The feast! I had forgotten. Again. "What should I..." I stopped, feeling awkward and silly to be asking about clothing.

Bain smiled in sympathy. "No expertise in that matter," he said, seeming to read my mind. "Zitora will enjoy helping you. She's at loose ends this year and will welcome some company."

"I thought she was busy with Council business."

"She is, but she's transitioning from five years of being a student to being on her own. Having no time to be a mentor doesn't mean she won't have time to make a friend."

I left Bain's tower and headed toward Zitora's in the northeast corner of the Keep. Lively groups filled the campus walkways and people hurried past me in every direction. My quiet walks through the Keep were at an end, yet I felt energized by all the activity.

Zitora greeted me with a bright smile that only dimmed when we discussed Tula's condition. Talk eventually turned to the upcoming festivities, and I inquired about appropriate dress.

"The formal robes are only for the boring school functions," Zitora said. "Do tell me you have something pretty to wear."

When I shook my head, she transformed into a mother hen and set about finding me some clothes.

"Thank fate you're my size," Zitora said with glee.

Despite my protests, she dragged me up two flights to her bedroom and loaded my arms with dresses, skirts and lacy blouses. Zitora propped her hands on her hips, considering my boots. "Those will not do."

"They're comfortable and I can move easily in them," I said.

"A challenge then. Mmm. I'll be right back."

She disappeared into another room, while I waited in her bedroom on the third floor of her tower. Soft pastel paintings of flowers hung on the walls. Oversize pillows graced her canopy bed. The room oozed comfort like open arms wrapping me in a hug.

With a triumphant shout, Zitora sauntered into the room, a pair of black sandals raised high for admiration.

"Rubber soles, soft leather and a small heel. Perfect for dancing all night long." She laughed.

"I don't know how to dance," I said.

"Doesn't matter. You have a natural grace. Watch the others and follow." Zitora added the sandals to the top of my pile.

"I really can't take all of this." I tried to give the clothes back. "I came for advice, not your entire wardrobe." I planned to go to the market. With the return of the Citadel's residents, the shops remained open every day.

She shooed me away. "Hardly made a dent in my armoire. I'm a collector of clothes. I can't pass a dress shop without finding something I must have."

"At least let me pay-"

"Stop." She raised her hand. "I'll make it easier for you. Tomorrow I'm leaving on a mission for the Council, and-much to my chagrin-I will have an escort of four soldiers. Irys and Roze can gallivant all over Sitia by themselves, and they're assigned all the fun, secret missions. But the Council worries about me. So I'm limited to escorted missions." She huffed with frustration. "I've seen you practicing with your bow near the stable. How about I exchange my clothes for some lessons in self-defense?"

"Okay. But why didn't you learn how to defend yourself while a student here?"

"I hated the Master of Arms," she said with a deep frown. "A bully who turned the teaching sessions into torture sessions. He enjoyed inflicting pain. I avoided him at all costs. When the Masters realized I had strong powers, they focused more on my learning."

"Who's the Arms Master?"

"One of the northerners with Cahil. Goel's his name." Zitora shuddered with revulsion. "Although he wasn't as bad as the Master test..." She paused as a cringe of horror crossed her face. Then she jerked her head as if dislodging unwanted memories.

"Anyway, Roze offered to teach me, but I'd rather have you as my instructor." She flashed me a conspiratorial smirk.

Having agreed to the exchange, I maneuvered down Zitora's tower steps with the bundle of her clothes heaped in my arms. So burdened, I headed toward my rooms. On the way, I wondered about the Master test. Fisk, the beggar boy had also mentioned it. I would have to ask Irys.

The courtyard across from my quarters buzzed with students. A few boys tossed a ball, while others lounged on the grass or talked in groups. Hampered by Zitora's clothes, I fumbled at my door.

"Hey, you!" someone called.

I looked around and spotted a group of girls gesturing at me.

"The first year barracks are that way." One of the girls with long blond hair pointed. "This is for apprentices only."

"Thanks, but this is my room," I called, turning back.

I managed to get the door open before I felt a prickle of power along my spine. Tossing the clothing on to the floor, I spun around. A group of students stood mere inches from me.

"You don't belong here," said the long-haired girl. A dangerous shine lit her violet eyes. "You're new. I know everybody, and new students go to the first-year barracks. You have to earn a room here."

