His eyes snapped open to Sviya shaking him. "Didn't you hear the bell?" She scowled at him as his brain emerged from its fog. "Up, up. It's time for athletics, and we'll want to get there early."
She practically dragged him to the library door, and he stowed his book on a random shelf as they passed.
They parted in the crush of students, but he followed her midnight curls through the halls, tracking her to a large room that other people from their classes were pouring into. The ceiling rose higher here than in any other room M'yu had ever seen. Large circles were scored into the floor, forming rows and rows of rings lined up. It made the ground look like a life-size table of dominoes, but he didn't suppose Caps were much of ones for back-alley betting.
The students poured past the rows and toward doors at the back, one marked for girls and the other for boys. A short, muscled man stood on a podium, hand on the pommel of a sheathed sword. "Go get suited up!" he called, and the students moved in double-time.
M'yu joined the flow of the boys. Inside the room were rows of LMS suits, all hanging on racks. Opposite that were curtained-off stalls that boys disappeared into after snagging one of the gleaming metal rigs.
M'yu waited for a moment, trying to see if they had some way of marking whose suit was whose. Finding no discernable pattern, M'yu grabbed his LMS and took off into one of the stalls.
LMS suits were only partial. In fact, he would've thought they looked downright flimsy if he didn't know what they could do. Metal wires ran down the inside of his arms, curling around his shoulders and joining the spine piece at the neck. The spine ran down the back and circled the waist like a belt. M'yu strapped his on now, the way Aevryn had shown him yesterday. The metal rested cool against his skin. At the end of the right arm, the tip converged into a metal button that fit in the palm of his hand.
This suit was made with extendable pieces, unlike Aevryn's custom-made rig that he'd lent M'yu yesterday. That one hadn't fit quite right, the man being as tall as he was and all. Now when he pulled his clothes on over, the metal hardly showed through the fabric. The only thing visible was the small button on his right palm that activated the field.
His hand patted the linkcard in his coat, making sure it was secure before pushing past the curtain. The other boys' coats were piled up in the corner, and M'yu bit his lip. It would be more suspicious if he took his, and more likely to get confiscated. And no matter what else happened today, he could not lose that linkcard.
He left the coat in the pile and hurried after the other boys.
In the gymnasium, some of the other students paired off and chose a ring together. Others sat on wooden bleachers, chatting with each other. M'yu glanced around the room, and Sviya waved him over.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder, too tight to be friendly. "I thought perhaps you and I might practice together," Ruslan said.
M'yu swallowed and turned.
He hadn't been impressed with Ruslan's fighting skills up until now, but there was something in the way he carried himself as he sauntered toward a ring that left M'yu unsettled. His head pounded with the demand to sleep, so he shut the headache up by prodding the sore in his mouth. Pain flared hot through his cheek, and he shook off the wince.
"Are you coming?" Ruslan called.
M'yu stepped into the ring.
The athletics teacher called out rules to them in a voice that said he'd made this speech too many times already. The grey hair around his wrinkled temple reinforced that point, and M'yu swallowed hard, trying to keep up with the monotonous drone.
He went on about some point of technique that M'yu couldn't wrap his mind around, then passed out their foils. "Remember," he called, "these aren't as heavy as real blades. The LMS fields warp them to the side even more, so if you're aiming, you'll have to compensate by arcing wider than you're expecting. Alright?" He handed M'yu his weapon, and M'yu's eyes traced the glittering length.
It wasn't a real blade. It wasn't six inches long and coated in blood. It was a rich man's toy, just like his mother had been to the Vulture—
"On your mark!" the coach called.
Ruslan set, foot pointed out and shoulders angled. M'yu scrambled to get into a defensive position, lowering his center of mass with a crouch.
"Meet your match," the coach called again.
Ruslan's sword tipped down to tap the very end of M'yu's.
"Set your fields!"
Around the room, everyone pressed the button on their palms. The room hummed to life with a hundred miniature electromagnetic fields. M'yu pressed his button, and the hair on the back of his neck rose. The field hummed through his right arm, electrifying the air around his sword and following up around his torso.
"Now fight clean!"
Ruslan's sword danced through the air, knocking M'yu's away. The field of M'yu's LMS followed the drag of the sword, he staggered back, and Ruslan took a wild swing at his torso. The blade arced so wide that M'yu just knew it was going to miss, but somehow, it curved in at the last second, striking a hit against him. The foil tip pierced his skin, and a tiny bead of blood drew through his shirt.
"Wear it with honor," Ruslan sneered. He swung again at M'yu, and M'yu ducked low, not even bothering to try to block. "Coward!" Ruslan hissed.
M'yu tried to back out of the sparring circle but ran smack into an invisible wall. Glancing down, he realized there were magnets inset into the scored-out ring. A shimmering force distorted the outside world, traveling up for about ten feet.
M'yu ducked at the last second, Ruslan's blade whistling past him. One of his curls snagged on the metal, and M'yu twisted so the blade didn't catch his shoulder.
"Are you going to fight, or are you just going to run?" Ruslan taunted.
M'yu raised his blade, realizing he had no idea what to do with it. It was too long, awkward, and thin to pretend it was a knife. He swung, and Ruslan held his blade still in the air, just to the left, not even bothering to parry M'yu. M'yu's blade aimed straight at Rusland's torso, and—
Slipped wide. The magnetic field pushed the sword away, making it arc the same direction that Ruslan's blade pointed to. M'yu swung again, and Ruslan shifted the tip just slightly the other way. M'yu's blade slid to the right now, skimming harmlessly around Ruslan. M'yu drew his sword back up, holding it crossways so he could strike out if necessary.
