Jace didn’t think he was going to be nervous for a uniform fitting, of all things, but somehow, he found himself dreading it. Standing around and getting himself measured? After a fight, he wasn’t sure if he could just stand still for that long.

  But he’d done everything in his power to get ready. Mainly, taking a shower in the Wrath’s small washroom, changing into a clean shirt, and brushing his hair. Wasn’t sure if the last one was necessary, but it had started to get a little long, and soon, he was going to need a ponytail for it.

  C’mon, Jace, he told himself. No need to worry. You’re just getting fancy clothes.

  Just fancy clothes. He’d never had nice clothes before. Most was a button-up tunic that Mom made him wear for house parties, but those were few and far between. Especially after she’d passed.

  Well, that better not be why he was dreading it…this wasn’t anything like that.

  Try telling his brain that, though.

  “I thought you were going to at least try out the new vault core,” Lessa remarked as they returned to the cockpit on Kinfild’s warning—he announced that they were getting close to Kinath-Aertes. Lessa, now without her augmentations, sat in the radioman’s chair, and Jace took the copilot’s seat. Ash and Perril sat down on the couches in the crew quarters.

  “I figured I’d save it until after the fitting,” Jace replied. “A bit of a reward to convince myself to get through the fitting.”

  “What, you don’t want new clothes?”

  Jace sighed. “I’ve dwelled on this too long, now, haven’t I?”

  “Probably. Maybe it was for the best that I wasn’t watching you while you slept—I mean, meditated.”

  “You knew that would sound insane, didn’t you?”

  “I knew it would get you to react exactly like you did.”

  Jace pulled on his crash harness. “It was that easy?”

  “Mhm.”

  “Lessa, is your crash harness on?” Kinfild asked—but in a prompting tone, like he knew it wasn’t.

  “No…” She reached for the crash harness and pulled it over her shoulder, then buckled it in and tightened it.

  The Wrath shot out of hyperspace a moment later. Kinfild adjusted the engine telesignal, and the sublight thrusters surged. They shot toward the surface of Kinath-Aertes, and a city in the sunrise zone.

  Jace hadn’t realized how large the capital city was up close, and since Kinath-Aertes wasn’t a city-planet yet, it still wasn’t as bright as some of the other worlds he’d seen (notably, Roteac), but there were still massive rings of light on the planet’s surface, illuminating monorail tracks and enormous land-shipping lanes through the swathes of untamed land—mountains, red-leaved forests, and a few equatorial deserts.

  By the time they’d descended to the surface, the sun had completely risen over Galactic City—that was the name of the sprawling central hub of Kinath-Aertes—and the city was coming to life. Lanes of repeller-cars shot through the air, and starships flew between them. Exhaust smoke chuffed into the air, forming a haze over the city, but the towers of the distant downtown pierced through it.

  “You’re all ready?” Kinfild confirmed. “We’re cutting it close.”

  “I’m all set,” Jace replied.

  “Me too,” Lessa added.

  “Lady Fairynor should be there!” Ash called from the crew quarters. “She hopes to explain the arrangements she’s made as her tailor works. She’ll be early, as she always is, and she does usually expect her guests to follow suit!”

  “We’ll be on time,” Kinfild replied. He wrenched the control yoke to the side, steering the Wrath out of a traffic lane and out over a business district. “That’s the best I can offer.”

  They crossed the business district, flying closer and closer to the distant parliament hall. The closer they got, the fancier the building below became—more ornate marble, more wooden facades, brighter holographic signs gilt with golden ornaments, and more potted plants on the walkways.

  There were still layers upon layers of city levels below them, organized into neat, stacked grids and joined by a mess of walkways and elevators. They passed a circular monorail station, then circled down above a cluster of nearby coffee houses with private landing platforms.

  On the very far side of the platform, directly ahead of them, was the tailor shop. It had a dark green facade, and a tower of stacked apartments above, which culminated in a curved roof.

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  Kinfild set the Wrath down, then lowered the boarding ramp. Jace and Lessa jumped up, then ran to the ramp and activated it. Ash followed close behind, and it was for the best, because immediately, a pair of yellow-armoured parliament guards sprinted over, their plasma rifles clattering as they jogged.

  “It’s alright!” Ash called, pushing ahead. “We’re here to see Lady Fairynor.”

  Both the guards, clearly recognizing Ash, stepped aside. They regarded Jace and Lessa suspiciously (at least, as best as Jace could tell with their heavy visors covering their faces), but they still let them pass.

  “I’ll keep the starship running!” Kinfild called. “You guys keep going!”

  “I’ll be with him,” Perril added. “No need to deal with Ms. Stuck-Up Princess anymore than I have to.”

  In Jace’s memories, Lady Fairynor hadn’t been that bad, but maybe Perril saw it differently. He wasn’t in the mood to argue—nor did they have time.

