The sound was like a drill, boring deeply and painfully into my ears with an unrelenting and unwelcome buzzing noise, loud enough to not be able to ignore, even when I tried pulling my pillow over my head. Even then the buzzing pierced through the protective padding, giving me no respite from the hated noise. Flinging the pillow away, bleary-eyed, I reached out toward a night-stand beside her bed, swatting away in the general direction of the annoying sound. My flailing hand connected three times, but with the edge of the nightstand first, eliciting a yelp of pain, and next with a book on the stand, and finally with a glass of water I habitually kept near my bed. The splash of the cool water on my arm drew forth a muttered oath as the glass clattered to the floor, and, with the unceasing sound still boring into my brain, I pulled myself up and more methodically reached for the alarm, slapping a snooze button and bringing peaceful silence once more to the room.

"What time is it?" my roommate, Evvie, mumbled. Outside the window, it was still quite dark.

"Five thirty," I said softly, knowing what time I'd set the alarm for.

"Geez," Evvie swore. "What kind of person wakes up this freakin' early?" From the sounds, I guessed that she had tugged her own pillow over her head in an effort to get a few more precious minutes of sleep.

Moving as quietly as I could, I slid from under the nice warm covers, and almost crawled back under them. The room was cool enough to feel unpleasant, and the cold linoleum on the soles of my feet sent a shiver of protest all the way to my brain. I felt guilty for having awakened Evvie early, but it was necessary for me. Draped over the footboard of my bed was my robe, which I slipped on after I took off my nightie, the one that was a gift from Cornflower. It was so much easier falling asleep with that flimsy nightie on, even in a cool room, because I felt comforted, as if she was wrapping me in her caring embrace. I couldn't help the smile that flitted across my face at the thoughts of my 'special girl'.

Quietly, so I wouldn't disturb Evvie more, I slid my feet into my slippers, grabbed my bag of toiletries, and slipped out of our room. A few steps brought me to the girls' bathroom, and as the door opened, I could tell from the sound of running water that someone else had the same idea of showering early. I'd been told that showering early before the hot water was all gone was quite advantageous, but, as I was told, since the Hydroflux hardware had been installed, occasionally one or two of the girls got up especially early for their showers, before the six a.m. Hydroflux cutoff time, to enjoy a long, hot, _soothing_ shower, and thus consuming quite a bit of the hot water supply. One shower stall was open, so I hung up my robe and turned on the water, waiting a moment or two for it to warm up while I glanced nervously around the bathroom. It had only been a couple of days since my meltdown, and I was terrified of that happening again.

The water was warm and comforting, and the spray invigorating. I quickly washed and rinsed, and then grabbed my towels. It wasn't yet habit, but I was getting more comfortable with the 'girl way' of drying my long hair. I was at the sink brushing my teeth when I heard the door open. A quick glance sent a shiver of panic down my spine, and I gasped loud enough that Chou, one of the early risers who was also at the sink brushing her teeth, glanced my way, a concerned look on her face.

I felt hands trembling as Ayla stepped toward the shower, his eyes fixed on me, an uncertain expression on his face. Trembling, I forced a smile through my quivering lips and gave him a very shaky wave. "Morning, Ayla," I muttered through my toothbrush and a mouth half-full of toothpaste.

Ayla nodded uneasily at me. "Good morning, Kayda," he said nervously. I could tell from his reaction that he'd
really taken my meltdown seriously, like it was his fault, and he felt guilty about it despite my apology and explanation.

Based on what Vox had said in my room the night before, I strongly suspected that Ayla used the bathroom arrangements to get a free show in the mornings at shower time, and I also surmised that the guilt over my panic attack and fear of inadvertently causing another one was weighing heavily on his mind, sufficiently so that he might not enjoy showering for a few days.

I'd also heard, from several girls, that Ayla was not an early riser, so seeing him in the shower early was suspiciously odd. "You're up early."

Ayla's face momentarily flashed discomfort, but he was good at masking it. "Early team simulation," he explained.

I could tell there was more behind his words. "You're not getting up early to try to avoid ... another ...?" It was uncomfortable to try to talk about, especially since I was fighting panic the whole time.

The expression which flitted across Ayla's face indicated that maybe there was a bit of truth to my speculation, and that Ayla was trying to accommodate me to avoid a repeat of Friday morning. "If it's bothersome, we can work out a shower schedule," he suggested.

"I don't want you to have to change your routine just for me," I countered. Inside, I was trembling and fighting panic, knowing what Ayla was, and knowing my history. I turned back to the task at hand.

I forced myself to take my time, despite a very strong urge to get back to my room to finish my tasks in relative safety. It seemed that brushing my teeth and drying my hair took forever. Finally, that task was done, and as I turned, I saw Nikki stretched out luxuriously on a bench shaving her legs. Absently, I reached down inside my robe and felt the stubble on my own legs. Damn! I was going to have to shave again, and soon.

It occurred to me that maybe Wakan Tanka could help me with a magic spell that would obviate the need for periodic shaving, or at least take the place of it. It would be something to investigate.

No, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka's voice said in my head immediately, unbidden. "There is such a spell, but it is unfocused, and would cause you to lose _all_ your hair, including that on your head."

"Oh. Not good," I sighed, disappointed. "Really not good."

"There is another reason," Wakan Tanka added. "Such a spell, if you were able to focus it, would be an unnecessary drain on your magic energy. You must learn to save your energy for when it is truly needed, not squander it on fits of convenience or vanity."

"Remember tasnaheca," Tatanka reminded me sharply. I wasn't startled because I'd sensed his approach. I was getting better - slowly.

"Yes, yes," I answered impatiently. "Tasnaheca conserves because he has to in order to survive the winter. He doesn't waste his time or his resources."

"Then practice what he teaches," Tatanka chided me.

I sighed, more audibly than I should have, at the frustrating internal conversation, which had distracted my concentration on what I was doing. As a result, Ceecee ran into me as she zipped into the bathroom, partially dodging so that I got only a glancing blow, not enough to knock me over, but sufficient to dislodge my toiletries from my and.

"Sorry, Kayda," Ceecee babbled, before turning and speeding to an open shower.

As I squatted down to pick up my toiletries, I realized that my robe hung open, and glancing up and around, I saw that some of the girls were staring at me with what I recognized in guys as an appreciative gaze. It was ironic that Vox was staring a bit, because she'd chewed out Ayla only the night before for gawking at a poster of me. Well, me and Debra, but some tiny recess of my mind was practically screaming that it was _me_ mostly. I glanced around, and saw Ayla uncomfortably doing everything to _not_ look at me.

Vamp stepped carefully around me and looked around the bathroom with a smirk. "I take it from the lack of drama that Ayla managed to behave today," she said sarcastically. If looks could have killed, Vox's glare would have vaporized Vamp on the spot.

Feeling my face flush at the unwelcome attention and the snarky commentary, I pulled my robe closed and scampered out of the bathroom, across the hall, and into my room. My hands were trembling as I closed the door, leaning back against it as my belongings slipped from my hands and clattered to the floor.

Evvie had been tugging her nightie over her head, and she spun to look at me, concerned. "Are you okay, Kayda?"

Slowly, after a few shaky breaths, I nodded. "Yeah. I ... I think so."

"Ayla or Vamp?" Evvie asked knowingly.

I took another deep breath, feeling my chest shudder as I did so. "Ayla. I ... I tried." I forced a smile to my quivering lips. "I even managed to say hi."

"Scared?"

I nodded. "Terrified."

"But you made it through without a panic attack, right?" Evvie stated more than she asked, knowing the answer and turning her simple question into words of encouragement.

I found myself smiling - thinly. "Yeah," I acknowledged. Damn, but I was lucky to have a friendly, caring girl like Evvie as a roommate. It was ironic; in my old school, she would have been a girl that I would have chased, because she was cute and carried herself with an air that announced that she was fun to be around, even if she didn't have the same outrageous curves as the cheerleaders. Back then, she wouldn't have been interested in me in the slightest. Now that I was a girl, though, she would be interested in me, something that I would have never considered before. But with Debra so firmly in my heart, I had no romantic interested in her, even though I couldn't ignore how good a friend Evvie was becoming.

"Wait for me to shower, and we'll go get breakfast?"

"Okay," I answered. I could take the time to read the student handbook, something that might be useful if I ever ran into security again. I snorted derisively; I was certain that security and I were going to know each other quite well based on how we'd started - not that I was eager to further our uncomfortable relationship.

I pulled on a uniform and fixed my hair in a French braid, as Wish List and Debra had taught me. I stared in the mirror for a few moments, and then I opened up my makeup case. A very light touch of blush, some eye liner and light eye shadow, and a dab of lipstick, and I was more satisfied with my appearance. It was to be my first day of classes, after registration, and I wanted to look acceptable. With so many beautiful girls, I figured that I'd stand out if I looked too plain - in a bad way. It couldn't have been because I wanted to look pretty, could it? I shook my head. Nah. Couldn't be _that_!"

I sat back down at my desk and continued reading through the handbook. I could have skipped ahead, but I needed to read the entire document, and skipping around would have made it difficult to keep straight which parts I'd read and which I hadn't. Despite the volume of lore I'd been told by the Sioux Falls League, I _needed_ to know anything and everything I could learn about Whateley.

I flipped a page, and found myself in the section on campus organizations, which caused me to involuntarily roll my eyes in disgust. I'd never gotten into the clubs at my old high school, even if I was on the sports teams, and I saw no need to be a 'joiner' here. The list was pretty extensive, and started with the formally-recognized groups, and continued on inserted material for less formal clubs. One could understand the Alphas, who probably considered themselves to be the best of the best and the leaders of the campus. It looked like being some type of leader of a known campus group or something was a requirement to help elect the top alpha. Lord knew what kind of sucking-up and snobbery was required to actually be a member. So what? I never had time for the elite snobbery before, and I doubted I'd have time at Whateley.

There was the Euro-Promotional League, which I gathered, from some talk in Crystal Hall and around the cottage, was also known disparagingly as the Beret Mafia. Though the handbook didn't say as much, what little I'd heard let me know that they were Euro-snobs who thought Americans were beneath them. Great - another group with an excuse to have an attitude.

The Dragons and Tigers were both martial arts clubs. So freakin' what? I wasn't interested in any of that kung-fu Bruce Lee stuff. Just based on the explicit attitude conveyed by the name, The Superior Court of Kings and Queens of the Golden Circle and Platinum Diadem and Silver Crown was some group of rich snobs - great, a third club of snooty attitudes, as if more were needed. Anyone in a club with a name like that had to be old-money snobby, too - the worst of the worst.

There was Venus, Inc., which I already knew about from Debra, and who both Mom and Debra encouraged me to join. Despite promising Debra, I had no desire to join the beauty snobs and resident fashionistas. I still felt nervous about even being a girl, let alone the thought of trying to be one of the 'beautiful' models that all the guys would inevitably try to score with.

Contrary to what Wakan Tanka thought, I was pretty sure that I still had a ton of adjustments to my female status. Dr. Bellows had been right about one thing - my first few weeks as a girl had been so hectic and frightening that I hadn't had time to think about what becoming a girl meant, let alone accept it. I strongly suspected that, as my days became routine, I was going to have a lot of aspects of a girl's life that I wasn't taking time to think about at that moment. It was a new experience to even take time to think about how much I needed to adjust to.

I turned my attention from myself back to the handbook, and the various groups. The Whateley Junior ROTC? Yeah, like _I_ wanted to be in a jack-booted organization so I could work toward a military career. The one formal group that caught my eye was the Gearheads, an auto mechanics club. With what I'd done with Grandpa's '57, I thought I'd fit in there, but then I remembered that the school was full of kids whose official uniform was augmented with lab coats in a variety of colors - the horde of devisors and gadgeteers, and those kids would probably be telling me endlessly what I should do to _my_ car, or how to improve _my_ engine, and so and so on. I'd been a good mechanic; hell, I'd been better than some who worked in Dad's dealership, but the thought of suddenly feeling way below average turned my stomach. Maybe when I graduated, I could find a place and a job that would provide me workspace and money to restore and hop-up the car in my spare time. Until then, the thought of being considered well below average in a shop was really discouraging. One of the disadvantages of being from a small town was becoming evident. A big fish in a little sea was very often a small fish in an ocean. I didn't think that looking at a list of clubs would be depressing, but it was. I had to pause and focus on what Louis and Dr. Bellows had told me about wanting to fit in, and not being overcome by fear. After a few deep breaths to steady myself, I continued reading.

The handbook referred me to an inserted packet of fliers that gave more information on the campus organizations, including many that weren't formally recognized. Curious, I opened the packet and began to look through the 'ad copy' for the clubs. The description of the Lit Chix sounded somewhat interesting, but I suspected that I'd have to develop an unnatural attraction to authors such as Emily Dickinson, Jane Austen, and JK Rowling. No thanks. Give me Heinlein and Clarke and Asimov any day.

Amazingly to me, some of them seemed to be polar opposites. The Bad Seeds, a social club for the children of supervillains, and the Future Superheroes of America; the Masterminds and the Intelligence Cadet Corps, or Spy Kids as Farm Boy had laughingly called them. There was a group called the Parkour Hooligans. Based on that material and what I knew of parkour, that group might be interesting; I'd have to chat with Wakan Tanka to see if a group like that would be useful for the Native American outdoor traditions and skills she wanted me to learn. There were the Goobers, whose description sounded like some special evil spirit protection force, but sounded more to me like Ghostbuster or Buffy the Vampire Slayer wannabes.

I'd just finished looking over the groups when Evvie came back into the room. She dropped her robe and started dressing, while I tried to not stare at her shapely nude body. While other exemplars had the thin, overly-curvaceous supermodel look down to a T, Evvie looked generally much more fit and wholesome, kind of a renaissance figure like Mom and Aunt Ida, women who knew what hard physical work was and weren't ashamed of doing it or of the more full-figured result that came with it. Years of having been a guy hadn't worn off overnight, and I still had a great appreciation for the female form, and I'd seen plenty of those already in the bathroom. Evvie definitely had the type of body that I could appreciate, or at least, I used to be able to appreciate.

Evvie noticed me staring. "Old habits?" she asked with a wry grin.

I winced. "Yeah. But ... it's weird. It's different."

She paused, swaying her upper torso so her boobs danced back and forth tantalizingly. I found myself hypnotized by her ample, firm breasts that had not the slightest hint of sag. "You mean this doesn't turn you on?" Evvie giggled.

I blushed furiously. "Well, kind of, and kind of not. The part of my brain that's still got guy thoughts thinks you're ..." I stopped, embarrassed even more.

"What?" Evvie demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "Say it."

"You're ... hot," I said with a wince. "You're really attractive. If I was a guy, I'd want to get in your pants," I blurted out suddenly, then clasped my hand over my mouth, my eyes wide with surprise at what I'd actually said.

Evvie giggled at my sudden revelation even as her cheeks flushed from a bit of embarrassment. Given the types of girls around Whateley, I doubted that she was called 'hot' very often, which was grossly unfair. "And the increasingly large fraction of your mind that's female?"

With a groan at her choice of wording, I replied, softly, and with my cheeks still burning. "I ... I kind of compare your body ...."

"To?"

I wasn't getting out of this. "To Debra," I answered, and then softly added, "and to myself."

Evvie goggled at me, and then chuckled. "I was just joking, but your female mind really _is_ taking over!" She finished pulling on and fastening her bra, and then buttoned her uniform blouse before stepping into her skirt and fastening it around her waist. Finally, she slipped her blazer on. "Let's go eat. I'm starving."

"But ... what about Naomi?" I asked as we descended to the first floor, puzzled that she was ready to rush off to breakfast without her girlfriend.

**********

Schuster Hall

Rosalyn Dekkard drew the short straw for morning escort, since she didn't have a first-period class. Despite that, she had to go to her 'homeroom' to check in - some kind of attendance roster they took, and so I went to Rosalyn's homeroom. I felt quite out of place, because most of those in her homeroom were juniors, and I knew almost no one. Plus, it seemed that everyone was staring at me, especially the guys. After attendance was taken, I practically towed her out of the room at warp speed to escape the visual scrutiny, and we walked to Schuster to meet with my course counselor.

Rosalyn was an extraordinarily attractive girl, with wavy ravens-black hair cascading down her back to her waist. I could feel her emerald eyes occasionally eyeing me, and given her reputation as an adventurous lesbian, the sense that I was being evaluated as a potential mattress-mambo partner was a little disconcerting. Given that there were few students about campus as most were either still asleep or in class, she obviously didn't feel the need to disguise how she was looking at me.

"I understand you hooked up with Cornflower," Rosalyn finally said, breaking what had been an awkward silence. "Did she tell you that we were ... acquainted ... when she was here?" From the way she spoke, I gathered that she was heavily implying that the acquaintance was far more than just knowing each other's name.

"Oh?" I felt a stab of jealousy, and then found myself fighting _that_ thought. Was I that much into Debra that I was jealous?

Rosalyn's laugh was soft and melodic. "I take it from your expression, that the rumors f you two being an item are true? That you _are_ part of the sisterhood?"

Scarlet would have seemed a pastel shade in comparison to the color burning my cheeks. "Subtly isn't your strong suit, is it?" I asked, trying to deflect the conversation.

Rosalyn grinned. "Sometimes, no. So?"

"Uh, we're ... friends," I muttered, looking down to avoid eye contact.

Rosalyn chuckled. "Uh, huh. _Friends_." We walked a few more steps in silence.

"There's a little problem with our ages," I added defensively, still feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I wondered why I felt the need to defend my relationship with Debra. We walked a bit more.

"You know, there are a lot of girls here who would love to help you get some experience for when you _are_ old enough ...." She let the not-so-subtle invitation hang unfinished.

"Do you _always_ talk like this?" I stammered, amazed at the entire conversation.

"No. Sometimes I'm much more explicit and direct!" She saw my open-mouthed look of disbelief. "You should hear the discussions at our hot-tub parties."

"Uh, no thanks!" I said hastily. The disjointed male and female thought patterns resumed clashing in my head with untold fury. The male part was screaming at me to ask more about the hot-tub parties, so I could go, because seeing some girl-on-girl action was too intriguing a concept to miss. It sounded stereotypical, but the thought of watching girls get it on was a real turn-on, or at least it had been, and from what other guys said in the locker room, it was a pretty common fantasy theme. The thought of losing that male fantasy struck me hard, causing me to almost miss a step. I would never be a spectator, watching lustfully, but now I was a girl that guys would want to see doing it. A brief pang of sadness tore through my mind. Okay, it was more than brief, and it was rather brutal. I wasn't a guy anymore.

