“To Bolivar’s quarters after this?” I whisper, settling on the bench.

He nods, spooning mash into his mouth.

“How’d you like those forms?” I ask, to make conversation.

“Fine. I’ve done them before, though I was taught a slightly different variation of Slit the Rope.”

“Same here. Hector does a more sideways motion. I like the diagonal version just fine, though.”

“I’ve never done just forms before,” Iván says. “They were always accompanied by actual swordwork.”

“It’s a little odd,” I agree.

A moment later, we are joined by Aldo, then Itzal, then Pedrón and the army recruits.

“You seemed to handle those forms all right,” Pedrón says.

I ignore him, taking another bite of oat mash.

“That swordmaster is a hypocrite,” Pedrón carries on. “Asking us to learn everything with both hands. I bet he’s not even very good.”

Pedrón is an ignorant fool. “And I bet he could thrash all you army boys at once, even with only one hand,” I say.

“It’s in your best interests to become adept with either hand,” Iván says. “That way, if you get injured, you can still keep your job.”

Pedrón shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Go on,” says Luca, nudging Pedrón with his elbow. “Ask her.”

“Ask me what?” I say, dread filling my gut. I’m fully expecting another question about parts—or worse.

Pedrón puts his elbows on the table and leans forward. “See, my boys and me, we spent some time in the army barracks before transferring here. So we’ve done some sword training. We are ready to learn more.”

“Master Santiago says we’re not,” Aldo says.

“That’s my point. He won’t teach us until we learn those stupid forms. So, will you do it, Red?”

“Do what?”

“Teach us the forms. You and Aldo, I mean. If we practice a little every night, maybe we can get to the fighting stuff faster.”

I blink. He’s asking for my help.

“She’s not going to do it,” says Andrés. “I told you she wouldn’t. She wants us to get cut.”

“Of course I’ll do it,” I say.

“You will?” Pedrón says, a surprised grin forming.

“I can’t speak for Aldo, but I’m happy to help anyone who wants it.”

“I’m happy to help too,” Aldo says.

Pedrón suddenly appears suspicious. “You’re not . . . I mean, you don’t think that will give us an advantage? We might get picked over you.”

I shrug. “The best thing that could happen is that we all become such strong candidates that they can’t bring themselves to cut any of us.”

Silence greets me. Then, “Is that even possible?” Pedrón says.

“Why not? They do such a good job of pitting recruits against each other in competition that they’ve probably never bothered to find out.”

Pedrón takes a few bites, chews thoughtfully. “So, can we get started after lunch then?”

“No, sorry,” I say pointing to my eye, which is surely bright plum by now. “I got walloped last night, remember? Another night of sleep will set me to rights. So anyone who wants to practice the forms can meet up in the arena tomorrow night during laundry time.”