Before I thought, my mouth opened. “And how do you know the Captain of the Guard, Covington?” I said. “Or, for that matter, since when do you talk to Clayskin merchants? From what I hear you do everything but talk.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What have you heard?”

“They say a jeweled cuff for a kiss is the going rate. A spool of thread for—more. It’s no wonder you wear such finery.”

She snapped. “Hush up, Arika!”

“Leave off him.”

“Why should I?”

I was already regretting my intervention. “Because—I’m his tutor,” I stammered.

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re seriously considering tutoring him?”

“Obi, you’re such a nut,” East Keep said.

I clinched my books. Why hadn’t I just kept my mouth shut? Covington was the definitive queen of the class. More than that, I did not want to tutor the new kid.

“Arika, don’t do it,” Jetson warned. “You said yourself, you don’t have the time.”

I lifted my chin. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

With animated disgust, East Keep pinched the fat bridge of her nose and tipped at her pudgy waist, pretending to gag.

I ignored her. He was feet from us now. With his height and weight, he might have cut through the crowd. Instead, he flowed along with easy, efficient motions.

I stepped in his path.

He stopped, waited a beat, and looked up. “Excuse me—Arika. You are Arika, right?”

Surprise. His voice was smooth and cultured. “Uh, yeah,” I managed.

Hannibal and the West Keep twins, dressed identically in draped sheets of cloth called auras, had joined Jetson and the others, which meant the entire senior class was present as he surveyed each of us. His eyes settled on me.

“Didn’t you volunteer to share notes with me?”

I dropped his gaze, unnerved. In rough tunic and britches, he appeared so pathetic. I’d assumed he’d speak accordingly—’scuse me Ma’am, with a thick field-hand accent.

“No,” I said, finally, flatly. I stepped out of his way.

After a second, he strode past.

Covington and East Keep guffawed.

“So much for friendship!”

“And here I thought you’d be nice for once—guess not! Obi, Arika, that was mean.”

I ignored them, turning to follow him with my gaze. His skin was medium brown, like my own; and his dark hair, twisted in Keeper style, was tied back with a bambi thong. He held his back straight and his head high. Before he turned the corner, he looked back at me, his expression tense with curiosity.

Jetson tapped my temple playfully. “Helloo—Arika?”

“Arika!” Covington squawked.

Tearing my gaze from the new kid, I glanced briefly at her. “Huh?”

“Like I said, I want to make sure you’re coming to the meeting.”

I waved a hand as if swatting a mosquito. “I’m busy.”

“But it’s for the Committee.”

“The what?”