Lisa left. She said something about how she couldn’t deal with “more than one of his kind in her life.” They unofficially welcomed Jason onto the team and then it was just the four of them at the cafeteria table.

“We should touch base, right?” Micah said. “Like, see which of the requirements we fulfill, what kind of Tower experiences we have, fighting styles, compare papers—stuff like that?”

Ryan had at least put his book away, but Jason seemed to be the only one who was eager about this. He quickly nodded, brought his backpack up on the bench, and pulled a folder out. In the front cover, he slipped a page from a protective envelope and handed it to him.

“Here’s a copy my Proof Of paper—”

Micah immediately held it more carefully. He said something else, but he didn’t quite catch it, his eyes shooting down the page instead. It wasn’t often that he got to look at other people’s Proof Of papers.

[Adventurer Path]

[Skills: Wanderlust, Light]

[Flock Path]

[Skills: Find Water]

[Adventurer level 5]

[Skills: Basic Mending, Sure Grip, Lesser Weather Resistance, Improvised Weapon Proficiency: II]

[Other: Lesser Vigour]

He was level five. That was just about average for his age. He also had an “other” Skill that wasn’t a spell, which meant he had gotten a Skill when he was thirteen. Those were usually telling, something the person was good at, the way they were, how they behaved.

Vigour was halfway between vitality and might. You didn’t just have more energy, you put more of it and yourself into the things you did. Micah thought of Jason’s faint smile, the subtle fervor in his words—he could see it. It was also a [Mage] stat. He wondered if it was rare to get one of those as your first Skill. Unless, had he started mana manipulation exercises early?

He only knew one spell … why hadn’t he learned more when he had an aptitude for it?

Then his Paths. [Adventurer Path]. Full commitment. [Wanderlust]. A mindset Skill? Something to do with hiking? And [Flock Path]. Something religious? Their first Skill was [Find Water]. Maybe it had to do with their beliefs. It was certainly useful, even if it didn’t tell him much.

Honestly, the thing that surprised him most was—

“[Improvised Weapon Proficiency: II]? I didn’t even know there was an [Improvised Weapon Proficiency: I]. What does it do?”

Ryan gestured for the page. He was sitting next to Jason so he couldn’t see. Micah only noticed Kyle had been casually leaning back to get a look at the page himself when he handed it over.

“It’s … sort of unusual, I’m told. It helps me use stuff as makeshift swords? Like—” He sat up, pushed his shoulders back, and held his arm out with a slight bend at the elbow. His arms were long so his reach went far. Micah wasn’t an expert, but it looked like a rudimentary fencing stance. “This?”

He could imagine him holding a fire poker like that, or a table leg. It looked vaguely aloof.

“Cool.”

“Does it work with actual swords?” Ryan asked.

“Not as well as an actual proficiency would. It’s more of an … improvised fighting style.”

“As the name implies …”

“And you?” Jason asked, dropping the stance. “Do you have your papers with you?”

“Oh, not on me,” Micah said. He got his own backpack. “I don’t think. Let me check if I have a list somewhere. I think I wrote some of them down a while back.”

He’d done that to show Anne. He was still a little bummed out they wouldn’t be on a team with her. Well, a lot bummed out. He had been looking forward to getting to know her better. But this was right. He could make sure Ryan was safe. He’d promised. Except, he wouldn’t be able to do the same for Lisa and he was pretty sure he’d insulted her to boot. She seemed mad at him, somehow. He wondered if he should apologize. He didn’t know how.

Ryan bent down to get his own backpack and handed the paper along. He did it slowly, more him moving just his torso and arm to the side while keeping his back straight, relying on his muscles. Micah had just folded over like some kind of an armadillo. He tried to copy the motion as he put his backpack back down. It felt weird on his back. He’d have to practice in front of a mirror.

Kyle was the only one who wasn’t moving.

