isn’t simple. We’re waiting another decade or so and then I’m going to agree to what will no doubt be a gauntlet of awful favors in order to have a Rabbit who’s an expert at locating human-friendly healers arrange it for us.”

The first thing Lute felt was relief.

The second was a dawning understanding that almost took his breath away.

“You’re…I know you’re lying,” he said. “Mom knew what I thought. I told her, and she never said…there was no reason for her to let me think…”

“She’s the one who told me about your misapprehension in the first place,” Aulia pointed out. “I was confident I could persuade you to want Chainer on your own, but she was afraid that you were only going to grow more enamored with Shaper as time passed. Or with Rabbit. She thought one was too dangerous. She thought the other might take you off the planet so that she could never see you again. A bit silly. It’s not like we have Shapers dying left and right. Most Rabbits enjoy their travels. But Jessica is most familiar with Chainer. She understands all of its drawbacks and benefits clearly. She wanted it for you. And I wanted you for it. So she suggested that if all else failed, we might take advantage of your misunderstanding so that you would do what was best for yourself.”

No, thought Lute. No, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that to me.

“I’m sure you picked up the idea that I was a coldhearted creature who would let my own daughter die from the rest of the family. Obviously Jessica and I don’t tell them that she’ll be receiving access to far superior magical treatments in the future. It would only make them jealous and obnoxious. Some of the more shameless ones would hover around me at all hours, begging for more than I already give them.”

Aulia put her feet up on the desk. One of the laces of her sneakers was beginning to come untied.

“So now you have the full picture. You mother has always been well cared for. You were to be well cared for. And please remember that even if I played a little trick on you, I did give you Horatio’s time to use for whomever you wish. It would have been so easy just to promise you that I would help Jessica get rejuvenation treatments, and it wouldn’t have cost me anything at all since that was already my plan.”

I’ve already agreed. I agreed to it.

When he tried to imagine himself giving Chainer away to someone else, he could feel it. The contract. He could hate the class. He could want to be rid of it. But as soon as he seriously thought about trying to be rid of it, there was this…denial of the possibility that it could be a reality.

He’d promised. He’d meant it. It was done.

Aulia laughed suddenly. “You’re the first person I’ve ever paid to take Chainer! Think of it as an apology for all the years of my tutelage you missed. Do what you want with your prize. Sell it for a fortune. Give it to the man you call your father. Save it for yourself or share it with someone you find in the future. Enjoy!”

There was a cry of rage. The Artona III globe hit the floor. Lute Velra was running through the mansion, through the White Parlor, past the kitchen, toward the front door.

His mother was there picking up a pair of shoes someone had left in the wrong spot when they came in.

“Lute?”

“You lied to me!” he shouted. “You lied to me my whole life! You lied to me about all the most important things in my life!”

She looked so shocked. “Lute, let’s calm—”

“NO!”

She reached for him, and he backed away from her so fast he almost tripped.

“This was supposed to be my decision! Mine! It’s the biggest choice I’ll ever make, and I was trying so hard to get it right, and you knew that, and you lied to me!”

“I just want you to be happ—”

“Go fuck yourself! Keep picking up everyone else’s shit until you really die. I promise I won’t shed a single tear for you ever again!”

He ran past her and out the door.

She lied. She lied to me and dad. She lied about me possibly being Avowed. She plotted with Grandma to make me take Chainer.

He ran until he was about to collapse. He stumbled onto a bus.

Jessica kept sending him texts and voicemails, trying to explain that she understood how upset he was and she loved him and she only wanted to make sure he had the best life possible. [That’s all,] she wrote, [I’ve ever wanted for you.]

[Make Aulia agree to break the contract,] he wrote back finally.

[Come home. We’ll talk.]

[Make Aulia break the contract. Let me make a choice when I have all the facts. Fix what you did.]

He went to Cyril’s and practically forced his way into the apartment. He stayed for a couple of nights, trying to ignore the fact that the atmosphere had turned poisonous from a combination of him needing his dad to act normal around him and his dad not being able to do that.

The only moment of connection came when he first explained what had happened.

“She was raised to be this way, wasn’t she?” Cyril said, giving Lute an orange juice to drink since that was all he had in the fridge at the moment. “Chainer this. Chainer that. Jessica always said she hated it and that things were going to be different with you, but I guess she meant she was going to wait and see if you were actually Avowed before she put you in the family business instead of starting when you were a toddler.”

