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He gave me another of those polished smiles before moving on, leaving me standing there with my wrist tingling and my stomach unsettled.

Across the courtyard, Kaelen was watching from the head of the Fenhall line. His face had gone pale, and both of his hands were clenched tightly at his sides.

The Proving began the next morning in the Pit.

My part was supposed to be straightforward. I would walk into the Pit alone, stand there while twelve Council envoys examined the registered Hollow, and then leave with whatever ruling they intended to make.

Mr. Aske had been unequivocal on one point.

Hollows were not matched.

I had never seen the Pit so crowded. Every tier was packed. Students sat shoulder to shoulder, filled the aisles, and leaned over the upper walls wherever there was room.

During the night, a viewing box had been constructed over the south side of the ring and draped in black cloth. The envoys sat inside it in a neat row. The three gray-clad Wardens were there, along with the silver-haired man who had to be Delphine's father. Aldric Vance occupied the center seat, one elegant leg crossed over the other.

Oda sat slightly apart from the rest, small and gray and completely still.

High in the gallery above the north wall, a man in a dark, high-collared coat sat alone, writing steadily in a small leather book.

Instructor Varga ran the lists. His left arm was strapped into a black sling, but his grin was as broad as ever.

He was a Council appointment, just like Master Crewe and Mr. Aske. After what had happened in the Pit, Tamsin had bitterly explained that Oda couldn't dismiss him without the Council's permission.

The Council had declined to give it.

The first-year shifters went first. One after another, they were sent into the ring against senior students.

The matches were fast, vicious, and extremely loud. Wolves rolled through the sand. Lynxes screamed. At one point a heron beat a badger repeatedly over the head with its wings until the badger finally yielded, apparently more humiliated than injured.

Tamsin, to her enormous satisfaction, pinned a Fenhall senior in about forty seconds by biting him.

Fenhall booed.

Almost everyone else cheered.

Jax fought in one of the senior bouts against a large Bramblegate wolverine and made the entire thing look effortless. He moved with his usual loose confidence, apparently having forgotten that his ribs had ever been broken, and when he finally put the wolverine face-down in the sand, he shifted back to human form and turned toward the envoys' box.

Completely naked, he gave them an elaborate bow.

Several envoys looked horrified.

Aldric Vance laughed and applauded.

As Jax left the ring, he looked up toward the benches and winked at me. I rolled my eyes, which only seemed to please him more.

Silas fought with far less enthusiasm.

They matched him against a young Fenhall wolf who spent most of the bout darting in and trying to bite him. Silas simply waited. He let the wolf circle him, feint, retreat, and rush him again until the younger shifter finally overcommitted.

Then Silas put one enormous paw across his back and held him there.

He did not injure him. He did not even appear angry. He simply kept the wolf pinned until he yielded.

Silas shifted back, dressed, and left without saying anything.

As he passed beneath the benches, he looked up at me once.

Under my sleeve, the silver thread around my wrist became warm.