"Malargos," Gavin said. "You're Ruthgari, right?"

"Yes, Lord Prism."

Gavin looked at her flatly. "When your own Blessed Satrap Rados crossed the Great River to fight the Blood Foresters who outnumbered him two to one, do you remember what he did?"

"He burned Rozanos Bridge behind his army," she said.

"Was that that cheating?" cheating?"

"I-I don't follow," she said.

"He burned the bridge so his men knew they couldn't flee. He gave them no way out. Every last man knew he had to win or die. It's where we get the expression 'burning your bridges behind you.' "

"But I saw him reaching for the rope," she complained weakly. She swallowed, suddenly unnerved to have contradicted the Prism to his face.

"And you gave it back to him."

"Of course."

"So you would have built a new bridge behind Blessed Satrap Rados?"

"Of course not, that would be..."

"And doomed him. How long did you last before you pulled the rope?" Gavin asked.

She flushed and looked away. "Seventeen seconds." She pulled her robe tighter around herself, finally covering up.

"And you destroyed a young man's chance at passing."

"We could retest-" she started.

"You know we can't. Once supplicants know it's not real, the Thresher doesn't work. Everyone would say it was because he got special favor for being my nephew-"

"I didn't mean-"

"And you know it!" Gavin said, only keeping his voice down with effort.

"It doesn't matter what you meant meant," Mistress Varidos hissed.

While the mistress was speaking, Gavin split some superviolet from the light of the torches. Just a little. The beauty of superviolet was its invisibility. Even though there were at least half a dozen people in this room who could see superviolet luxin if they tightened their eyes, Gavin was betting that none of them was tightening her eyes at this very moment. And even if someone was, what Gavin was about to do was so small and so quick that even someone looking might miss it. Magical sleight of hand. The superviolet settled into his fingertips.

"You broke the rules, Tisis," the mistress said. "You botched your duties, and you may have destroyed a young man's future."

"But nobody passes passes!" the young woman protested. It had become a mark of pride just to hold on for a long time. Conspiracies, the dark, tight spaces, heights, spiders, snakes, rats-the Thresher hit all of the most common fears. Usually, believing that failure would mean the loss of everything and with their eyes dilated from fear, the applicant drafted any and all colors before they pulled the rope. It wasn't perfect, of course, but it was the best test they had.

"Get out of my sight," Gavin said.

She went, huffing, furious, crossing between Gavin and the mistress, just as Gavin had planned. He pulled a stone from his pocket, holding the short rod behind his wrist, slid the samite off the hole, flicked invisible superviolet out of his fingertips and used it to snatch the testing stone out of its grooves. He snapped the luxin back to his wrist, binding the testing stone to his forearm with bands of superviolet, and with the last of the superviolet in his finger dropped the false testing stone into place.

It had all taken less than a second, and Gavin hadn't so much as leaned over. "Well, let's see what we have, shall we?" he said, still drawing the rich samite cloth away from the hole.

In full view of Mistress Varidos, Gavin set the samite aside and reached into the receptacle, leaning over, grabbing the testing stone, and pulling it out. The testing stone was an ivory bar-either from sea demon washed ashore or from elephants deep within Ruthgar-tipped on each end with obsidian. The ivory was precious, but the obsidian was the real wonder. No one knew where the obsidian extant in the world had been harvested, or mined, or made. Obsidian was rarer than diamonds or rubies, so after every testing the obsidian ends of each testing stone were removed to be reused.

The superstitious called it hellstone. Most drafters were just happy that it was rare, because it was the only stone that could draw luxin directly out of a drafter. Gavin had heard that in the ancient world kings and satraps-and in more mythic tales, the assassins of the Broken Eye-had created entire daggers or even swords of obsidian. But obsidian only evinced its magical properties when two very special conditions were met. First, it had to be in near-total darkness: that is, a total lack of light in the visible spectrum-for some reason superviolet and sub-red didn't interfere with it. Second, it needed the drafter's blood, an open cut at that. There had to be a direct physical connection between the obsidian and the luxin for the luxin to be drawn out of the drafter. When that connection was made, however, the pull was quite strong. Cut a drafter's shoulder with obsidian while he was holding luxin in his hand and hold the stone against the cut, and within maybe ten seconds the luxin would be gone. Scholars speculated that was because drafters had luxin throughout their bodies at all times, so the connection was direct, even if it was distant within the body.