Lute clenched his juice glass in both hands. “If she doesn’t at least try to get Aulia to let me out of the agreement, I’ll never forgive her.”

“Doubt she’ll believe you about that. After all, she forgave Aulia for everything, didn’t she?”

They talked for a while longer. Lute was starting to relax and get things off his chest. Then Cyril had to ruin it.

“It’s not right, but really, Lute, you haven’t got much to complain about. Chosen at fourteen. S-rank. About to become an Avowed with one of the rarest classes. Be happy with what you’ve got.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lute asked. “I have to be happy about my own family manipulating me because they’re manipulating me to take something other people would want?”

“I’m just saying…”

“I wanted to be a musician. I had goals of my own and I have worked toward them every day. For years.”

Cyril snorted. “Nobody would choose that life over the one you’ll be getting.”

Lute hated him right then. Just a little.

He started his applications to all of Anesidora’s best high school music programs that night. When the forms asked him to input his Avowed class, he wrote, “harpist.” He wished the forms were paper instead of electronic so that he could write the word more aggressively to get his point across.

Filling out the forms and writing essays about his future as if class and rank were completely irrelevant to him gave him some clarity.

I’ve already screwed up. Bad. I trusted the wrong person. My mom. If your mom is the wrong person, then who’s the right one?

Never mind. It’s done.

What do I need to do now?

There weren’t many options. He could keep throwing himself on his family’s mercy and sense of justice and hope they saw reason. He could try to convince Aulia that he was the second coming of Orpheus by finding substances and abusing them in public. He could be the most epic brat in the world in some other kind of way and hope she was dumb enough to believe it was a longterm state. He could wait quietly and hope Hazel had an S buried in the black pit she had in place of a heart.

These are terrible. The first is naive, and I’m tired of being naive. The second is self-destructive and why should I destroy myself for them? The third…could be really fun. But I don’t think she’d buy it. The fourth is just unlikely.

He’d been expecting Hazel to call him. She hadn’t.

He didn’t know if she was busy plotting to kill him or if she was just really depressed. Despite what Aulia had said, Lute didn’t think she was expecting S for Hazel anymore either. One too many disappointments. One too many signs from the universe against her. First a surprise Roman causing a family schism. Now a surprise Lute in all his youthful glory!

Lute pulled his applications up on his interface. The word “harpist” was so satisfying. The answers he’d written about what kind of musician he hoped to be were so him.

This is who I am. Why can’t I still be this?

“System, can I ask you a question?”

Why not? Mom can never be trusted again. Dad’s…not at his best.

“Haha, System. You’re my family now. That’s what you get for picking Lute Velra.” He dragged a blanket off his bed and sat on the floor. “What should I do?”

He waited.

[Make a choice for yourself.]

“Thanks I guess.”

Lute continued to stare at the words. The System was just telling him what he already knew. It was up to him. Decide.

Deciding had been so impossible since the moment he had been selected. It turned out that the real life version of the dice game scrambled your head up horribly.

“I’m always going to be a harpist,” he said.

A choice. Just one.

“I’m going to be the best musician on Anesidora. I don’t care what my class is or what theirs is. I’m going to destroy them all.”

Two.

“I’m going to high school. No way am I getting roped into private tutoring. I want people who aren’t my family around me.”

Three.

The more choices he made, the more solid ground he had to stand on. Two weeks ago, he’d known himself perfectly. He just had to build it back brick by brick.

Lute kept at it, making decisions about tiny things when he couldn’t handle the big ones. Until finally…

I think I’m back. I think I’m me again.

The class he ended up with was terribly important. It would shape his whole life. But it wouldn’t be his whole life.

He could look at it more calmly when he thought of it that way.

The most likely outcome from this point on is that I affix Chainer. Lute Velra-Harpist. Side order of wordchains. Address: Anesidora.

If that’s the way it goes, what choices are there left for me to make?

Aulia was planning to tutor him and teach him everything he needed to know over the course of the next two months. She was planning to have a chat with the Artonans and make sure he was placed with a family monitor even when he was on other worlds. She was planning to have control.

