At the end of the corridor, the headmistress halted in front of a human-size door, too narrow for a full-grown storm beast, though plenty wide enough for Pixit and Chauda now.

Chauda snorted, a sound full of disapproval.

“There are external entrances to all the dorm rooms, for your beasts to use after they grow,” Professor Werrin said—​Mina thought she sounded a touch defensive. “Mytris School is a historic building with a rich history. These dorms are a legacy of a time before storm beasts, when doorways were narrow, and thick walls were needed to protect us from the weather. They remind all students and beasts of their purpose in Alorria.”

Another snort from Chauda, but this one somehow managed to sound more polite.

Mina wondered what it would be like to need walls for the weather. Did the people beyond the mountains—​“outsiders,” as Mother and others called them—​hide behind walls all the time?

She toyed with the idea of asking, but it seemed their brief tour was at an end. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could form the words. Or that she should.

“This will be your room until you graduate and receive your assignments,” Professor Werrin said, swinging a door open. “Morning bell will be your signal to wash, dress, and join your classmates for breakfast. After breakfast, you will meet your teacher outside on the practice field. Follow the other students.”

Jyx began peppering the headmistress with questions: what was breakfast, when would training begin, when would their first flying lesson be, how soon until they went into their first thundercloud, what kind of lessons would they have.

Full of wonder, Mina moved past her into the dorm room.

She’d never lived anywhere but her family’s farmhouse. And this looked exactly like she’d imagined a student room would look. Practical and perfect. She loved it.

It was all black, like the rest of the school. She touched the stone walls—​they seemed to be painted with the same fire-resistant stuff she’d discovered on the ship. On each side of the room was a bed with a shiny silver blanket. Fire-resistant too? Pixit trotted over to one of the beds, and a spark leaped from his tail onto the silver blanket. «Yep.»

She liked that. It meant Pixit would be able to stay with her at night. In fact, it looked as if he was expected to. He had a bed as well, at the foot of hers, a large divot four times his current size, padded with rubber. There was a matching spot on the opposite side of the room for Chauda. One side of the room was all window, as wide as a full-grown storm beast, latched shut. This must be how they’re supposed to enter once they’re bigger, she thought. Mina crossed to it and opened it wide, expecting to glimpse the hills and maybe even the mountains beyond.

There wasn’t anything to see.