Because the rates at which obsidian pulled colors out of a person were different for the different kinds of luxin, they made nice lines as they were pulled out of the body and into the ivory. If a color formed and stayed and was thick enough, the supplicant was deemed worthy of receiving training in that color. If there were two colors, of course, the supplicant was deemed a bichrome, and more than two made them a polychrome.

Gavin took the testing stone. He caught a faint whiff of cloves that was the scent of superviolet luxin. He held it for just a moment, willing the scent to disperse, and handed the stone to Mistress Varidos. As the head tester, it was her place to declare the findings. As he did, everyone else gathered around. She carefully removed the obsidian tips and stowed them in a special box, and then held the testing stone over her head. There was a clear, thick green bar, peaking toward the blue side, and next to it a less full blue. Yellow was faint. There was a tiny bit in the superviolet. It was a classic bell, the most common pattern in drafters.

The mistress said, "I hereby declare Kip of Rekton gifted of Orholam in the colors green and blue, with superviolet undecided and to be tested further at a later date. Kip, congratulations, you're a bichrome."

A cheer went up.

Only Kip still looked confused.

Gavin walked around the table, put an arm around Kip's shoulder, and squeezed. "Well done, Kip."

Kip was limp in Gavin's embrace. "So I passed?" he asked quietly.

"You passed. You made me proud."

Another cheer went up, and within no time, wine and brandy and special cakes and fruits and meats and sweetmeats were being produced by slaves who flooded the chamber.

Gavin released the boy, who was looking at him like he was utterly befuddled, like he couldn't believe the words Gavin had just said. Some of that, too, was the magic. The emotional effects of every part of the spectrum had just passed through Kip for the very first time. He didn't know yet what to do with the residue. It took time. Gavin gestured toward the door, beckoning Aliviana.

"Kip," Gavin said. "I've brought you someone special. A surprise for you. She'll be your mentor. She'll explain how things work and teach you some of the basics until we leave. Kip, may I present-"

"Liv?!" Kip said as the girl stepped out from behind Gavin.

"Kip!"

"Why don't you go ahead and take him up to his room, Liv," Gavin said. "And remember what I said."

Kip was still in a daze, so Liv took his hand and turned to lead him toward the main door. There would be a crowd there, no doubt. No need for Kip to think anything was out of the usual.

"Why don't you go the back way?" Gavin said. He turned and flung superviolet at the opposite wall. A section of the wall popped open on previously hidden hinges.

Liv took Kip out the back door.

Commander Ironfist and Luxlord Black came in the front door.

"Luxlord, Mistress, Commander, Magisters," Gavin said, waving a friendly hand to show he was simply too busy just now to speak with Ironfist or Luxlord Black. He walked toward the back door himself. He needed to get Kip now. He should have commanded the boy to wait outside the room instead of sending him upstairs.

Gavin stepped through the back door, already composing the letter he would leave for the White, and almost ran over a dark, demure little man in a slave's robe. He recognized the man and his heart dropped.

"Greetings, Lord Prism," the little man said, his headscarf so starched it barely moved as he bobbed his head. He'd been a Parian legalist before being captured by Ilytian pirates, enslaved, and eventually sold to Andross Guile. Brilliant and discreet, he'd been Andross Guile's right hand for twenty years. "Your father tires of your delays. He demands you come to his chambers immediately."

With Andross Guile, "immediately" meant yesterday. Gavin cringed inside, popped his neck right and left, and said, "Take me to him."

Chapter 46

Kip followed Liv Danavis through a narrow hall and then out to a lift. His head was still awhirl and his emotions were a riot that seemed not completely internal, as if somehow, additional emotions were being pressed onto him. It felt alien. Maybe it was just seeing Liv. He'd known she was at the Chromeria, and he'd hoped to see her ever since he'd known he was coming here, but actually seeing her was different.

Master Danavis had shared many of Liv's letters with Kip, so in some ways it didn't feel like it had been two full years, but she'd been fifteen then. He'd been thirteen. Apparently, he'd grown since then, because he was finally taller than she was. Of course, he was still also about three times wider than she was. If anything, she was even more beautiful than she had been.

As she led him through a hall and finally to a lift, she didn't say anything. Kip was glad for the silence. He didn't think he could have found his tongue. An odd, quiet joy and peace settled over him at seeing her. He remembered when she was fourteen years old and the rumor had run around town that she was going to be betrothed to Ged, the alcaldesa's son. Shortly thereafter, she'd left for the Chromeria. Kip had been relieved. She'd seemed too good for little Rekton. But though he was sure she hadn't thought of him since, he'd missed her. She had been like the sun passing overhead, and he'd turned his face as she passed, warmed by her presence, but never daring to hope for more. When Master Danavis had shared that Liv was having a hard time with some girl at the Chromeria, Kip had wanted to leave immediately and kill the offender, then come home.

Seeing her wavy hair swish and bounce around her shoulders as she led him was like standing in the sunlight again after a long winter. Kip didn't want words. Once he opened his big mouth, he'd surely spoil everything. He just watched her walk, hiking up his own pants gracelessly as she strode ahead, purposefully, at home, at ease, in command of her environment.

"I think I'm lost," Liv said. She looked to each side, down halls that looked exactly the same. She bit her lip.

Eyes locked on that full, slightly moist lip, Kip gulped.

"Kip?" she said. "No, never mind, of course you wouldn't."

She headed off again, and Kip followed. Liv had turned into a woman in the time she'd been away. She was as slender as he was fat. Her eyes large lucid brown, her skin smooth and clear where his was cursed with pimples around his neck and jaw as his beard was only just coming in. Thank Orholam, at least her chest was bigger than his.

Kip barely glanced there, though, and now as he followed her, he barely looked at her body. Her skirt did swoosh back and forth in a most pleasing manner as she walked, revealing slim, well-turned calves. But aside from a glance or two, or maybe three-Kip glanced again. Ah! Four. Aside from that, he didn't look at her the way he'd look at some other beautiful woman. It just didn't seem respectful.

Oops, five.

She stopped when they got into the lift. "I just realized," she said, laughing at herself, "that I have no idea where I'm supposed to take you. Uh, tell you what. You can come to my room until I get this figured out. If you're like I was after the Threshing, you'll probably need to go straight to bed. Right?"

Kip wasn't sure how he hadn't noticed before, but he was was tired. He felt as if someone had taken the bottle of his energy and shaken it all out. He nodded his head. tired. He felt as if someone had taken the bottle of his energy and shaken it all out. He nodded his head.

"Don't feel like talking?" she asked, giving him a little grin. It was the kind of grin you gave a little child who'd missed nap time and was fighting to stay up to get dessert. But Kip couldn't even summon the passion to despair at seeing that indulgent grin on her.

I'm cute to her. Cute Cute. Ugh.

She set the counterweights on the lift, paused for a moment-she must have been surprised how much weight she needed to add to account for Kip-and added more. In moments, they were speeding up the tower, passing other students going both up and down. They stopped and stepped into a wide lobby area that dimpled out to one of the clear tubes that connected the central tower to all the others.

Kip looked at Liv, eyebrows up.

"My apartments are over in yellow. Yellow's in the middle of the spectrum, so bichromes and polychromes include yellow more often than other colors, so the yellow tower has more bichrome apartments. They don't have the space for those in the Prism's Tower. Are you afraid of heights?"

"Not usually usually," Kip said uneasily.

"Oh, so you can talk!"

"I can fall too," he mumbled.

"You'll be fine, I promise," she said. She walked out into the tube. It was four paces across and enclosed with blue luxin so thin it was almost clear. The bottom of the walkway was thicker blue reinforced with thin bars of yellow. It looked impossibly thin. As Kip had seen from far, far below, the walkway attached to the Prism's Tower only at two places: on the east side and here, on the west. After going straight out about halfway to the green tower that was directly west of the Prism's Tower, this walkway met a great almost clear luxin circular walkway. From that circle, there were spokes out to each of the six towers.

Liv led Kip out to one of those intersections between circle and spokes, the point farthest from any support. She jumped up and down. "See, totally safe." She laughed. "Now you try it."

"I don't know," Kip said. If he could ever overcome his fear, the view from up here was magnificent. Of course, it was hard to look at mere magic towers when he had Liv right here. "Okay," he said weakly. He didn't want to let her down.

Of course, if I break this spindly walkway, I'll be letting us both down. The quick way.

Trying to be a good sport, Kip hopped a little, landing as lightly as possible on his toes and absorbing all the shock in his knees.