Lute dropped his blanket and went to the bathroom. He checked out the ornate symbol on his back for the thousandth time. It was a lot of geometric linework contained in a shape that looked like a wide-splayed letter V.

I think this is enough control for one lifetime, he thought. I think…she doesn’t get to have anymore.

A choice.

A big one.

He did sleep on it, just in case he was insane. But when he woke up in the morning, he still felt sure that he wanted to do it.

“I’d like to sign the Contract,” he said. “Right now.”

“Welcome, Lute,” the System murmured in his ear. “And thank you for your future service.”

******

“What is this?” Lute asked, staring at his interface.

He’d selected the Skills tab first because he wanted to see what juicy goodies Aulia was keeping secret from the rest of humanity. And…

“Mass Bestowal is automatic!? I thought the other S’s just took it because Aulia did! We don’t get to pick? What kind of damaged class is this?”

He was having a mini heart attack sitting on the edge of his bed because this was his big S-rank skill, and he was trying to make a bold step forward in his life here and make choices, and there were no choices.

“Are you laughing at me right now?” he asked the System. “You’re almost as bad as my real family!”

He poked the words Mass Bestowal (required), hoping they’d disappear. When he finally got around to looking away from the terrible crime that was his complete lack of a skill list, he felt silly.

“Oh. I get to choose something down here. Whew. I was panicking for nothing. Sorry, System. We’re still friends as long as it’s at least a C-rank.”

He prodded the option, and the skill list he’d been hoping for appeared.

Now let’s see what kinds of things Chainers can do that I don’t know about…these all look so boring. Debt this. Loan that.

Am I a magical banker now?

Wait, these are all S’s.

“Am I supposed to have two S-rank skills?”

He knew he wasn’t.

“I get a whole second S skill?”

When it sank in, he started to laugh. He felt delighted. And excited. Two S skills! Not one!

Lute Velra was a god! Maybe only a banker god, but he’d take whatever victories he could find at this point.

“Okay. Let’s study this.”

He had nothing to rely on but the words in front of him. There weren’t descriptions of Chainer skills for him to read on the internet. He wasn’t about to call any of the S-ranks in his family and ask them for tips.

Fortunately, the Chainer S-rank skill list seemed to be way more forthcoming than the ones he’d heard about. There weren’t that many skills—around thirty with a note at the bottom reassuring him that if he ever used them all up, the Palace of Unbreaking would design more especially for him!

Lute peered at it. That’s friendly of them, he decided. But how many lifetimes would it even take to get thirty S-rank skills?

Even more shockingly, the skills were listed in non-alphabetical order. Instead, they were sorted by their priority in the Palace of Unbreaking’s eyes. Number One on the list, a skill that accelerated a wordchain so that it would hit harder but last for a shorter duration, was the one that was most valuable to the Palace at the moment. He could expect more summonings if he took it.

The other classes would kill to have skills sorted this way. Ultrarares designed for specific jobs obviously have their perks.

He thought about Number One for a long time.

That’s an amazing skill, he decided. Worthy of S-rank for sure.

There were a dozen reasons to want a wordchain’s effect to be intenser, briefer, or both.

The main drawback seemed to be that the skill would have to be actively used the whole time the chain was being accelerated. Most wordchains lasted hours. Aulia’s Gloss lasted days. It was great if Lute was just going to be working for himself and on himself, but considering the fact that this skill was in high demand with his new employers…

This could be a skill that requires hours of work from me every day, couldn’t it? All of them could depending on what the Artonans do with us. But this is the number one most wanted.

He went down the list, reading whatever skill descriptions were offered carefully.

Some had notes about “ethical limitations” and when he asked the System for clarification, he actually got it. They were like Mass Bestowal—permission from target required.

Not that surprising. I knew they didn’t just ask to be polite. They have to do it.

The limit wasn’t placed on all the skills, but it was there on a significant number of them.

He made himself take his time and not jump ahead to look at a few skills he’d spotted on his initial skim. He had no idea what they did yet, but they had music-related names.

Most were about halfway down the list. One was just a couple away from the very bottom.

Aulia would probably lose her mind if she knew I was getting to pick another S skill. She would have wanted me to choose something in the top five so that I could make myself more useful for the Artonans and for her schemes. She’d have slapped the instructions to do it into the tattoo with all the rest of it.