Persuasive magic emanated from her. A strong desire to pack my belongings and move to the first-year dorms coursed through my mind and pressed against my body. I deflected her magical command by strengthening my mental defenses.

She grunted in outrage. A look passed among her companions. Power built as they readied to join in. I braced for another attack, but before they could use their combined power, another voice cut through the throng.

"What's going on here?"

The power dissipated in a stiff wave as Dax Greenblade pushed his lean muscular body through the group, staring down at the others with his bottle-green eyes. In the sunlight, his honey-brown skin made his face appear older.

"She doesn't belong here," the girl repeated.

"Yelena is Fourth Magician's student," Dax said. "She's been assigned to this wing."

"But that's not fair," the girl whined. "You have to earn the right to be here."

"And who's to say she hasn't?" Dax asked. "If you believe Fourth Magician is in error, I suggest you take it up with her."

An uncomfortable silence followed before the group returned to the courtyard. Dax stayed beside me.

"Thanks," I said. The group huddled in a tight pack, casting nasty looks my way as they talked. "Guess I haven't made any friends."

"Three points against you, I'm afraid. One." Dax held up a long slender finger. "You're new. Two. Fourth Magician's your mentor. Any student selected by a Master is guaranteed to be the subject of jealousy. If you're looking for friends, I'm afraid Gelsi and I are your only choices."

"What's the third point?"

He smiled sardonically. "Rumors and speculation. The students will dig up every bit of information they can on you and why you're here. It doesn't matter if the information is true or not. In fact, the stranger the tidbits the better. And I have a feeling from what I already heard your tidbits are quite juicy and should inflame the gossip all the more."

I studied his face. Lines of concern creased his forehead, and I saw no signs of deceit. "Tidbits?"

"You're Leif's lost sister, you're older than all the students and you're extremely powerful."

I looked at him in surprise. Me? Powerful?

"I didn't come over to help you. I came to protect them." He inclined his head toward the group in the courtyard.

Before I could comment, Dax pointed to a room, five doors down from mine. "Come anytime for any reason. Gelsi is in the novice barracks near the west wall."

Dax waved goodbye and strode toward his room. The group's hostility transferred briefly to his back before returning to me. I closed my door.

Great. Day one and already the outcast. But did I care? Here to learn and not to make friends, I thought it wouldn't matter once lessons started. By then, the students would be too busy to pay any attention to me.

I sorted through Zitora's clothes, choosing a long black skirt and a red-and-black V-neck blouse. The shirt had two layers of material. A pattern of fine black lace over red silk.

I tried on the outfit. Deciding to leave my bow behind during the feast, I cut a slit in one of the skirt's pockets for quick access to my switchblade. The sandals were a little big, so I poked another hole in the strap.

Until I looked at myself in the mirror I hadn't realized I wore Commander Ambrose's colors, the same combination as my northern uniform. I considered another outfit, even tried on different clothes, but felt the most comfortable in my first choice.

Pulling my hair from its braid, I scowled at the limp mess. The year before I had cut out the snarls and tangles, and now the ends had grown in ragged. My black hair now reached past my shoulders. It would need a good trim and washing.

I changed back into my day clothes and left my rooms to feed the promised apples to Topaz and Kiki. Conversation in the courtyard ceased as I emerged. Ignoring them, I set out for the stable. I would stop by the baths on my return.

The time for the feast came quicker than I expected. Once again, I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom, assessing my clothing with a critical eye. I pushed a stray curl from my face.

An assistant at the baths had fussed over my awkward attempts to cut my own hair. She had commandeered my scissors and proceeded to trim the ends, then had rolled my hair with hot metal tubes.

Instead of being pulled into a bun, my hair now fell to my shoulders in big soft curls. I looked ridiculous. But before I could rearrange it, someone knocked on my door.

I grabbed my bow and peeked out the window. Cahil waited outside. His hair and beard appeared white in the moonlight.

Opening the door, I said, "I thought we agreed to meet..." I gaped.

Cahil wore a long silk tunic of midnight-blue. The collar stood up and silver piping followed the edge of the fabric to form a vee far enough below his throat to allow a glimpse of his muscular chest. The piping also went across his shoulders and dropped down the outside seam of his full sleeves. A silver mesh belt studded with gemstones cinched the tunic around his narrow waist. His trousers matched his shirt, and, once again, silver piping traced the outside seam of his pants, carrying my eyes down to a pair of polished leather boots. Royalty incarnated.

