Miona's Great Games: A Charmers' World, #2

By B.C. Roger

For Miona, defending the colors of her school in the national batteryrun tournament—the Great Games—was only a dream. This year the Games are being held in distant, crime-riddled Montahra, but Professor Musrol wants to enter Miona and her classmates in the selection process anyway.
Many obstacles will stand between Miona and her dream, the first being the school's dean, Ms. Bertahrat. Another is Maltor Poisonohl, who will stop at nothing to get her off their team.
But if she ever succeeds in dodging all the traps her enemies put in her way, she may just find herself far from the protection of her home or school, an easy target for a much sinister enemy…and end up in one of Montahra's jails?
Then, doing her best in the tournament might not be her main worry anymore. Would her new powers—with her incomplete training—be enough to get her out of her enemy's clutches? Because this time she wouldn't be able to ask her friends for help. Not with the secret mission she had been given.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B.C. Roger
• Release date: Sep 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201405083

Book preview

1 - PAINSTAKING PRACTICE

Miona was marching in place, stamping her feet against the Winter’s cold air while trying her best not to lose too much of Professor Musrol’s explanations. It wasn’t easy, considering the noise the plates of her batteryrun armor were making.

Stop rattling so loud, Fortvallor! We can’t hear a thing, Maltor Poisonohl hissed as he turned around. Next, he hit her in the ribs with the point of his battery saber, adding a loud clang to her rattling.

What was that? Professor Musrol boomed in an irritated voice.  Who’s making all that racket back there?

All the children looked in Miona’s direction, most half-fighting a smile that showed they welcomed the distraction. They were all huddled in a disorderly herd facing their Physical Education teacher.

It’s Fortvallor, sir, Poisonohl shouted. She keeps shaking her armor and we can’t hear you! The boy had a sarcastic smile as he added, It’s not her fault, sir. She’s cold, because she has no fur on her legs.

Snickers started near Poisonohl, spreading through his group until Professor Musrol cut them off with a raised hand. I don’t want to hear any physical jokes here, he snapped. I told you already, you are all different. Some are stronger, some are faster. Some aim better. Every one of you can make their team win. That’s all  that counts!

The teacher followed his outburst with a coughing fit that started a murmur of comments such as Hairball coming!, or Helmets back on!

So, he resumed, having recovered usage of his throat.

Not this time, sneered a white fur snooty girl close to Poisonohl, starting off a new series of muffled giggles.

So, as I was saying, I just saw some strange techniques in your Fort attacks. Seems like some people didn’t listen carefully when I first explained the tactic. Let me repeat, and this time please pay attention. He raised his voice one notch louder. In order to properly cut open a Fort formation, you need to concentrate your hits on one of the players that are acting as shields. If everyone hits separate shields, you will never cut through. Also, as the shields are huddled together, point hits are forbidden. A parried point hit could too easily end up in the face of the shield’s neighbor. Remember, this is not All-out Batteryrun. He looked heavily in the direction of Poisonohl and his friends.

A clamor rang on the other side of the field, and everyone turned to see what was going on.

Try to focus on your own matter, please! boomed Professor Musrol. What Professor Trakronuhr is doing with the other two teams is none of our business. Are you going to stop playing each time the other team’s supporters make a little noise?

Most students turned their attention back on the teacher.

Now, he resumed, smoothing his whiskers with both hands, as you attack the shield you want to push in, the shields that are on each side are going to defend him, or her. That’s why the attackers need to use the Wedge tactic. For those still not clear about the Wedge tactic, look at this! Here we have four players backing up the leader, two on each side, forming a triangle, so they can hold the two shields on each side of the target shield. Here and here.

Where that? asked Pera.

No idea, said Nandi.

He’s showing a diagram, Miona said. It shows the Fort’s shields and the Fort breakers.

Everyone sees? boomed Professor Musrol.

The two Pyrwondus were not the only ones having trouble seeing the portable whiteboard their teacher was holding in front of him, and muffled protests spread through the pack of children.

How come each time I’m explaining something, it’s always the same ones in front? he asked, furrowing his forehead and looking at Poisonohl and his friends.