“Which Classes— Uhm, I mean which Class do you have, Kyle?” Micah asked as he paged through his notebook. He hoped nobody had caught the slip-up. He’d only learned of Kyle having multiple Classes from eavesdropping, so it wasn’t his to share. Except maybe with Ryan.

The guy ripped off a chunk from his loaf and said, “Not telling you.”

He slowed, then looked over with a frown. “Huh?”

“What do you mean, you’re not telling us?” Ryan asked.

“Exactly what I said. I am not telling you.”

“But we’re on a team.”

“Once. Just this once. And afterward?” He shrugged. “I don’t want my Skills to become public knowledge. I’ll tell you what you need to know—I won’t lie—but I’m not sharing everything.”

Ryan opened his mouth, but Micah was quicker. “What does it matter? People share their Skills all the time.”

“Idiots, maybe.” He looked across the table, clear which two he was directing the comment at. “They show their cards. But every time you tell someone of a Skill, they’ll memorize it, and they will tell others, and they’ll keep it in mind for combat training and sports festivals, and judge you. ‘You really think people aren’t out for every advantage they can get? Even our scores are made public rankings. It’s clear all of this is one giant competition.”

He gestured around them, at the establishment.

Micah wanted to disagree, to argue the point, even just for the sake of countering him, but found he couldn’t. He agreed with him. In general, but also on one point specifically. [Savagery]. Ever since he had come here, he hadn’t willingly told anyone about it. Not if he hadn’t had to.

Jason looked like he wanted to disagree, but glanced at Ryan and Micah with a bit of worry instead and asked, “But you two are still going to share, right?”

“Of course,” Ryan said.

Micah hesitated. They’ll memorize it, and they will tell others, and they’ll keep it in mind for combat training and sports festivals, and judge you.

He didn’t want other people to judge him based on [Savagery]. A few had already. His teachers. His parents. A mindset Skill he had gotten from being trapped in the Tower back then, when he had been at his weakest, when he had been the least … himself. It did nothing but turn him, well, savage. Was that not it? It made the only thing that mattered to him success. For him. Gratification. He thought of children throwing tantrums and Hannah crying for her parents.

Childish.

He didn’t believe it. It was a stupid thought, but it was a thought which haunted him. The only thing that would be worse was something he didn’t want to do again. And thinking of it made pushing the other thing aside so easy.

I will not lie to others.

When Jason glanced at him, he quickly said, “Of course,” and tore a page out. He had written most of his Skills on it already. He quickly fetched a pen and added the last few that were missing.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He dropped the pen and still quite wouldn’t look him in the eye. It was out there, now.

Ryan penned his own version, but glared at Kyle with every break he got between words and letters. “You’re just a paragon of teamwork, aren’t you? At least tell us which requirements you check. Because I’m more willing to believe you’re just embarrassed about something and that’s why you won’t share. Do you have any useful Skills? Active ones, spells, Guidance Skills? What level are you even?”

One of those things must have gotten to him because he actually responded, “All in all? Seven. And I have [Basic Dendrology].”

“Dendol— Uhm, what does that mean?” Micah asked.

“It means I can tell you this table is nearest to oak.” He rapped his knuckles on the wood.

“Oh, great,” Ryan said. “He’s got the shitty version of [Basic Forestry].”

Kyle glared. “Breadth and depth, you moron.”

“If I shove my foot up your ass, I’ll show you depth—”

He made a face. “Ew.”

“—You won’t like it.”

“Hey,” Micah tried.

“That’s just distasteful, coming from you.”

“What—”

“Hey!” he snapped.

They looked at him. At least, Jason looked grateful. And a bit like he was regretting this already. Micah couldn’t blame him.

“Stop arguing,” he said. “We’re supposed to be a team. If you don’t want to share, it’s fine, but don’t act surprised if we repay the goodwill, Kyle. Now first things first, what did you mean with ‘nearest to oak’?”

He frowned. “First things first? What are your—”

“Answer the freaking question.”