"Oh, seriously," Liv said.

Kip sighed and jumped so high he thought he was going to touch his head on the canopy. As he landed, he heard a loud crack.

He threw his hands out looking for something to grab, his heart seizing up. He was about to throw himself at the handrail when he saw Liv's face.

She laughed and covered her mouth. "I am so so sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have. It's kind of a tradition for new students, and the Prism wanted me to give you the whole experience." Kip looked at her hands. They seemed to be clenched around something invisible. He tightened his eyes, and sure enough, she had a bar of superviolet luxin snapped in her hands. sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have. It's kind of a tradition for new students, and the Prism wanted me to give you the whole experience." Kip looked at her hands. They seemed to be clenched around something invisible. He tightened his eyes, and sure enough, she had a bar of superviolet luxin snapped in her hands.

Kip chuckled. It only sounded a little forced. "Give me the traditional mop, would you? I think I left a traditional puddle."

She laughed. "Thanks for being a good sport. If it makes you feel better, I almost fainted when my magister did it with our whole class. Come on, it's just a little farther now."

They walked together around the spindly circle, then turned toward the yellow tower. The yellow tower had been at the back right when Kip had entered the Great Yard, so he hadn't really seen it. Now it loomed both above and below.

"I think my eyes are full," Kip said.

"What?"

"I've seen too many amazing things today. Either this is just not as impressive, or I've lost my ability to be amazed, because to me, this looks like a plain yellow tower. No flames, no jewels, no twisty movement." The tower was luminous, but otherwise it looked like cloudy yellow glass, translucent, but not transparent. Maybe it was hard to see because the sun was going down beside the tower.

Liv smiled. He didn't know how he'd forgotten her dimples. "The yellow is amazing because it's made entirely of yellow luxin."

"And the others aren't," Kip said, not understanding. He blinked. "I mean, they're not made of their own colored luxin?"

"No, no, no. The others have magical facades built over traditional building materials. The yellow is made entirely of yellow."

From his admittedly brief instruction with the Prism, Kip thought that yellow was used like magical lanolin or something-it nourished other luxin, but otherwise degraded back into light easily. "Uh, I thought yellow was kind of a bad choice for a building material, being unstable and all." Kip was just remembering why he had been keeping his mouth shut. The more he talked with Liv, the more natural it would be for him to talk about home. And the more unnatural unnatural for him not to say anything about home. The moment they went there, he was going to have to tell Liv her father was dead, and the pleasant ease of being in her company would be shattered. She would go from this bright, glowing, dimpled young woman to a bereaved orphan. for him not to say anything about home. The moment they went there, he was going to have to tell Liv her father was dead, and the pleasant ease of being in her company would be shattered. She would go from this bright, glowing, dimpled young woman to a bereaved orphan.

"It is is a bad choice," Liv said. "That's why this is so amazing." She pulled him toward the tower's entrance. Suddenly Kip didn't know if he wanted to leave the solidity of the blue-yellow spindles. a bad choice," Liv said. "That's why this is so amazing." She pulled him toward the tower's entrance. Suddenly Kip didn't know if he wanted to leave the solidity of the blue-yellow spindles.

Sure, a minute ago, I was worried to step out on these, and now I don't want to leave.

"Yellow is usually the least stable luxin. It shimmers right back into light at the least movement, like water boiling away in a moment. That's why they call it brightwater. But do you remember when that harper played a few years ago back in Rekton, and he stopped between every song to retune his harp?"

Kip nodded. "It didn't seem to make any difference to me." Dangerous ground, talking about anything back home, but if he could keep her talking until he collapsed from exhaustion, he might avoid telling her the news for one more day.

Liv said, "The thing was, he he could tell when his harp was even a fraction out of tune. No one else could, though. There are people who can do that with light. To make luxin of any color, you have to hit the right note within the color or the luxin won't form. If you are only approximately on pitch, the luxin is much more likely to fail. You can cover some mistakes with more will, but you need someone really special to do work like this." could tell when his harp was even a fraction out of tune. No one else could, though. There are people who can do that with light. To make luxin of any color, you have to hit the right note within the color or the luxin won't form. If you are only approximately on pitch, the luxin is much more likely to fail. You can cover some mistakes with more will, but you need someone really special to do work like this."

"Does this have something to do with superchromats?" Kip asked. He felt like he was finally starting to put together some pieces.