Han knew better than to push her. “That must be the Temple School,” he said, pointing to a stone building with soaring towers just across the quad. “It is close. Let’s stop at our dormitory and take a look at your crib. Then get something to eat.”

Hampton Hall looked to be one of the oldest buildings on campus—a four-story stone structure shaded by massive oak trees, the stone walkway worn down by the tread of millions of feet over thousands of years.

The common room smelled of damp wool and wood smoke. Two students hunched over a table next to the fire, playing royals and commons. They looked up as Han, Dancer, and Cat entered, running their gaze over the three of them. Wrinkling their blueblood noses, they returned to their game.

The dorm master Dilbert Blevins was a middle-aged, harried-looking individual with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose, who acted as though they’d come late on purpose.

“I’m warning you, boys, there’s not much left, so I don’t want to hear you complaining about it,” he said, as soon as they introduced themselves. “I heard enough complaining already.” His fishy gaze slid over Cat, her duffel bag over one shoulder, her basilka slung across the other. “You can’t be having girlies up in your rooms,” he said.

“We know,” Han said, thinking they might as well be living in the temple. “She promised to…help us arrange things.”

“Hmmpfh,” Blevins said. “Well, if she’s going up, I’m going up with you.” He eyed their spare belongings. “That’s it? Well, least you didn’t bring everything you own, like some people.”

That’s where you’re wrong, Han thought. This is everything I own.

Blevins handed Han and Dancer each a stack of books and thrust bundles of linens into their faces. He led the way up a steep staircase that wound up and up. On each landing, a narrow window pierced the thick stone, admitting the smeared, dismal light the rain allowed. Rendered clumsy by the weight of multiple bags, Han nearly stumbled over the uneven steps.

All the way up, Blevins kept up a continual litany of complaints, mostly about students with high expectations.

Han steeled himself for the worst. No matter how bad it is, he thought, I’ll make it work. I won’t spend much time in my room anyway.

The stairway to the fourth floor was even narrower than the previous three, as if the top floor had been an attic now converted into living space. The landing was roomier on this floor, but the ceilings at either end of the hallway sloped under the peaked roof.