Poisonohl’s three lieutenants stood next to him, and a few girls stood close by, ready to giggle at their jokes, and mock whomever Poisonohl and his gang chose to bully at a given time. Miona stood a few feet from Poisonohl, slightly behind and on his left. Like a good half of the class, she tried to stay away from the boy whenever she could, but she was always ready to step up if she needed, so she could follow the teacher’s demonstrations. Even if it meant standing right next to Poisonohl.

I want to see everyone! Professor Musrol commanded. As no one was moving, he added, Tall ones behind, short ones in front!

Junor Kendrar stepped up reluctantly, standing a good distance from the gang. Nandi moved up too. Miona looked on her left, and Pera returned her stare. I’m not short, the small Pyrwondu said defiantly. All he has to do is hold the board higher.  Torri Trobolihr turned around. She pulled Pera to her and stepped back in her place. There was no resisting the big Maruwan girl’s pull, and soon Professor Musrol could resume his explanation.

"Now, what could happen is that another shield could come off the back of the Fort and come to the attacked shield’s rescue, so a good idea if you have enough players close by, is to make two Wedges, and push them toward one another, like you’re trying to make them meet in the middle of the Fort. You’re not enough for that today, so you’ll do only one Wedge. Re-form your forts. Same scepter bearer inside the fort. You’ll switch after this run. Get set!"

Everyone ran to take up their position, and there was a great confusion on the field for a few moments. Miona gathered with five of her classmates, all surrounding Pera, who was carrying their scepter. They were barely settled in their place when Poisonohl showed up in front of her, flanked by Bludjan, Furriahr, Ratmatuhr, and a big Maruwan boy named Kohr, their helmets already on. Another fort had been formed a few strides away, with another wedge ready to attack it. Professor Musrol stood between the two formations, turning his head back and forth, his mouth closed on his whistle. Miona hurried to buckle her helmet.

All helmets on?

Yes, sir, Poisonohl shouted back.

Miona received a heavy hit on her just-attached helmet before she could hear Professor Musrol’s whistle, which came a split second after. By the time she had pulled her saber from under her arm, two other hits struck her shoulder plates, coming from Bludjan and Furriahr. The padded metal of the armor cut some of the pain, but the force of the blows nearly brought her down on her knees. She heard the gang’s cries of victory through the racket of sabers meeting armors all around her. Junor was on her left, facing Ratmatuhr and Furriahr, and Torri was on her right, pitted against Bludjan and the Maruwan boy. Their role, now, was to resist the assault of their direct opponent while keeping Bludjan and Furriahr’s attention away from her, so she wouldn’t have to battle three players at once. A strong hit on Bludjan coming from Torri allowed Miona to jump back on her feet and place a good hit on Furriahr’s shoulder after diverting Poisonohl’s sword. She saw Junor taking advantage of Furriahr’s momentary retreat to hit Ratmatuhr’s arms really hard.

Unfortunately, the Maruwan boy managed to keep Torri too busy for her to divert enough of Bludjan’s attention, and soon Miona fell down under the hits of Poisonohl and his two lieutenants. The instant she was back down on the hard and cold ground, Pera sent a few hits on Poisonohl and broke away from the fort, carrying the scepter to safety. Soumaya, Nandi and Carmela followed to protect her, forming an incomplete fort. Torri followed to help them, with the Maruwan boy in tow close behind. Ratmatuhr and Furriahr tried to run after the four girls too, but Junor managed to delay them for a few seconds. When he too fell down, they took off in Pera’s pursuit.

A long whistle rang out, and everyone froze and looked up. The field, which had been filled with clanking noises moments before, became nearly quiet, except for the distant battle sounds from Professor Trakronuhr’s teams.

There was some other clanking going on, though, because Poisonohl and Bludjan were still busy hitting Miona, who was defending herself on the ground, trying to get back up. Professor Musrol blew another long note.

What do you two think you are doing? he shouted.

The two boys froze, finally realizing the game was stopped. Miona jumped back to her feet. Poisonohl brought his saber down slowly, looking at the teacher and all the students arriving behind him. We were holding her down, sir…. So our team could catch the scepter.

She’s a handful, sir, Bludjan completed, lowering his sword as well. Better keep her here, off our team’s backs.

Professor Musrol closed his eyes and took a deep breath, visibly fighting to keep his quiet. "First, this isn’t a real game, this is a Fort practice. You’re supposed to stay close to the fort and keep trying to break it until you manage to get to the bearer and take the scepter. Second, if it were a real game, you two would be out with a penalty for your team. Like I said earlier, this isn’t All-out batteryrun. You’re supposed to stay with the game, follow the scepter. This isn’t even University or Major League Batteryrun, where you could hit a fallen player—one time only—if he or she isn’t the scepter bearer. This isn’t even Senior League, where you could hit a fallen bearer—and only once. You guys are in Cubs League. Which means you aren’t allowed to hit a player on the ground—period."

Too complicated for them, sir, Miona said while taking off her helmet. They have pea brains, and on top of it, they always cheat at everything!

This kind of cheating will bring them back to the locker room, fast, Professor Musrol said, bouncing off the girl’s comment. "Your lot must learn the rules, or decide once and for all to respect them…. There’s something else you need to do, too: start playing as one team and stop your petty quarrels. You managed to win the first few inter-school games you played, I grant you that. But those were only pre-selection games. They’re designed to help all teachers build the teams that will defend their school’s colors in the real Inter-School Games. Only the best teams of each state will compete in the Interstates Tournament in Montahra. You see you have a long way to go, and the teams you’ve played against until now are beginners like you. They haven’t learned the tactics I’m trying to teach you here. But they will. And when everyone gets better at those, the teams that will move to the top will be those who have learned to play together.’

‘And on that issue, you have a lot to learn. I noticed many foul plays among you. Those could not only lose you many moves to the other team, it could also earn you many jail cards from the referees. You’re all pretty good with your swords, but if you can’t bring yourselves to play together as a real team, you’ll never make it to the Tournament! He turned around and said louder so all students could hear, We’ll do a different practice right now. Instead of two forts and two wedges, we’ll train with only one fort, but with more players around it like in a real game, twelve against twelve. I’ll make the teams."

A few minutes—and several arguments—later, Miona looked warily around her. She was again a shield, part of a fort, with Nandi holding the scepter. But this time she wasn’t facing Poisonohl and his gang. She had Poisonohl on one side, and Ratmatuhr on the other, all within the fort! Twelve other players were surrounding them loosely, because Professor Musrol had forbidden them from assembling in wedges until he’d blown the whistle. Junor was behind her, surrounding Nandi with Carmela and Soumaya, all three forming an inner ring of shields ready to take over in case the first wall of the fort caved in.

Professor Musrol brought his whistle to his mouth. I’ll be watching you closely, he warned Poisonohl and his cohorts. Then he blew his whistle.

The clanking started over, even before any wedge had formed. Just the armors rubbing against one another while all the shields tried to move in the direction of the fort’s king were noisy enough. Miona focused on sidestepping while not leaving any hole in the fort, keeping her saber up against any attacker.

But nobody showed up to attack her. Nor did anyone try to attack Poisonohl or Ratmatuhr. When a louder clanking started, she understood that two wedges had been formed. One was pushing on Ratmatuhr’s right, against Pera. She could hear the other somewhere behind her, but couldn’t see who it was aimed at. Pera couldn’t hold her ground for more than a few seconds. Then Junor had to take over, with Nandi and the scepter right behind him. Miona turned around to help him, and noticed that Ratmatuhr was defending rather weakly against the wedge point, who she recognized was Irrita Sostukep, a snooty girl most vocal among their clique.

A clatter similar to a pile of pans falling from a kitchen counter made her look beyond Nandi. Whoever was defending on that side had just collapsed, dragging along two attackers, as well as Soumaya. A clamor of roars and screams followed, and Professor Musrol ran around to that side of the fort.

A shout from Junor made Miona turn her attention back to the action closer to her, and she saw that both Ratmatuhr and Poisonohl were hitting Junor instead of defending him against Irrita Sostukep. Miona threw her sword forward and blocked their sabers. Junor took advantage of the break to place two good hits on Sostukep, who retreated behind Ratmatuhr. Furriahr replaced Sostukep and hit Junor hard on a shoulder. Miona had just placed two hits on Poisonohl and Ratmatuhr, and was turning to face Furriahr when something hit her hard in the ribs. She just had time to see a boot, attached to Irrita Sostukep’s white leg, before collapsing onto Junor, taking him down in her fall. She felt several painful hits on her back and left arm while trying to get up without hurting Junor further. She had only managed to half-stand when she glimpsed Bludjan and Furriahr joining forces to push Torri and Pera onto them, and she fell back on Junor again in another great clatter.

Reform the fort! Professor Musrol yelled amid the clamor. On your feet, everyone! A long note from his whistle followed soon, which Miona felt truly glad for. Stand up, all of you, she heard him say amid the scraping and clanking of armor while she tried to disentangle herself from the heap of sabers and limbs around her.

Not too promising, the teacher went on somberly. A lot of confusing actions—moves were not very clean. The fort hasn’t moved more than three strides at the most. He checked his watch. Unfortunately we won’t have time for another go today, he said in a more upbeat tone. Gather your things, and to your lockers. He drew another long note from his whistle, echoing a similar sound from Professor Trakronuhr on the other side of the field. Lots of practice ahead, I’d say!

On their way to the locker rooms, Miona was walking wearily at the end of the herd of students, fully aware of the weight of her gear, and making a mental account of all her bruises. She startled when Poisonohl shouldered her in a clank of their armors. You need to be more careful and stay on your feet, little slave, he sneered quietly in her ear. You’re worrying me, you know. You’ll be all broken up into pieces before the tournament.

2 - ON THE FLUTTERCATCH COURSE

Two grown-up men were walking slowly on the well-tended lawn, pulling their carts without a word. The younger had a short, evenly brown fur, and a sports suit showing a patchwork of bright greens, browns, and yellows. The older’s fur showed dark stripes on a rather light base, but his sports suit had many patches of red and pink aside from the greens and yellows. Both were looking around (them) at the exotic trees and flowers, taking in the soothing quality of the place.

The songs of a few birds and the buzzing of flying insects would have been the only sounds to reach their ears—aside from the dampened voices of three small groups of men in similarly colorful clothes, pulling carts at a good distance—if it were not for a faint but persistent squeaking. Only four other men could be seen under the high glass ceiling. All were wearing dark suits that couldn’t fully hide the weapons they were carrying. A pair of them stood not far from the closer group of players. Another pair was following the two men, many strides behind. At one point the younger of the two men—already in his fifties—stopped and kicked one of his cart’s wheels.

Apologies, my Kerl. I should have rejected this cart. The annoying wheel doesn’t seem to want to stop its noise.

Never mind, your Hoherald. It doesn’t bother me.

It’s louder than the noisiest of those southern birds this place is filled with! the younger man said, resuming his walk.

Perhaps. But it won’t stop me from enjoying a good game of fluttercatch. Your late father kept reminding me to focus on the bright side of things…. How much did we decide for the bets today?

I don’t think we set them yet, my Kerl.

Not that I really mind, as you know. I’ve always played for the fun of it.

Likewise, Krant. Let’s set the point at a hundred crowns, like it’s the custom here I believe.

Sounds good, your Hoherald. Hundred a point. How long the round?

Your call, my Kerl…. But I don’t want to overdo it. I need to go back to work in one piece. The Emperor laughed heartily.

The older man laughed also. Four minutes the round, then? I shouldn’t push it either, at my age. And as I’m the one inviting you today, you should get to go first. Why not start here? He gestured toward a large bush of bright yellow flowers.

They both stopped and pulled each a long pole from their carts. Each pole ended with a small net. Its size was targeted toward the southern flutters. It was large enough to catch the flutters without damaging them, but small enough to force the players to be very accurate, and swift. The large southern flutters were preferred to smaller local ones, because they were easy to spot from the tribunes during a fluttercatch tournament.

The Emperor pressed a button on the handle of his net, and several segments of the metallic pole shot out of the handle, bringing the small net so high that it appeared way too tiny to catch any of the large flutters that could be seen fluttering amid the flowers. The Emperor pressed the button again and the net jumped back to its initial position, not more than one stride from his hand. "I hope the flutters won’t decide to go wander to the top of the trees. Or else I’ll be a few crowns lighter soon. These nets are tiny!"

And hard to maneuver at this distance. I seldom unfold them their full length…. Whenever you wish, your Kerlship.

Start counting, Krant, I’m ready. And I see my first catch right over there.

The older man pressed the button of a large stopwatch while the Emperor darted toward a large red and green flutter, flitting about a large vase full of flowers, which was hanging from a tree at a respectable height. He unfolded his net again and swerved it at the flutter, which disappeared behind the tree in a flicker of its wings. The Emperor cursed under his breath and pressed the button of his handle while darting to a large bush of flowers where a small group of yellow flutters were busy hovering around.

Four minutes later, the Emperor walked back to the carts, a satisfied smile on his brownish face. He pulled a netted basket off his shoulder and showed it to the older man.

I’m impressed, your Hoherald. Three flutters on your first round! I’m not sure I brought enough crowns with me! He laughed and opened the netted compartment of the Emperor’s cart, so the younger man could empty his basket. My turn, now. He adjusted the straps of his own basket, pressed twice on the handle of his net to make sure it worked, and pulled his cart ten strides away. Then he turned toward the Emperor. Ready, he said, eyes locked on a large blue flutter, just three strides from him. At the Emperor’s command, he lounged with his net forward.

He missed by a hair and swerved his net again, running behind the flutter. Four new minutes later, the Emperor’s call rang out, and he walked back slowly to meet the brown fur man, who was pulling both carts toward him.

I hope you didn’t miss that blue flutter just to stay behind me, my Kerl. I’d resent it.

That big one was too quick for me, your Hoherald. I had less trouble with these two pink ones. He pushed his basket inside his cart and opened it, making sure the basket was blocking the cart’s door. Two bright pink flutters flew out of the basket, and he removed it swiftly, and closed the cart’s netted door. I could use a cool drink now, your Kerlship, if you agree.

Great idea. This southern weather is killing me. The Emperor pulled a small microphone from the top of his cart and flicked a switch on it. We need refreshments, please, he simply said, before hanging the microphone back up. Then he undid a few clips on the side of the cart, and unfolded a light outdoor chair that he placed next to his cart, facing the one the older man had already unfolded. That’s better, he said, sitting down with satisfaction.

While we wait for our drinks, the older man started, rubbing his striped cheek mechanically, I need to speak to you about a certain issue that was brought to my attention.

Yes?

The Kandrahar Islands.

What about them?

I was told there is a plan to get Kandrahar back. The older man waited for the Emperor’s reaction. There was none. This idea worries some people greatly. The older man didn’t say anything more. He just watched his interlocutor intently. The Emperor broke the silence after a moment.

And how did your…contact learn about such a plan, if we assume there was one?

I wasn’t told that.

Do I know him?

Them.

Oh. The Emperor held the older man’s gaze. So, do I know any of them, then?

The older man shifted in his folding chair, as if he didn’t feel comfortable in it anymore. He breathed deeply once. Some you do know. Others, you know of. All are powerful people.

"How many are they? Do they have anything to do with…the Council?"

The…council? Which council?

You know…this so-called Council that’s at the center of all these rumors.

Rumors?

"You cannot not have heard of it…. Powerful men supposedly able to dictate their rules to everyone here.  Some say even to the Emperor.

"Oh, that Council! I heard those rumors, yes. They’ve been around for some time. But have you or your secret police found anything on such a group, your Kerlship?… Again the older man waited for the Emperor’s answer, in vain. If you haven’t, then I’d say that this…Council…doesn’t exist."

"But some…people asked you to speak to me. Powerful people, you said."

Powerful people, yes. But no council. No set group of people. But as you know, powerful people do talk to each others sometimes. They meet in clubs.

