“I’m not giving you a choice,” Abelard said. “You’ll have plenty of time to prepare. But be ready in the spring.”

Han stuffed down more arguments, and nodded. “All right.”

Abelard still gazed at him, tapping her long fingernails on the desk blotter. “Alister, you are difficult to read. Clearly you carry wizard blood. You look like a pureblood. You haven’t mentioned your father. Is it possible your mother coupled with—”

“No,” Han said, suddenly desperate to get out of her presence. “It an’t possible. My father was a soldier, and he died in Arden.” He stood. “If there’s nothing else…”

“That’s all.” Abelard dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

“What happened with Dean Abelard?” Dancer asked when they left Fulgrim’s class and walked toward the dining hall.

“I’m out of Gryphon’s class till end of term,” Han said. “That’s just another week. She’ll get me back in for spring.”

Dancer nodded. “Could be worse.”

It is worse, Han thought. His head ached and swirled with worry.

“If you slept at Hampton, I could make sure you got up,” Dancer offered.

“It an’t your job to nanny me,” Han growled. He felt as fragile as a pane of glass, shattered into shards that no longer fit together.

“I’m your friend,” Dancer said, matching Han’s longer strides. “It’s my job to help you if I can. Like you would help me.”

Han sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Thank you. Maybe we can try that after winter break.”

Cat was waiting for them in front of the dining hall. Two or three times a week, at least, Han ate lunch with Cat and Dancer. At first he’d felt like a referee, deflecting Cat’s digs and insults. But that died down as Cat realized that slinging slurs at Dancer was unsatisfying. They just slid off him.

Cat seemed to be thriving. She’d stopped displaying her knives on the outside of her tunic, though Han knew she still had some hidden away. Her eyes were clear of turtleweed and razorleaf and the effects of too much drink.

I’m glad we convinced her to come here, Han thought. Whatever else happens, that’s one thing I did right.

Just now, Cat was all crinkle-faced, as if she had a secret she was bursting to tell, or a question she was dying to ask, but couldn’t decide how to spring it. They carried their plates over and sat at their usual table by the window.

Han didn’t have the energy to pry it out of her, so he ate his meal in silence, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand.