Riah's Story Chapter 2

A/n: Hey everybody!! Here's Riah fic chapter 2!! Please note that I changed up the first chapter a tad, and consider rereading it – I messed with Mathias' role in the school and stuff. Hope you enjoy this!

Later note: I have edited this. Sorry for the flux.

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Bat led Riah out of the dorm through a door to the side, exiting onto another gravel path before cutting through the garden that lined it and across the grass to head for another building next to the one M'Lord Greuster had told him was for “General Studies”. His guide moved quickly, and finally Riah asked him, “am I making you late?”

“Yeah,” Bat said, “But don't worry about it. It's pretty normal for one of us to be given tour duty. I just like Master Norin's class, and I don't want you to be late.”

“Fair enough,” Riah answered.

“Actually, come to think of it Rituals 1 is really easy to find. You're on the first floor and all the way at the end of the hallway that leads to the right. Think you can get there on your own?”

He seemed anxious to be off, and Riah just nodded. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Thanks!” Bat said. “I realize I suck as a tour guide, but I'll see you when your class gets out and give you a better tour over the lunch period. Works for you?”

“No problem,” Riah said. “Thanks for the help.”

Bat grinned, then swiftly headed back towards the main building while Riah continued towards a set of double doors in the side of the pink stone school building ahead.

Once inside, he found himself in a large common area, furnished with couches on one side and tables and chairs on the other. It was sunny and warm, and apparently a popular place to work, as more than twenty students and Masters ranging in age from roughly twelve to adult were quietly crammed into almost every available seat. Two broad corridors led out, one straight ahead and another to his right.

Taking the right as instructed, Riah found it to be long and well-lit with free floating balls of a pale yellow light. Curious, he stopped briefly to put a hand to one, and found it was cool. Surprised, he poked it carefully with a fingertip and found that there was something hard at the center. It didn't yield to the poke, and finally he grabbed it in his hand and pulled gently. It still didn't budge.

Woah. For all it touched nothing, the ball was as fixed as if set in stone. It was so strange that he found it hard to leave alone, and pushed and pulled at it for another moment before once again concluding that it wasn't going to yield. Finally he started to feel antsy that someone would discover him alone in the corridor and headed for class again. As Bat had said, it was easy to find – all the way at the end of the hall was a room clearly labeled “Rituals 1C,” and he hesitated for a moment before quietly opening the door.

Great, Riah thought as he stepped into the cramped classroom. I'm early. From Bat's haste, he'd thought he was late, but either the other boy's hurry had been exaggerated, or he'd had a distance to go, because the classroom Riah stared into was still devoid of students.

The master was there, already, but he was seated behind a desk working on some sort of drawing, and didn't look up. The room was small, Riah realized, much smaller than the classrooms in his school had been. How many of us are there? He'd gotten the impression from the grounds that this was a big place.

“Sir?” he asked finally, finding himself a bit confused. I used to be used to this, he realized. This used to be my world. Somehow now, he really had no idea what to do.

The master looked up at the noise and scowled. “Who are you?”

“I'm Riah – Zachariah Mordelle,” he told the man. “Is this beginner rituals?”

“It is,” the man said forbiddingly. “Are you the new – student? The one from the prison?” The man was small, and though his voice was strong and sounded relatively young his face suggested otherwise, his short, spikey beard shockingly white against his wrinkled dark bronze skin.

“I am,” Riah said, mimicking the man's overly-formal tone.

“I was told you'd have a guard,” the man said next, gaze sharp and tone full of suspicion.

“I do,” Riah said, scowling back. Welcome to school, Riah, he thought sarcastically. What did you do with your summer? Well, sir, it was warm enough that yard time was actually outdoors... God, this was weird. Was he supposed to pretend he was a normal student? He was still not quite accustomed to having the cuffs off. Was he really supposed to sit, take notes, worry about papers? This was so...normal.

“Well then, where is he?” the man asked.

“I don't know,” he told the man honestly.