"How cute," Ruslan crooned. "You think you need to parry me. Goodness, you think you can parry me." And that was the last bit of conversation M'yu got before the sword flashed like lightning, never landing where M'yu expected, curving and dancing and slipping through the LMS into his skin. M'yu panted, each of Ruslan's swings landing another tiny prick. Blood trickled down his stomach as he ducked and weaved, desperate to escape the onslaught of the foil.
"You think you're so clever, don't you?" The sword swung at M'yu's neck. M'yu ducked, but Ruslan flicked the blade to the other side and scratched him anyway. "Do you think that I'm blind? I told you"—his sword flurried, and M'yu ran and slid across the floor to escape it—"to stay away from Svi."
"Ruslan, I—"
"Shut up!"
The blade came at him again, and M'yu rolled through the circle, popping to his feet. Around the room, through the shimmer, fifty other heated battles raged on.
"No one's going to save you, snipe." Ruslan thrust full force at his stomach. Desperate, M'yu threw his blade wide to block.
The blades missed, but the LMS field shifted with M'yu's sword, and Ruslan's tip slipped wide.
"Don't worry," Ruslan leered. "I won't let that happen twice." He shifted his footing, murder in his eyes and sword raised for a second thrust.
M'yu rolled across the floor just as Ruslan jammed his sword across the ring. Jumping up, M'yu hurled his sword through the air. The foil wobbled as it passed over the top of the magnetic field, flipped over its end, then rocketed out across the gym straight toward the coach.
The pommel hit him in the head, and he whirled, face red. "Halt!" he shouted. Across fifty fights, everyone froze. The coach scooped the sword up, shaking it in the air. "Who threw this?"
M'yu started to raise his hand, and Ruslan grabbed hold of his wrist. "Don't you dare," he hissed.
"Do I need to start counting swords?" he roared. "Who. Threw. Their. Weapon?"
"Me, sir," M'yu called.
The coach's blazing eyes landed on M'yu. He jabbed a button and the magnets generating the force fields ground to a halt. One condemning finger beckoned.
M'yu came forward. When Ruslan made to come after him, the coach bellowed, "Did I ask for you, Truska?"
Ruslan froze, and M'yu hurried across the court. The coach grabbed a fistful of M'yu's hair and held up the foil. "Does this look like a spear to you, boy?"
"No, sir," M'yu stuttered.
The coach shook his hand, rattling M'yu's head. "Then why on all of this white-winter world would you lob it across the gymnasium?"
M'yu swallowed, fairly sure no amount of fast-talking was going to get him out of this one.
The coach shoved him away. Tearing out a note, he wrote something down, then smacked it into M'yu's palm. "Take this to the office. Now."
M'yu dipped his head and hurried out of the gymnasium. Clipping down the long halls, he ducked into the HONORABLE OFFICES and handed the coach's note to Ms. Parra. Hidden from the nose down by the counter, she looked over its top at him and sighed. "Duke z'Daras is not going to be happy about this. Take a seat."
"What, um." M'yu sat where she'd pointed. "What did it say?" He bit his lip, feeling like an idiot for not having read it.
Parra sighed again. "It says that you are expelled for the day."
"Oh." That wasn't so bad, except he'd miss history, as well as his first real law class of the week.
"Don't sound so chipper," Ms. Parra said. "If you accumulate three of those, then you are expelled permanently. Not to mention Duke z'Daras is going to have to come retrieve you, which I assure you will be most inconvenient. He does important work in the law, you know." She nodded smartly and tapped something into her console.
M'yu fiddled with his finger. "What... what exactly does he do?"
Her nose wrinkled. "I should think his apprentice would know."
"We haven't exactly gotten to that part yet."
"Ah. Well, I don't suppose he'd mind me educating you a bit. And maybe knowing will help you keep in mind to behave better." Her eye cut over the counter. "Do you think?"
"Very much," M'yu promised.
"Well, then." She shuffled some papers on her desk, voice growing fond. "He's the Tsaright's second-in-command, you know. The Minister of Linkcards. He's over all of the card systems, maintaining everything and prosecuting anyone that abuses the system."
M'yu choked. "He is?"
"Yes. See, aren't you proud to have such an important teacher?"
"Very proud," M'yu muttered, mind racing.
"Good. Now, you sit there and think about what you've done and how not to do it again." The bun on her head wobbled as she nodded once more, and the room was filled with the clicking of her nails against her console.
M'yu waited for a long time. The bell rang and rang again. He was beginning to wonder if he'd be stuck here in the office all day when an icy frame appeared in the doorway. "Ms. Parra." Aevryn nodded sharply to her, and she waved at him.
"I've already told him how wrong he was to do it," she said helpfully. "Don't be too harsh with him."
"Oh, don't worry. I have big plans for this boy." He smiled, and her shoulders perked up. M'yu jammed his hands in his pockets, fingernails digging into his skin. "Come, boy," Aevryn said.
M'yu rose and followed him out of the offices. They'd just made it to the outer door when a light clicked on in his tired brain. "My coat!"
"You'll survive one day without it," Aevryn growled, but M'yu turned on his heel and ran back down the hallway.
"Boy!" Aevryn growled, but M'yu ran harder, skidding around the corner. Tracing his way back to the gymnasium, he peeked in. He sighed, grateful to find it empty, and ran to the changing room. His coat was the only one left, and he ran his hand through his pockets. Someone had stolen the pencils he'd had there. His own linkcard was also missing, but right now, the only thing he cared about was—
He jammed his hand into the hidden pocket and was greeted with the smooth metal of Ruslan's linkcard. M'yu sighed, dragged his hand out, and hurried back to the front of the building.
When M'yu came back to the front, Aevryn caught his wrist in an iron grip. "Must I treat you like a child?" he hissed. "You cannot run off like that." Aevryn yanked the school door open and prodded M'yu through. "Hover. Now."