He was looking forward to picking whatever he wanted and then repeatedly reminding her that she’d missed the chance to control an entire extra S-rank talent.

I wonder how many people even have access to this skill list?

On Earth it might just be Aulia. Maybe Aunt Hikari was hiding another max rank skill up her sleeve, too.

And then there were the Chainers from other worlds. They probably had a very similar list, right? But it still couldn’t be that many people. Especially if every S-equivalent Chainer on every planet got Mass Bestowal first.

Lute spent hours on the selection process.

The farther he went down the list, the more strange little notes started to appear out to the side of the skills:

[Ceremonial Use Only]

[Supervision Required]

[Created in Memory of our Brother Sess-nor]

Eventually, he decided he liked the third skill from the bottom. It had a musical name even if it didn’t do a musical thing. It seemed like the titling was more of an artistic nod to the fact that wordchains could sound quite musical or, if a couple of the other skill descriptions were anything to go by, be performed in time to music.

It’s a short description, but it sounds cool. It doesn’t have any special notes out to the side.

Being at the very bottom of the list meant the palace didn’t really want him to take it. It probably wouldn’t increase his work hours at all. It wouldn’t put him in a good position to rub shoulders with and become valuable to important Artonans.

He considered that a total benefit. A harpist needed time to play the harp.

Grandma would hate it.

He stood and stretched. “System, what do you think of this one?”

The System had no comment. It wasn’t a good sport about commenting on the skills at all.

“I like it,” Lute decided. “I want it.”

He jabbed it confidently.

Next my foundation points!

They were mostly selected for him.

“Are you serious? Even though I’m S?”

It wasn’t like they were bad stats. He had to dig down into sub menus and sub-sub menus and ask a few questions to see what it was the System would actually be doing for him. Vocal range. Linguistic processing. Pattern memorization. His ears were going to be amazing and his fingers were going to fly.

He’d known his relatives had those, and he’d assumed he would too. He’d just thought he’d have a few more points to spend than he did.

He stared at the Strength stat. And the Appeal stat. He kind of wanted to go under Stamina and whack up his Formation, but that was mostly because Haoyu had been talking about how great it was in class the other day.

“Can we talk about more customization? I don’t know which combo of points to pick to get the effect I want.”

They’d taught them in school just to ask when it came to things like this. The System knew what it was doing way better than you did, and while it could be really silent on talents, it didn’t usually mind having chats about the points.

******

******

“Don’t you two dare laugh at me,” Lute warned his roommates. “I took some Strength and Stamina!”

Alden and Haoyu exchanged looks.

“Why would we laugh about that?” Alden asked.

“Because…I didn’t take much. I spent almost all the free points I had on my hearing.”

Haoyu pointed at him. “You accused me of eavesdropping, but you’ve got super ears!”

“Cool,” said Alden. “Also, Haoyu, we didn’t accuse you of doing that. You were literally doing that. You confessed.”

“No, you guys,” Lute said. “It was already going to enhance me so that I could pick up and interpret sounds better. I asked it to give me more conscious control over it, so that I could not hear things if I didn’t want to. I basically asked it to give me the ability to hear worse than my new superhuman best.”

“Music thing?” Alden asked.

“I wanted to make sure I could still hear like I’d always been able to. It’s not like the System does a bad job when it boosts a sense. If I’m turned up all the way and I’m hearing the heartbeats and stomach noises of people sitting near me, I don’t usually get annoyed or distracted by them. But I was worried about it, and more than that, I was afraid of forgetting what my baseline was. Now I’ve got this mental notch that feels like Original Lute, and I can shift up and down from there by concentrating.”

“It’s not like it’s useless just because you did it so you could be human normal sometimes,” said Haoyu. “Can you selectively hear stuff? Can you make Alden’s stomach sound loud to you and make mine sound quiet?”

“Pretty well. I can focus to make one noise come to the foreground or recede into the background better than a normal person.”

“Then it’s awesome.” Haoyu smiled at him. “Like a mini Audial talent that you got through creative point use instead.”

“I need soundproofing for my room,” Alden muttered.

“Why?” Lute asked. “What secret things are you doing in there?”

“One of you thinks fifteen minutes of eavesdropping is not long and the other one can hear my heartbeat. I’ll probably find out Lexi can see through walls soon. A guy needs to feel alone from time to time.”

