Leon, over near the steel door, had settled back against the wall and half-closed his eyes. He’d probably heard this all a million times before.

“Now let me pose you a question—Matthew, do not touch that!” Babbage’s tone held a definite

warning, and the boy yanked his fingers away from the .22 on the table.

Freaking amateurs. You keep your hands away from a gun unless you’re paying attention. It just

works out better that way.

“Yessir,” Matthew mumbled. His spiky inky haircut was fashionable last year, but the sullen-fratboy look he always wore never goes out of style.

Babbage continued while I toyed with my ear protectors. “You have a wounded vampire down,

bleeding out quickly. What is the weapon of choice for dispatching it?”

“Anything that gives you reach,” Babyface muttered.

“I second that.” This from a tall lanky djamphir towhead with thistledown-fine hair. “Headshot,

more shots to the torso to bleed, or malaika.”

Babbage nodded approvingly. I felt like I’d been pinched. Christophe had brought me a set of

malaika—wooden swords, of all things—and promised to teach me how to use them. They’d probably burned when the redheaded vampire exploded my room at the old Schola.

Someone else asked before I could. “Do they still teach malaika anymore? I thought those were—”

“They’re still efficient.” Babbage glanced at me. A djamphir in the first row handed the paper target

to me. The shots were nicely grouped, even if I did say so myself. “They are traditionally held to be

a svetocha ’s weapon, since a female’s greater reflex speed and coordination gives her an edge.

Hawthorn is also deadly to the nosferat, for reasons you’ll learn in your chemistry and Sympathetic

Sorcery classes.”

That perked my ears right up. “Sorcery?”

Babbage inclined his head. He leaned a hip against one of the tables, easily and obviously not resting any weight on it. “Surely you’ve noticed that a djamphir’s weapons are not all physical. We are

in the process of rediscovering djamphir arts and processes that were lost when we were almost extinguished as a species.”

I almost hopped from foot to foot. “Are you talking, like, what kind of sorcery? Witchcraft? Ceremonial magic? Hexes, or—”

The interest in his sharp dark eyes mounted a few notches. “Djamphir sorceries are largely sympathetic and combat-based. They share some commonalities with standard European witchcraft. Asian

and Middle Eastern djamphir, few as they are, have inherited some notable sorceries and resistances

that we haven’t been able to study much, mostly because they are few and secretive. They are also

fighting a war on both fronts, with the nosferatu and the Maharaj.”

I was getting answers, but they were too slow. Babbage was good about answering though. He never looked at me like I was a moron. “What are the Maharaj? I’ve heard of them, but—”