“Hmm,” the man said. Apparently that was a mark against him.

Not that it looks like I'm going to gain many points with this guy, Riah realized.

Riah just stood, feeling awkward, and finally the man snapped at him. “Well? Take a seat!”

Startled, Riah sat in the nearest chair. In school, we come in and sit down in chairs, he reminded himself, feeling stupid.

As soon as he sat, the master returned to whatever he'd been doing before, ignoring Riah entirely.

So that's how it's going to be, Riah thought. Not that he really minded. He'd half expected the man would throw him out.

More students came in shortly after him, sitting down and staring at him but staying entirely silent, apparently in awe of the master. There were only four of them, Riah realized – two average-looking boys about his age, a superior-looking girl who appeared older, and a pretty, plump younger girl who blushed and looked away as soon as their eyes met, clearly mortified to have been caught staring at him.

“Welcome, class,” the master said finally, looking up from his work. “Before we get started, does anyone have a question about the homework, or previous material?” He looked around for a moment before frowning. “No one? Very well then. We were working on Beeker's ritual of warding. Can someone tell me- Miss Nuñez, I gave you the opportunity to ask questions and I have yet to say anything that could be confusing. Is there a reason you see fit to interrupt me at this moment?”

The proud girl had stood up, revealing dark hair that extended to her waist. “I apologize, Master Tirdan, but I do have a question. You introduced the rest of us as we came into the class, but you haven't introduced the new kid. Was there a reason?” She sat.

The man frowned. “Very well, Miss Nuñez, perhaps I am remiss. By all means, Mr. Mordelle, introduce yourself.” There was something just slightly challenging in the small smile he directed to Riah. “Where are you from?”

Well that was a welcome, Riah thought. But the whole class was staring at him, now. Feeling awkward, he stood. “I'm Zachariah Mordelle. Riah. I-” Might as well, he realized. He wasn't allowed to cover his wrists, anyway. “I'm transferring from Barlin City Correctional. Before that I was from down south, in the Newyarn suburbs.” Not that it matters, he thought, staring fearlessly into the wide eyes that now checked for and found the tattoos on his wrists. Everybody knew what he was. They didn't care about anything else.

“What are you doing here then?” 'Miss Nuñez' asked, prompting a brief snort from the master.

“I-” Riah answered, before stopping. “I don't know, actually.”

“I believe the question was, why aren't you in prison?” the master asked. Surprisingly, the girl who'd asked the original question frowned.

“I think they decided I wasn't safe in the prison,” Riah said, lifting his chin challengingly at the suspicion and hostility in the other students' eyes.

“You would get hurt? How?” the girl asked, evidently curious. The other students were still just staring at his wrists.

Riah stared back at her. Well this is awkward. The master saved him from having to answer. “As it was told to me, Miss Nuñez, the prison was more worried that he would hurt someone else.”

“Ah,” the girl said, falling silent.

For a moment, everyone just stared, and Riah clenched his jaw, refusing to defend himself. It wouldn't matter anyway.

“I have been assured that we need not fear, and Mr. Mordelle is being – contained,” the master said finally.

Like I'm some sort of animal, Riah thought, angering.

“He couldn't be 'contained' at Barlin City and so he's here?” one of the boys spoke up finally.

“No, I couldn't,” Riah snapped back.

“I believe the question was why not, Mr. Mordelle,” Master Tirdan demanded impatiently.

Oh man, watch me making friends.

“The Barlin City Examiner said they couldn't safely keep me,” Riah answered, lifting his chin and speaking proudly. “I had the guards there running scared.” If they were going to hate him, he'd rather them also be too scared to try anything.

“And here, Mr. Mordelle?” the master asked.

“Here,” he answered, smiling. “I have my own personal jailor, and I'm just as harmless as a kitten without claws.” Surprisingly, this assessment did not seem to reassure anyone, and the silent staring recommenced.

“Does the introduction satisfy you?” Master Tirdan finally asked 'Miss Nuñez' cuttingly.