  He, Lessa, and Ash pushed open the tailor’s glass doors and stumbled inside, panting for breath. Lady Fairynor waited for them inside, wearing her standard emerald dress. She held a folded up parasol, which she leaned on more like a soldier might stand with a sword. “You’re on time,” she said with disdain.

  “Sorry, my lady,” Ash replied. “We…uh, we got a little lost on the way over.”

  Distracted, more like, Jace thought, but he didn’t say that.

  “No matter, I’m sure that Kinfild is to blame.” She shook her head, then beckoned them over with a wave of her hand. She turned on her heels, moving primly through the store.

  The entire tailor shop smelled old. Dust, faintly like mould, and a little bit of cinnamon. Rows upon rows of suits, robes, dresses, and other garments floated, suspended by hidden repellers, and holographic mannequins were projected below, simulating poses and pretending to wear the clothes.

  Excessive, but then again, Jace doubted the store was lacking for customers.

  Lady Fairynor led them to a back room. Its walls were clad entirely in varnished wood, except for the front wall, which held a mirror. Jace winced when he realized the floor was a matted carpet—he was tracking mud across it—and he pulled off his boots.

  The room was still large enough for them all, however, and they all funneled inside. A tailor in a simple black robe awaited, holding rolls of measuring tape around his shoulder, and a tape measurer in his hand. “Welcome, guests,” he said. “Attendants’ Strands Tailors are happy to serve you.”

  “Please,” Lady Fairynor instructed. “We don’t have much time. Proceed with the planned order, if you will, and put it on my bill.”

  “As you wish, my lady,” the tailor dipped his head. “Please, for the two candidates—arms out to the side, and be as still as possible. This will only take a moment, and then you can be on your way.” He said the last words with an air of disdain, all while looking at the mud Jace had tracked into the store. A cleaner kyborg with a broom trundled along through the store, sweeping up Jace’s trail.

  “I’ll have you two in your uniforms in no time,” Lady Fairynor said. “Normally, we wouldn’t do it this way—we would get you fitted at a tailor from the Sevencore system—but we are running slightly behind schedule, and the Attendants’ Strands can make a replica of their uniforms any day. We will claim, however, that it came from within the sevencore system. Understood?”

  “Understood,” Jace and Lessa confirmed.

  “Remember: your job at the academy is to spend a semester gaining as much power as you can. You will be with other first years around the same age as you, so do not fret. But these students will have been practicing their abilities from birth, and they will be very skilled—not to mention…ambitious.” Lady Fairynor shook her head. “These are the elitest of the elite. These are children from the strongest core system families. They have no allegiance to any nation, but they will always seek to rise to the top.”

  “Is it just…knowledge?” Jace asked. “Is that what we’re looking for at the Academy?”

  “Not just knowledge, Mr. Baldwin,” Lady Fairynor said. “The Academy holds a stranglehold on many of the advancement resources in the core. If you do well, you will receive stronger elixirs and pills, refined by their best craftsmen, which you will use to enhance yourself further. You will also receive credits, which you may use to buy equipment.” As she said that, she looked right at Lessa.

  “How…do they determine the rankings?” Lessa asked. “Is it grades? Because, I’m just gonna tell you now, I’m really not good at multiple choice exams. Like, really not good.”

  As they spoke, the tailor scurried around, making measurements around Jace and Lessa’s shoulders and hips. Jace flinched a few times, but he held as still as he could.

  “They will host a tournament,” Lady Fairynor said. “Every week, you will face another of your classmates. Your ranking in the tournament will determine how much you receive from the academy, but as well, your placement exam and performance will determine how much external resources you receive. The guilds will also be vying for your allegiance, and they will be courting you by offering resources—the same elixirs and pills that the academy will give you. Succeed, and you will keep succeeding. Fall behind, and you will get left behind.”

  Jace asked, “What will the entrance exam be like?”

  “You’ll find out more when we arrive. However, I have made the arrangements pretending to be a private, newly wealthy family from the industrial worlds of the Starrealm. Thus, you will be anonymous. Hide your abilities, but also what you are. You are not a Worldjumper, and you are not a Worldjumper’s friend.”

  Jace and Lessa both nodded.

  “And, Ash, there is one more thing,” Lady Fairynor said. “Have you considered…your lineage any more?”

  Jace and Lessa both glanced at the tailor. He said nothing, and frankly, he’d probably heard many more important conversations. Clearly, Lady Fairynor trusted him not to go spreading the word.

  “I haven’t,” Ash said.

  “I’m concerned. My father is hiding it well, but his health is failing. The Realm needs a king, not an attendant.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Ash said noncommittally, then backed away.

  “Do. All three of you, consider your place in all this.” Lady Fairynor narrowed her eyes and looked on with intensity. “I sense the end coming, and soon, everything we know will unravel. We must be ready.”