He seemed surprised by the tone. He sat up. “It’s Tower wood. It’s pretty damn close to oak, but not actually oak?”

“Ohh …” Micah tilted his head back in understanding. That answered one question … and added another. He tried to push some mana through the wood and felt like he was wading through mud. “But I thought all Tower wood conducts mana well?” He cocked his head.

“Not all equally,” he said, sounding like a salesman speaking to a customer. “Besides, this table is old so the wood was probably young.” He ran a hand over it and said it like it was supposed to make sense.

Why would old wood be young? Micah tried to decipher that. He wanted to ask and realized he would never get through his questions at this rate. He scratched his head and tried to get back to the matter at hand. Prioritize. “So you’re level seven. And you’re how old? Fifteen? Sixteen?”

Kyle didn’t confirm, but he hadn’t expected him to.

“Based on your roommates, you can’t be that old. That’s still a few levels above average, right?”

The guy shrugged as if it were no big deal. Micah caught a hint of pride underneath it, though.

He looked to the others. It was really them he had to convince. “Above average is above average?”

“It depends on how many Skills he has from his Path,” Ryan said. “but I doubt he’ll tell us.”

“Path … What are you?” Micah asked. He was just thinking out loud. “[Basic Dendrology] and you, uhm—”

Came to Hadica, he’d wanted to say. But again, information he had gotten from eavesdropping. “You’re in Hadica and you have a Guidance Skill about trees. So a [Gardener] or something?”

It would make sense if he had moved here to become a climber with a gardening Class.

“His Path will be far enough from dendrology that he didn’t lose the Skill,” Jason offered, joining in on the speculation, “or that he could get it in the first place. Unless he got them far apart. I think Paths always consume Guidance Skills …?”

Micah shrugged. “Iunno.” [Basic Alchemy] probably would have turned into [Alchemy Path] had he gotten it. But what about [Personalized Alchemy]? He doubted that he would have lost it.

“This is assuming he has a Path,” Ryan said.

He blinked. Right. They had classmates who didn’t even have theirs yet. It was so easy to forget, considering he had gotten his four and a half years early. Not that he had done much with it up until a few months ago. As far as he was concerned, he was still vastly behind.

Kyle looked more and more annoyed, but it was his own fault they had to speculate in front of him.

“You can talk all you want,” he said. “I’m not going to tell you much. Especially not here.”

“What’s wrong with the cafeteria?” Jason asked.

“Yeah, what’s it ever done to you?” Micah added, just because he saw the opportunity.

“It has people in it,” he answered without missing a beat.

“Oh?”

“Seriously. You’re so paranoid you’re worried about other people eavesdropping on your conversations?” Ryan asked as if it were the most ridiculous thing to have happen to someone.

“People are eavesdropping on my conversations,” Kyle said.

Micah sunk an inch under the table.

Ryan gave him a smug look. “Yeah, right. Who?”

He pointed a thumb at Micah.

Ryan looked at Micah and Micah looked at Ryan. They didn’t need to say anything, but his eyebrow did rise fractionally.

“Sorry,” he mumbled again, sinking a little lower.

Ryan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as if in physical pain.

“That being said, people are also listening in right now,” Kyle added, but went on before they could contest the claim, “so if you want me to share anything beyond my ‘shitty’ Guidance Skill, Blondie, we gotta’ move.”

He held an open hand across the table and glanced at the page Ryan had just finished.

Ryan looked past his fingers. “So you’re not going to share with us but you want us to share with you?”

“Give me the paper. I’ll read through it. I’ll measure how much to say while we go elsewhere.”

Surprisingly, Ryan tore the paper off and put it in his hand. He didn’t let go when the guy pulled. He leaned in. “You have a freaking rattail and look like you’ve been cutting your own hair with a sharp rock for months on end. You don’t get to call other people ‘Blondie,’ Glove Guy.”

Kyle didn’t budge.

Micah could see the cogs turning in his head as he thought of a response. The look on his face was the same as when Micah had first met him, when Ryan had grabbed his wrist.

Escalation.

He shot up to break them up. Even he was starting to doubt whether or not this was a good decision. Ryan and Kyle seemed like they would inevitably end up bashing each other’s faces in.

“So how about your room, then?” he offered. “You know, the one you both share? That‘s private.”

Thankfully, Ryan let go. Neither of them looked happy.

Jason frowned as he glanced from one face to another. “Wait, you two are roommates?”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Ryan fished out his keys halfway down the hall but the door was open. Two of his roommates were in. Brent in one corner, looking like he was taking a nap on his blanket, Conrad in the other. They gave them casual greetings but mostly ignored each other, as roommates tended to do.

Micah sat on his bed, Ryan opposite him, and Jason stood halfway into the aisle and looked awkward.

Kyle sat next to him and both he and Ryan gave Micah a look. He needed a moment to notice his mistake and quickly switched over to sit next to Ryan instead. As he scraped off his shoes, he asked, “So now can you tell us more?”

Kyle leaned over to get a glimpse at his roommates. “I’d be more willing if we had a way to get them to leave.”

Conrad shot up. “Don’t worry. Your voice is more than enough.” He grabbed his coat and left.

The glare shifted to Brent.

He must have noticed because he leaned up, wiggling his fingers in a wave with a bright smile, and lay back down like he was about to fall asleep, practically in the middle of the day.

Conrad slammed the door.

“So, Path or no?” Micah asked, getting a pad out to make notes. He stretched an arm out for the Proof Of papers.

Kyle handed them over. “I have my Path. I’m not telling you what it is.” Before they could protest he spoke over them, “Because it isn’t relevant. My Path improves my combat capabilities, and I am a front-line fighter, not a [Mage], but it isn’t a true combat Path, so it doesn’t matter.”

He sounded much more agreeable, now. There was less of a bite to his tone. The info seemed useful enough. Note to self, Micah thought, Kyle is much more willing to open up in private.

Ryan lay back on the bed, legs dangling off, and said, “You mean useless.”

Surprisingly, Kyle just said, “Yeah.”

“Huh.”

Micah poked Ryan in the side where his shirt ran up and got a spasm out of him. He did it out of frustration. Kyle was finally being cooperative. “Don’t say that. No Path is useless. You shouldn’t be disparaging, anyway. Your parents taught you that.”

He scowled and yanked his shirt down.

“So, fighting styles?” he went on. “Do you have any weapon preferences and things like that?”

“Why don’t you start?” Kyle said.

“I also had some questions,” Jason said, “about some of your Skills?”

Micah had no problem with that. Knives, daggers, and short swords were all fine. Preferably a shield to go with them. His slingshot with alchemical munition. He could make other weapons but tended not to. He also had some spells that were effective against a few monsters.

He explained a bit of his fighting style—ranged support where effective and either nimble fighting, or what could almost be described as wrestling otherwise. He did have more utility out of combat, like with his preparations and essence sight, which was a type of environmental magic perception that overlapped with alchemy and let him do minor, almost cantrip-like effects.

He demonstrated a few, hiding his other essence manipulation style until it was less embarrassing.

When it was Ryan’s turn, he just said, “Spear and shield. Frontlines. [Create Fire] on its own and through the spear. I got [Strike Down] for deflection and use [Enhances Senses] for scouting.”

Short. Concise. Maybe a little too short. Micah would have added some details, but the other two didn’t seem to mind.

Jason also prefeered sword and shield, it turned out. He knew some rudimentary magic, but not as Skills. He said it might take a moment for him to get the hang of it. He explained a bit about his Skills, but most just helped with morale. [Wanderlust], [Lesser Weather Resistance], and [Lesser Vigour]. He wouldn’t mind sleeping in the rain. He also had a weighted net for fighting some monsters and—and Micah turned to leer at Ryan—a slingshot.

“Really?” he asked in a stilted voice, drawing the word out. “You fight with a slingshot?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan said and shoved a hand toward his face to make him shut up. “I get it.”

“Uhm … yeah?” Jason looked lost. “I’m not good with a bow if I’m being honest.” He paced from side to side awkwardly. “It’s easier to carry, too, and arguably better on the lower floors. The smaller monsters take just as much damage from a steel ball punching through them as an arrow.”

“Wait, steel ball?”

Ryan perked up, too.

“Yeah?”

“Not … rocks you just happened to have picked off the ground?” Ryan asked in a casual tone.

“No? I don’t think that would work half as well. I am interested in your alchemical ammunition, though. If you could make some for me? Only for the exam, of course. And I would reimburse you.”

Micah was too distracted to answer. Ryan had shoved him as soon as Jason had finished his second sentence and he was shoving him back. They stopped just before it got out of hand.

“Oh, no, no,” he said, untangling himself from his arm. “I can’t sell alchemicals. Big trouble.”

“It would be part of the team fund?”

“Uhm … maybe, then?”

Micah would have to check the school rules and … the law? He knew [Alchemists] weren’t allowed to sell their products without a license, and some without special licenses, but he didn’t know the details. Maybe his Dangers of Healing textbook would have more information.

“Isn’t half the reason people allow [Alchemists] on their team to save on the costs?” Kyle asked.

“Well yeah, but …”

“Pay him in loot,” Ryan said. “Afterward. We can give him a larger share. I think that’ll be easier.”

They shrugged. Micah gave him a look in thanks. How teams divvied up their loot was probably nobody’s business but their own.

Jason leaned against the edge of Ryan’s bed, then. There was more space on Kyle’s side and he was clearly looking for somewhere to sit—there were also the desk chairs—but the guy didn’t offer.

Ryan sighed and patted his own mattress. Jason waved to decline.

It was Kyle’s turn then. They looked at him until he answered, “I fight with hatchets. Or an axe, sometimes. Some knives. I know how to use a bow. I also know how to make hunting snares. I’ve fought with a torch and fuel before. Setting some monsters on fire is surprisingly effective, but costly and it can go wrong. That weighted net of yours sounds interesting.”

Micah scribbled it all down, ignoring the look Ryan was giving him. The comments on costs brought them back to the type of things he could make instead of having to buy them elsewhere.

He leaned toward matching the amount of money other teams were putting into their budget with more supplies at a lower production price than simply saving out. He wanted to make the most of his abilities, but that would require a deeper discussion once they knew more about where they were headed.

It brought them to the requirements. The two biggest they were missing were healing and a [Mage]. Not magic in general—they covered that over three edges—but magic insight. Someone with the right Path, who had perception, textbook knowledge, and the ability to improvise on the go.

Some floors also had traps [Mages] were more likely to detect, and Micah didn’t know if his [Essence Sight] would do the trick there. Or if it did, if the teachers would see it that way.

Kyle was surprisingly cooperative, if not especially friendly, throughout it all. He kept on giving Micah and Ryan looks like he was trying to figure out a puzzle, or maybe like a hunter assessing prey.

Micah tried to smile and be friendly whenever he noticed the look. Maybe he was just so grumpy because he didn’t have any friends?

They didn’t really find a solution to their requirement problem and moved on.

Jason eventually joined them on the bed, sitting with his legs crossed, hands holding his feet. His knees stuck up like they might poke somebody’s eye out. He didn’t act as if he knew it, though, which made it even worse. His movements were wide and free.

Height doesn’t suit you, Micah thought with a squint. It was just an observation. He wasn’t envious.

He’d grown lately, too. That still didn’t mean he was tall. He was average. Maybe. He didn’t have a lot of people his age around he could compare himself to. His roommates and they … didn’t really hang out much.

“Do you have a floor preference?” Jason asked, his voice sounding like he had one himself.

“Salamander’s Den,” Ryan and Micah said without looking up.

He froze in surprise.