“His name is Zachariah Mordelle, he comes from Barlin City Correctional and he shouldn't be here. Is that about right?” she asked the man, sitting up very straight.

“You think he should, Miss Nuñez?” the Master asked her sharply. “You feel safe?”

“I'm sure the state would not have him here if we were not,” she argued.

Master Tirdan gave her a smile. “As heartening as it is to hear someone your age express such innocence, Miss Nuñez, I do not share your faith. Mr. Mordelle is a criminal, to all evidence convicted of murder. This is a school.”

“The state said he should be here,” the pretty shy girl said quietly. “Maybe we should give him a chance?”

“A chance, Miss Roth?”

The girl blushed furiously, but met his eyes and nodded.

The master scoffed lightly. “Very well, Lad,” he said finally, turning to meet Riah's eyes. “If Jody is speaking up you must be worth fighting for. Do you deserve to be here?”

Riah met his eyes. “No,” he said simply.

The man stared at him, clearly surprised. “No,” he repeated. He stood for a moment, keeping Riah's gaze, before speaking again, softer. “Why not, Mr. Mordelle?”

Riah gave the man a scornful look. “I should think that it would be obvious,” he answered the man. “After all, you agree with me, and you did before I even walked in the door. Unless you expect me to declare the injustice of the prison system and proclaim my innocence to all who will hear?”

Master Tirdan frowned. “You are fifteen years old, Mr. Mordelle. You might be surprised at how many would be willing to listen to you.”

Riah shook his head at the man, mouth twisting in disbelieving scorn. “And you call her innocent,” he scoffed, indicating the tall girl who'd spoken up for him, then holding up his wrists. “I've got the triple bar, man. And yes, I damned well deserve it. I killed the man they said I did. I'd do it again. I belong in prison. Clear enough?”

Every eye in the room was on him. Even Master Tirdan seemed taken aback. Riah just glared back.

“So. Should I leave?” he asked, turning his body in readiness to go.

“Sit down, Mr. Mordelle,” Master Tirdan snapped promptly. “You and I will both obey the will of the queen.”

“The queen is an idiot,” Riah argued, dropping into his seat. He heard a snort and thought maybe it was the tall girl from before.

Master Tirdan didn't seem amused. “Perhaps she just believes in giving people chances.”

Riah just snorted. Some chance. His life was over, and anybody looking at his court paperwork would come to the same conclusion. Though I'll admit this is a step up.

“I am Master Archibald Tirdan,” the man said next. “I graduated from here twenty-one years ago. I teach Rituals and occasionally substitute for Brews or Charms. Welcome to Ritten Academy.” There was a pause, and then he nodded to the shy girl. “Miss Roth.”

“I'm Jodeara Roth – Jody,” she said promptly, almost too quiet for him to hear.

“Miss Roth you must learn to project. Try again.”

“I'm Jody,” she said more loudly, blushing. “I started here two weeks ago.” She looked at the Master questioningly.

“Your preferred class,” the man suggested.

“I like Instinctual Magic,” she said promptly. “It feels more natural. Welcome.”

She sounded decidedly unsure about the welcome. Riah smiled at her, showing teeth, and she looked away, shy or actually afraid he couldn't tell.

“Mr. Rider,” Master Tirdan said next.

The boy who'd spoken before answered. “I'm Primus Rider. I've been here a year, but didn't start Rituals until last week.” He grinned. “I think it is boring as all hell, but I like the power of it. Welcome.”

“Taller,” the Master demanded without seeming to notice Primus' comment.

“Jaden Taller. Three Weeks. Charms. I like to carve.”

And no welcome at all, Riah immediately noticed. It made Master Tirdan frown, but he didn't say anything.

“Nuñez.”

The girl spoke up proudly, no sense of hesitance in her voice. “Esmeralda Nuñez. I've been here for a week, and I prefer theater to magic. Mine's not terribly strong, anyway, so that is what I will probably do after the Academy. Welcome, Riah.”