The female part was yelling at me, eventually drowning out the self-pitying 'I lost my manhood' morose thinking, and telling me to shut up and change the subject, lest I find myself invited to one of the parties and end up _in_ some of that girl-on-girl action. As the war raged, I stumbled along beside Rosalyn, still blushing, and trying my best - unsuccessfully - to hide the fact that I was totally flustered.

"Why not? Hot tub parties are always a good time. I think you'd enjoy the experience." I think she could sense my indecision and mixed feelings.

I flinched. "Uh, I don't think so."

Rosalyn laughed. "But you're tempted, aren't you? I can tell from your reaction." She smiled at me as my expression confirmed that she _had_ read my emotions correctly. "We have a party scheduled right after Spring Break. I'll get you the information, and you can decide for yourself."

"Uh," I stammered, completely tongue-tied, "maybe." It was all my addled brain could think to say.

"Would it help if I got ahold of Cornflower to get permission for you to go?" Rosalyn chuckled, watching as my red cheeks turned ruby in coloration. Much more of this conversation from her and my cheeks would be visible in the far infra-red part of the spectrum. As it was, I feared that Rudolph's nose had nothing on the bright red glow of my cheeks.

Fortunately, before things could get any more humiliating - if such were even possible, we arrived my counselor's office. Rosalyn winked at me, not so subtly licking her lips, and then told me to call Mrs. Horton when I was finished to have someone to escort me. From the grin on Rosalyn's face, she had really been enjoying causing me a little embarrassment and discomfort.

Mrs. Hawkins was an older woman, probably in her early sixties, and she looked at me with an expression of unhappiness. "You're late," were the first words from her mouth.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, surprised at her tone of voice. "I ... had to wait for my escort to check in at her homeroom."

Mrs. Hawkins' eyes narrowed. "That doesn't excuse tardiness." She looked at her computer monitor. "I've laid out a basic first-year schedule for you. You'll start first period in Algebra 1 - assuming," she looked over the top of her reading glasses at me with a raised eyebrow, "you think you can catch up. Math is usually one of the more difficult ...."

"I've been doing college-level independent study math classes for the last three years. I don't need algebra."

Mrs. Hawkins didn't really listen to me. "Nonsense! Algebra 1 is a required class, and every freshman is required to take it, or remedial pre-algebra." She scowled as I took a breath to reply, silencing me at least for the moment. Second period, you'll have Basic Martial Arts, followed by Introduction to Magic Arts."

"I don't need, or want, martial arts," I protested, speaking quickly so I could get a word in.

"That's for us to decide," Mrs. Hawkins replied without looking at me. "Based on your history, the administration has put you in this class. Now, after lunch, you have English 1 ...,"

"I _had_ English 1," I protested sternly. "I'm a sophomore, not a freshman!"

Mrs. Hawkins ignored me. "... Power Theory, and Power Theory Lab."

"I _don't_ need English 1," I repeated. "I had that last year." I could have as well spoken to a wall. "And I've taken grad-school level math classes, so I _don't_ need Algebra I!"

"Since your record indicates that you're a gadgeteer, I've signed you up for an independent study late class in electronics, and since you need a language, I have you an evening class in French."

"I already speak a non-English language," I said with a scowl. "I am fluent in Lakota. My spirits made sure I can speak Lakota well, since it's part of my heritage. I am a second-year student, I don't need algebra, and I don't need English 1. I don't need a language class. I need the avatar class!"

If I'd have been an eight-foot-tall, winged, fanged, threatening red demon, I don't think that Mrs. Hawkins would have changed her expression one iota.

"You'll also need costuming class, and there is a class on Saturday mornings, so I enrolled you in that."

"Saturday?" I exclaimed with dismay. "Eight classes during the week, and you're giving me weekend classes, too?"

"Many students take weekend classes, especially when they have deficiencies that need to be made up. And since you missed a lot of classes your first term, you have a lot of make-up to do in a little time."

It took a few seconds for me to pick my jaw off my lap. "Deficiencies? I'm a sophomore! I had English 1 last year! I learned algebra when I was in fourth grade! I've already studied calculus and differential equations, to say nothing of higher-order college level math!"

Mrs. Hawkins was unflappable in her arrogance and condescension toward me. "Your transcripts are incomplete, and they certainly note nothing about advanced math classes, so we have to make sure you take the requisite freshman classes in algebra and English."

"Have you even _seen_ my transcripts?" I asked, feeling like I was debating a tree or a wall. "I'm a sophomore!" I insisted, fighting to contain my rising frustration.

"According to the records," Mrs. Hawkins continued to ignore me, "you're assigned to freshman-level classes. It's standard procedure here at Whateley, and the administration approved this plan."

"Mr. Lodgeman told me that I need to take an Avatar class because of my spirit," I added, knowing it was useless to try to argue with this stubborn bureaucrat. Still, I had to try to talk some sense into her, as she _did_ control my class schedule. And I had to try to be polite, which was difficult under the circumstances.

Mrs. Hawkins frowned. "Miss Franks," she lectured me sternly, "_I_ am the advisor here, and I'm following general guidelines and personalized requirements given by the administration. You are classified as a freshman because you just manifested and have had no mutant-specific classes. Your task is to take the assigned classes and not argue with me.

I clenched my jaw and counted to five, all the while picturing Tatanka knocking this obstinate bureaucrat through a wall. "I'm not trying to be difficult," I replied in clipped tones as I struggled to contain my growing distaste for the woman, "but I've already had two of the assigned classes and I don't want to repeat them for no reason, when there are classes which I've been told _will_ be very useful and _necessary_ for me. Repeating classes that are already on my transcripts is a waste of my time and a waste of the school's resources. And I have no interest in martial arts classes."

"The other thing we'll need to schedule," Mrs. Hawkins continued, ignoring everything I'd said, "is your powers testing."

I sighed heavily at the incredible concentration of incompetence Mrs. Hawkins represented. "I _had_ powers testing. By the Sioux Falls League."

"That's not an excuse. Whateley has the finest powers testing resources in the world, and frequently, other groups make significant errors doing the testing. You'll need the test results for your MID."

I started to reply, but decided it was useless to argue with someone so pig-headed. Instead, I pulled my MID out of my purse and unceremoniously dropped it in front of her. "I _have_ an MID!" I stated bluntly.

Mrs. Hawkins used a pencil to shove the MID back across her desk toward me like it was something particularly odious and disgusting. "I'll notify you of your schedule for powers testing. And then we can get that ... thing ... corrected with your _real_ powers."

"But ...."

"I have another appointment. Good day, Miss Franks. Please see yourself out."

Frustrated didn't come close to describing how I felt; there was a good dose of anger mixed in, too. And Mom and Dad were paying for me to be treated like this! "Per security requirements, can you please call Mrs. Horton so that she can send an escort to meet me?"

Mrs. Hawkins gazed over her reading glasses again. "Oh. You're _that_ one." The audible disdain in her voice made her sound like she was referring to a hardened criminal or a particularly socially offensive bum. She picked up her phone and placed the call, while I felt completely humiliated by her attitude. When she finished the call, her royal pomposity deigned to look upon me again. "You may wait in the hall."

So far, of the women I'd met at Whateley, the school was 2 for 7 or 2 of 8 in terms of even halfway reasonable social behavior. My initial bad impression of the place and of the staff was, it seemed, optimistic. Given how the Sioux
Falls League members had talked, there had to be _something_ good about Whateley, but so far, those positive qualities had proven almost completely elusive.

**********

It took a bit of doing to get an escort lined up to take me shopping to the bookstore. Megs declined, nervously, to accompany me, and I understood completely why she did so. Most of the other girls had full class schedules, but Heather, aka Selkie, was free for an hour. Heather was one of the Sidhe, and her exotic elfin appearance made me feel rather plain - which I needed at that moment. I didn't want to attract any attention from any boys; in my few days at Whateley, I'd already gotten more than enough such attention.

Since I'd done serious clothes and supply shopping the day before, all I had to do was get books and supplies. I figured it would be a relatively short trip. Unfortunately for my plans, short trip and Whateley campus bookstore were two phrases that apparently didn't go together well, at least not on the particular day I was trying to hurry. It seemed like everyone not in class was in the bookstore.

As I was wandering aimlessly through the book section, looking to find a way to decode the layout, and map the resulting maze against my classes, a guy in a clerk's vest came up to us. "May I help you?" he asked politely. He was a little shorter than me, rather skinny, and with a disheveled mop of dirty blonde hair surrounding a totally unremarkable face where his thick glasses were the most interesting feature, he looked like an almost comically stereotypical young geek.

I shouldn't have been startled, but I wasn't listening to the spirits, being distracted instead by a minor uproar a few aisles over. "Uh, yeah," I replied as soon as I'd recovered my composure. "I just got registered today, so I need to get my books."

The boy peered through his glasses at me. "Are you that new student, the Buffalo Gal that everyone's talking about," he said, smiling and trying to be pleasant about the whole thing.

I groaned inwardly. The nickname from security was spreading pretty rapidly; it seemed that I'd be fated to spend years as the 'Buffalo Gal'. "My name is _Kayda_," I replied firmly, trying not to be snarky about it, but I wasn't certain that I kept all the ice out of my voice, "not 'Buffalo Gal'." I wanted to make the point that I really disliked that nickname, and wasn't going to put up with it.

"Oh," he apologized quickly. "Sorry. The way people are talking, I thought it was your code name. I'm Delwin," he said with a nervous smile. Based on his physique and bookish appearance, I guessed that he was a devisor or gadgeteer, and thus, as a full-fledged nerd, he probably was a little reclusive socially. Still, I had to give him points for apologizing, and for trying to talk to me. "Um, if you have your schedule, I can help you find your books," he offered.

I sighed, unconsciously looking him in the eye judgmentally as I debated accepting his help. After a moment, I gave him the printout I was holding, and then added, "I don't need algebra or English books. I had English last year before I manifested, and I'm _way_ past algebra."

The boy's eyes lit up. "Oh? Are you in Calc I?" he asked eagerly.

I shook my head. "A couple of years ago. I'm trying to finish Abstract Algebra, and then I'm going to do independent study in Finite Math." I sighed at that. "At least, I _was_ going to do that. Now, I'm fighting the bureaucracy to realize that I finished algebra in grade-school, and to recognize my independent study college classes." Great. Nerd-boy's interest in me probably soared upon learning that I was in advanced math. Just what I needed - a nerd fan-boy. I should have kept my mouth shut.

If anything, the boy was even more intrigued. "College level? How'd you swing that?"

Heather laughed, inserting herself, possibly as a means to protect me from an interested guy, and possibly because she felt left-out of the conversation. "She hasn't - yet. Her advisor apparently didn't read her transcripts correctly."

"Yeah, so I'm stuck in worthless classes, and Mr. Lodgeman thinks I should be in Avatars I instead." The more I talked about it, the more frustrated I got as I followed the clerk through the labyrinth of aisles, where he'd occasionally stop, retrieve a book from a shelf, and hand it to me.

After we picked up my books, or at least the ones for the classes that weren't repeats, Heather and I went to Kane Hall. I paused at the door to catch my breath and still my nerves, because so far, every single time I'd gone to Kane, it had been unpleasant. Heather was surprised by my hesitation, but she let the door close and put her arm around my shoulder.

"It's nothing bad this time, Kayda," she said, guessing the reason for my reluctance.

I felt a shiver ripple up and down my back. "I know," I squeaked in a tiny voice. Steeling myself, I let Heather lead me into the den of oppression and hopelessness, otherwise known as security headquarters. I half expected to see a sign over the entrance reading, 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.' At least, that's what _I_ thought it should say. Then again, I was already rather jaded by my experiences.

As we stepped toward the door, the duty officer looked up from his computer, and he groaned audibly. "Aw, shit," he muttered loud enough for me, and several others, to hear. "Bad news time - it's the Buffalo Babe!" Even if I hadn't known who he was from one of my previous security encounters, his nameplate tagged his as Officer Andrews. He leaned his face into his palm for a moment, sighed heavily, and then looked up at me. "What can ....?"

"Andrews!" a sharp voice called out from a side office, startling everyone in the room. The man stomping out into the main area was visibly muscled and lean, despite his slightly graying close-cropped haircut. His eyes bored into Officer Andrews, burning with an intense fury that matched the scowl on his rough, angular face. "You just drew extra duty flying cover for Stan and Morrie in the tunnels this weekend!" he snapped with a voice that would have befitted a Marine Corps drill instructor. "We do _not_ address any of the students with anything even remotely resembling a disparaging nickname like that, do we?" He was standing above Andrews, glaring viciously at the officer. "_Do we_?"

"Uh, no," Andrews stammered. He saw the officer inhale in preparation for another dressing down, and Andrews quickly corrected himself. "No, sir!" he barked loudly.

"I'll handle this. You go clean and do a full tactical check of your gear. All of it! I'll be by to do an inspection in twenty minutes. Clear?"

Andrews nodded. "Yes, sir!" He scampered off like a frightened rabbit.

When the newcomer turned to me, I watched his features change from DI-angry to calm and friendly. "How can I help you this morning?" he asked. I got a glimpse of his name tag; it read, 'Lt. S. Conners.'

I gulped; Lieutenant Conners spoke with a distinct British accent, and he was intimidatingly large. "I, er, that is, I need to get, um, my ID card," I managed to stammer.

The lieutenant nodded with a friendly smile. "Of course. Emily?" he asked, turning.

Naturally, I recognized Emily Strong; she'd conducted my interview for the first day's incident. I was grateful the lieutenant turned to her and not to Officer Harris. Harris had been the 'bad cop', and I had the impression that he wasn't play-acting in that role.

"This young lady ...," Lieutenant Conners started to say.

Emily looked up, and her face brightened. "Good morning, Kayda," she said cheerily. "What brings you around today?"

The office seemed less ominous and oppressive with her smiling and being cheerful to me. "Hi, Ms. Strong," I answered. "I just need to get an ID card today."

Emily winced. "Yeah, the Chief said you'd be around for one today. Sorry about the mess last Thursday." She saw my flabbergasted expression. "If it hadn't been for Hartford, I would have gotten your ID while you were here. I understand you've had a little difficulty without it. Sorry." She seemed truly remorseful, which stunned me. My opinion of the security team was rising - at least my view of _some_ of the security team. Emily sprang lightly and gracefully from her chair and led me to a corner desk.

"What's with Lieutenant Conners?" I asked softly as she typed information in a computer terminal. "He seemed pretty pissed at Officer Andrews. Almost as angry as I was for ...."

Emily nodded and smiled sympathetically. "Some of the ... idiots ... around here forget that they're dealing with teenagers, and that nicknames can be hurtful or even vicious. Lieutenant Conners really dislikes that kind of thing."

"He's British, I take it?"

Emily nodded. "Stand over by the wall, in front of the white screen, and I'll get your picture." Her focus was on the picture for a couple of moments. "Conners is retired SAS, the elite of the elite in the British military. Or so he tells us, quite repeatedly in fact," she added with a giggle.

"Is Andrews really in trouble?" I asked softly.

Emily nodded, her expression turning grim for a moment. "Doing cover detail for Stan and Morrie in the deep sewers is hazardous, and from what some say, scary as hell. Yeah, he's in serious trouble." She smiled again. "On the bright side, I'm sure he'll think twice or three times about ever calling you ... that name ... again." Emily pressed a button with a flourish, and a minute later, a card printed out of a special, boxy printer. "Almost done. Let me get it coded with your information." She ran the card through a reader, pressed a button on her computer, and re-ran the card. One more swipe and a look at the data, and she smiled and handed me the card. "Here you go. You're official now."

I couldn't help smiling. After the horrible experience with Ms. Hawkins for class registration, Emily was a saint. "Thanks."

"No problem," Emily replied. She walked me back to where Heather waited. "Feel free to stop by to say 'hi' any time," Emily offered. "Just not on official business, okay?"

I grimaced at the reference to my frequency of visits. "Deal," I answered. Heather put down the magazine she'd been reading and the two of us left Kane, with me not in trouble for once.

Back in Poe, I ditched my books by simply tossing the large, heavy bag on my desk. As I sat down on my bed, Heather eased herself into Evvie's chair, glancing nervously at the clock as she did so.

"Oh, yeah," I said, feeling self-conscious. "You've probably got classes.

"Yeah," Heather replied. "But if you need ...."

"I might as well get this over with and get started in my own classes," I replied, resignation in my voice. "That _is_ what school is about, isn't it?"

Heather laughed. "You're so optimistic, you're so can-do, you've got the attitude, we're so proud of you!" she replied in a sing-songy, ditzy-sounding chant with an equally silly facial expression. "What's your third period class?" she asked.

When I saw her antics, I snickered, and then burst out laughing. At the same time, there was a little pain in my heart, because Julie would have done the same silliness, but maybe with a few goofy, exaggerated cheerleading moves, to put a smile on my face. I couldn't help wondering how she was doing. Perhaps I should call her in the evening - assuming her Humanity First! asshole dad would let her talk to me.

I didn't need to look at my schedule thanks to my much-improved memory. "Introduction to Magic Arts."

"Oh, finger-waggling!" she said with a smirk. Then she looked around conspiratorially. "Just don't you _dare_ tell Nikki that I said that!"

I raised my hand, two fingers upstretched. "Scouts' honor!" I said solemnly, and then giggled. "Like the scouts would let me join."

"Not now, anyway," Heather said with a snerk. "Unless it's the Brownies or Girl Scouts!"

Smiling, I grabbed a few of my new books and notebooks, stuffed them into a backpack, and slung it over my shoulder. "I'd guess, from that finger-waggling comment, you're probably not going to the Kirby building?"

Heather grinned and shook her head. "Nope. I try to stay away from," she feigned a shudder, but her acting was unconvincing, "_that_ place!" The thought forming in her mind was reflected on her features. "I know - let's get over to Schuster. Ayla should be getting out of a class there in a couple of minutes - I think he's in Spanish, and if we catch him, then he can escort you to Kirby, since I'm pretty sure he's in the same Magic Arts class."

Heather and I walked quickly toward the central part of campus, arriving just before a vast horde of students swarmed out of the buildings like angry bees from a disturbed hive. I had to duck and dodge a few of the larger or faster students who didn't seem to care if they ran over anyone. My heart nearly stopped, my eyes popped wide open, and I froze in place, gawking uncomfortably at what apparently was a student walking down the sidewalk. No one but me seemed to notice or think anything was unusual, but I hadn't yet seen a large velociraptor with a backpack on his shoulder strolling casually about as if he belonged at Whateley.

Heather noticed my surprise, and she chuckled. "That's Razorback. He's okay, but be careful. UV, and he's a rager."