Kyle challenged them, “Why so sure?”

“His Path?”

“My Path,” Ryan echoed.

“Oh, I forgot,” Jason said.

“Why? Where did you want to go?”

“The Dry Sewers?”

Micah had read a few pages on those. As their name implied, they were connected to the other Sewers but gone through a dry spell for some reason. Most of the tunnels were crumbled and somewhat barren, from both vegetation and monsters. It wouldn’t have been his first choice.

Plus, he didn’t like fighting spiders. Too many legs.

“Why?”

“My [Find Water] Skill could have led us to hidden sites, like underground lakes and Guardian chambers, the fewer monsters would have saved us time, and if we left water near any portals we passed on the way, it could have acted like a lesser [Breadcrumbs] Skill, just less reliable.”

That … was actually a good plan. Micah wondered if he would have come up with it, had he had the Skill. Maybe? You thought differently about Skills when they were your own, he knew.

[Find Water] rose in his estimation.

He glanced at Ryan, who shook his head.

“It’s alright. If you already have a plan, I’ll go with yours. It was just … a thought I’d been working on.”

Micah could sense it was more than that. He was disappointed his idea was shot down, but they weren’t really willing to budge on this. They didn’t really have a “plan,” but they could work on one. Maybe with one of the maps in the Registry. Hopefully, Jason could give them more input, then.

That still left a few more important questions. What kind of equipment did they have and how they would cover loot—Micah might want to pick out some of the monster parts and some people liked to be warned beforehand. There were also things like what they expected of this exam.

But first things first.

“Do we invite more people? We still need a [Mage] and more people might mean a better assessment.”

“Only if they cover more bases,” Ryan said.

“More people means we have to divvy up the loot farther,” Kyle countered.

“More people means more loot,” Micah said, although really, he was undecided. A [Mage] might be nice, but the only useful things he could imagine them bringing to the team were elemental prowess and summons—Lisa, basically. And he doubted anyone was as a good as her.

“All the good [Mages] are probably taken already,” Kyle said, voicing Micah’s own thoughts out loud, “and a low-leveled [Mage] will hurt our assessment more than they would help.”

He fished in his pocket for a moment and offered a folded piece of paper to Jason. “I have this list from Stephanie and Felix. Do you know anyone on it? Or if they are a [Mage]? Maybe we can still find someone good.”

He looked it over but didn’t offer anything right away. Micah didn’t really know if he had friends.

Ryan leaned up to snatch one of the papers across Micah and lay back down again. “We could still cover support some more,” he said, reading it. “I mean, we all have a lot of general utility. Micah has his preparation abilities, but that’s something money solves. No offense. Actual support abilities?”

“How do you mean?”

“Like, [Mages] that can cast protective wards on others. Not healing, but the closest thing to it.”

“Oh, wouldn’t your [Pack Aura] also count?” Micah asked. He perked up. “Oh, hey. That’s another advantage our team has. Ryan has a strength aura. Everyone will be a little stronger.”

He went to write it down, but Ryan’s face made him pause.

“That’s what [Pack Aura] does?” Kyle asked.

Jason looked up. “Seriously? That’s awesome.”

“Micah, no,” he said, leaning up. He looked like he wished he hadn’t said that. “I don’t think …” He trailed off. It was almost a whisper.

What? His [Pack Aura] made his team stronger. They had even looked it up in the library.

Ryan raised his eyebrows as if willing him to get it. When he didn’t, he scowled. That did the trick.

“Ohh …”

[Pack Aura] would make his team stronger. Just, Micah doubted Ryan considered either of these two strangers teammates.

“Nevermind,” he told the others. “I made a mistake. My bad.”

“That’s a shame,” Jason said. “I’ve always wanted a strength Skill.”

“I could make you a potion?” he offered, to make up for it.

“Uhm … maybe?”

Micah added it to the list.

“That still doesn’t solve our problem,” Ryan said and raised a hand. “Who all is for inviting a [Mage]?”