Despite the relatively humble words, Esmeralda sounded more like she was giving a welcoming speech than actually being welcoming. Theater? She really ought to go into politics.

“Good then,” the master said. “Warding. Why do we care about warding?”

“We don't,” Riah heard Jaden muttering.

“Mr. Taller,” Master Tirdan said sharply. “Thank you for volunteering. Beeker's ritual of warding.”

“It's a- a basic warding ritual,” the boy stammered, taken off guard.

“And warding is important because-”

“Because it can – protect things,” the boy said promptly. “But the one we're learning is only useful to contain one's own magic, and only temporary. Containing someone else's is more complicated.”

“Good, Mr. Taller. Do not speak out of turn. Who can tell me how one prepares for the ritual? Miss Nuñez?”

“We're beginners,” Esmeralda reported, “We start with a chalk circle on the ground, to help us sprinkle the sand accurately, and memorize the words to say.”

“Good. You have all done this?”

The class nodded.

“Good. I will collect your notes as you leave,” the Master said. “Pair up.”

The two boys promptly moved desks together, Jaden sending Riah a look as if daring him to try and join. Riah stared back, equally aggressive, and the other boy looked away rapidly. Riah smiled. That didn't work nearly as well at Barlin City. Nobody there would actually back down from a fifteen-year-old boy. Avoid him, yes, but admit that he'd won?

The girls, too, were clearly used to being paired, but instead of warning him off they seemed content to stare. Jody, of course, looked away as soon as she realized he'd noticed, but Esmeralda met him stare for stare before giving a small smile.

“Were you planning on helping from across the room, Jailbird?” she asked him.

“I can work alone,” he told her.

“No, you cannot, Mr. Mordelle,” Master Tirdan told him cuttingly. “Miss Roth, I do not believe Mr. Mordelle's appearance is so extraordinary as to merit that level of awe. Get to work.”

“Doing what?” Jaden asked impatiently.

“Mr. Taller that is the second rude comment out of you today, and if you know what is good for you it will also be the last. Your performance in this class is not so good that you can afford to miss it.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said quickly.

“If you were paying any attention at all at the start of the lesson it should come as no surprise that the topic remains Beeker's Ritual of Warding, and you should already know most of the procedure. Miss Nuñez and Miss Roth, you are responsible for Mr. Mordelle. Get him up to speed, please. For now you will work on tracing the circles. One compass per group, please, and do not waste sand. Those who are not currently tracing should practice the incantation and give each other feedback. Do not say the incantation while tracing sand. I want no magic involved in this just yet. Any questions?”

“Black sand or white?” Primus asked.

“White, Mr. Rider, as you would know if you'd prepared. Be sure to do so in the future.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said.

“Good. Begin, then.”

Riah was sitting off to one side of the two girls, but he didn't have any of his own supplies, so he just got up and moved to a desk near where theirs were shoved together, grateful when they moved over to accommodate and promptly began to explain things.

“Tracing” apparently involved drawing a large, precise circle with a compass and chalk, then sprinkling it over with sand, paying close attention to making a narrow, complete line. It was only slightly less boring then “incanting”, which turned out to describe the process of repeating the words “contain my workings” over and over in a careful, even monotone.

“Say it right, and mean it!” the Master barked at Esmeralda once. “Do you wish to allow your magic free reign?”

“It would do nothing!” the girl protested.

“In a ritual it might very well! Rituals are the best way to enhance your magic, Miss Nuñez, and you'd do very well to learn them well if you are so convinced of your own weakness!”

Despite the Master's enthusiasm, however, it took Riah very little time to conclude that the boy Primus had been right – Rituals was the most boring class he'd yet taken. And it just went on, too.

“How long is this class?” he asked Jody finally.

She smiled shyly. “Two hours. We're an hour and fifteen minutes in.”

Forty-five minutes left. Fantastic.