Our club?

And others. I belong to several, as you do.

These people…why didn’t they speak to me directly?

I was chosen…because of my ties with your father. These made me closer to you than them. Also, they knew I had occasional games here with you….

Both men turned their head toward the building at the entrance to the glasshouse. A waiter had been stopped by the two Imperial guards closest to the building, who proceeded to search his tricycle.

So, my Kerl, the Emperor said, returning to the conversation, what did they ask you to do, these powerful people?

They merely want to be reassured that there is no set plan on Kandrahar.

And what would happen if you don’t reassure them?

I don’t wish to sound too dramatic, your Kerlship. But it would be very…unfortunate.

Unfortunate? You mean for me, don’t you?

The older man shifted in his chair again. There have been precedents in history, your Hoherald. Occurrences. Unfortunate occurrences…. Where Emperors’ families have been ruined. Also where Emperors have fallen ill….

This does sound like a threat, Krant. On the Emperor…I’m surprised.

Oh, no, not a threat, your Hoherald! I’m sorry I make it sound so bad. No such a threat was formulated…. I’m just relaying…worries. You know, old people like me tend to revisit the past, and we are prone to worrying. For little or no reason.

The waiter had been cleared, and was zooming on the lawn in their direction. The fat wheels were turning fast, and the two men could now hear the refreshing sound of bottles clinking joyously. Soon he stopped and opened the top of his cart. Good afternoon, Gentlemen. What will it be for you? I have great shakes today, made with fresh bulldoz milk. I also have crushed ice drinks, and all the usual drinks. I even have plain chilled water. Anything you want.

The Emperor spoke first. What will you have, Krant?

Chilled water will be perfect, please, the older man said to the waiter. I shouldn’t have anything too heavy while I exert myself.

Very wise of you, my Kerl, the Emperor said. He stroked his whiskers twice, then addressed the waiter. As for me, I’ll have one of your shakes, please.

The waiter served them promptly and left just as fast as he had arrived, zooming back across the lawn.

Both men sipped their drinks in silence for a few seconds. Then the older man said, You know, your Kerlship, you don’t have to give me any answer today. My contacts are patient people…. And if you want to stop the game now and return to your office, I’ll understand.

Not at all, my Kerl. There are plenty of flutters waiting for us. I’m having a great time. He drew a long sip from his bulldoz shake. And you can tell your…friends, that there isn’t any definite plan to do anything in Kandrahar. There are many theories thrown about in my office during brainstorming sessions, but nothing on Kandrahar has been set. You can reassure them on that. He downed the rest of his glass and set it back on the small folding table the waiter had left behind for them. Then he stood and dabbed at his mouth and whiskers with his lace handkerchief. Now let’s go on with this game, shall we, my Kerl? I’ll remind you that you are 100 crowns behind!

3 - DINING HALL MESS

Miona had a bad feeling about this meal from the start.

First, Miss Bertahrat stopped her and her friends with her crop as they were reaching the dining hall’s door. Agreed, they had been running and laughing, and Miss Bertahrat hated that kind of behavior above all. But running was forbidden in the hallways inside, not outside. Nevertheless, she held them aside until all other children had entered the hall.

As a consequence, they found themselves at the last table. And sure enough, Miss Bertahrat walked back to them after she’d made a quick survey of the hall. Get up, all of you, she snapped, hitting the table with her switch. There are a few incomplete tables to fill. Follow me.

Miona looked around at her friends as they all jumped to their feet. She knew Miss Bertahrat didn’t appreciate her and was always looking for an occasion to punish her, but no one seemed to want to argue with the imposing woman, so she decided to speak up. "But our table is complete, Miss. Why not use an incomplete table to fill other incomplete ones?" Which seemed to make perfect sense to her.

Miss Bertahrat turned around and sized her up severely. One more word from you, young lady, and I’ll give you a taste of this. She held up her crop. Have your legs already forgotten what a good whipping feels like? She looked past Miona and barked, And you, put that down at once!

