“What part?”
“Um . . . the actual duel.”
“Well, it depends, I suppose.” Lyle looked confused. “Styles change and all that. Personally, I find the performance is more important.”
“We’re supposed to be practising for the tournament today,” the Sikh boy said. He sounded unfriendly.
“Oh.” Lyle looked around. “Well, um . . . yes, maybe a practice match then.” Lyle glanced quickly over Luna, then pointed to the other two girls. “Natasha and, um, Anne. Why don’t you go first.”
The round-faced girl, Natasha, looked at Anne in anticipation. Anne bowed her head slightly to Lyle. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Natasha made a rude noise and the boy with glasses rolled his eyes. “Oh God, not this again.”
“Er . . .” Lyle looked taken aback. “Is there some medical reason—”
“No, she’s fine,” Natasha chipped in. “She just won’t do it.”
“Anne?” Lyle said. “Is there a reason?”
“I’m sorry,” Anne said again. She had a soft, quiet voice. “I don’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“It’s nothing to do with trouble,” Lyle said with a frown. “Unless you or your master can give a good reason, you’re required to participate.”
Anne didn’t answer. “All right then,” Lyle said, gesturing to the centre of the hall. “Off you go.”
No response. “Anne?” Lyle said irritably. “Did you hear me?”
Anne stood silently, looking back at Lyle. “This is an order,” Lyle declared, pointing to the mats. “Get over there and participate.”
Anne still didn’t move and Lyle was left standing with one arm outstretched. He looked vaguely ridiculous and everyone else in the room was watching him. Lyle hesitated, then lowered his arm quickly. “Anne, will you do as you’re told, please?” It was probably supposed to sound authoritative, but it came out more like a pleading.
Anne shook her head mutely. “Oh, this is such crap,” Natasha said angrily. “How come she gets to do this?”
“Just do the duel already,” the other boy said.
“Yes, er . . .” Lyle said. “I need to impress upon you the seriousness of this. Refusing a direct order from an authorised teacher is—”
“Why don’t you guys ever do anything about her?” Natasha demanded. “She always does this and you always let her get away with it.”
“Leave her alone,” Luna said.
“You stay out of this.”
“What makes it your business?” Luna said. “You want a duel so badly, try me.”
“I don’t have to—” Natasha started saying angrily. The boy with glasses started to talk over her, and both Luna and the Sikh boy started talking over him, raised voices making a clamour.
“Quiet,” Lyle said. “QUIET!” Gradually, he was obeyed. The five students fell silent, glowering at each other.
“As I was saying,” Lyle began, then looked at Anne and trailed off. Anne hadn’t moved. Her stance wasn’t confrontational, but she was looking at Lyle with a sort of quietly polite expression. Lyle looked at Luna, then at Natasha.
It was easy to read Lyle’s thoughts. He wanted to force Anne to do as she was told, but he couldn’t think of any way to make her do it. The alternative was to let Luna step into her place, and he didn’t want to do that either, in case that ticked me off. In the end Lyle did what Lyle always does: pass the buck. “Er,” he said, looking up at me. “If your apprentice doesn’t mind . . .”
I nodded at Luna. “Ask her.”
“Er,” Lyle said again. “Right. Well. Natasha and, er, Luna. Take your focuses.”
Natasha was whispering something to the boy with glasses. I walked towards Luna, aiming to meet her by the table in the corner, but Anne got there first. “You didn’t have to do that,” Anne said quietly.
Anne is tall and slender, only a few inches shorter than me, with dark hair framing a face the shape of a downwards-pointed triangle. She looks about twenty-two, Luna’s age, which is on the old side for an apprentice— most graduate to journeyman by twenty-one or so. Her eyes are an odd red-brown colour, set at an angle that gives her a slightly catlike look, and there’s a stillness to her movements. She’s striking, but she has a quiet unobtrusive manner that tends to make her fade into the background.
Luna looks very different. She’s average height, with wavy brown hair worn up in bunches and a fair complexion inherited from both her Italian father and her English mother. She’d blend into a crowd, if she’d ever willingly step into one, which she wouldn’t. She used to always have a distant look, but these days she feels more animated, connected to the world. As Anne spoke, Luna gave her a quick glance and moved automatically away. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.”
Luna shrugged. “She was getting on my nerves anyway.”
Anne had been standing with her back to me, but as I came up to them she turned and dipped her head slightly. “Hello, Mr. Verus.”
“He hates it when people call him that,” Luna said without looking up. “Just call him Alex.”