Eventually the class did end, though, and as everyone packed up and put their prepared notes on the Master's desk, the man called to Riah.

“Mr. Mordelle.”

Tensing, Riah turned towards the Master. “Sir.” He hadn't done a damned thing.

“Stay and speak to me, please.”

“Sir,” Riah acknowledged again, hearing the word come out slightly clipped but sitting down as ordered. Fuck with me and you'll regret it, man.

The other students left quickly, and then Riah was alone with the Master. Feeling his adrenaline picking up, Riah shook his head. Ridiculous, he told himself. They wouldn't have sent “M'lord Greuster” to the Ritten Academy specifically keep him under control if their most basic Masters could do so.

“Your textbook,” Master Tirdan said, holding a book out to him. “You'll need it to prepare. Please remember that it belongs to the school, and do not damage it.”

Riah stared at him. Textbook, he thought. Right. The class was supposed to do reading in it for Friday, and hand in their notes. It hadn't occurred to him that the assignment was meant for him, too.

“Well?” the Master asked impatiently. He was still holding out the book. Walking forward a bit, Riah took it.

“Thank you,” he said belatedly.

To his surprise, the Master smiled, thin bunching at his eyes and mouth. “A bit confused, aren't you?” the man asked him, tone amused and surprisingly friendly.

“It's different,” Riah admitted.

“I'll bet,” Master Tirdan said. “You're dismissed. I believe Mr. Thomisson is waiting for you in the hall. After lunch you're to go to Charms, probably in Master Dalter's classroom. Tell Mr. Thomisson that that is Charms 255.”

“Thank you,” Riah said again.

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As Master Tirdan had predicted, Bat was leaning against a wall in the hallway outside the Rituals classroom, obviously waiting for him.

“What'd he hold you back for?” the boy asked him immediately, standing up from his slouch.

“Just to give me the textbook,” Riah told him, showing him the book he held in one hand.

“He didn't give you a hard time?” Bat asked, obviously surprised, before heading off down the corridor.

“Oh, he did,” Riah answered, following him. Apparently the man's got a reputation. “He just didn't need to hold me back to do so.”

Bat winced. “Yeah, not much for privacy, is Tirdan,” he said. “He's really not too bad, though, long as you're a good student.”

“I'm not,” Riah said. It wasn't quite true, at least before, but Riah found himself really unsure if anything could be compared to the last time he'd been in a school. Certainly it didn't feel the same.

Bat grinned at him. “Well, then you're screwed,” he said. “'Specially with the strikes you came in with.”

“Strikes?” Riah asked. The boy was undoubtedly referring to the marks on his wrists and record, but how many people even knew about that, yet? Tirdan does, though.

Bat stopped walking at Riah's words, and stood facing him, frowning. “Surely you didn't think you'd be easily accepted here, prison tats and all?”

He was blunt enough that Riah almost winced. “No, I didn't,” he admitted. I was just ignoring it. That was the point of the tats, right? He couldn't go anywhere without people noticing until they were canceled. “I really couldn't care,” he said.

Bat shook his head, but started walking again. “You'll care,” he predicted. “Probably wise to pretend otherwise, but nobody actually doesn't care.”

Riah frowned. Bat was dumpy-looking and a bit strange, but he couldn't be that low on the social totem pole, could he? He was Lord Sebastian J. Thomisson, after all, much as he seemed to hate it.

Bat lead him back the way he'd come, introducing the sunny common area as the “Rituals Commons” and explaining that there was a similar one in each building before heading back through the door to the outside. This time he followed the gravel path for awhile, heading straight out between rows of trees and next to a nondescript pink stone building off to the left.

“That's our rec building,” Bat said. “It's got some decent fried food and a store for school supplies, but you have to pay cash unless your parents set up money for you. The mess hall comes with your tuition.”

Riah nodded. “Good to know.”

“The big sports fields are behind it,” Bat continued, “and there's a gym, too, maybe with a swimming pool. I'm not sure.”