I gulped; for years, I'd heard the stories about the rager rampage in eastern South Dakota. One raging mutant had taken down two platoons of the South Dakota Army National Guard, leaving almost every one of them dead or seriously injured. Seeing a rager face to ..., well, muzzle, gave me a bad case of the shakes.

"He's one of the regulars in Outcast Corner in the caf. They're easy to recognize, especially Jericho and his revolting clothing."

"The blind guy whose sense of style should be banned by the Geneva Convention?"

"You've seen him, then," Heather chuckled. "Sometimes, his clothes are _only_ just nauseating."

"Let's just say that in the couple of times I've seen him, I wasn't impressed by what he was wearing," I said with a smile. Hopefully, even in my worst-dressed days as a boy, I had never shown such extremely unsightly and offensive fashion sense.

"Yeah. Some people think he dresses like that on purpose, while others attribute it to his being blind. I think ...." She wasn't looking at me, but instead at the small herd of students teeming about the building. She halted mid-sentence, and started waving her arms above her head. "Ayla!" Heather called out several times.

Ayla turned at the sound of his name being called, and after scanning the crowd, zeroed in on Heather. I was a little surprised, and disturbed, by _how_ Ayla had looked around. It seemed like a professional threat assessment, and his body seemed to tense, ready to react. It wasn't anything blatant, but a lot of little signs that I recognized from the various animal spirits Tatanka was showing me. Even after Ayla's attention focused on us, he was constantly checking around himself as he wove his way through the crowd.

"Hey, Heather," Ayla said casually, but his words conveyed an unspoken question of, 'do you want or need something?'

"Are you going to Kirby for Introductory finger-waggling?" Heather asked with a grin.

Ayla wrinkled his nose, looking like nothing so much as a cute co-ed trying to look miffed. "That would be Introduction to Magic Arts, and yes, I'm on my way there, and yes, I'll tell Fey of your disparaging remarks about her art form."

Heather chuckled. "Good. Can you take over escort duty? I've got to get to PE, but ...." She didn't need to say more; she was stuck escorting me until relieved, and she didn't want to miss or be late for classes.

Ayla nodded. "Sure." Without waiting, he started walking at a quick pace toward Kirby Hall, not really bothering to check whether I was following. He assumed I was, which was a good assumption on his part.

"You've got quite a bit of catching up to do," Ayla said as we walked. "But don't let that frighten you into not asking questions if you're really lost on concepts. Mrs. Grimes is very understanding of students with questions, quite probably because several students still don't understand concepts from the first couple of weeks and need repeated explanations."

"Okay," I answered tentatively.

"There are a couple of 'problem students' in class that you should know about so you can avoid. Mugwump thinks he's Harry Potter, and has an extremely arrogant, condescending attitude. Don't let anything he says bother you - he's not worth worrying about. Next is Caitlin Bardue - she's an artificer. She has inked glyphs over her body, and is pretty powerful at using magic, but she doesn't understand what she's using, and her magic can get a little out-of-control at times if she gets stressed. Belphoebe is one of the Drow collective."

"Drow?"

Ayla chuckled. "A form of elf, but dark. Black, in fact. They're the result of Jobe's lab accident with a devisor serum intended to create his dream girlfriend/wife. Think of Fey but with coal-black skin and white hair." He glanced and saw the expression of disbelief on my face. "Yeah. They're quite ... unique. Phebes is really nice, unlike Jobe. But their very existence gets Fey and Aunghadhail's panties in a bunch."

"I can imagine," I replied automatically. Actually, I couldn't imagine, unless the Sidhe were pretty racist.

"Irene, Palantir, is in junior high school, and the youngest one in the class. We've kind of formed an alliance, because she hates Tansy Walcutt as much as I do."

"Tansy?" I was glad I had a good memory, considering all the data I was collecting about other students.

"I knew her a long time ago in private grade school. First-class bitch. Arrogant, snobby, and not above dirty tricks. She's got a wicked temper. Avoid her like the plague. She goes by Solange."

"Okay, Irene is cool, Tansy and Mugwump aren't. Anyone else?"

"Geomancer, Winnie, is a sweet girl. She's shy, especially about her stuttering, but she's really very nice. She's on a training team with my former roommate Chou."

Before I could get any more run-down on students, we arrived at Kirby Hall, and walked into the classroom. Ayla didn't hesitate to take his usual seat, next to a tween girl that I figured was Palantir. The other chairs around Ayla were taken, so I glanced around nervously.

It wasn't too hard to figure out who Mugwump was; he wore an ill-fitting, overly-long robe as if he were Merlin, or a Dumbledore-wannabe, and he had a wand - really a crooked stick that desperately wanted to look like an impressive wand - on his desk, where he sat imperiously as if expecting that others in the class should bow to his bidding. Arrogant wasn't the word I would have used - it was insufficient. I saw his eyes narrow as he stared at me, and a sneer crossed his features when he recognized me as the girl who'd bumped into him in the caf doors the other night. So _he_ was the one who shredded my ghost-walking spell. Based on his attitude that evening, and from what Ayla had told me, I decided to start hating him right then to save time.

Caitlin Bardue was sitting alone; her hair looked like metal wire, and her eyes seemed to be etched in a way that reminded me of the light patterns on everything in the animated movie 'Atlantis'. She looked me over, and then returned her attention to her books, having decided that I wasn't worth further study.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fey walk in with a dignified woman who had a striking resemblance to Morticia Addams. I scrambled to take a seat, and ended up next to a girl who, as I sat, eyed me critically, seemingly evaluating whether I was worthy of her time or not. Another display of arrogance. She was devastatingly pretty, and when I looked more closely I could see all the trappings of a rich snob. Her fingers had a few bits of expensive jewelry, the bracelet on her wrist didn't look like cheap rhinestones, but from the way the stones glittered and sparkled, real diamonds. Her earrings matched, as did the necklace hanging down into the valley created by her strategically partially-buttoned blouse.

"Hi," I whispered as Fey and the teacher strode to a desk at the front of the room. "I'm Kayda."

This caused the girl to examine me further, but looking down her nose at me. "Yes. So I've heard." She turned her attention back to the front of the room.

When I glanced to my side, I saw Ayla rolling his eyes and smirking. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that I'd inadvertently sat next to Tansy, the rich bitch Ayla had warned me about.

Ms. Grimes clearing her throat got the class' attention, and, like everyone else, I turned to the front, only to find that she was staring right at me. Being stared down by Morticia sounds like a creepy thing, but the thought of it is nothing compared to the reality. Her concentrated stare made me think that she was using some mystical trick to measure my potential, or was doing a mental assessment after having heard reports about me. There were many places I'd have rather been at that moment.

"You must be the new student I was informed of," Ms. Grimes said evenly, her face not betraying even the slightest hint of emotion. Fey leaned closer and whispered something to her. "Kayda, is that correct?"

I nodded, dimly aware of the derisive glare I was getting from my inadvertent neighbor, Tansy. "Yes, ma'am."

"Are you here because you have magic ability you need to learn to control, or are you one of the inquisitive type who's here to learn more about the mystic arts?"

I _hated_ being put on the spot. I was the newbie in class, and now I was the center of attention. "Uh, I have magic abilities, but I really don't know how to use them, except for a few spells my spirit taught me. My spirit is certain that I'll learn more, so they put me in here."

Ms. Grimes smiled broadly, and I saw a twinkle in Fey's eyes. "Well, you've come to the right place." Her piercing gaze made me nervous, despite her otherwise-pleasant demeanor. "Since you have magic power, and since you missed our earlier round-table introduction, would you care to introduce yourself and tell us a little about your magic?"

"Uh, not really," I mumbled, aware that the spotlight on me had just turned up to about two million candlepower. I felt the unwelcome stares of all the other students, or at least most of them, on me as I tried to sink lower into my chair.

Silently, gracefully, Fey glided to my side. Beside me, Tansy's evil glare was shooting daggers at Fey, who didn't even acknowledge the rich bitch, but instead gracefully squatted down beside me. "Just try, Kayda," she encouraged me. Her eyes radiated calm and confidence.

From across the room, Ayla simply nodded at me, encouraging me in his own subtle way.

"Er," I winced as I tried to speak. "I'm Kayda Franks." Fey took my elbow and gently urged me to stand, and then led me up to the front of the room, reluctant though I was. "I'm Kayda," I repeated at her urging. "My spirit gives me magic powers."

"Do you know what kind of magic you use?" Ms. Grimes asked.

"I dunno," I replied shyly. "I didn't know there are different kinds of magic."

A few students chuckled and tittered, which elicited an embarrassed frown from me, but a gesture or glance from Ms. Grimes halted the disruption. "Since some of you apparently think it's amusing that Kayda doesn't yet know that which she hasn't yet learned, we'll have a pop quiz at the end of the class period to see how well _you_ all remember." The silence was deafening. "Okay, what can you tell us about your magic?"

"Mr. Lodgeman says it's like what he does," I answered nervously.

"Ah," Ms. Grimes said, smiling. "That would be shamanism. You're Native American?" I nodded silently. I wasn't feeling like saying anything more given the degree of unwanted attention I was getting. "So you probably use some nature-based magic as well. Is your magic all from your spirit, or do you have innate, natural magic ability?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

Now, according to Mr. Lodgeman, you can do healing magic?"

I nodded. I didn't think it wise to say any more, especially since I was already very embarrassed.

"Can you describe your magic for us?"

I shrugged. "I ... I don't know. I just learn from my spirit, and then I do it. I don't know how to describe it."

"How do you do your spells?"

Great. I was the subject of 'show and tell' that day. I sighed heavily and gave Fey a look that I intended to mean, 'please get me out of this'. Alas, either the look didn't come out right, or Fey chose to ignore it.

"Some spells, like the minor healing spells or ghost-walking, I just chant the spell, but the real big healing spell takes some time to prepare a healing mixture of herbs and stuff - from my medicine bag, and then a ... I guess you'd call it a ritual or something ... to apply and chant to make the magic flow."

"Interesting," Ms. Grimes had one eyebrow cocked upward. "Your spells sound like a mixture of nature magic and shamanism. Does anyone remember what shamanism is, and what the difference between nature magic and natural magic is?" She looked around the room. Ayla sat smugly in his chair, a knowing look on his face, while beside him, Palantir was waving her hand excitedly in the air. "Irene," Ms. Grimes called on her, "what's the difference between nature magic and natural magic?"

"Nature magic uses essence from nature, like plants and stuff?" Irene answered hesitantly, as if she wasn't quite certain, "and natural magic is magic that you can just do without thinking," Irene answered, looking at Fey with what I judged to be serious envy. If I stayed in that class, I was going to have to ask Ayla what was up with that look.

Ms. Grimes nodded, smiling. "Close enough." She looked around the room again. "And what's shamanism?" No hands went up this time. Sighing, she asked, "Ayla, can you remind the class of the definition of shamanism?"

"Shamanism is magic based on rituals and spells that transcend the physical into the astral plane as well. Many of the shamanistic works are based on nature-based magic, infusing herbal medicines with spiritual magic through the rituals. Some of the rituals, such as dream-walking, are ...."

"Thank you, Ayla," Ms. Grimes interrupted, cutting off his explanation. Judging from Ayla's expression, it was not unexpected. I'd heard that Ayla had a perfect memory, so if he'd read it in the book, he was apt to recite the section chapter and verse if asked. No wonder Ms. Grimes called on him after no-one else could answer.

Ms. Grimes nodded to Fey. "We'll review your tests from last week." As Fey began handing out the graded papers, which were met with everything from 'woo-hoo', to sighs of relief, and all the way to groans of displeasure, Ms. Grimes took me lightly by the elbow and escorted me back to my desk. "Do you know if your magic is from your spirit, or from yourself?"

I shook my head. "When they did my powers testing in Sioux Falls, they didn't say."

"I'm sure the administration has scheduled you for a round of powers testing, haven't they?"

"No," I replied, "but Mrs. Hawkins said that they would."

"Good. Once you known how much magic is from your spirit ...."

"Spirits," I corrected her. "Two spirits." I watched her eyes widen. "Tatanka, the white buffalo, and Ptesanwi, the white buffalo calf woman."

"Two spirits, Miss Franks? Impressive!" I could tell from her voice that her words were genuine. "Between the Avatars class and the power testing, you should learn a lot about dealing with your spirits."

I sighed, resigned to the fate bestowed on me by the administration but still quite unhappy about it. "Mrs. Hawkins wouldn't put me in Avatars."

I didn't expect Ms. Grimes to scowl at that news, but she did. "Knowing about your spirit, and more importantly, how to work with your spirit, is important to understanding how to work your magic. In fact, it's _crucial_ to understanding your magic. I'm shocked that you're not in an Avatars class."

I wanted to say, 'no shit!', but I held my tongue. "Mr. Lodgeman told me I should be in that class as well, but someone in the administration screwed up and I got what I got."

"Don't give up trying," Ms. Grimes said. "If there were mistakes made, you might have to fight to get them straightened out. With two spirits, it's imperative that you get an Avatars class as soon as you can, especially since at least some of your magic is from the spirit you host. Do you know anything about your spirits?"

I debated whether I should follow Wicitiglegla, or be truthful. Based on the rather positive feedback I'd gotten from Ms. Grimes, I decided to be honest with her. "One spirit is Tatanka, the _white_ buffalo spirit."

"I see," Ms. Grimes said, sounding a little impressed.

"And the other is Ptesanwi, emissary of Wakan Tanka."

Ms. Grimes' mouth dropped open fractionally, and for just a moment, displaying just _how_ impressed she was. "And they _don't_ have you in an avatar class?" She shook her head, a look of disbelief on her face. "We'll see about that! Because understanding your avatar is so important to your magic, I'm going to write a note to our department head stating that it's imperative for your magical instruction that you be placed in an avatar class _immediately_!" She seemed quite upset.

"Uh, thank you," I stammered, stunned that someone was going to take my side in the battle against unreason.

Seeing that Fey was done handing out papers, she turned toward the front, but then paused. "Find someone in the class you can work with. You should already know the types of magic. We're starting on the spheres and fields of magic this week. When you know those, it'll give you a frame of reference that'll help you understand your own magic better. And we'll often take class time for demonstrations of magic that fits the topic of the day, so if you know any spells, it wouldn't hurt to come to class prepared."

"Yes, ma'am," I answered as courteously as I'd been trained over all my earlier years. She _was_ a teacher, and was due respect. And despite having put me on the spot, overall she'd been respectful and hadn't deliberately humiliated me, unlike others who definitely were _not_ on my Christmas card list. I put her in the 'decent human being' category of my Whateley list. Three out of nine. But the list was still dominated by the 'bitch' category.

The rest of the class mostly went over my head, as I didn't have the foundations that I needed from the class material I'd already missed. I was so bummed and felt so overwhelmed - the first time in my life - that I bumped into Tansy as I got up, drawing a vicious glare and verbal flaying, and then I shuffled out of the classroom, still stinging from the invective she'd hurled at me. I wasn't paying attention to my restrictions, either, because of the distractions, because without realizing it, I wandered out of Kirby Hall unaccompanied.

How had I ever thought that this would be a good idea? What had possessed me into thinking that I had a prayer of succeeding when I was already weeks behind in everything? These weren’t the normal classes I was used to; it was material that was so alien to me that I felt like I was starting from kindergarten level. And I was a social pariah, or at least that's what I had convinced myself. On top of that, there were minor little psychological issues like unwanted sex change, attempts on my life, and rape. Damn. I should have just stayed home. I wasn't really paying attention to what was around me, just ambling along with the minor crowd of students leaving Kirby Hall.

A massive shove from an unseen force on my side sent me sprawling face-first into a pile of slushy, half-melted snow that still fought an inevitably losing battle against the onset of spring. Behind me, I heard laughter from many of the students who had seen me go flying, and had stopped to mock the helpless little girl who had been pushed into a snowbank. I rolled over, sitting in the slushy mess, feeling the cold half-melted snow soaking into my clothes, while slush dripped out of my hair and off my face.

"Get up, Kayda," I heard a gruff voice from beside me, speaking in Lakota.

Without looking, I knew it to be Tatanka. How had I accidentally manifested him _this_ time? I sighed heavily; maybe Hardass was right, and I should be in Hawthorne and wearing a UV armband if I couldn't control when Tatanka manifested. "Why? So they can knock me down again?" I asked Tatanka bitterly, using Lakota so no-one could understand. After a heavy, resigned sigh, I grasped one of his horns and used it to pull myself to my feet again. Around me, a few students had taken a nervous half-step back away from the massive white buffalo.

"Kayda," another voice called urgently from nearby, a voice I recognized as belonging to Nikki. "Why didn't you wait for us?" She was striding purposefully toward me, with Ayla at her side. Both of them were scowling at me, a silent rebuke for having walked off without them.

Ayla saw the mess on my clothes and in my hair. "What happened?"

"IDFM," I sighed unhappily, and on seeing their puzzled looks, I explained, "It doesn't fucking matter. You couldn't have stopped whoever pushed me." I glanced around, and thought I saw TK strutting quickly down the walk, glancing over his shoulder once, a smirk on his face.

"I don't think they'd have done this if we were here," Nikki replied.

"Great!" I said sarcastically and bitterly. "Now I need to have protection from bullies! This is third grade all over again!" Without waiting for them, I turned and stormed off past Schuster, and turned toward Poe. In a way, I was glad for the snow and slush melting in my hair and running down my face and neck, because it hid my tears.

In seconds, Ayla and Nikki caught up to me again. "Wait up," Nikki said sternly.

I halted abruptly. "What for? I've got to deal with all this stuff myself."

"That's one way to look at it," Ayla commented. "Or you can let friends help you so you don't feel like you have to deal with it all alone."

"If I don't deal with it myself," I spun toward them and replied angrily, "they'll just keep it up. What happens if you or other friends aren't there to 'protect' me, huh?" I returned to sulking. "If they think I can't take care of myself, it'll show weakness, and that'll just put a huge target on my back for _all_ the bullies and pranksters and snobs! You know it and I know it, so don't try to lie and pretend that everything will be sunshine and roses!" Shaking my head, I added, "This really bites!" I turned back toward

"Wow," Nikki exclaimed softly, "you were in a _lot_ better mood this morning. What happened?"

I shook my head angrily. "The same crap that's happened every day since I got to this hell-hole," I said, sulking. "A whole pack of idiots are trying to screw me over."

Ayla glanced nervously at Nikki. "What now?"

"They're making me take first-year algebra. Algebra fucking one! I learned, no, I _mastered_ algebra when I was in fourth and fifth grade, I finished enough undergraduate math classes for a BS degree by the time I was done with eighth grade, and I've been studying graduate-school level topics for the past year and a half, but now my advisor is making me retake a stupid class that I aced more than five years ago!"

"Wow! Someone who's got more ambition in math than you do, Ayles," Nikki kidded Ayla, to which Ayla just raised an eyebrow while trying to appear inscrutable.

I wiped more slush from my face and hair. "And to think that I was looking forward to this place based on what Debra, Vanity Girl, and Wishlist told me," I added with a resigned sigh. "My old school had around a hundred students, so there weren't any cool, advanced classes like here. I wanted to take something interesting and challenging, not have to repeat Algebra fucking one and take boring run-of-the-mill classes I would have taken back home!"

"Who's your advisor?" Ayla asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Mrs. Hawkins. And because she didn't understand my transcripts, or lost them, or something, I have to retake English 1 again, too!"

Ayla had a contemplative look, which gave me pause. "Hawkins? I think I can have a word or two with her to help straighten things out. Or you can talk to Zenith to see if she can help. That's her job as cottage 'fixer'."

Gak! How much influence did Ayla have around here? "Uh, let me try myself." Okay, I was used to being self-sufficient, and I didn't really like to ask others for help. "To top it all off," I continued my story, "I'm in nine classes this term."

Nikki's eyes widened at that news. "That's a lot," she said, wincing. She glanced at Ayla. "Even more than you, Ayles." She looked back at me. "At least you won't have any trouble with algebra and English, so that'll cut down on your homework."

"That's not the point!" I shot back, my frustration level rising even more. "They won't listen to me! They keep trying to mess with me. First it's all the security crap, where they treated _me_ like I was the perp. Then Hartford tried to shove me into Hawthorne. They made it almost impossible, and humiliating to even eat at the caf over the weekend, and then they royally screw up my classes!" I wiped at the slushy gunk running down my face. "And I'm the target of all the bullies, too!"

"I know what that's like," Ayla said, trying to reassure me. It was nice that he felt he could be supportive of me without me freaking out. Okay, that was one good thing for the day. "I got bullied a lot, and still do, because I'm a Goodkind."

"Yeah? Well, you've got the money to buy them off, and from what I've heard, the powers to stop them. I don't," I muttered, sounding like I was mired in self-pity - which I probably was, at least a bit. "All I can do is try to hide, and heal myself up if they don't kill me first." Was I bitter? Hell, yes. I always hated bullies, ever since I was on the receiving end of the abuse in third grade. Now, I was back in that same old game.

"Most battles are won by avoiding them in the first place," Nikki tried to calm me.

"Just what I want - a reputation as a coward!" I snorted. "As if _that_ doesn't invite more harassment and bullying, too!"

"I can't begin to count the number of harassing situations I've run from," Ayla replied. "I wouldn't want to guess."

"Except you wouldn't have to guess, would you, Ayles?" Nikki teased Ayla.

Ayla sighed, rolling his eyes. After Friday, it was really, really hard ... er, difficult ... to _not_ think of him as a 'he', despite the fact that most of his body was an incredibly cute girl. "Thirteen in the first four weeks," Ayla reported after the briefest of pauses. "Most of the idiots have given up, but they haven't all stopped."

Nikki laughed. "But Ayles found a very clever way to deter aggression." I saw Ayla blush a tiny bit, which was probably a huge display of emotions considering how he usually hid his feelings. "He arranged with another student, a high-level regenerator, to stage a little ... injury." She was fighting to not cry from laughing, and struggling to speak through her mirth. "In the middle of the quad, when it was very crowded and busy, Ayla faked ripping the guy's ... thing ... right off his body!" She couldn't continue for a few seconds. "It was ... hilarious! The ... prop he had was so realistic, with fake blood and everything!" she gasped between spasms of laughter. "You should have seen all the guys faces as they shielded their crotches!"

Ayla simply shrugged nonchalantly. "It worked. Almost all of the harassment stopped, although I did have to convince security _and_ Mrs. Carson to go along with the ruse so it would be effective. And that got me a week of detention in Hawthorne."

I didn't know whether to laugh or recoil in horror and cover my crotch. It sounded quite gruesome, and at the same time, funny, since it was a very clever way to let people know Ayla was dead serious about confronting bullies. After gawking at the two, slack-jawed and speechless, for a few seconds, I just shook my head. "Yeah, but you've got powers that let you do that. I don't."

Nikki put her arm around my shoulder. "You have to come up with your own ways," she said. "I know you can, and you will."

"But I've got nothing."

"You've got your bison," Ayla countered.

I snorted derisively, confusing them. "Yeah, he can tear up a PK field, but it drains me physically, and if he gets injured, I feel it, too. So he's only of limited use against bricks, and he's no good against speedsters, energizers, telekinets, warpers, and especially not wizards. Which is most of Whateley students. Besides, if I use Tatanka offensively, Mrs. Carson, Ms. Hartford, and Chief Delarose all said I'd get transferred to Hawthorne - if I'm lucky and they don’t expel me." I sighed heavily. "I wish I knew what Debra and Wish List and the rest of the Sioux Falls League found so wonderful about this place, because I sure haven't found it. All I've found is five days of trouble and frustration, and it's five days because I've only been here five days."

Nikki actually had the gall to laugh, which angered me greatly, enough that I wanted to punch her right in her smirking face. "It hasn't been a piece of cake for us, you know. For starters, we got in a fight with ninjas in our first few nights. We broke up a sacrifice to Gothmog, broke up a bunch of crystal wavers, had three fights with supervillains in Boston, each battled at least something bad or nasty on Christmas break ...,"

"Don't forget the voodoo wolves," Ayla reminded Nikki. "Or when Nex tried to maim and scar you, or when the Young Turks ambushed you, or ...."

"And all the times the Alphas ambushed you, and Fireball tried to kill you, too. I think Kayda gets the point," Nikki interrupted him quickly, probably fearing that Ayla would do a day-by-day recitation of every problem they'd had since they started at the academy. "The thing is, this is Whateley, and everyone here has some kind of mutant powers. Because of that, bullies are tougher."

"That sounds _soooo_ encouraging!" I muttered sarcastically. "As if regular bullies aren't bad enough."

"I don't know what you want to hear us say," Nikki said in frustration. "I can't tell you it'll all be somehow peachy. You'll have good days and bad days, like all of us."

"I'd like to have at least _one_ good day!" I said with a heavy sigh. I could feel a sense of depression and hopelessness building in me again. It was hard to look for rays of sunshine when it seemed the sky was completely overcast - and raining.

Ayla cocked his head to one side a bit and changed the subject. "I was reading up on the lore of the Lakota tribes last night ...," he began.

"Any reason?" Nikki teased him.

Ayla blushed. "Well, yes. Since Kayda's spirits are Lakota, it seemed only natural ...."

"To learn what you'll be up against when she inevitably decides to kick your rear end for being a smart-ass know-it-all," Nikki giggled.

The crimson on Ayla's cheeks deepened in color. "According to legend, when the White Buffalo Calf Woman was approached by the evil warrior, she called down ..."

"... a cloud, and when it lifted, all that was left was his bones," I finished. "Yes, the original acid rain. I heard that tale many, many times from my grandmother."

"Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka snapped at me sharply as my consciousness was yanked brutally and abruptly into dream-space. Wakan Tanka's voice was harsher and more insistent than I'd ever heard.

"Yes?" I answered, stunned by her tone. I turned toward her, and saw that her glower matched her acerbic voice.

"You must NEVER speak of that spell or ability, do you understand?" Wakan Tanka demanded.

"Uh, yeah," I answered meekly. "Why not?" I couldn't help my curiosity. After all, when a teen is told not to do something, they want to do it even more.

"It is a very, very powerful spell. You are not ready to even attempt that spell, because doing so before you're ready would almost certainly kill you. Even when you are fully trained, it is dangerous to you and to those around you. It could as easily kill your friends as your foes if it isn't done perfectly."

In all the time I'd spent in the dream-world with Wakan Tanka, I'd never seen her, or heard her, this upset or angry. From what she described, the spell was way beyond what I would be able to control. I gulped at the thought of hurting a friend or friends accidentally with that spell. "Yes, Wakan Tanka."

"No-one must know that you have the potential of your legends, do you understand?"

"Wiciteglega," I answered, using the name of the raccoon, the one who uses misdirection and disguise.

Wakan Tanka nodded. "Very good, Wihakayda."

I realized that I'd stopped, and that Nikki and Ayla were giving me strange looks. "What?" I asked.

"You kind of zoned out for a few seconds," Nikki replied slowly and cautiously. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I answered with a nod. "Wakan Tanka just had some ... advice ... about, um, dealing with bullies." I knew I wasn't a good liar, and that neither of the two would probably believe me. I resumed walking toward our cottage.

"So _do_ you have the power from the lore about Ptesanwi?" Ayla returned to the topic. "If so, it would be a great deterrent."

I felt a shudder of unease, but decided immediately to follow Wakan Tanka's advice. I forced myself to chuckle as if it were a joke. "You know how legends and lore are often quite different from facts. According to legend, I should be able to turn myself into weird-colored buffalo calves, too." I shrugged, trying to grin. "Sorry. Just another exaggeration, I guess."

Nikki's expression seemed rather telling; she _knew_ more than she was letting on, and didn't seem surprised that I downplayed the legend. Ayla didn't look like he believed me, but dropped the subject, at least temporarily.

Somewhere along the way, Tatanka demanifested, because I could feel him back in my head. The funny thing was that I didn't really know when he'd vanished, because I was busy talking with Ayla and Nikki.

"Do you have your books for the afternoon?" Nikki asked out of the blue.

"Yeah."

"Then let's just go straight to the caf," Ayla followed up on Nikki's idea without any prompting from her.

"But," I stammered, realizing the issue, "I'm not sure when Evvie and Naomi ..."

"Not to worry. It's not like there are thousands and thousands of students here. They'll find you," Nikki reassured me. With that, Nikki took my elbow and turned me toward Crystal Hall.

I sighed resignedly. If Nikki and Ayla wanted, they could physically force me to go, but I doubted they'd stoop to that. Instead, Nikki was being sweet, reassuring, and concerned at almost sickeningly-sweet, grandmotherly levels of mother-henning. And Ayla was acting like, well, like Ayla, which was carrying the appearance of an overly self-confident rich person. In reality, as I'd accidentally discovered, Ayla seemed to have a caring side that he didn't to like to expose, perhaps from fear that it made him feel vulnerable. As far as I could see in just a few days, Ayla's supposed forte, his confidence and determination, were also symptoms of not-so-hidden emotional vulnerability.

"What if they're not there? I'm not supposed to be left alone, ever," I protested weakly, the strength of my argument undermined by my hunger.

"You won't be. We'll be there," Ayla assured me.

"Did you get your ID?" Nikki asked, having heard the stories of how the lunch people had humiliated me simply because security hadn't gotten me an ID.

"Yeah. Heather and I picked it up on the way back from the bookstore."

"Good. You won't have to deal with any hassles from the cashiers at the caf then," Ayla offered a ray of hope.

Perhaps, with all the crap I'd had to deal with since my manifestation, my need for something good had turned to desperation, because the thought of a simple thing like getting a meal without a hassle almost overwhelmed me with happiness. "Well, there is that."

Inside the caf, the line was a little longer than I'd experienced, because, unlike the weekends, almost all of the students ate on the same shift, so over six-hundred hungry mouths had to be fed, some of them in enormous quantities.

"And who's this lovely new lady?" a guy's voice rang out loudly. Just his tone of voice made my skin crawl.

I glanced around and saw that he was staring at me. More specifically, he was staring at my chest, and wearing a leering grin that defined a nine-point-five or ten on the creepily-lecherous scale.

Ayla stepped from behind me and glowered at the lech. "Peeper, how would you like your computer to suddenly quit working?"

The intruder's skin paled visibly. "Er, no, Ayla," he stammered, frightened by whatever threat lay in Ayla's words. "I, er, I was just, um, saying 'hi', wasn't I, Greaseball?" He nudged the boy standing next to him in the food service line.

"Uh, yeah, Peeper," the second boy echoed quickly. "He just said 'hi'." The two turned away sharply.

"Why didn't you tell me that Ayla was with her?" Peeper spat angrily at his friend. "You know what that could have cost me?"

"Oh, crap," Nikki cussed softly. "I forgot about getting Kayda a set of beads." The look on her face was one of profound embarrassment, as if she'd missed something vital.

"Beads?" I asked softly.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I enchanted some beads when Peeper's leering got to be a bit too much."

"While there are no official reports," Ayla continued in a hushed, conspiratorial voice, "all of his behaviors suggest that Peeper has mild x-ray vision, which means he can see through clothing."

I couldn't help glancing down, my eyes goggling with shock at what I'd just heard. If true, then Peeper had just gotten an eyeful of my private parts. I looked up at Ayla and Nikki, my eyes pleading.

Nikki nodded her confirmation. "That's what the enchanted beads are for. They give a magical illusion to what Peeper sees, something repulsive to him so that he barely glances, let alone gawks, at girls anymore."

"All the girls in Poe, and many of the girls on campus, have a set that they wear at all times, because one never knows when the Peepster will turn up," Ayla finished.

"I need to start carrying spares," Nikki chided herself. "I'll get you a set after classes."

"So what does he see?"

Nikki glanced at Ayla. "Men's privates," she whispered to me conspiratorially, all the while watching to see how I was going to react.

I gulped at the reminder. "I'm glad I don't have that kind of vision." If I had, I'm sure I'd be bound in a strait-jacket in Doyle, heavily sedated, and drooling due to irrecoverable panic attack. I had a sudden thought push aside my panic. "Can you make a custom set for me?"

Nikki eyed me cautiously. "What did you have in mind?"

I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, and Nikki nodded, grinning. "That's a devious, sneaky, great idea!" she said. "I'll make a set for you tonight."

The rest of the bits of conversation in line were more mundane than an x-ray visioned peeping Tom - more mundane if one considers magical arts class to be 'normal'. Nikki feasted at the salad bar and on vegetables, while Ayla filled his plate with more normal fare, and then some kind of special treat from one of the chefs. Nikki caught me staring at Ayla chatting with the cook as he took the plate.

"Ayles has a deal going with the chefs," she explained. "He's treated them to air-fare for vacations and stuff, and he's always super complimentary and nice to the chefs, and in exchange, they give him something that's not part of the normal fare for us hoi polloi."

With my new ID card, checking out was almost anti-climactic, especially after I noticed several students deliberately avoid the line I was in, joining longer lines because they were certain that my checkout would take forever - again. The joke was on them this time; I waltzed right through.

"Are Evvie and Naomi here yet?" Nikki asked when she'd finished in the cashier's line and she saw me scanning the tables.

"Nope. Not yet."

"You're welcome to come upstairs and join us," Ayla offered.

My eyes must have nearly bulged from their sockets at the offer. First of all, how did a group of freshmen, Team Kimba, rate a table on the top floor, where all the 'in groups' sat? I gulped at the thought that Team Kimba was far more influential or far more powerful than I would have given them credit for. Second of all, after the snarky way the one upperclassman had humiliated me the other day, I couldn't even imagine going upstairs.

"Uh, that's okay. They're in line, so I'll just go to where they usually sit and wait for them," I lied uneasily. Without waiting for them to insist, I weaved my way through the tables and plopped my butt down at the place Evvie, Naomi, and the others had sat the few times I'd actually dined with them, and as others sat at other tables around me, I watched nervously for my friends to arrive. I hoped that the usual weekend table was also the usual weekday table, but I had no way of being certain. I shuddered to think that I might be sitting in the usual weekday spot of some group of bullies or 'in' crowd types.

Picking at my food unenthusiastically, I looked around for my friends and roommate. Near me, conversations raged loudly and with great passion, from friendly arguments to jokes, to comments about classes. Meanwhile, I became aware - belatedly - that by sitting alone, I was calling attention to myself, the very thing I'd hoped to avoid in the first place. And with Ayla and Nikki having accepted my lie and having ascended to their table on one of the exalted upper levels, I didn't have anyone to 'escort' me past the snobs, bitches, in-crowd, and ranking bullies to get to their table. I didn't dare to even try, not after the snobby, condescending response I'd gotten once before.

As I was about to give up on trying to eat because of a lack of appetite, which in turn was brought on by being nervous about an awkward social situation, Evvie plopped her tray opposite me. My sense of relief was palpable, and from her knowing smile, Evvie could tell how gratified I was that she was finally at the table. Scant seconds later, Naomi joined her, and within another two minutes, Laurie and Adrian took seats with us.

"Where's Vasiliy?" I asked, curious.

"Trying to impress Chat Bleu," Laurie scoffed. "Give him a minute to get over being shot down - yet again, and he'll be here."

"You can almost set your watch by it," Naomi added dryly.

As predicted, Vasiliy arrived at the table within two minutes, greeting everyone enthusiastically.

"So what kind of fanciful story were you using to try to impress her today?" Evvie asked just as Vasiliy shoved a bite of meatloaf in his mouth.

"Was telling story of great uncle, who was famous mathematician," Vasiliy replied immediately, speaking through a mouthful of food.

"Couldn't have been from your family," Adrian guffawed, "because I've seen your grades in math. They suck. One of the two of you had to be adopted, because you don't have even the slightest hint of genes from your so-called uncle."

"So, hot-shot," Laurie said mockingly, "if you have a famous uncle, who is he?"

"I might have heard of him," I added to the conversation. "I've studied quite a bit of advanced math."

Laurie snatched my schedule, which I'd had sitting on the table to review while I ate. "So, the wunderkind is so knowledgeable in math, and yet she's in Algebra 1?" she teased.

Mist filled my eyes as I clenched my jaw angrily, taking a deep breath through flared nostrils, before I caught myself and forced my hurt and anger down. It had been an innocent comment, not intentionally hurtful. I sighed, rolling my eyes. "It's a major screw-up by my advisor and the school. I've taken graduate-level math classes - for credit - before I came here. I've done two semesters' worth of differential equations, advanced numerical analysis, advanced statistical analysis, and I'm trying to finish my work in abstract algebra. Yeah, I know my way around math, but the idiots in the administration couldn't, or wouldn't try to, figure out my transcripts so they mindlessly put me in Algebra 1." I glared at the group, daring them to comment. Thankfully, none of them did, because with the mood I was in, I might have launched at a snarky soliloquy.

"Great uncle was Konstantin Sergeiovich Volkov. Studied under Nikolai Ivanovich Lobachevsky," Vasiliy said proudly, thankfully taking the focus off me and my woes.

"I've heard of Lobachevsky, but never Volkov."

"Bozhe Moy! Is very famous! So famous, great American mathematician and singer Tom Lehrer wrote immortal song about dyadya Volkov's contribution and methodology he learned from tutor Lobachevsky! Surely you have heard of song 'Lobachevsky'!"

Everyone I saw rolled their eyes at Vasiliy's claim. Given that he was prone to exaggerate more than a bit, I found it hard to believe. Still, math was a very broad subject, and his uncle might have made a significant contribution in an area I hadn't yet studied.

I shook my head. "I've never heard of it ...,"

Everyone else joined in a chorus of, "... and don't call me Shirley!" which got us giggling a bit. I was actually surprised that the girls keyed on the line immediately, because it was my impression that girls almost universally loathed the movie 'Airplane', from whence that gag came.

The discussion among them about classes picked up, leaving me feeling left out since I'd just started. Besides, they were in more advanced mutant classes, having already taken, in their fall term, the basics that I was just starting now. After a bit, I was playing with my food more than really eating it, and I was feeling excluded from the conversation, and thus the group, which led to a feeling of restlessness and being cooped up. I wanted to get outside. I _needed_ to get outside, even though the caf was more open and airy-feeling than most classrooms.

"I need to go outside some," I interjected at a convenient pause in the conversation. "My ... spirit is kind of restless indoors." With that, I stood up, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and picked up my tray. Without even bothering to check if anyone was coming with me, I bussed my tray and stepped outside.

A few guys noticed me, giving me an appreciative once-over look as they eyed up and down my body, causing me to shudder inwardly. At least now I knew why the thought of guys creeped me out, even though knowing didn't make it feel any less creepy. In fact, in some ways, it felt worse now that I knew.

Compared to the climate-controlled interior of Crystal Hall, outside it was a little brisk, with a light, cool breeze, despite the best efforts of the early-spring sun to warm things up. I knew just where I wanted to go; strewn about the quad were a few a little walled detached patio areas, open to the south, with benches for seating. They were ideal for early spring or late fall sunning or studying, since the waist-high walls were good windbreaks against chilly winds, and facing south, they absorbed the sun's rays into the brick and concrete of the structure.

I opted to sit cross-legged on the concrete, leaning back against the warm brick wall. The contrast in temperatures between the cool patio, still chilly from the cold ground beneath it, and the warm wall, was invigorating.

I'd barely settled into my comfortable position than Evvie and Naomi arrived. "You're going to get yourself in trouble if you keep wandering off without escort," Evvie cautioned me as the duo settled onto a bench.

"Meh," I muttered. "If it gets me out of some of these stupid classes." I saw the looks of utter horror on the girls' faces at my seeming ambivalence.

Unbidden, Tatanka manifested himself, about three-quarters sized and lying on the concrete facing me. "Wihakayda," he said in greeting.

"What do you want?" I demanded, speaking in Lakota because I was aggravated at his habit of appearing when I least expected it and inevitably lecturing me about something or other.

"You must come to the dream-world," Tatanka answered in English.

"Why?" I asked angrily.

"Come." He vanished, and my consciousness was snapped into the dream-world.

"What do you want?" I asked gruffly as I plopped my butt on a nearby rock. I would have preferred the fire ring of the village, but Tatanka preferred more natural settings. "I was comfortable."

"I have someone you must meet."

"I'm kind of busy right now," I protested.

"No, you are resting between your classes, and sulking," Tatanka retorted. "Since you are learning today, a break from your real-world classes is a good time for a lesson here."

"What are you going to nag me about today?"

"Not me. Come. There is a spirit you must meet."

My eyes widened at his words. Meet a spirit, as opposed to just look and listen to one of Tatanka's lectures? "Why now? I want to enjoy some time with my friends."

"Come." Tatanka ambled off toward some nearby trees.

Frustrated, I followed him. Suddenly, I froze. Ahead of me was an animal I had no desire whatsoever to meet. Tatanka, however, walked right up to the skunk. "Greetings, Maka," he said amiably.

Surprisingly, the skunk answered. "Greetings, mighty Tatanka. To what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

"Wakan Tanka's protege behind me is having trouble withauthorities," Tatanka explained simply.

"Hey!" I protested. "I am _not_!"

"Are your teachers authorities?" Tatanka asked.

"Well, yeah," I mumbled, stymied in my angry denial.

Maka shook his head, making something of a tsk-tsk sound. "She is but a child," he said to Tatanka. "What do you expect?"

"Even a young child," Tatanka explained patiently to the skunk spirit, "shows respect for elders, and does not deliberately flout rules."

Maka thought a moment, and then he walked over to me. He sniffed my legs and feet for a bit, making me extremely nervous. All I knew of skunks was that they were pests and sprayed their noxious odors on things when startled. "She has the scent of the white man's civilization," he said.

"Yes. So much of the world does. It is no longer the time of the open prairie, of the herds of millions, and the balance of things."

Maka looked up at me. "Sit, young one," he ordered.

Not knowing what else to do, with a worried glance Tatanka's way, I sat cross-legged on the ground.

"Why do you show no respect to authority? What have they done that deserves such a response from you?"

I shook my head slowly. How would I ever explain to a skunk spirit what the administration and security had done to me, how they'd messed up my life? "They don't listen to my needs. They ignore what I have already learned, and place me in classes which I don't need, while preventing me from taking classes I _do_ need, or electives which I really want."

"And you know what is right better than authorities who have done this for years? Leaders who have far more experience than you?" Maka asked sarcastically.

"They treat me like a child!"

"You _are_ a child," Maka countered sharply. "You may have powerful spirits within you, but you are still a child. Your teachers and elders know far more than you, and they use that wisdom to guide you. But they cannot do their jobs if you show them no respect, if you constantly question their decisions."

"How respectful is it to _me_ that they make me repeat that which I learned long ago?"

"So you lash out in anger and frustration?" Maka asked. "What will become of your tantrums? What good will they do?"

I started to open my mouth, but I stopped and thought a moment. "They'll listen to what I'm saying?" I asked hesitantly.

"No," Maka replied. "They will not. All your lack of respect for authorities and the resulting fits will get you is a reputation as a trouble-maker. Do you listen to a baby who's having a fit? Do you reason with a toddler screaming because she didn't get what she wanted?

I lowered my gaze, exhaling slowly. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because ... they don't know what's best for them."

"And if they continue to show no respect, but to have tantrums instead, what happens?

I knew where this was going. "They get branded as trouble-makers, and people don't want to be around them."

"And in the end, do they get what they demanded?"

I shook my head. "No," I admitted sheepishly. Maka had a point, even as much as I hated to concede that he was correct.

"But that's what you're doing to yourself, isn't it?" Maka crawled up in my lap, curling up like a cat. A cat with a long, striped tail like those pursued by Pepe Le Pew in the cartoons. "You will get a reputation as a trouble-maker, and others will show you no respect. To earn respect, you must show it to others. To have your elders and authorities listen to you, you must first listen to them."

"So I just knuckle under to things that are stupid and a waste of my time?"

"No!" Maka retorted sternly. "That is not what I said. Let me ask a question - do you know why the authorities made the decisions they made?"

I nodded slowly. "I think so. One person intensely dislikes the shaman who brought me to the school."

"So you fight a high authority? And you hope to win?" Maka shook his head. "You _think_ you know the reason, and you respond accordingly in anger and frustration."

"So what _should_ I do?"

"Ah, now comes the learning. Asking questions and seeking answers instead of just lashing out in anger." He glanced up at Tatanka. "I thought you told me that Wihakayda was too stubborn to learn!" I scowled at the little spirit, but he just looked back at me with a cute little face. Dammit, he was making it hard to stay angry, even if he was a skunk.

"Do other animals respect me? Even the People – do they respect me?"

I frowned. "They _fear_ you, and your spray."

"No, Wihakayda, that is where you are wrong. The animal spirits respect me, because I respect them. The People respect me, and I respect them. It is the foolish young ones, who have no respect for themselves, and thus can have no respect for others, who fear me, because I am prepared to defend myself against them. Does that make sense to you?"

I thought a moment, and then nodded. "Yes. It does."

"If you learn the facts, respecting your elders, then you can find a path to get them to respect you and to listen to you and to consider the facts as you see them. If you respect them, they will reciprocate. But if you fight, if you respond in anger, you will earn no respect from them, and you will earn a bad reputation."

I was suddenly yanked out of my dream-world, and I looked around to see why. Evvie and Naomi were staring at me, concern on their faces. "What?"

Naomi shook her head in amazement at how I was acting. "You zoned out there for a few minutes," she replied. "It was starting to get scary."

"What were you doing? Some serious meditation or something?" Evvie asked.

I chuckled. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try us," Naomi urged, as if daring me to tell my tale.

"I was in my dream-world, getting lectured about respect and reputation by a skunk spirit," I replied. I watched their expressions rapidly pass from 'you're kidding' to 'are you serious', and finally settling on 'are you always going to do weird stuff like this?' I chuckled some more. "Yeah, a skunk spirit. You know what? The little guy was kind of cute - once I got past the fear of him spraying me."

As we sat, conversing casually and enjoying the warmth of the little alcove, I was yanked back into my dream-world when I saw an Oriental girl walking across campus, holding hands with an Oriental boy and an Anglo girl.

"Do you see the girl in the middle?" Wakan Tanka asked me.

"The oriental girl?"

"Yes. She is the servant of a very, very powerful force," she explained. "She must be dealt with cautiously, because she is extremely dangerous."

"But ... we are Ptesanwi! And you are Wakan Tanka!"

"And she serves something far more powerful than us. She serves the balance, the spirit that keeps the world in harmony."

"Is this the balance you have referred to? The balance we must restore?"

"It is far more than that, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka explained. "We seek harmony in nature, where man and nature exist together in balance. She serves balance in the universe, in all things. To us, balance is absence of evil spirits. To her, balance includes good and evil spirits which offset one another. She could be a powerful ally, or a most dangerous foe."

I gulped. "How do we know which?"

"We don't know," Wakan Tanka answered grimly. "That is why you must avoid her attention until we _do_ know."

**********

With a bit of attitude adjustment, English was tolerable - barely. To paraphrase Caesar, veni, vidi, extrinsecus est. I came, I saw, I got bored. First, the teacher, Ms. Seever, didn't even want to hear that I was mistakenly in her class. My name was on the new roster, ergo I was in the right class - regardless of what my high school transcripts said. When I respectfully asked that she or the department chair check into my transcripts, she accused me of being uncooperative and having a bad attitude, all the while I was trying to patiently explain that I was technically a sophomore, that I'd had English I the year before, and had been taking English II until I manifested.

Class proceeded like all English classes, which is to say painfully slowly, or worse. Worse because Ms. Seever called on me several times, which was annoying because in theory, I had only started and was two weeks behind. Perhaps she disliked me for some reason, or perhaps my name came up on the 'pick on this student today' lottery. In any event, I got called on frequently enough that it was statistically highly improbable. The first time, I replied quickly and correctly. The second time, I gave a heavy sigh before giving the correct response, as if answering was an unrealistic burden. The third time I was called on, I made sure she heard my derisive snort before I answered. The fourth time I rolled my eyes, before replying 'whatever'. The fifth time, I just ignored her. Five times in a row, in a class of twenty-five students, was a five-sigma event. I _knew_ it couldn't be coincidence.

After dismissal, while all the students were slogging their way wearily toward the exit, she called to me. "Miss Franks." She sounded quite insistent, so I trudged to her desk.

"Yes, Ms. Seever?"

"Class participation is a key element of your grade, but when I called on you today to evaluate your knowledge of what we've already covered, you seemed to be ignoring me."

"Because I had this class last year before I manifested," I explained as patiently as I could - again. "Prior to
manifesting, I was a sophomore in English II."

She was not to be dissuaded from her incorrect convictions. "If that was correct, you would have been placed in English II instead of this class."

"My advisor did not have my complete high-school transcripts, so she signed me up for two classes that I've already had. I certainly didn't want to repeat classes, because there are some classes I should take relating to my powers, such as Avatars I."

"I'm sure you'll get the classes you need in your four years here."

"I won't be here for four years, because, as I said, I'm technically a sophomore. I had this last year, and repeating it is keeping me from taking relevant courses that Mr. Lodgeman and others know I should be taking," I said, trying not to clench my jaw in anger, and to put into practice what Maka had told me, to show her respect even if she was way past my tolerance level of pigheadedness. "Repeating classes is keeping me from learning about avatars, which in turn is impeding my learning about the magic that gives me, and taking some classes that my old high school didn't offer. But because of mistakes, I don't get that opportunity. Would you care to see a copy of my transcripts from my old high school? Maybe a copy of my birth certificate to prove that I'm of age to be a sophomore, too?" Okay, I realized that the last comment was over the top and a bit snarky. More than a bit.

Ms. Seever frowned deeply. "I really don't like that attitude, young lady."

'Remember Maka. Remember Maka,' I told myself to try to calm the simmering anger and resentment. "And I really don't like repeating classes I've had and missing classes I need because of mistakes by administration," I replied, trying to keep a calm, diplomatic voice. Unfortunately, I'd had little practice in being diplomatic and tactful, so I probably came across as angry. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to meet my 'escort' to my next class, again thanks to someone in the administration screwing with my life." I stomped out of the classroom, knowing that Ms. Seever was behind me, glaring at my display of disrespect.

Electrode, Jackie Warwick, was waiting for me in the hall, and when she saw my expression - a mixture of anger and frustration - she bounced to my side. "Are you okay, Kayda?" she asked quickly. Jackie was another changeling like me, and she'd been very staunch in her support when I'd revealed my ordeal.

"I'm trying to not be pissy," I replied heavily, "but I'm so frustrated! They put me in English 1 again. I was in English II before I manifested, so this is a complete and total waste of my time."

"Did you talk to your advisor?" Jackie asked as we started walking toward my next class.

"She's the one who put me here, and she wouldn't listen to anything I had to say," I grumbled. I halted and touched her arm, which caused her to stop and turn toward me. "I have a question, and I'd like an honest answer," I said haltingly.

"Okaaaayyyy," Jackie answered nervously, not sure where this was going.

"Am I ...," I began. I didn't quite know how to ask the question. "Am I difficult? To deal with, I mean?"

Jackie winced. "Uh, with what you've been through, I don't think so. I think it's understandable."

"But if you didn't know that story?"

She looked at the floor, afraid of how I was going to react. "Uh, yeah, kind of," she admitted slowly. "You come across as having a 'tude, like you don't trust the whole world, and like you're in a pretty deep funk that you don't seem to want out of, but you want everyone around you to know." She put her hand on my arm. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "You asked me to be honest."

I let my head sag forward. "Yeah, I did, didn't I?"

"And sometimes, you seem like you're a loner, like you don't want anyone around you," Jackie added. "I suppose that comes from being hurt so badly."

"Wow. Maka and Tatanka were right, but I didn't believe them."

Jackie's brow wrinkled. "Maka and Tatanka?"

I gave a half-chuckle, which was an effort, given my emotional state. "Animal spirits that have been trying to get some lessons through this thick head of mine." I sighed (it seemed that I was doing that a lot more often, which might have been a result of my emotional turmoil). "I guess I'm sometimes a little too stubborn for my own good."

"I understand if you feel overwhelmed at times," Jackie offered. "I went through it, too." She realized what she'd said. "Not as bad as you had it, but it was still pretty overwhelming." She paused to see if I was going to take offense. Seeing no reaction from me, she continued, "I had a period where nothing was right, everything was wrong, my life was totally hosed, and nobody listened to what I felt or needed. At least, that's the way it felt to me."

We resumed walking. "Yeah, that's what it feels like. I feel - completely out of control, and overwhelmed." After a long pause, I continue. "How did you do it? How did you cope with feeling like that?"

Jackie smiled. "My motto."

"Your motto?"

" Illegitimi non carborundum," Jackie's smile turned into a grin. "Don't let the bastards win."

"Yeah, like that's going to help. Hardass hates me, Security is watching me like a hawk, Carson basically told me that she can't be bothered with my problems and that if I messed up again, she might have to expel me. I'm stuck in classes I've already had, with teachers who have bad attitudes ...."

"Whoa," Jackie interrupted cautiously. "Who's got the bad attitude?"

I stopped and stared at her, open-mouthed, for a moment. "Me," I admitted softly when I'd recovered from the shock of her question. "But I'm not the only one. Ms. Seever was really nasty at me, like her attitude was my fault!"

"I bet you two spun each other up. You were starting out frustrated about retaking English I, and I bet she picked up on that, so she pushed you a little bit because you had a bad attitude. That only made your attitude worse, which in turn made her more upset. Am I right?"

Damn, for a high-school sophomore, Jackie was pretty sharp. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Just go along with their stupid little games and try not to let them get to you," Jackie advised further. She halted on the sidewalk outside the classroom building. "I hope you can make it from here to your room," she said cheerfully. "I've got to run so I'm not late for _my_ class." She gave me a quick hug and then walked off.

The hug made me feel a bit better. No wonder girls can get so huggy. I wondered how long it would be before I was a hugger all the time, too. Probably not long, based on recent experiences with the art of the hug. I had to half-chuckle at a rather silly thought; there was an ancient Chinese book by Sun Tzu called "The Art of War'. Perhaps there was a companion volume by his wife called "The Art of the Hug?"

The effects of the embrace wore off the moment a slush-ball hit my neck. I flinched from the blow, and then shivered as the stinging-cold ice crystals and cold water began to slide down my neck into the back of my blouse. I spun instinctively, looking to see who had thrown it at me, even as I tried to wipe the sloppy mess off my neck.

It could have been any one of dozens of students. My usual tormenters, TK, Truck, Nitro, and Cagliostro, weren't in immediate sight, but that wasn't to say that one of them hadn't thrown it and ducked quickly out of sight. TK even could have thrown it from further, using his telekinetic power to hurl the slushy mess at me. Or, what was an even worse thought, the number of people who'd decided to make my life miserable had grown.

"Stay positive?" I asked myself. "Yeah, right! Like that's going to be easy." With wet hair and wetness seeping into my blouse and coat, I walked the rest of the way to class, ignoring all the students around me who were chuckling after seeing me clocked with the slush-ball, and who were pointing at my wet clothing and hair.

The classroom for the Powers Theory class was small, because there weren't many students in this term. Apparently, it was very much in demand in the fall terms, but only had one section in the spring. I glanced around, and then sat in as out-of-the-way place as I could, because first, I didn't recognize anybody in the class and second, the way my day had gone so far, I didn't want to attract any undue attention.

Naturally, Murphy's Law was messing with me even here. I had just opened my book when I saw a shadow loom over me. I looked up, and saw a very large, ornery-looking kid scowling down at me. "You're in my spot," he growled.

"Sorry," I muttered, quickly gathering up my things. "I'm new, so I didn't realize ...."