Everyone in the room but Kyle raised their hands.

“Not you, Brent,” he said, then turned on him. “Why, not?”

“Aww …”

“Only if they have a magic Path and only if they’re above level three. That means four or higher.”

“Well, don’t you have high standards.”

“I just don’t want anyone dragging me down,” Kyle said. It didn’t sound like a barb, but like he was explaining himself.

“And who all is for inviting someone with support abilities?”

Micah frowned and slowly raised his hand up. “Explain?”

“Anyone who can give us resistance Skills on the fly or cast area of effect wards against enemy arrows and spells. Things like that. People who expend our capabilities, if only on paper.”

He raised his hand higher. Jason joined him.

“Same conditions,” Kyle said, “and I’m not raising my hand.”

Okay. That gave them an objective.

“You guys are taking this team business way too seriously,” Brent groaned from the background.

“I hate myself for saying this,” Kyle announced, “but the Dumb Blonde is right. Shut up, Brent.”

“Just … go screw yourself,” Ryan sighed.

Micah chuckled.

“Yeah,” Brent agreed. “And here I wanted to offer you my services, but now I’m too sad, so I’m going to cry under the covers.” He threw himself over on his bed and then back the other way to yank the blanket over his shoulder.

They all needed a moment to catch on.

“Wait, what?” Micah turned around. “You don’t have a group yet?”

His head poked out. “Nah.”

“Why not? You have tons of friends. And I once saw you lift a guy over your head in the cafeteria. I always thought you had an intermediate strength Skill or something.” At least, [Lesser Brawn], right?

“Nope. That’s called being healthy, man … and well-built, and having strong bones, and working out.” He cocked his head. “I’m just a genetic prize of the raffle, aren’t I? Maybe it’s from all the milk—”

“Yeah, we get it, you’re an adonis,” Ryan said. Pure sarcasm, though Micah thought Brent looked kind of ruggedly handsome around the edges. “Why the hell haven’t you said anything?”

“Huh?” He leaned up.

“We’ve been running our asses off looking for at least one member for days and you knew it.”

He raised a finger. “You mean Micah was running his ass off. You were curled up in bed, sulking for some reason. Kinda like I am now, just without the joke.”

Micah stared at Ryan. Sulking?

“Don’t dodge the question.”

He shrugged. “I kind of figured if you’d wanted me on your team, you would’ve asked.”

“And now?” Micah asked, still staring. What did he have to sulk about? That they weren’t on a team with Lisa and the others anymore? He felt a pang of worry but shook it off. He’d promised he didn’t have a crush on Anne.

So what else?

“Honestly, now I figure you’re all just dense. Jason exempted—”

“Thank you?”

“—for now.”

He sighed.

“Why don’t you have a team?” Kyle asked. “I get Mr. Prayers over here. People hate religious folk. You seem too social for that.”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t be bothered.”

Ryan looked at him in bewilderment.

Micah felt like he was the only one noticing Jason’s face. He leafed back a few pages in his notebook, tore one out, and crumbled it into a ball.

“So what can you do?”

Micah threw the ball in Kyle’s face.

He flinched and jerked all the way down to his mattress with a look of absolute surprise on his face.

“Don’t do that,” Micah said. He could fight with Ryan all he wanted, Jason had been nothing but nice.

“The fuck?”

“Ha!” Brent said. “Good idea.” He stretched over to open his desk drawer and fished something out. A page, by the sounds of it. He folded it into a little paper glider and sent it sailing across the room.

Jason stretched to snatch it from the air before it could take a nosedive. He checked the paper and passed it along.

Micah was busy meeting Kyle’s glare. “Don’t.”

“Screw you,” he said and jerked his shoulder forward to fix his jacket. “Just because you wear a leash, doesn’t mean I want one.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

After a moment, Ryan handed him the paper and took over his glaring duty, niceties forgotten.