"I pass your rooms on the way. Seemed silly not to stop," Cahil said.

He squinted into the lantern light that glowed behind me, and I realized he couldn't see my openmouthed stare.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Give me a moment." Returning to the sitting area, I gestured Cahil toward a chair as I went into my bedroom, where I secured my switchblade then smoothed my skirt. With no time to fix my hair, I settled for tucking it behind my ears. Curls! Living in Sitia had made me soft.

Cahil smiled broadly when he saw me in the light.

"Don't laugh," I warned.

"I never laugh at a beautiful woman. I'd much rather laugh and dance with her."

"False flattery won't work on me."

"I meant every word." Cahil offered his arm. "Shall we?"

After a slight hesitation, I linked my arm in his.

"Don't worry. I'm only your escort tonight. I would offer to protect you from the drunken attentions of the other men, but I know all too well that you're quite capable of holding your own. You're probably armed. Right?"

"Always."

We walked in companionable silence. Groups of students and other couples headed in the same direction soon joined us. Lively music pulsed through the air, becoming louder as we approached.

The dining room had been converted into a ballroom. Orange, red and yellow velvet streamers twisted along the ceiling and draped the walls. Laughter and conversation competed with the music as some people drank and ate, while others danced on the wooden dance floor. Everyone appeared to be wearing their finest clothes. The room sparkled with jewelry in the candlelight.

Our arrival went unnoticed. But as Cahil pulled me through the crowd toward the back of the room, a couple of surprised glances marked our passing.

A jolt snapped through me as we cleared the crowd and I spotted Leif. I hadn't seen him since Irys had left, and I had assumed since he had graduated from the Keep he was no longer involved with the students or classes. But there he stood, next to Roze and Bain. Cahil aimed for them.

I almost fainted when Leif smiled at me as we approached, but when he recognized me it turned into a scowl. I wondered what I would have to do to get a true smile from Leif. Dismissing the thought, I didn't want to earn his goodwill, and I certainly didn't need it. Now, if I could keep saying that over and over in my mind, I might just start to believe it.

When we joined the group, Bain complimented my hairstyle, while Roze ignored me. Our group only truly came alive when Zitora joined us.

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect!" Zitora exclaimed over my outfit.

The talk soon turned to Council business and Cahil pressed Roze to get him on the agenda. Having no interest in discussing politics, my attention wandered as I scanned the crowd. I saw only a few of Cahil's men. They wore dress uniforms and stood awkwardly to the side as if on duty instead of being there for pleasure. Perhaps they were.

I watched the dancers for a while. They circled the floor in pairs. After eight beats, they stopped and then took four steps into the center, then four steps back and continued around the circle. The pattern was then repeated. Similar to some of my self-defense katas, the dance resembled a prescribed set of moves.

Dax and Gelsi appeared. Bain's students greeted the three Master Magicians with a stiff formality. Gelsi wore a soft green gown that shimmered in the lantern light. The gown's color matched her big eyes. Studded with gold buttons, Dax's red shirt had a mandarin collar. Gold piping lined the outside seam of his black pants.

"Hey, we match," Dax said to me. I could just hear him over the music. "Would you like to dance?"

I glanced at Cahil, debating with Leif. "Sure."

Dax smiled and pulled me into an opening on the dance floor. Watching had been easier than doing, but with Dax's steady guidance, I soon caught the rhythm.

As we circled the floor, Dax said, "Remember when I said you had three points against you?"

I nodded.

"Now there are five."

"What now?" I asked in exasperation. It was hard to believe I'd had time to make anyone else mad.

"You came to the feast on Cahil's arm. Everyone will assume two things. One. That you're his girlfriend. And two. That you're an Ixian sympathizer, which is the greater of the two evils."

"Well, they would be wrong. Who comes up with all these points and assumptions?" I demanded.

"Not me, that's for sure," Dax said. "If I were in charge, we'd have more desserts at dinner, more feasts and much more dancing."

We danced for a while in silence. I mulled over the implications and decided not to waste my time worrying about what everyone else thought, or to bother attempting to change their perceptions. My time at the Keep was just a stopover. Let them wonder. My nervousness about the evening dissipated with my decision. I smiled at Dax.

"You have a mischievous glint. What are you planning?"

"Only five points against me?" I narrowed my eyes in mock concern. "Such a small number. I say we try for eight or ten."