"Why didn't you just wait until everyone was seated before stealing someone else's chair?" he snarled angrily right back at me.

I stood, torn between angry defiance and meekly slinking off. When I looked up, and up, and even further up at the boy who was well over six and a half feet tall, I decided on the latter course of action. "Sorry," I muttered before slipping off. I went back to the front of the room, glancing around nervously, hearing the titters and guffaws as students made fun of my faux pas. I felt my anger growing at being the butt of the joke, and at feeling like an outsider - again.

"Is there a problem with the seating?"

I spun, and saw that the instructor, Dr. Quintain according to my schedule, was staring at me. Gulp - another screw-up, and more unwanted attention and humiliation in front of my class. Why the hell couldn’t I just fade into the woodwork for a class or two and be left alone? "Er, I just started, and I wasn't sure what seats were taken." The soft chuckles let me know how amusing others found my situation.

Dr. Quintain looked at me, and then down at the papers in his hand. After shuffling through them a bit, he pulled one sheet out and read it. "Ah, yes, I see. You would be Kayda Franks, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"See me after class to make a catch-up plan for your work here." Without another word, he walked to a desk in the front of the classroom, set down his papers, and walked to the board, starting his lecture and summarily dismissing me.

The only chairs open were, surprise, surprise, front-and-center. I slid into one and organized my things, all while Dr. Quintain droned on with his lecture.

Fifth period Powers Theory was even more of a waste of my time than English had been. Dr. Quintain might have been a great researcher and a powers expert, but as a lecturer, he sucked. Really sucked. NASA vacuum-chamber quantity of suck. His delivery was monotone, with not the slightest inflection to arouse even a hint of interest in the students. Half the time he spoke, he was addressing the board he was writing on, so the lecture came out as, "mumble mumble mumble pattern mumble mumble energizing mumble mumble mumble dimensions mumble...." It only took a few minutes, though, to realize that he was essentially reciting the book word-for-word, so following along was suddenly easier. Because my reading speed was so much improved, I read the day's topic in about fifteen minutes, and then was able to go back to the beginning of the book to start catching up.

Once class was over, and the threat of lecture-induced narcolepsy had faded, I walked to the front of the class while everyone else filed past me and out of the nap chamber. "You want to talk to me, Dr. Quintain?" I asked, trying to not sound snippy or rude.

"Yes. Miss Franks, is it?" He looked at some notes in a loose-leaf binder. "Yes, I see." He looked back up. "You have two weeks of lecture material to learn, and two quizzes to take. Additionally, there is a chapter test on Friday, assuming you're prepared. Per policy, I can give you one half day of grace period for every two days of class you missed."

I thought a moment about the lecture and the book from which the lectures came verbatim. "Can I have a couple of days to see how I'm doing for catch-up? I have nine classes that I'm behind on."

"Nine?" Dr. Quintain expressed the closest thing to emotion that I'd seen since I first saw him. "That's an unusually heavy course load."

I nodded. "That's what Mrs. Hawkins gave me. The worst part is that, even though I had been getting college credit in grad-school level math back home, she put me in Algebra 1. And even though I'm technically a sophomore, she put me in English I."

Dr. Quintain seemed lost in thought, scratching his chin for a moment. "Did you say grad-school level math?" I nodded. "By chance, do you have any experience with ten- and twelve-dimensional quasi-hyperbolic projections and isomorphic transformational maps to and from a lower-dimensional Lie space?"

I didn't understand exactly what he'd said, but I had a very good idea. "Is that related higher-dimension hyper-geometric encryption theory?"

Dr. Quintain's eyebrows shot up. "It's considerably more involved, but essentially, it's a very closely related problem. The major challenge in pattern theory is to generate a set of independent basis functions and then try to find one or more isomorphic mapping function that are consistent with observed results in our four-dimensional space. We're trying to decrypt the pattern mapping in a way that's consistent with our current power theories and mutation effects." He looked at me for a moment. "Do you have a work-study assignment yet?"

I shook my head. "With nine courses, when would I have time for work-study?"

"Perhaps something should be done about that," Dr. Quintain said, stroking his chin absently as he stared off into space.

"I have to get to my next class." I hurried out of the room so I wouldn't be late for the power theory lab. Fortunately, it was just down the hall, so hopefully, no-one would think that I needed a babysitter to walk sixty feet. As I walked out, I heard Dr. Quintain muttering to himself in a disgusted tone, "Algebra! What a waste!" I managed to smile that at least two faculty members recognized a gross error in my class schedule. Perhaps he and Ms. Grimes would help me get things straightened out. I could only hope.

I was the last person to enter the room for powers lab, and I winced at the 'stare of authority' I got from the teacher. I scanned the room quickly, and then headed for an open seat.

"Ms. Franks?" the instructor, who my cheat-sheet had informed me was Mrs. Bohn, asked as I tried to slink unnoticed past her desk.

"Yes?" I winced as I spoke, turning to face what I figured would be her incipient wrath.

"I have assigned you to work with Adalie Vitesse for this lab," she said.

There was a low groan in the back of the room, and I turned, already feeling dismay. Whoever this Adalie was, and her name sounded French to me, she wasn't thrilled about having me as a lab partner. Had she heard about me? Had I already, in my first few days, earned a reputation that would make people _not_ want me as a lab partner?

"Yes, ma'am," I said quickly, before scurrying to an open seat near the girl who was face-palming at the prospect of having to deal with me for the rest of the term. I sat down, glanced at her, and muttered under my breath, "Why me?"

Adalie Vitesse, Charge, wasn't a bad looking girl. In fact, if I'd been a guy, I would have found her quite sexy. Her dark hair hung a little below the nape of her neck, parted on the side and swept behind her ears. Her features were classically French, with perfect lips, dainty nose, and eyes that could swallow a person's soul - at least, if that person were male and not blind. And into girls. But she had an expression of genuine scorn, which was difficult to decipher at whom it was directed.

"I'm Kayda," I whispered to introduce myself so I wouldn't cause a disturbance in the class, or at least not a bigger one than I'd already made.

"Oui," Adalie replied, sounding a bit snooty. "I know."

"Pleased, and so on," I whispered before turning my attention to the instructor. The 'rents had taught me to be polite, no matter how difficult or nasty the other person was. All that training must have been preparation for dealing with Whateley and people like Adalie. And Ms. Hartford. And Mrs. Hawkins. And ....

After a brief review of the past week's labs, Mrs. Bohn picked the topic of the week; we broke into small groups, and discussed creative ways to use the power being studied. I was grateful that the power wasn't one of mine; it was speedsters, and it turned out that Adalie had that power. Our assignment for the day - to find creative ways for speedsters to use their powers.

One of the guys in the team chuckled as he said, "You can simply run away from a fight." He paused a moment, and then wrinkled his brow. "Oh, wait. You tried that and it didn't work out so well for you, did it?" He guffawed, thinking he'd been so clever.

Adalie glared at him. "Merde," she replied acerbically. "If all you can do is to 'url insults, then per'aps you should keep your mouth shut."

I knew there was a story in that exchange, and that I'd find it sooner or later.

"Against a flier, you're in trouble," a girl observed. "He can just stay out of reach."

I couldn't resist the temptation to speak up. "Unless you use your speed to quickly get into a place with a low overhead. The flier would lose the advantage of altitude if he pursued you."

Another guy picked up on my train of thought. "I see. Yes, that might work. Without altitude, the flier might have maneuverability problems, which would give you the advantage with the speed."

The others talked about various types to battle. Against ranged attacks, like energizers usually employed, all a speedster could do is duck and weave to avoid being hit, while either getting out of range or getting close enough that the attacker no longer had the edge. Against mages or psychics, the options seemed more limited - get out of range, although a couple of creative ideas were proposed.

"If you were dealing with a powerful psychic who was listening in on your senses, what would happen if you ran really fast in a circle? Could you maybe get them disorientated or dizzy by getting yourself dizzy?" the other girl in our group suggested. It was an interesting concept.

We moved on to dealing with bricks, the supermen who were just plain hard to hurt. No-one was getting any good ideas, until I, once again, opened my mouth. "How about doing a snowspeeder on them?"

I got a lot of looks of, "Huh?" and, "What the hell are you talking about?"

I sighed heavily. So much for common cultural background. "The Empire Strikes Back? When they use the tow cables to wrap up the legs of the Imperial walkers because they can't damage them any other way?"

The light bulbs went on instantly, except for Adalie, who had to mentally cross-reference the cultural ideas.

"Mon Dieu," she exclaimed after she'd worked the mental translation. "But of course! If their legs become tangled, then they cannot walk and will fall over, or at least give the speedster more time! Merveilleuse idee!"

I honestly thought for a moment that she was going to do the French thing of kissing me on both cheeks. Actually, given her looks, I don't know that I would have minded. Of course, I didn't think Debra would like me kissing another girl.

The group discussed this idea, including possible pitfalls, for several more minutes before moving on. All in all, the class was sort-of fun, but since my powers were magic-based, I didn't see that I was learning anything useful.

A few minutes before class was dismissed, as other groups were finishing their assignments, Adalie turned to me. "Your English, it is very good, and you have almost no accent."

I'm sure the expression on my face said, 'what'chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?' I asked for clarification. "Pardon? Why wouldn't I speak good English?"

"Are you not Indian?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah," I answered, "I'm Indian, but we ...." The light flashed on. "Oh, you mean from India, not American Indian!" I chuckled. "No, I'm not from the subcontinent. I'm an American Indian, or Native American as we prefer."

Adalie's cheeks flushed red. "Oh, pardon! I did not mean to be insulting." At the same time, the look in her eyes changed, from what seemed to be grudging acceptance of me to disdain or even scorn.

"No biggie," I replied. She didn't answer, but turned that cute little Gallic nose up just a trifle, enough to let me know what she thought of Americans. All Americans. Either that, or she was embarrassed about having mistaken me for someone from India because of my skin coloration.

Outside the lab, Elaine, Delta Spike, was waiting for me, easily recognizable in her standard devisor uniform, the Whateley lab coat. I wondered how someone had managed to pry her from the devisor labs to take escort duty, because of the stories from the Sioux Falls League made it sound like devisors and gadgeteers had to be forcibly removed from their labs to perform basic functions like eating, sleeping, and sometimes, even using the bathroom. Elaine looked like a classic devisor - long dark hair held up in an unflattering style, unattractive glasses, and the ever-present rumpled lab coat that was the staple of the Whateley labs. I absently wondered for a moment what she'd look like if she let her hair down, lost the professorial specs, and shed the lab coat. I imagined that she'd be pretty hot.

That thought was immediately interrupted by the cold water of reality. I was thinking like a guy again, someone who would have really enjoyed ogling Elaine, but now I was a girl. Confusion reared its ugly head once more. Was I a full-fledged member of the sisterhood, a lesbian who was still driven by years of socialization to look at and think of girls as dating material and potential sexual partners, and thus looking at Elaine with attraction and, dare I say it, lust? Or was I just going through a phase as my thought patterns and feelings transitioned to being fully female, and I would eventually find myself attracted to boys? The latter thought filled me with terror, which wasn't surprising given the events I'd lived through.

Aw, to hell with the over-analyzing things. At the moment, I was really into the female figure in all its splendor, so I might as well enjoy it. If my preferences changed in the future, I'd deal with that then. I stole more than a few sideways glances at her to more properly appreciate what she had to offer, even if it was hidden by her getup.

"How can you smile coming out of Powers Theory and Powers Lab?" Elaine asked, baffled by the slight grin I had.

"The lecture in Power Theory was awful," I admitted, carefully steering away from the subject, which was that my grin had been from staring at her, "but afterward, Dr. Quintain and I were talking, and I told him that I had been doing graduate level math. Maybe, just maybe, he was impressed enough to help me get out of repeating algebra. And the lab was kind of interesting." I was not about to tell her that I was thinking of what she'd look like in the nude.

"Where are you going now?" Elaine asked.

"Intro electronics theory."

"I thought that was fourth period."

I shrugged. "I'm having to do the independent study because my day classes are all full thanks to Mrs. Hawkins."

"Wow! Seven classes a week?"

I shook my head resignedly. "Plus an evening French class, and costume class on Saturday morning. Total of nine classes."

"Someone must really hate you," Elaine said, grimacing. We took an elevator down to the tunnels.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to get that feeling, too. According to Jinn, it's probably Hartford, because Charlie Lodgeman was involved in getting my paperwork approved, and she doesn't like Mr. Lodgeman at all."

Elaine snorted derisively. "She doesn't like _anyone_!"

"That's what I've heard."

"So, what are you going to do?"

I shrugged. "Go to classes, and try to meet with Mrs. Hawkins again to see if she'll actually look at my transcripts and listen."

"You might want to have a talk with Zenith to see if there's anything she can do to help out," she suggested.

"That's what Ayla suggested this morning," I said reluctantly. "But I already owe her a ton for just my first few days. If I have to keep asking favors, I'll owe her my soul or something!"

Elaine chuckled loudly. "Not Zenith. She doesn't deal in souls. But if Sara was our fixer, you might have to worry."

"Sara?"

"Yeah, Sara Waite. She used to live in Poe, and hung out with the Kimbas. She's a full-fledged demon."

"A ... demon?" After what I'd dealt with already, the thought of a resident demon at Whateley made me more than a bit nervous.

"Yeah, a lust demon. If _she_ was the fixer ...."

I laughed uneasily, like it was a joke, but inside, I was trembling. I wondered what Wakan Tanka would think of the fact that there was a demon here.

"She is the Kellith," Wakan Tanka interrupted my thoughts. "I sensed her when we first arrived on the school grounds."

"Who, or what, is the Kellith?"

"She is the daughter of Gothmog, the demon of lust and sex."

"Is ... is she a danger to me?" I asked nervously. I wasn't relishing the sudden thought that I'd have to fight another demon.

"No. Gothmog and the Kellith have always been neutral, and they are powerful enough that they cannot be corrupted by demons like Unhcegila and Kigatilik."

"Oh." Something else came to mind. "I thought you weren't going to intrude on my thoughts."

Wakan Tanka smiled. "You _were_ wondering what I would think. If you hadn't intended to call me to speak, then you should have been more careful in controlling your thoughts." She sounded a trifle smug.

I snapped back from the dream-world to reality, and realized that only a second or so had passed. Elaine hadn't even noticed my temporary absence.

"Who'd you get assigned as a lab partner in Powers Lab?"

"Some French girl. Adalie something. She goes by Charge." I frowned. "And Mrs. Bohn had the assignment on a paper that looked like school letterhead. You don't suppose ...."

It was Elaine's turn to shrug. "After a few terms here, Kayda, I quit believing in coincidences."

"What do you know about her?"

"Same as the rest of the Berets. Hates America and Americans. In Charge's case, it's worse than the others for some reason, but nobody knows why. Not even Ayla, and Ayla is kind of an honorary Beret because the Goodkinds have a lot of business dealings in Europe. Charge is also a non-violent, but without the paperwork, so she had to fight in the combat finals, and she got her ass handed to her. It wasn't a pretty sight."

"Um, Debra, I mean Cornflower, told me about the combat finals." I paused, thinking about what Elaine had said. "Was Charge's combat final really that bad?"

"Even with some serious healing magic, she had to spend the night in the hospital. Yeah, it was bad. She got herself on the administration's shit list." Elaine paused beside a door, one that looked like so many other doors they'd passed in the underground maze. "Here's the electronics lab. Have fun." She paused, and I knew why. "Are you ... one of us?" she blurted out.

My eyes bugged out and my mouth was agape at the question she was asking. "Am I ... one of ...?" So she was as blatant as Rosalyn, and was asking if I was a lesbian?

"A gadgeteer or devisor," Elaine added when she saw me looking confused. "Because I heard that you do the magic thing."

I smiled. "My MID lists me as a gadgeteer-4. Yeah, I'm one of the lab-coat crew." I could see Elaine's shock at the nickname. "Debra and the rest of the Sioux Falls League told me lots of stories about Whateley, including about some of the organizations and groups. So I know that the devisors and gadgeteers are sometimes called the 'lab-coat crew', or at least they used to be."

Independent study turned out to be a study-hall type of class in the lab, with Ms. Merenis supervising, while the other four students and I worked through the materials on our own. Ms. Merenis was there as a resource for any questions relating to the course, and to grade the lab-work that was also done in the classroom.

When I first walked in, Ms. Merenis had expressed reservations about me being successful, since it was independent study, and I was starting the term late, and I had a very large class load. To make matters worse, I was wearing a uniform and _no_ lab coat, unlike the other students. She wasn't sure that I belonged in the class. When I explained that I'd been doing independent study in math for the past six years, and demonstrated knowledge of differential equations, she relaxed significantly.

Electronics was all straight-forward math. Well, once the principles and formulas were known, it was all math. Okay, so it wasn't all math. By the end of the first class study session, I had completed the first three and a half days' worth of study and homework, and I was ready to do my first lab on characterizing a diode's I-V curve experimentally. It would be a tedious process – measure voltage and current, plot the point, and increase the voltage by a small increment, repeating until the diode's breakdown voltage was reached. Personally, I would have preferred to gather six to eight data points and do a curve fit, which I could probably do in my head, but I wasn't allowed that easier option.

While the electronics students were doing our classwork, every so often a student in a lab coat would peek in, look around, and then go to Ms. Merenis. At one point, one of the class went to ask Ms. Merenis a question while a non-class student was talking with her about something devise-related. She immediately switched mental gears, and the non-class devisor stepped back to allow the class student to speak with her. Once that discussion was completed, the devisor resumed his very quiet but animated conversation. I had to admire her for the way she multi-tasked, and the way the non-class students knew that they were lower priority than us electronics students.

When class was over, nobody from Poe was at the lab to provide the required escort. I waited patiently, and noticed that Ms. Merenis was getting more and more impatient as time marched forward. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she bluntly asked, "Are you going to leave the classroom? I need to lock it up and get back to supervising my lab."

I flinched. "Uh, I can't leave. Not yet, anyway."

"Why not?"

"Um, security rules. I have to have an escort, because I can't be left alone."

"Oh? Is it something about your mutation?"

I lowered my gaze. "No. I'm on a ... suicide watch," I said softly, almost inaudibly.

"I see." She sounded a lot more understanding at that.

"After I manifested, I ... had some very bad experiences. Dr. Bellows says I have PTSD, so ...."

"Oh. Okay. I understand." Thankfully, she didn't press the issue any further; I wasn't about to start telling anyone and everyone about the rape and beatings. Even though she was a faculty member, news, discussions, and gossip among the teachers was occasionally overheard by other students. At least it had been in my old school, and I'd seen nothing that convinced me that the same wouldn't be true here as well.

