Midway through the second week, we enter the arena to find a handful of second years already there, waiting for us. The sand is wet from a recent rain burst, and their footsteps crunch as they approach.

“Uh-oh,” says Aldo.

One steps ahead of the others. He’s broad shouldered, with a deep cleft in his chin. “I’m Tanix,” he says. “Squad leader for the second years.”

“What do you want, Tanix?” I say. There are only five of them, and there are thirteen of us. We can take them, if it comes to that.

“We’ve been keeping an eye on you,” the squad leader says.

“Keep watching,” Itzal says. “Maybe you’ll learn something.”

“No call for that,” Tall Arturo says, putting a hand on Itzal’s shoulder. “He’s here at my invitation.”

“What? Why?” says Pedrón.

Tanix lifts his chin and says haughtily, “We’d like to join your class. We think we can help you.”

Aldo says, “We’re doing just fine.”

“Wait,” Iván says. “Let’s stop and think.” His voice is calm and steady—in fact, I can’t remember him ever raising it—but there’s something about it that makes people stand at attention. Something about him. He says, “Are we Royal Guard?”

Several murmurs of assent.

“Are we all Royal Guard, sworn to protect Empress Elisa, her family, and her interests?”

“We are,” Tanix says. “Every one.”

“Tanix and the second years can help us,” Tall Arturo insists. “And we can help them. Their training has been stalled for weeks too, and no one knows why.”

I say, “This isn’t all of you.”

“No,” Tanix says. “Not everyone could be convinced that we need to team up. We’re all in danger of getting cut, you see. The better your class does, the higher the chance they’ll get rid of some of us.”

“The other way around holds too,” Itzal says.

“Yes,” Tanix acknowledges.

“Making us all compete against each other is the best way to keep us divided,” I point out. “Keep us weak.”

“Red has a point,” Itzal says.

“But that’s how it’s always been done, right?” says Pedrón. “After four years, only the best remain in the Guard.”

“Maybe things need to change,” I mutter.

“You’re saying people should stay in the Guard who aren’t the best?” Pedrón says.

“No. I just think there has to be a better way. And now, this year, when everything is weird and our prince might be in trouble, we have to stick together more than usual.”

“Hear, hear,” says Iván.

“Let’s vote on it,” I say. “All first years in favor of welcoming the second years to our unofficial class, raise your hand.”

Arturo’s hand shoots into the air. Other hands follow quickly, even Pedrón’s.

“It’s unanimous,” Itzal says, grinning now. “Welcome to the class, Tanix.”

Tanix and the second years fail to hide how pleased they are.

After a few minutes of wrangling, we settle on a plan for the next few weeks, which will rotate us through swordsmanship with occasional shield work, archery, hand-to-hand combat, and fitness training. None of us is an expert at anything, but everyone knows something. It will have to be enough.