Hypatia joined me and Georgie at our table. She looks exhausted; she’s paler than she was during Ha’i class this morning, and she hardly touches her food. I’m also not feeling my best. Despite my call with Kor yesterday, I’m still on edge about the Guard. But not being alone and eating a good lunch is certainly helping.

As I indulge in freshly baked herb bread spread with garlic maple butter and a savory nut pâté, Georgie and Hypatia find common ground discussing a topic that has them both very excited—hoverjousting.

Hypatia says to Georgie, “I hope you don’t have any delusions that the Artisans will rank in the tournament. Your guild’s team is abysmal.”

Georgie sighs. “Yeah, they really are.”

As their conversation progresses, I gather that a hoverjoust is exactly what it sounds like, a joust—like the ones on horseback at the Renaissance faire—but on hoverboards. The players rush toward each other with lances raised and try to hit their opponent’s shield or, even better, knock them off their hover. It sounds awesome, and Hypatia insists that she and Georgie will teach me how to play after classes today.

Their discussion turns to arguing over whether the Ciphers or Bios will win first place in the tournament this year.

Georgie excitedly says, “The title will go to the Ciphers for sure. Having Hera as captain has transformed their team, and she’s undefeated.”

Hypatia is just as excited, the conversation pulling her out of her lethargy. “Maybe before Rafe joined the Bios, but he’s also undefeated, and Hera has the tendency to—”

Georgie interrupts. “Don’t say anything negative about Hera Earhart in my presence.” She looks wistfully over at a table where two Black girls are sitting. I assume one of them must be Hera. “She is possibly my future wife, and she’ll eat that arrogant pretty boy alive.”

Hypatia giggles. “That’s an accurate description of my cousin.”

My head snaps up at that. “He’s your cousin?”

“Speak of the literal devil,” Georgie says.

I turn to see a beautiful scowl. Raphael “Rafe” Vanguard has risen from his seat at the cliquey popular table and is glaring directly at us.

“Hypatia,” he barks. “Come sit here.”

Hypatia rolls her eyes and blows him a kiss but doesn’t get up. Rafe’s eyes burn with anger—but not at her, at me.

“Why are they so—” I motion with my hand, indicating the general aloofness of Rafe and his friends.

“ ’Cause they think they’re better than everyone,” Georgie says.

Hypatia doesn’t seem to be bothered by this assessment of her cousin. She says, “A bunch of us, mostly Sires, transferred here temporarily from the other Maker school, the academy in Avant. There’s rumors of a breach at Avant, and with the Sire abductions, the Council thought we’d be safer here.”