I turned my attention back to my class work, since I had an indeterminate wait ahead of me. A few minutes later, a girl poked her head into the room. "Kayda?" she asked.

Her face was a familiar one from upstairs in Poe but I didn't know her well. She was short, with Oriental features and straight, blue-black hair. She moved with cat-like grace, as if her entire body was a well-honed weapon. "Yeah. You're ... Cascade?"

The girl smiled and nodded. "I'm your escort."

"Great." I glanced up, and saw that Ms. Merenis nodded to me. Grabbing my backpack, I quick-stepped out of the class, following Cascade into the tunnels. "Can we hustle it? I have a ton of homework to catch up, and I've got a late French class after dinner."

"Sure," Cascade said, and she started walking even quicker, causing me to trot to try catch up to her.

After several turns in the tunnels, which weren't familiar from the trip _to_ class, I paused. "Are you sure this is the right way?"

Cascade turned to me, smiled ... and vanished!

I looked around myself, and when I didn't see her, I began to feel a strong sense of panic. Was this another ambush? Were there attackers waiting around the corner? What the hell was going on? And not only was I now alone in the tunnels and vulnerable, but I was also was lost.

After several long moments of waiting for some type of ambush attack, I managed to calm myself enough to walk back to the classroom, but I wasn't quite certain of directions, and I took a few wrong turns. By the time I found the electronics classroom, the door was shut and locked, and no-one was around. "Damn!" I cursed.

For twenty-five minutes, I wandered around in the tunnels, trying one tunnel after another, and as my sense of desperation rose, my sense of direction faltered. I'd find a dead-end, or a restricted lab, and turn around, only to feel like I had taken yet another wrong turn, because nothing looked familiar. I found an elevator, but when I pressed the button to rise to a tunnel closer to the surface, the movement felt very disorientating, like the car was moving a different direction from what I'd expected. I stumbled out of the elevator car feeling nauseated from motion sickness. It was weird; I'd never gotten motion-sick before.

I heard something ahead of me, down a side tunnel, so with relief, I gratefully moved to the sound. Surely someone could give me directions.

A big sign on the wall read, 'Restricted Lab Area - Clearance Required'. Right next to the sign was a security officer, sitting on a stool, a book open in his lap.

"Can you give me directions to get back to Schuster?" I pleaded, halting a couple of feet from him.

He was on his feet, and his hand was lowered toward his sidearm, while he eyed me cautiously. "Do you have clearance for this area?" he asked, his eyes narrowed into menacing slits.

"No, and I don't _want_ to get in here. I got lost, and I just want to get directions back to Schuster Hall," I replied, emphasizing that I was merely looking for some assistance.

The slow motion of his hand toward his sidearm halted, but didn't reverse itself. I briefly wondered what in the world was down in these restricted labs that would require an armed guard. "Go back to the main tunnel, turn to your right, and then ...." His eyes narrowed again. "Hey, aren't you the Buffalo Gal?" he asked, frowning.

"My name is Kayda, not Buffalo Gal," I protested sternly, fighting my rising anger. "And ...."

He nodded, his expression never changing. "I thought so." He reached for his radio.

**********

Kane Hall

"Honest, Chief," I protested strongly, feeling my emotional control starting to slip, "I was waiting in class, and then Cascade came to escort me back. Then she vanished, and everything started to get really weird."

"We reviewed the footage from the security cameras. None of the cameras show anyone with you. Further, we received a report from Cascade that you were missing from your rendezvous point in the electronics lab." The Chief was leaning forward, elbows on his desk and an intent expression on his face.

"I swear, Chief, I was following Cascade right up until she vanished!" I was angry and confused, but not distraught. Not yet, anyway. I was trying my best to fight those damned tears that seemed to always come when I was dealing with security.

Chief Delarose stared at me in silence for a few awkward moments, before lowering his forehead into his upturned palm, while shaking his head slowly back and forth, his gaze fixed on his desk. "What am I going to do with you, Kayda?" he asked rhetorically.

One of the security officers poked her head into Delarose's office. "We double-checked the security footage. She was alone."

I glanced up, and recoiled from the woman's appearance. Her face was heavily scarred, as if parts of it had been through a meat grinder, and one eye was covered with a patch. Jagged, ugly lines broke up her features; I got the impression that, before whatever accident or assault had befallen her, she had been attractive. I felt a stab of pity, which I think she recognized in my face, because her frown hardened as if to say, 'How dare you pity me!'

Delarose looked up at her for a moment. "Thanks, McGraw." He turned his gaze back to me as Officer McGraw withdrew from his office. "Kayda, over the past few days, you've displayed a bad habit of ignoring restrictions and rules, and wandering off by yourself. This morning, you left Fey and Phase in Kirby Hall instead of walking with them."

"Chief, honest! I swear that Cascade came to get me!"

"If it's not showing up on the tape, then how do you explain it?"

"I don't know," I answered, starting to lose my composure. "Some kind of magic or something? Someone who could teleport away pretending to be her?"

"And somehow, the elevators took you down instead of up, so you were in the fourth level restricted biolab area?"

"I guess. I don't really know how I ended up where I was." Nervous didn't begin to describe how I felt. This was more than a little scary. "I was sure I was following Cascade, but somehow, I ... I don't know. Maybe someone is trying to get me in trouble?"

"I hate to have to ask this again, Kayda," Delarose said, looking a bit embarrassed, "but would you consent to a psychic check to determine the veracity of your story?"

"Like I have any secrets from Fubar, as often as he's in my head." I sighed heavily. "Maybe I should start charging rent."

Louis Geintz appeared in a chair beside me, startling me, but not as much as the first time he'd appeared. "I'm a lousy tenant," he said with a smile.

"Let's get this over with."

Chief Delarose pressed a button on his phone. "Emily, can you come here for a few minutes?" With Kayda in the Chief's office, Emily must have been waiting to be called in.

"I see you missed us," Emily said, winking at me.

I groaned. "I'm trying to stay away, but stuff keeps happening."

Emily focused on Mr. Geintz. "Another possible psychic incident?"

Louis shook his head. "With Kayda's defenses against psychic attacks, it's doubtful. Her story, however, indicates that _something_ unusual happened."

"Standard procedure to have a second witness,"
Delarose explained tersely.

In moments, Mr. Geintz had gone through my memories with me, replaying the entire event three times as he examined my thoughts and feelings. It was just as disorientating on the replays as the original event had been. The biggest problem, which I hadn't noted at the time, was that the walls, landmarks, and other features seemed to keep changing. I'd go down a blind corridor, but when I returned to the intersection I'd left, it looked different, making it almost impossible for me to retrace my steps.

Mr. Geintz withdrew from my consciousness. "Kayda _thought_ she was following Cascade. She wasn't ignoring the rules. There is no evidence of psychic tampering or memory alteration."

"Like Tatanka would permit that anyway," I added.

The wrinkles in Chief Delarose's forehead didn't lessen; if anything, they deepened. "Okay, Kayda. I've got enough information for the report. And no," he added quickly when he noticed me stiffen in my seat, "you're not in trouble. This time." I rose with Emily, and we started out the door. "Oh, and let Emily copy your MID for our records while you're here."

Chief Delarose gave me a smile when I left his office, but there was something behind that smile, some look in his eyes that bespoke some serious concern. The hair on my neck seemed to be at attention, trying to give me warning that there was a lot more to this than some confusion.

It only took Emily a few moments to copy my MID, after which she escorted me back to Poe. I got a lot of strange looks from the residents when she brought me there.

"What did you do this time, Kayda," Mrs. Horton asked as soon as Emily was out of earshot. "Cascade reported that you were nowhere to be found after your class, and then security drags you in."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Horton," I said with a sigh, feeling exhausted. "I _thought_ I was following Cascade back here." I quickly recounted the tale to her. "And then Emily brought me here."

She just shook her head. "You seem to be a magnet for trouble. Try not to worry us – at least for the rest of the day?" she teased.

"I'll try," I replied, feeling a little ashamed of the trouble I was causing her. I trudged upstairs to my room, and sat down, pulling out my books. Despite a little misadventure, I still had homework to do - two weeks of catch-up in all my classes. Plus there was the crap with my schedule. At least I didn't have to worry about Algebra I or English, even if being in those classes was insulting.

I was emotionally exhausted, and a bit tired physically as well. Wandering around the tunnels, feeling more frantic by the minute, burned a lot of mental and emotional energy. Yawning, I opened my Powers Theory book to start the laborious process of catching up.

**********

Kane Hall

Chief Delarose:

"Okay, Foob," Delarose continued once the door had shut behind Kayda and Emily, "what's on your mind?"

"What makes you think that there's something on my mind?"

Delarose shook his head. "Enough games, Foob. I've had a long day."

"Okay, Chief," Louis Geintz said. "If there was psychic influence, it was very, very subtle, at a level that Tatanka and I couldn't detect it. The only other possibility is a series of illusions cast by a very skilled magic user."

"Which one do you think it was?"

"Both."

The Chief's eyes widened in surprise. "Both?"

Louis nodded grimly. "She didn't realize it, but when I searched her memories, I saw that each time she went through an intersection or junction in the tunnels, it was slightly different, so it would disorient her. Someone was trying to get her away from her escort and get her lost."

Delarose frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know. There are two possibilities that I'm worried about. First, and the less serious, is that someone or something really wants to get Kayda out of here, and by getting her in trouble with security and with the administration, she'll be expelled."

"Why? She's no threat to anyone here."

"No, but she has two very important Native American spirits. Some might fear her, because her presence might upset tribal politics and shamans. Some might want to control her, to get her to the reservation and under their thumb."

"And the general bullying? Is that tied in?"

"I'm not sure. It might be normal hazing, but it might be part of the intimidation, too." He shook his head, even though it wasn't necessary. "I can't tell."

"And the second possibility?" Chief Delarose sounded worried about having to ask a question to which he was certain he already knew the answer.

"Did you read the reports from her trip here? The psychic attack by the snake demon was by a high-level Native American demon, and it was intended to be fatal. The attack by the water panther, the Mishibijiw, was also intended to be fatal."

"Yes, I read them. And you think the deception could have been intended to isolate Kayda to kill her?"

Fubar nodded. "It is possible."

Delarose let his head droop as he shook it side-to-side slowly. "Great. So we've got a student who has issues with authority figures, who my security team actively dislikes because of her buffalo, who is on a suicide watch but tends to run off by herself, and who someone or something is either trying to push out of Whateley, or kill her, or both, is that it?" He shook his head again. "I thought _I_ had it rough as a teenager. Damn. So what do we do, besides file a report with Carson?"

"There's not much we can do, except to watch for any signs of psychic influence on her. I’ll have a talk with Dr. Bellows, too. Until we have some answers, I don't want him taking her off suicide watch even if he thinks she can handle it, because that would make her more vulnerable if she moves about campus alone."

END of Chapter 1

Kayda 2 - Trials of a Warrior, Chapter 2 - Hehaka

Author:

Elrod

Audience Rating:

Mature Subjects (pg15)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Whateley Academy by Maggie Finson, et al

TG Themes:

Stuck

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A Whateley Tale

Kayda 2 - Trials of a Warrior

Chapter 2 - Hehaka

ElrodW

Monday, March 19, 2007, late afternoon

Poe Cottage

Kayda:

Clouds roiled in the sky, blotting out the sun and casting the landscape into darkened shadows, while the same wind that stirred the cauldron of gray overhead blew hard on the ground, scattering lifeless and dried leaves from the few trees near a small river. I braced myself against the cool breeze, turning my face to the side to avoid at least part of the chilling wind, and stepped cautiously down the path toward the banks of the river. For some reason, it seemed important that I come to this spot.

"Wakan Tanka!" I cried, but my mentor didn't appear. "Wakan Tanka!"

Cautiously, I walked along the bank of the river, my eyes peeled for anything unusual. I felt the spirit of the air moving, disturbed and angry, but the earth spirit was calm, only telling me of my own presence. Nearby, the water spirit was silent, offering not a clue as to its presence.

"Tatanka!" I called out, but the white bison didn't answer, nor did he appear.

Something disturbed the water spirit, something that I wasn't familiar with, and I turned to the river in time to see a part of the wind-rippled surface explode in a boiling frenzy. I stood, enraptured by the strange spectacle, while something began to emerge from the bubbling waters.

I backed up in horror when I saw the creature clawing its way from the deep, its black, panther-like claws tearing at the water surface, while its eyes focused intently on me. The cat-like face snarled, baring its sharp teeth. Behind the creature's head, a body slowly emerged, a sleek, wet black fur-covered body with a row of reptilian spines down its back. Behind the body, something flicked hard, disturbing the water from below, and the scaly, snake-like tail with its copper-covered daggers momentarily broke the surface as it swished powerfully back and forth, helping propel the creature through the once-peaceful water.

I began to back from the water's edge, my eyes riveted on the monstrous spectacle coming slowly through the water toward me. I knew from experience that it could move much faster than it was currently moving; it seemed to be silently stalking me, even though I was staring right at it.

The creature's eyes, never wavering from me, burned with the fire of an insane rage, while it hissed as the roiling of the river's surface stopped and the creature began to glide through the suddenly-still water, making a noise something between a low cat's growl and the hissing of a serpent.

"Wakan Tanka!" I cried again, but still my mentor didn't answer, nor did Tatanka when I summoned him. Still focusing on the Mishibijiw coming toward me, I reached for my knife, Wakan Mila, but when I came up empty-handed, I panicked and looked down. Even the sheath of my magic knife was missing from my belt.

"Tatanka!" I cried again, more desperately this time.

The Mishibijiw began to stalk gracefully up the bank of the river, still staring intently at me. My backward steps became quicker, until I turned to bolt from the scene, only to freeze at the sight confronting me.

A second Mishibijiw stood in the path I'd trod only moments before, and as I watched, horror-stricken, it split into two water panthers, who separated to either side of the patht. With the one that had come out of the water, I was neatly trapped in the center of a triangle.

"Mishibijiw," I cried as I turned around in a circle, looking at all three creatures as they slunk closer and closer, "I am not your enemy!"

"You killed our brother," the wet Mishibijiw closest to the river hissed.

"No!" I cried out, still slowly turning. "Something touched it, and made it evil and insane!"

"You killed our brother," the three cats hissed in unison.

"Tatanka! Help!" I cried again desperately, to no avail.

As the cats neared, I cast my shield spell, because I knew how quickly they could move, and I couldn't see all of them at once. The shield was just in time, as one of the tails smashed into the shield, sending me flying to bounce off the trunk of a large tree. Dazed, I looked to run, but the Mishibijiw had moved, keeping me centered in their trap. Again, a tail lashed out, and I tried to dodge it, but it was too quick, and I was dashed against an outcropping of rock. My magic shield took most of the blow, but I felt some come through to my back.

"Tatanka! Help!" I cried once more, knowing that I was powerless against three of the water panthers without help. Still, my companion spirit didn't answer, nor did he appear.

The three cats closed in on me slowly, in perfect unison. "You killed our brother!" the all hissed.

"No," I protested, trying frantically to reason with the killers. "The spawn of Unhcegila drove it insane, until it attacked me without reason!"

"It was YOU who killed our brother! And now you will pay for that transgression!" The cats continued to close on me, easily moving to cut me off when I tried to dash through a gap between two of them. I got the impression that they were toying with me like a cat plays with a mouse - and I was cast in the role of the mouse.

I bolted upright from where my head was resting on an open book, sweating heavily and looking around to reorient myself. Frantic gasping for breath slowed as reality came back to me. I was sitting at my desk in my room in Poe Cottage. I'd been studying, and had been quite exhausted. I must have fallen asleep, which meant that my experience was probably a nightmare.

But why? Why a battle with Mishibijiw, and why wouldn't my spirits help me?

I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt Ptesanwi's spirit in me, but then I panicked when I couldn't sense Tatanka's. Why was my buffalo spirit gone, and to where?

A scream in the hallway disrupted my thinking, muffled as it was by my closed door. Scrambling, I yanked the door open, just in time to see Sharisha and Vox tearing down the hall, still screaming, pursued by Tatanka.

"Beltane!" Vox screamed aloud as she ran.

I ducked back into my room, closing the door behind me, and calling to Tatanka to return. Instantly, I felt his spirit back inside me. I was curious to look in the hallway, to see what Tatanka had done, but I chickened out, returning instead to my desk to hide myself in my school work. As long as some of the girls thought it was Beltane pranking them again, I was temporarily safe from retribution or anger. Temporarily. Eventually, everyone would talk, exchange notes that it was _my_ buffalo because some of the girls knew about Tatanka, and then I'd be in trouble - either with my cottage-mates, or worse, with security and the administration for not controlling my manifested Tatanka. But I knew I had to ask what Tatanka had done, and why.

The breeze gently brushed my skin, and the sun's rays warmed my cheeks as I stood in the mountain meadow. "Tatanka!" I called to him.

The big white bison lumbered slowly out of the trees, shambling my way. It was almost as if he sensed that I was a little unhappy. "Yes, Wihakayda?" he asked as he approached me.

"I have a question." I sat down, gesturing for him to lie beside me. "When I woke from my nap, you were manifested. Why?"

Tatanka looked at me. "I sensed danger, and I came to the real world to protect you."

"I was having a nightmare!" I told the white bison. "It wasn't real!'

The bison lowered his head, looking ashamed. "I couldn't tell." Then he looked defiantly at me. "I couldn't take a chance, so I came to protect you."

"What did you do?"

"I chased off the Mishibijiw."

"They weren't real! It was a nightmare!" Oh crap, I was really in trouble with this - if my dreams and nightmares caused Tatanka to manifest.

"They were real to your mind," Tatanka replied. "I had my duty to protect you."

I gasped in surprise. "Those were my cottage-mates!" I buried my face in my hands. "Oh, crap! How am I going explain _this_ one? I'm gonna be in _deep_ trouble!"

**********

Crystal Hall

"You are awfully quiet this evening," Vasiliy noted between bites, staring at me with his lava-colored eyes.

"Long day," I acknowledged tersely. "And it's not over."

"Oh?" Adrian asked just before he shoved the last bite of a burger in his mouth.

"Yeah. I've got an evening French class for my language requirement," I groaned.

"They give you four years to get two years of language. Aren't they pushing you a little hard?" Laurie asked the obvious question.

"That's what I said, but Mrs. Hawkins wouldn't budget, and I can't get an appointment with the administration until Wednesday at the earliest," I added bitterly. "And it's three, since technically, I'm a sophomore - if I can ever get anyone to actually look at my transcripts! I swear they're trying to push me out of this place."

"Don't let the bastards win," Evvie replied, trying to encourage me.

