I nodded, knowing that was what he expected. Privately, I thought there was more to the Vine Keeper than met the eye. It wasn’t just his accent. He had a self-assuredness unheard of in workers. Also—his eyes. Where had I seen that particular shade of brown before?

“I mean, is it even fair to pit him against us at this juncture?” Jetson went on.

“Fair to whom?”

“To us, of course. I don’t care about him.”

We were at the library door and I stopped, impatient.

“Do you?” he said.

“Do I what?”

“Do you care?”

“About the Vine Keeper? Why would I?”

“For whatever reason you decided to tutor him when, lately, you won’t even stop to eat. You’re losing weight, Arika.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat.”

I lifted my chin. “Now you will excuse me—”

The library door opened behind us. Surprised, I spun around.

Teacher Purnell, the head librarian, stepped into the hall. She was a crabby woman given to blunt conversation. For years I courted her trust and, in return, she let me work late in the old section of the library. Just after the Compromise, the Tri-territory historical society had stocked the library with books that had survived the Last War. Later, when the library was transferred to the Headmistress’ purview, many of the original books were removed. The old section held what remained. As far as I could tell, I was the only student studious enough to use the old books to supplement my schoolwork. Teacher Purnell was mostly harmless, a stickler about one thing—speaking above a whisper.

“Teacher Purnell,” I said brightly.

She lowered her glasses. “You are supposed to be at noon meal.”

I smoothed a hand over my hair. “I—that is, I’m not hungry.”

“Stop shouting girl. Why aren’t you in the Main Hall?”

I lowered my voice. “I came to study in the library, alone.” I stepped away from Jetson.

She frowned.

“I have time,” I went on. “Perhaps we can discuss old-world transportation.” The subject fascinated her. She secretly spent hours constructing model trains.

“Are you an idiot?” she said, flatly. “Your kind need to feed in order to work.”

I looked down at my sandals. The stain on my blouse would be unbearable in the Main Hall. With the way I’d shown up Jetson in class, the others would be relentless. Even so, I nodded. “You’re right, Teacher. I wasn’t thinking.”

Her chin wobbled righteously. “Your kind are hot-blooded. I’ll be in the Hall later to check your clean plate.” She turned to leave.

“Teacher,” I said, impulsively stopping her. “I need to change my aura. If I go to my dorm before the Main Hall, I could miss lunch.”

She studied the ink blotch spreading on my shirt.

Jetson looked too.

I flushed.