Riah smiled slightly, unsurprised. Bat didn't really look like the type to be intimately familiar with the sports buildings. More like the type he'd ask about languages, or magical theory.

“The rec building's more important, though,” Bat said. “People spend a lot of time there, on weekends, and it's where you sign up for trips and such.” Suddenly he winced. “Are you – can you leave the school?” he asked awkwardly.

“Unlikely,” Riah answered, reminded. It just looks like a school, he told himself. He could never forget that it was still a prison. Certainly I would not attempt to leave, were I you. Where was his “guardian”? Would he really notice if Riah just walked out? But then he could have just “walked out” of Barlin, too. For whatever reason, he hadn't wanted to. I wouldn't even have anywhere to go, he reminded himself. But it was hard that the walls around the grounds were only three feet high.

“Sorry,” Bat said, even more awkward.

“Not your fault, is it?” Riah said sharply.

“No, but-”

“Then don't apologize.” How the boy got off thinking sympathy was either merited or helpful was beyond him.

But then Bat fell silent, only speaking again to point out when they'd found the mess hall.

Sure, Riah, Riah thought to himself angrily, alienate your only allies. Way to go. He was so fucked up.

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Mathias walked to the front door of his house, careful as usual not to step on his wife's flowers. The path got narrower every year as she continued to pack in new plantings. The house was not particularly convenient to the palace, but Jenna loved it, and so he could manage. Now it would be very convenient. He frowned, trying not to let thoughts of his new ward blacken his mood. He was home, he would have a pleasant lunch with his wife and daughter. He'd have more time with them, now that he would not be commuting to the palace for the Consort.

Jenna opened the door for him before he got there, grinning. “I don't care what you think of your new position,” she informed him. “I love it.”

He couldn't help but smile. “You would,” he told her.

She put her hands on her hips, still grinning hugely. “And you don't want to see me more often?”

“I want to eat more of your cooking, at least,” he told her.

“Oh, I see,” Jenna said, frowning at him. “Well I've got soup on the hotstone,” she told him. “And I made pudding for Leni.”

“Oh good,” he said. The bean soup from last night's dinner had been really excellent. “Where is Lena?” he asked her, looking around the kitchen and not finding the little girl.

“Tasha took her for the morning,” Jenna said. “She should be back momentarily. Could you set the table?”

“Sure.” He got out dishes and set them down, finishing just as young Tasha came up the walk, a tired and soaking wet Lena nearly asleep in her arms.

“Oh!” Jenna said, hurrying outside to take the little girl. Mathias followed her more slowly, grabbing the coin bag from the hidden drawer under the spice cabinet as he went.

“What did you do to her?” Jenna asked, sounding scandalized.

Tasha laughed. “We played in the koi pond, M'Lady,” she said. “Old Merina was ready to kill me.”

“I'm sure she was,” Jenna said laughingly. “Thank you, Tasha.”

“How much do we owe you?” Mathias asked the young woman.

“Forty coin,” Jenna answered for her.

Mathias counted it out, and Tasha took it respectfully. “Thank you, M'Lord.”

“Thank you,” he answered.

Lena had not woken up much from her transfer to her mother's arms. “She needs to eat,” he said softly to Jenna after Tasha had left.

“Are you hungry, Leni?” Jenna said. “There's soup.”

Lena frowned solemnly, thinking it over. “Yes,” she agreed finally, waking up a little.

Jenna fed her at lunch, holding the just-barely-three-year-old securely on her lap and blowing on each spoonful of soup before it went into her mouth.

Mathias smiled, watching her. Lena was a little old for the amount of coddling Jenna gave her, but they both clearly loved the time together, and Lena didn't lack for independence. After a moment, his smile faded. Jenna should have more children, but it had been three years, and he had failed to get her pregnant again. It hurt, when caring for Lena clearly gave her such joy.

Jenna caught him watching and gave him a puzzled look.

“Nothing,” he told her.

“Eat your food,” she told him.