Miona turned around and saw Torri standing frozen by their table’s end, one arm behind her back. The big Maruwan girl hurriedly put back a patty on the table’s dish. Miona understood her, although she didn’t share Torri’s taste for the spicy worm and slug cake. But whenever you had to complete a table, it meant that you’d be placed at the end of it. And that you had a big chance of leaving the table hungry.

Torri and Miona caught up with the rest of their friends, all following the tall Human. Miona cursed inwardly against the Dean. She was the one who had changed the rules. Before, students sat at the same table every day, the table they had chosen with their best friends. That’s what she’d been told when she arrived at Krandlinohr. Whenever there were ill students, or last minute class schedule changes, there were many empty seats, scattered throughout the dining hall. The Dean always tried to fill those seats, but when she wasn’t watching the meal, prefects or teachers replacing her didn’t bother to get all the seats filled. So this year she succeeded in getting the rules changed, supposedly to save food.

Now students had to fill all the tables as they entered the hall, starting with the farthest ones. As a result, there was only one incomplete table—the last. Another result was that there was a lot of jostling, as no one wanted to be at the last table, and everyone was still trying to be with their friends. The one thing that didn’t change: older kids still sat at the head of tables, and younger or weaker ones at the end. Also, a few tables always had empty seats, when no one wanted to sit with the students already there. Unsurprisingly, Poisonohl’s table was one of them.

And it was true today too. Fortvallor, Mahrao, sit at this table, the Dean commanded, pointing at the two last seats of the gang’s table. And there better not be any trouble here, she said menacingly. She had placed several of Miona’s friends at other tables already, and walked on down the hall, motioning Torri to follow her.

Miona ignored Poisonohl’s joyful grin and proceeded to the last seat, squeezing behind Bludjan, who was sitting improperly as usual, his chair too far from the table. The thought of hitting his chair crossed her mind, but she dropped the idea—she was just as hungry as Torri.

She sat down, and Pera sat across from her. They exchanged a long look, then glanced at the dish of worm and slug cakes sitting in the middle of the table, between the gang and two Maruwan boys. Can you guys please pass the cakes down here? Pera asked the two boys.

The one closest to her reached for the dish, but Bludjan grabbed a cake before he could take it. I don’t think our friend Miona likes those too much. I don’t want them to go to waste, he told the Maruwan. Then he grinned at his friends and licked his lips.

You scum, put that down! Pera said. There was only one cake left in the dish now.

Bludjan guffawed, echoed by his three friends, and he took a big bite out of the cake.

It’s all right, Pera, Miona urged under her breath. Take it, take the last one. Then she shook her head when she saw Pera starting to cut the cake in half. He’s right, you know. I don’t care much for those slug cakes. Go ahead and eat it. I’ll have enough with the stew.

The main dish was a fish stew, and two cook helpers—a short Pyrwondu boy and a big Maruwan girl—were just rolling a cart out of the kitchens. There was a large pot in the center of the cart, and two piles of large serving bowls next to it. The cook helpers stopped the trolley by their table. The Maruwan girl filled a bowl with a large ladle, and the Pyrwondu boy placed it between Poisonohl and Ratmatuhr. The bowl was nearly overflowing with fish and vegetables, sticking out of a steamy sauce. Miona could smell the fragrant scent from her end of the table.

Poisonohl dug into the dish first. He piled a good amount of fish and vegetables in his own bowl, then took a little more sauce and passed the serving spoon to Ratmatuhr, who did just the same before passing the spoon to Furriahr next to him. Furriahr helped himself just as generously, then handed the spoon to Bludjan, who had just swallowed the last bite of his slug cake. Bludjan paused a moment, seemingly to assess how much he could take while leaving enough for the rest of the table. Then he proceeded to serve himself, piling up in his bowl even more than his friends had—and spilling plenty of sauce on the table. After the two Maruwans were served, there was only a spoonful of vegetables left in the serving bowl, with still a good amount of sauce.

Go ahead, Poisonohl said joyfully, "take the rest of the sauce, we have enough. Don’t pass on the sauce, definitely. That’d be a shame. The Headmistress says the chef is a master sauce