“I don’t mind at all. But you’ll want to be careful.” He nodded over her shoulder to where the Wolf had left. “Faol’s the best of us.”

Orfeus washed her mouth out. “The bigger they are…” she said with a shrug.

Tai laughed a little, standing. “No, I mean he’s the best,” he said. “A good fighter sure, but he really believes in it, y’know? Faolan’s been here longer than most of us. Faolan’s survived.” He shook his head. “Ahhh, but you can argue with whoever you want. I shouldn’t stop you.”

Orfeus stood up, pushing her chair neatly back in. “Good,” she said. “I choose to argue with everyone.”

Tai snorted.

He took her to the training room, whistling. She whistled back, deliberately offkey, and he lost track of his tune and laughed.

The Ocelot was in there already, whirling kicks into the mannequins that shook them to the base. Tai called, “Hey, Juana! It’s cool if we train with you, yeah?”

Juana called back without turning around, “Not like you could beat me, Shark!”

Tai grinned. “Common knowledge,” he said. Orfeus snorted.

She draped her cloak over a balancing pole that ran along one wall. Tai wore good clothes to fight in already, loose grey slacks and pants without the belts he’d worn on the mission, and began stretching to warm up. Orfeus copied him. She was rusty on stretches.

Juana finished her flurry of blows and turned to them, panting a little. She smiled at Orfeus. Her smile was bright and impish, her face small, her features as precise as her punches. “Ah, good,” she said cheerfully. “You did promise that I could beat you up a little.”

“Yes…” Orfeus stretched and skirted her eyes aside. “I’m still sorry about that.”

Ocelot sighed and walked up to her, an easy sway of motion. She patted her shoulder companionably. “It’s not like it would be the first time someone’s died in a Trial,” she said, sounding amused by it.

“Ah,” Orfeus said. “That’s…just excellent.”

Juana dimpled at her, and turned to resume her onslaught. The fighting style wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to Orfeus, like kickboxing, though a higher level than she’d ever attained. It had been a while. Orfeus went to look for hand wraps.

She’d barely opened the first drawer over by the sink when the Owl popped their head through the door of the training room. They glanced around, then fixed on her. “Fox!” they said. “The Falcon wants to see you.”

Tai paused in his stretches and Juana in her blows, in order to stare at her.

Orfeus glanced between them all. “I don’t know who that is?” she said.

“Oh,” Tai said and shook his head. “One of our irregulars. You’d better hurry, she doesn’t show up in person much.”

Irregulars? What counted as irregular for a group of mercenaries?