He smiled. “Yes, ma'am.” He bent back over his bowl, spooning up more of the thick soup. He really couldn't linger if he was going to get to his meeting on time. Though what they really need to talk about when the Consort gives them an order is beyond me.

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Bat opened the door in front of Riah, allowing him to walk before him into the utter chaos that was supposed to be the mess hall. Lines of students wound their way around tableware, condiment, and side dish stations to three or four different serving areas, then disappeared into a corridor in the back. Presumably it led to tables somewhere. Everyone was talking and moving at once, and in the cacophony of clattering tableware and their voices it was difficult to hear Bat's basic procedural explanation. He found himself almost longing for the cold organization of the prisoner's mess at Barlin – at least that was quiet.

Still, no one objected to him getting food, and Riah found himself suddenly starving. Unable to choose among the numerous options, he grabbed a tray, plate, and fork before joining a line at random. He grabbed food as he got to it, careful not to slop it onto the tray he was using to carry both his plate and borrowed textbook. He ended up with a small piece of chicken, two rolls, and a mess of roasted purple longbeans. All of it looked fresher than anything he'd had in the last year.

Not bothering to look for Bat again, Riah went to the back room and weaved among the full tables to find an empty one in the back. Sitting with his back to the wall, he wolfed the food, barely noticing when he was eventually joined by four others. Finally he was full, though, and looked up to realize that his companions were Jody, Esmeralda, Bat, and a stranger. He stared at her for a bit, startled. She was one of the most...striking looking...young fae women he'd ever encountered. Her skin was very fair, and hair bright pink streaked through with navy blue, shaved on the sides and long in the middle so it flopped into her face. The area where it was shaved on the left sported a dark cobalt tattoo that color-matched the streaks in her hair, a flower whose twisted stem twined down around her eye all the way to her cheekbone. Her face was pierced at the opposite eyebrow and bottom lip, and her delicately pointed ears at the cartilage and lobe on both sides. Interesting, Riah thought. He'd seen men with scalp tattoos, but this was the first girl he'd encountered with one.

“...Herblore,” Jody was saying quietly. “Master Babou will be furious.”

“This is nonsense,” the tattooed girl answered in a heavy accent. “He love you. All the Masters are very happy with you.”

“He loves you,” Esmeralda corrected her.

“No, he love Jody,” the girl answered, smiling mischievously. “She is a pretty, soft girl who gets all fives. I am-” she paused, seeming to search for the word, “-annoying ugly girl with my weird accent who doesn't do my homework at all.”

“No, I meant-” Esmeralda started.

Somehow the girl's grin interrupted her and told her she was stupid at one and the same time. Clearly she had understood the first time.

Esmeralda grinned, a surprise given the straightness of her posture and the care with which she ate. Then again, she did call me Jailbird earlier. That didn't quite fit the noble manners, either. He should probably have been offended, actually, but somehow “Jailbird” paled next to other labels he could be given. It even made it sound almost normal, as casually said as it'd been. She's weird.

“You are annoying,” Esmeralda told the girl.

The girl grinned back, highlighting the ring in her lip. “My older brother tells me, too,” she articulated carefully.

His food finished, Riah started to get up to leave when Bat spoke up.

“Yo, Riah, do you even know where to go?”

“Charms 255,” he recited.

“And where is that?” Bat challenged him, tone one of exaggerated patience.

“I'll find it,” Riah told him, annoyed.

“You're an idiot,” Bat retorted.

“Oh, thanks,” Riah said sarcastically.

“Sebastian's right,” Esmeralda told him. “You'll get lost. The Charms building is numbered all screwy and the second floor is particularly bad.” She turned back to the group at large. “Who's going to the Charms building next?”

“I am,” the still-unnamed foreign girl said, brushing pink hair out of her eyes and turning to him. “I am Cassandra,” she said.

“I am Riah,” he told her. “But your friend calls me Jailbird.”