“So suspicious.”

“I have bouts of insomnia. I want to be able to make a racket in there at three AM without feeling guilty for waking all of you up.”

“It’s three AM now.” Haoyu’s hand was in the air as he shifted something on his interface. “Lexi’s going to call us idiots again.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday. We’ll catch up on sleep then,” said Alden. “So, Lute has a mystery skill that even his own family doesn’t know about, ears he can dial up and down like a radio control, great hands, processing so that he can memorize wordchains faster, and Mass Bestowal…which bestows wordchains.”

“It does do that,” Lute said dryly.

“How does it work?” Haoyu asked.

“Ass tatt,” Alden said before Lute could open his mouth.

“Oh you already asked?”

“I wanted to know if he could bank chain halves for later. He can. Or the skill does something similar enough to that. He doesn’t actually have to cast one that very second to pass it to you.”

“Just talk amongst yourselves,” said Lute. “I can’t tell you exactly how Mass Bestowal works. But you’ve seen the effects of it so it’s not like it’s that big a secret.”

******

******

“Aren’t I supposed to get access to some special wordchains?” Lute asked the System. “Does that not happen now?”

He wouldn’t be getting spell impressions. There was an option for choosing a wordchain impression instead of points, but he didn’t see any reason to do that. It seemed like something you’d only want if you were prone to screwing up some particularly difficult and important chain.

But beyond the impressions, all of his Chainer family members—even the C’s—seemed to have a chain or two that was their special thing. His grandmother had quite a few.

Maybe I pick those later?

He’d bumped Strength and Stamina. It was a difficult decision. He wanted to see what would happen if he boosted Appeal instead, but he was already having enough trouble wrapping his brain around the halo effect his new rank was giving him. People at school, especially the upperclassmen, were suddenly much more interested in him.

He didn’t want to be friends with people who liked Lute the S-rank when they hadn’t cared about Lute the Human Being. And the fact that he was going to have to navigate that for the rest of his life was freaking him out a little.

Zero tolerance for suck-ups and rankists. The same as always. They’re just a lot harder to identify now, and I need to learn how to find them in a crowd.

He’d taken points for his signing bonus, so that was all done. And there was a note saying he’d be getting “Gifts of Joyous Welcome!” from his new…bosses? That could include the wordchains?

Lute was enjoying all these personal notes from the Palace of Unbreaking people. It wasn’t what he’d expected, and it was making him feel like he was the newest member of a club. A peculiar club for sure, but the notes were giving off an impression of reason and companionableness. These Artonans created skills in memory of former colleagues and helpfully told their Avowed which talents were on their wishlist.

It made everything that was happening seem a little less insane.

They have at least one building that looks like a conference center on the inside. Conference centers are safe. So how weird could they possibly be?

He checked the time. He’d been at it all day and for most of the night except for a nap and snack breaks. It was almost 5:00 AM. He could affix then go to school. Or skip and figure out how his new powers worked.

“Let’s do it, System,” said Lute, standing beside his bed. “Let’s make me magical. Finalize affixation.”

He’d find some way to make Mass Bestowal look like magic. Throwing fistfuls of glitter at people when he did it might be satisfying.

Ha! Didn’t think to ban that with the family tattoo, did you, Grandma? Think of how ridiculous I’m going to make the Velras look when—

******

The boy recognized the tall golden concert hall before he recognized himself.

The audience was full but silent. The orchestra at the front of room hadn’t begun to play.

This is the Musikverein, thought Lute. In Vienna.

He was standing in an aisle, and there was only one empty seat in the whole place. It was a couple of steps away.

Lute knew it was for him, but he still hesitated. The paintings of Apollo and the Muses on the ceiling looked down on him. The golden caryatids holding up the balcony level watched him mutely.

When he finally moved, a violin released the first haunting notes of a song.

A white humanoid doll sat in the neighboring chair. Its oval hands were folded in its lap.

“Good,” it said, when Lute took his seat. “That’s the desired response. Hello, Lute. Your affixation is underway, and everything is progressing normally. Do you have questions?”

“Not really,” said Lute, gazing at the orchestra. “I know what’s happening.”

“Then I’ll leave you to enjoy the show.”

*