““Oh, thank goodness,” the child said woefully, plopping down on the marble floor beside Blotchy. She ran searching fingers over her cheeks and nose. She winced and pushed her sticky hair out of her face. “Papa will be disappointed.” As before, this child was quite closed to Fire mentally, impressively so, but Fire had understood enough of the other children’s feelings to interpret what she meant. “Because you came to my defense, you mean.” “No, because I forgot to guard my left side. He reminds me all the time. I think my nose is broken. He’ll punish me.” It was true Garan was not the personification of kindness, but still, Fire couldn’t imagine him punishing a child for not winning a fight against approximately eight adversaries. “Because someone else broke your nose? Surely not.” The child gave a mournful sigh. “No, because I threw the first punch. He said I mustn’t do that. And because I’m not in my lessons. I’m supposed to be in my lessons.””