She smiled. “I know. 'Ralda likes-” she frowned in thought. “Funny names.”

“Nicknames,” Esmeralda supplied.

“Nicknames,” Cassandra repeated. “I am Baldy, sometimes, because I shave my head. You are Jailbird. You have the three...lines?”

“Bars,” he supplied, holding them up.

“Bars,” she repeated. “Les trois lignes. They are the same in my country. At least...I think they are.” She frowned. “Three means...meurtre. You killed someone.”

“Yes,” he told her, meeting her eyes to read her expression. “The word in English is murder.”

She stared back at him for a moment, then looked away. “Oh.”

“Been wondering about that,” Bat spoke up cheerfully, holding a bite of chicken up on a his fork. “How exactly did you end up here?” He put the piece of chicken in his mouth, waiting for Riah's answer.

“Shouldn't I still be in prison, you mean?” Riah repeated bluntly. “I am.”

Bat gave him an impatient look, still chewing.

“My jailor here is better qualified to keep me in control here than the prison guards were,” Riah explained finally. “Plus I'm guessing they wanted me trained up some.”

Bat swallowed. “They thought you could break out of Barlin?” he repeated.

“I could've,” Riah said. Bat's eyes widened, willingly impressed, and Riah shrugged. “Probably,” he added. “Never actually tried it.”

“Why not?” Cassandra wanted to know.

No idea. He did, though. “I didn't have anywhere better to be,” Riah told her.

She frowned doubtfully. “Than prison?”

“Yes,” Riah confirmed cuttingly.

They were staring again. Sneering at them, Riah stood up with his tray and set it in one of the cleanup carts before leaving.

“Wait!” Cassandra called, hurrying up after him. He slowed down marginally, and she caught up to him. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I should not-” she bit her lip in frustration, once again searching for a word. “...insist? Push? I am too curious.”

“I'm not an animal in a zoo,” he told her.

“No, but you are interesting,” Cassandra said. “Is it so bad, that we ask instead of just point and whisper and wonder? You can just say, if you do not want to answer.”

“If it's about my life before Barlin, I don't want to answer,” he told her cuttingly.

“Fine!” she exclaimed. “You have this right! But I did not know. Look, I will change subject.”

“Change the subject,” he corrected her.

“Yes, clearly we talk about my crappy English,” she said waspishly.

Strangely, he felt compelled to reassure her. He ignored the impulse. “Where are you from?” he asked instead.

“Mardin*,” she said, “East, across the ocean.”

“Mardinia,” Riah supplied.

“Yes,” she said. “But it is called Mardin.”

“Fair enough,” Riah said. “It's your country.”

She didn't say anything, and he didn't feel like making conversation out of nothing, so they walked in silence back towards the school buildings.

As it turned out, the Charms building was in the same place as the Rituals building, the two buildings joining with two others to form a square. In the center was a pretty courtyard with a fountain surrounded by decorative gardens, currently bursting with fall color and interesting foliage but few flowers. Cassandra just led him straight through without pausing, passing in front of the Rituals building and up the stairs of what must be Charms. The stairs led straight to the second floor, and Riah guessed that the building was U-shaped, with two corridors leading off either side of the wider area they'd walked in to. Cassandra led him left, down to the middle of the corridor, and then abruptly turned left into a narrower corridor. Huh. Not quite a U, then. In the second corridor, they passed a door labeled “233” and another labeled “216” and finally arrived at the third labeled “255”, and also “Charms 1D”.

“We are a bit early,” Cassandra told him. “You might have to wait for the Master to open the door.”

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said. “I have Charms class upstairs, and the staircase is in this hallway. See you.”

She smiled once and left back up the corridor. Finding that as she'd predicted the door was locked, Riah sat on the floor to wait.

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*This would obviously be pronounced as the French would, but I have trouble representing it in English. Mard-eih? The second syllable is a nasal sound that English doesn't have and that bears no resemblance to an 'n' sound at all.

A/n: Hope you liked!! Please comment!!