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uniforms that emphasized them: the ones with arm scars were sleeveless, one with a scar across her stomach wore an open tunic that exposed it, and another had painted her false leg a brilliant red, broadcasting how dangerous this life was. Not very subtle, Daleina thought, and looked instead at the other girls again. One with gleaming black hair and a brittle smilestood out. She was at the center of the pack, and every time she spoke, the others rotated to listen to her, as if she were the sun and they were in orbit. Briefly, as if she felt Daleina looking at her, the black-haired girl met her eyes. Daleina tried a smile, but the girl focused instead on another applicant and laughed at words that Daleina couldn’t hear.
    High up in the trees, a bell rang. Several birds startled from the branches and fled upward, breaking the canopy above the academy. Daleina wondered what the academy looked like inside—it was supposed to be breathtakingly beautiful, as lovely as the palace itself. If she passed, she’d see it for herself before the end of the day. If not, she’d never know.
    A woman walked out from a gap in the wall of trees. She wore a black gown edged with dark-green lace. Her white-gray hair was knotted on top of her head. She had no visible scars, but her dress fell to her ankles and the sleeves covered her hands. She carried a slim, unsheathed knife with a jeweled handle. “Applicants, I am Headmistress Hanna. Welcome to the entrance examination for Northeast Academy.”
    Daleina straightened. This was the headmistress! The woman who had trained Queen Fara before she was chosen. The woman who had predicted and survived the Massacre of the Oaks. The woman who had presided over three coronation ceremonies and witnessed the deaths of two queens. She’d had songs written about her. Daleina wondered if it was wonderful or tedious to listen to songs about yourself.
    I suppose it depends on how well they’re sung .
    Pacing in front of the girls, the headmistress studied each of them in turn. Daleina told herself not to flinch as Headmistress Hanna’s eyes landed on her, then passed on. “You are here to begin on the path to a glorious destiny, but not all of you will walk that path. Be full of courage, full of strength, full of cleverness, and full of compassion, and you will thrive.”
    Daleina let the words roll over her and fill her. She would be fearless! She would be strong! She wouldn’t fail! And yet even as she thought that, she couldn’t help but hope her mother didn’t embroider the headmistress’s words on a pillow. Mama liked toembroider, especially after she finished a difficult whittling job. Their house was filled with platitudes, embellished with tiny roses and stars. Words comforted her, she said, when wood failed to.
    Headmistress Hanna was still talking. Pay attention, Daleina scolded herself. She shot another look at her parents and sister. Part of her wished she were still home in bed, surrounded by Mama’s embroidered pillows. “. . . begin your path, you must find your path,” Headmistress Hanna was saying. “Your exam is simple: find your way through the maze.” As the onlookers gasped, the headmistress plunged her blade into the nearest tree. It sank in, and sap oozed. Above, an unseen spirit shrieked, and a crack spread below and above the knife blade.
    With an echoing snap, the tree split apart, and the crack yawned open. The knife clattered to the ground at the base of the gap. Whispering to one another, the girls clustered together and inched forward.
    The gap was only wide enough to fit one at a time, and through it was darkness. Daleina looked up. She couldn’t see beyond the thick weave of branches to tell what was on the other side of the gap: open sunlight or suffocating shadows, towering trees or a snarl of brambles.
    â€œWho will enter first?” Headmistress Hanna asked.
    Daleina squared her