Micah was frowning as he looked down. He had been expecting a Proof Of paper. It wasn’t one. It was a recipe for a grilled Teacup Salamander dish with a hunting sauce, mushrooms, and paprika, with a table of portion sizes, approximate body weights, and the appropriate [Lesser Fire Resistance] Skill time the dish would grant. Seconds, over minutes, to hours. By the portion sizes, Micah knew it was much less than what he would need for a potion.

How?

Brent had said as much when Micah had asked, but it seemed like he was an actual magic [Cook].

“You want support Skills?” he asked. “I got [Recipe Book] and enough magic ones in it for a few tricks.”

He handed Kyle the recipe and wanted to answer the mystery of how cooking could get better results than alchemy, but couldn’t. Not because he couldn’t think of an answer—though that would also be a problem—but because he was still stuck on something else.

His grades were great. Maybe it had something to do with his family? They had asked for space this weekend, while Noelle’s family visited. Micah remembered the conversation Ryan and he’d had during the summer festival, in the sales booth. What if he felt rejected by them?

The others were grilling Brent: If he had any fighting Classes or Skills—two knife proficiency Skills, apparently—if he had other recipes—he opened his drawer and slipped a few more out—if he had any experience.

“I’m level six? Got half those inside the Tower on my own. And I don’t have an official combat Class, but my teachers tell me they have high hopes for making [Cook] into one. A bit like you, actually.”

“Huh?” Micah hadn’t really been paying attention.

“Show us something,” Ryan said, sounding lost. “Anything. I’m still trying to wrap my head around you actually being good for something.”

Brent rolled his eyes and leaned over his bedside to fetch an expensive-looking case out from under it. He plopped it open and got out two large, sharp knives, then started juggling them.

One, two. Over and over. The handles flipped toward his hand at the last moment and he threw them up with barely any force behind it. He made it look so easy. Facing them, he asked, “This good enough?”

Micah watched the shiny edges flip in arcs around his head and spoke without thinking, mesmerized, “Yeah, I think so.”

Of course, the others harassed him a while longer. But then, after they had made sure he could actually be useful in some fashion, they unofficially invited him onto the team. All of their members had been in places they hadn’t been looking before.

Micah soon got tired of lying on Ryan’s bed while everyone else tried to get insults in with their questions, and then questions in with their insults—even Jason joined in. His were mostly friendly, and he was a year to two older than Micah, but it still felt like they were corrupting him.

So he jumped onto the mattress and called, “Enough.”

Brent coughed into his fist. “Drama queen.”

He groaned his lungs out and said, “None of this is really helping. And let’s be honest here, none of us are sure if we really want … this.” He gestured around himself helplessly, at the constellation.

Brent put on a worried feminine voice. “Are we moving too fast?”

“Shut up, Brent, PLEASE. The right thing to do now is obvious: We need to fight each other.”

Kyle got up, looking ready to do it right then and there.

Ryan sat up next to him, only a little tamer.

Jason seemed confused. “I’m confused.”

“Sparring match,” Micah explained. “Round robins, like in combat training. I would trust any one of the people I’ve fought there more than I do any of you, Ryan exempted. And no offense.”

“Why—” Brent started but even he seemed to be getting annoyed by his cheap barbs.

Obviously, Ryan was exempted.

“Micah’s right,” he said. “We need to test each other to see if this will work. Sooner rather than later. If not, most of us need to find other options.” He got up and headed for his closet to pack his gym duffel.

Kyle was already doing the same. Micah got a glimpse at how sparse his wardrobe was then. No wonder why he so often wore similar clothes. Either dark or the school uniform. A minimalist?

Jason smiled, perking up himself. “Sparring,” he said. “Yeah, okay. I can get behind that.”

Micah jumped off the bed, snatched his shoes, and headed for the door. He still had to get his own things. “Then off to the mage’s gym it is,” he called. “Meet you in the lockers in ten.”

Brent, apparently, couldn’t help himself and got one last wolf whistle in.

He missed Lisa already.