Two weeks after the second years join us, Luz-Daniel, the assistant cook, slips me a note while he ladles refried beans into my bowl. I slide the note into my pocket. Reading it will have to wait until I can break away from the crowd.

As we’re leaving for our afternoon fitness session, I say to anyone who is listening, “I need to use the latrine. See you all out there.”

“I’ll guard the door for you,” Aldo says. My fellow recruits have been taking turns at this, allowing me peace and privacy for tending to my personal needs.

“Thanks, Aldo.”

While Aldo stands in the doorway with his back to me, I pull the note from my pocket and read.

Three barrels date syrup destroyed. Searching for others.

From Amalur: continued health. Baby soon.

Keep training.

Relief hits me like a brick, and I almost loose a sob. Rosario understood my note. He’s taking action. Elisa and the baby are fine. The prince knows about our training and approves.

But my relief is short-lived, because when I read the note a second time, I realize that thirty-seven barrels remain unaccounted for. Enough to poison an army.

“Red? We’d better hurry,” Aldo says from the door.

“Coming.” I toss the note into the latrine and cover it with mulch, then hurry to rejoin Aldo at the door. “Let’s go.” As we jog through the tunnel toward the arena, I add, “Aldo, you were great last night. Your parrying reflexes are incredible. I’m learning a lot from you.”

He beams. “And you’re learning fast. Which is good.”

“The two of us are on the small side. We have to work harder than everyone else.”

“Yes,” he says solemnly. “In addition, I bear the great burden of beauty.”

“But you soldier on.”

“By the grace of God.”

We are the last of the recruits to arrive, and we barely have time to take up our positions before Bruno enters, followed by two other Guards.

“Good afternoon, first years. Today, you’ll be running the walls. This time, you’ll carry packs filled with sand.”

We know better than to groan aloud, but I sense some of the boys around me drooping. It’s a very hot day, the worst kind of day for running.

“But first, I’m afraid we have to announce a cut. We’ve put it off as long as possible, but the time has come.”

Everyone around me is frozen in place. A muffled din of voices filters toward us from the nearby stables. The sun beats on my scalp. I can hardly breathe. Don’t get cut, Rosario said. If I’m kicked out of the Guard, I will have failed him.

Guardsman Bruno says, “Itzal, you are dismissed from training. The empress thanks you for your service.”

I’m dizzy with relief. Then sick with disappointment. Itzal is clumsy, yes. Slow to learn anything physical. But he’s intelligent and earnest. I’ll never forget the day I received my uniform, when Itzal stood before me to create a privacy barrier.