"Yeah," Naomi added. "There are too many of us students to keep track of individually."

"Except the ones who have problems with security every single day," I countered with a scowl.

"Don't try to do everything in one day," Laurie advised, trying to keep me looking at things more positively. "How long did they give you to get caught up?"

"A week."

"There you go! Use that time. Don't try to kill yourself trying to do it sooner."

"But you don't understand!" I protested with a sigh, shaking my head slowly as I fought fatigue and a bit of homesickness. "I'm ... I feel like an idiot in my classes. I'm so far behind, and all the other students look at me like I'm stupid when I have to ask a question over stuff they've already covered!" Words alone couldn't express my frustration. I'd been the smart one in all my classes up to that point. Now, I felt below average. It really hit at my sense of self-worth.

"You know you're not dumb," Evvie countered sharply.

"What's worse is that there are so many cool classes I'd like to take, but I'm stuck wasting my time with repeats of what I did last year! What the hell was I thinking?" I moaned softly. "I should have never come here!"

Evvie and Naomi exchanged glances. "Okay, Kayda," Evvie said in a motherly tone, "what happened?"

I knew they'd figure out something was wrong, sooner or later. "I almost got in trouble with security again. Somebody used an illusion or something to make me think I was following Cascade back from electronics class, and I ended up alone and lost in the tunnels."

Evvie's and Naomi's eyes widened at her revelation. "So ... then what?"

"I managed to find a security guard at some restricted lab, and when he recognized me, he called for backup. They sent four armed guards to take me back to Kane to meet with Chief Delarose. Four!" I looked down, embarrassed by how I'd been treated like I was a serious threat.

"Security does everything in teams of two or four. It's standard operating procedure," Laurie said to soothe my embarrassment. She knew, somehow, that the presence of four officers had made me feel like a criminal, like security viewed me as a dangerous trouble-maker where significant force might be required, which they probably did.

"Chief Delarose read me the riot act about being alone and violating my restrictions, but after Mr. Geintz did his psychic voodoo, they must have realized that I was telling the truth, because I didn't get in trouble, and they had Emily escort me back to Poe." I leaned my head into my hands, my thumbs and my interlaced fingers forming a triangle to cradle my face. "This was all a big mistake," I said again, shaking my head slowly. "Security doesn't trust me, Mrs. Carson doesn't trust me, Dr. Bellows doesn't ...." I lifted my head suddenly, my mouth agape and a completely shocked expression on my face. "Oh, crap!" I exclaimed sharply. "I missed my appointment!"

"Appointment?"

"With Dr. Bellows!" I cried, leaping to my feet, instantly despairing the consequences that I'd been warned of if I missed my appointments. "They're going to kick me out now! Oh, shit, shit, shit!" I dashed from the cafeteria, panic-stricken. Maybe, just maybe, he was working late in his office, and I could get my daily meeting before I got in even more trouble. Maybe. It wasn't much, but it was the only thing I could hope for.

Laurie caught up to me as I stood waiting anxiously at the elevator, staring at the closed doors and muttering oaths at them to speed up. "Kayda, what's wrong?"

"I _have_ to meet with Dr. Bellows! It's one of the conditions they set up. If I don't see him every day, they're going to kick me out!" The elevator door slowly opened as the chime sounded, unnecessarily alerting me that a car was there.

"Kayda, you're not making any sense. Who's going to kick you out, and for what?" Laurie got in the elevator with me as I frantically pushed the button for his floor, and then with equal vigor pushed the 'door close' button, as if the urgency I felt could be communicated to the controls and somehow make the elevator move faster.

I didn't answer; I'd already told Laurie too much. Instead, I just looked down, avoiding her concerned look. When the elevator stopped and the door opened, I rushed out and down the hall to Dr. Bellows' office.

"Kayda, what's going on?" Laurie called out after me as I ran through the corridor.

As I'd feared, the door was closed and the lights were off. I tugged once at the door futilely, as if my wishing it to open would make it magically open and Dr. Bellows magically appear. I turned, my back to the door, and slowly sank down to the floor, my heart sinking with it. I started to cry, burying my face in my hands as I wept aloud. "I'm so screwed!" I cried.

Laurie stooped down beside me, her hand resting on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. "It'll be okay, Kayda," she offered. "I'm sure they're used to students missing appointments."

"You don't understand," I stammered. "I'm .... I'm on a ... special ... program, kind of ... probation."

"For what? You aren't a criminal, are you? Did you do something bad before you came here?" Laurie's voice was suddenly tinged with a bit of doubt and fear, not knowing why I'd used the term probation.

"No," I managed to blubber. "Oh, God! I'm so screwed! They're going to move me to Hawthorne, or kick me out now!"

"Wait a sec. A few minutes ago, you were complaining that you _should_ go home. Now you're afraid they're going to kick you out? You're not making any sense."

I couldn't even laugh at the absurdity of my oxymoronic comments. I was in real deep yogurt. "I ... I don't know what I want!" I cried. "I lost everything. Everything! Debra promised me that this place would be different, that I'd like it here. But even that's a lie! I don't have anything anymore!"

"It can't be that bad," Laurie tried to reassure me, unsuccessfully.

"When I manifested, I got driven out of my hometown. My friends, my school, my family, my home and hobbies - everything! My old friends tried to kill me! And ...." I couldn't go on, but instead started bawling into my hands and wondering if the brutal memories would ever stop so that I'd feel like a normal person.

I didn't have to. Laurie figured out what I meant in milliseconds. "Oh, Kayda!" she said as she sat beside me and clutched me to her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Dr. Bellows and ... and ... Louis Geintz said that I ... I ... I have some stress trauma thing, and ... and ... when the memories of ... that night came back to me, I ... had a bad panic attack." Laurie didn't say anything, but just held me tight and let me cry. "They put me ... in the hospital for a while, and now ... now they're afraid that I won't ... be able to handle the stress and ... and memories. That's why Dr. Bellows put me on ... on a suicide watch," I confessed. "That's why I'm ... supposed to meet him every day. That's why I have to have an escort all the time." I straightened myself and wiped at my tear-streaked face. "Now they're going to ... they're going to kick me out because ... I missed the meeting today ... and they don't trust me and ...."

"No, they won't, Kayda. Not for missing one appointment."

"You don't get it, do you? I've had some kind of security thing ... every day since I got here ... and the administration and security don't ... don't like me." I let my forehead tilt forward to rest on my arms atop my knees. "All I do is piss people off." I exhaled heavily and slowly. "Go back and finish your dinner. Adrian is probably worried about you."

"I can't leave ..."

"It doesn't fucking matter anymore. Don't you get it? It doesn't fucking matter! Security will be by sooner or later. Just ... go!" I'd driven myself right back into my deep funk, and I wanted to wallow in my misery. I was angry - mostly at myself for being so stupid as to miss my appointment, and I'd managed to convince myself that the world sucked, no-one else cared, and somehow, I deserved the crap that I'd had dumped on me.

"No," Laurie replied firmly. "I'm not going to go. I'm not going to let you get in trouble with security just because you've had a bad day." She stood up, grasped my arm, and tugged to pull me up. "C'mon. Get up. We're going to get you cleaned up, and then we're going back to the caf so you can finish your dinner."

"But," I stammered as I grudgingly cooperated, "what will everyone think?" There was nothing that I _could_ do except what Laurie said.

"No one else will give a shit," Laurie chided me. "Everyone has his or her own problems without spending all their time worrying about you. They won't notice. Now get your head on straight, and we're going to pretend that nothing happened at all when we go back. Okay?" When I didn't answer, or even make a motion, she put her hands on my cheeks and turned me so I was looking at her eye-to-eye. "Okay?"

I nodded slowly, not sure that I believed her. "Okay."

**********

Laurie was right; almost no-one noticed when I came back into Crystal Hall, even after a delay for her to help me clean up, wait for a little of the redness and puffiness in my eyes to fade, and redo my makeup. She was also right to call me on giving mixed signals. Did I really wish I hadn't come to Whateley, or did I really hope I didn't get kicked out or in more trouble? It couldn't be both, but I didn't know which it was.

Back in our room, Evvie and I talked at length about that very dichotomy, with Naomi silently cuddled with Evvie. Even that troubled me; if I was in Sioux Falls, I could be cuddled with Debra, and at that moment, her warm embrace and comfort was what I most needed. What did I really want? To be honest, I didn't know exactly, except some sense of normalcy and stability, which, so far, Whateley had given me none of. In fact, I hadn't had any sense of normalcy since the day I manifested - how long ago was that? It seemed like a lifetime.

Part of what bothered me was that I really missed my family, and I desperately longed to be with Debra. In the preceding three weeks, the only time I'd felt anything approaching any sense of self-worth had been when I was with her. I desperately missed her warm, accepting, loving hugs. Past the emotions, though, I knew that it would be dangerous for me to go home to my family, so I needed to feel welcome here at the special school for mutants. So far, though, Whateley had let me down on that count. The school had between five and six times as many students as my old school, so I felt a bit overwhelmed. There were some nice people I'd met and friendships were starting to form, but I still felt like I was an outsider. Never in my life had I lagged in classes; in fact, most of my life, my work was done a week or two ahead! At Whateley, though, at that moment, I felt like I was over my head, with both the class load and being so far behind. Lots of kids had awesome powers, so I felt like an underdog. I was a changeling, so I felt out-of-place with girls who'd been born as girls. I felt like I didn't belong anywhere.

The part that Evvie couldn't understand, though, was how I felt about the classes, because she was from a large city with well-funded schools and a broad diversity of offered courses. When I'd looked through the non-public website for information about Whateley, I found a veritable smorgasbord of very interesting classes, like advanced micro-machining, genetics, and dozens of other subjects that my old school would _never_ have had the resources to offer. It was like putting a gourmet spread in front of a hungry man, and then telling him he could only have bread and water. All of those fun classes had prerequisites, which I couldn't take because I was locked into a stupid schedule with classes I didn't need. The jewel of new knowledge was just beyond my fingertips, and it hurt to feel like the wonderful opportunities were being kept from me.

I had to interrupt my 'therapy session' with Evvie, Naomi, and Laurie to run to French class, and when that was over, it was late enough, and I was emotionally exhausted enough, that I decided to get ready for bed. As I was brushing my teeth, I could see two girls in the shower, using the 'special feature'. One of them finished about the time I was done at the sink, and she practically oozed out of the shower, her eyes distant and unfocused, her legs a little wobbly, and she was grinning broadly. "Hi, Kayda," she greeted me, almost purring, a silly, contented smile stuck on her face.

For a moment, I wondered if using that 'special feature' would help me relax from my self-induced stress, but then I caught myself entertaining those thoughts, and I banished them from my head with extreme prejudice, terrified of what I realized I was thinking. Using _that_ feature would be admitting that I was sexually, completely a girl.

Then I thought of Debra, of some of the things we'd done while cuddling in my dream-world. Was that so different? I'd masturbated as a guy, but not as a girl. I'd had sex as a guy, too, but never in the real-world as a girl. I strolled to my room, absently thinking of the way I'd felt, at least in dream space, when Debra and I had been together, and comparing it to what I'd seen in the showers moments ago. Would it be so different, I asked myself. Would it be so awful?

I realized that I had to do _something_ to relax, because I was getting overstressed. Laurie could see it, Evvie could see it, Naomi could see it - probably even people I didn't know could see how wound up I was.

Shit. What should I do? I figured that using the shower would be a great release, but I was terrified of doing anything that would reek of me admitting that I was a girl, fully, sexually, and completely. I was afraid that I might like it too much, or that I'd forget what I had been. I wasn't sure, despite what Wakan Tanka thought about me accepting being a girl. Parts of the change were okay, but the unknown parts were still extremely intimidating and frightening.

"You look like you're still pretty tense," Evvie noted as I put my toiletries up. "Why don't you go take a shower? I find that a nice warm ... shower ... really helps my troubles melt away."

Fate? It didn't seem to be coincidental that there were so many nudges toward doing something that I'd avoided like the plague. "Uh, no," I begged off. "I'm tired."

Evvie shook her head with a little smile. "Then why do I get the feeling that you're highly embarrassed? Unless ...." She goggled at me. "You _were_ thinking of taking a shower!"

"No, I wasn't!" I protested strongly.

"Yeah, right. If you weren't, then why are you blushing?"

"Please leave me alone." I suddenly felt like crying again, humiliated at being caught thinking of using the Hydroflux.

Evvie sensed my distress, and instead of continuing her teasing, she leaped up and hugged me. "I'm sorry. I just ... can't imagine what it's like for you. If you'd have been born a girl, you would have tried already. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Evvie, I'm scared," I confessed softly as she continued to hug me.

"Of what?"

"That ... that ... I don't know _what_ I am anymore. I'm afraid of trying."

Evvie pushed me down on my bed and sat beside me. "Have you and Debra ... you know?"

I shook my head. "No. Age difference. If we got caught, she could go to prison since I'm not sixteen yet." I thought a moment. "But once I turn sixteen, we could, since she's less than three years older than me ...."

"How about in your dreams?" I didn't have to answer; she read my blush. "Do you want to, when you turn sixteen?" I nodded hesitantly. "Okay, what if you think of it as learning what makes a girl feel really, really good, so you can surprise her when it's time?"

I pulled back a bit and stared at her. "But ...."

"But if you're not ready to try, then don't let me push you. Don't let _anyone_ push you. You'll do it when _you're_ ready, not when someone tells you that you should. Okay?"

I just nodded, not trusting myself to answer, because the subject was more embarrassing than I felt ready to deal with at that moment.

"Now, put on your robe and go take a nice warm _regular_ shower. Let the shower massage some of the tension out of your shoulders and neck. You've had a pretty tough day, so loosen up a bit before you go to bed. You'll sleep better."

I let her guide me up, into my robe, and back into the bathroom. The shower stalls were all empty, so I hung up my robe and turned the water on. I had to admit that Evvie was right; the massage shower-head felt good as the pulsating jets of warm water kneaded the knots and stress right out of my back and shoulders. And since it was evening, I didn't have to rush to take a shower, but could relax and enjoy the water massage.

**********

Evvie grinned at me when I wobbled into our room and collapsed on my bed, because my legs didn't seem to want to hold me up. "Good shower?" she asked with a hint of mischief in her voice.

I nodded weakly, my cheeks flushed. "Yeah."

"Did you enjoy ... _it_?" Evvie asked, grinning.

She knew. My pink cheeks turned scarlet, and I chose not to answer her.

"Next time," Evvie continued, smirking, "remember to turn on the sound cancellation system."

My eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, as my cheeks turned redder than boiled lobsters. "Uh," I stammered, "I ... uh ... didn't ...."

Evvie chuckled. "You were so pre-occupied - and enjoying it - that you probably didn't see or hear Fey go in the bathroom to turn the system on, did you?"

"Er, no," I admitted sheepishly. "I ... I didn't mean to!" I suddenly said, defensively. "I ... I just ... got curious. And what you said, er, about surprising Debra because I would know what to do ..." I turned my blushing face away from my roommate, feeling totally ashamed at what I'd done and the knowledge that others on the floor knew as well, because I'd made too much noise.

"Hey," Evvie said, moving to my bed and stroking my cheek gently. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's part of female sexuality."

"But ... it's not part of me! Or at least, it wasn't! It's not supposed to be like this," I said softly. I was way too relaxed to start crying again, even though I was so confused. Why had I done what I'd done? I was plenty relaxed from the warm massage on my shoulders and back. Why had I gone the extra mile and tried out the full features of the Hydroflux hardware?

Evvie smiled. "You've got a lot of adjusting to do. This is one part of the lessons of being a girl." The smile grew. "One of the more pleasant lessons."

**********

Debra pulled me so close it felt like she wanted us to share the same physical space. "That was ..." She exhaled softly, a purr of contentment and a sigh of pure pleasure escaping her perfect, kissable lips. "That was wonderful!" She kissed me passionately and furiously. "God!" she mouthed when she finished the kiss, "when did you learn to do that?"

I kissed her. "I ... picked up a trick or two."

"Or seven!" she giggled. She rolled over, snuggling into my lap and my chest, my boobs pressed against her back, as she purred more.

I pulled her close to me, letting my arm drape over her body so my hand could caress her wonderful breasts, while my lips attacked her neck and earlobes. "Something I picked up this evening in Poe."

I felt her body stiffen. "Did you ... you know?" she asked hesitantly, and in her words, tone, and body posture, she inadvertently told me that she was jealous.

I wondered for a second or two, and then I realized what she was asking. "No, it wasn't with someone else," I reassured her. "The girls' bathroom on the second floor of Poe has a couple of ... hardware upgrades that you'd have to experience to believe."

Debra settled back into my, her body relaxing again. "So it wasn't someone else?"

"There's no one else for me but you," I assured her, resuming kissing her neck. We cuddled for a while, until I heard her soft, rhythmic breathing as she slept. I was content to hold her close. As much as I'd done for her, she'd done for me. It was ... different this time. While we'd been intimate before - at least in the dream-world, it had never been like this. Instead, things seemed to have been derived from my memories, and the only sexual experiences I'd had were as a guy. Had my mind shaped my expectations based on that? It seemed likely, since now that I'd had several orgasms using the Hydroflux, relishing in the differences from the old, male me, that my dream-world experience with Debra was much more like what I'd done in the shower, and what I did to her was guided by my real-world experience with the Hydroflux.

I woke from my sleep-within-the-dream, startled by something. Sitting up gently, so as to not awaken Debra, I touched the earth spirit and the sky spirit. There was someone coming toward the camp, someone who made barely a ripple in the spirits, but still enough that I had been disturbed. I slipped gently from under the buffalo-skin blanket and pulled on my buckskin dress.

From the hill, a figure descended slowly toward the camp, walking almost regally, her steps in almost perfect harmony with the nature surrounding her. The gentle night-time breeze rustled her long hair, which I knew without having seen her was bright red in color. The woman saw me watching her, but she continued until she was at the edge of the camp.

"Greetings, Aunghadhail," I said to the Sidhe queen as she paused, waiting to be invited into the encampment.

"Greetings, Ptesanwi," she replied. "Or is it just you tonight, Kayda?"

The figure of Wakan Tanka sidled up beside me. "We are here, Queen." I felt her pull herself into me, until we were joined as Ptesanwi.

"May I enter your camp?"

"Why have you come?" we asked. She had violated many of our traditions and laws to join our dream-world without invitation. It was an incredibly rude display of power and arrogance.

"I was curious," she replied. "Your appearance here among the People is a surprise."

"And yours isn't, Queen whose race went extinct countless millennia ago?"

"We are not enemies," Aunghadhail said cautiously, repeating the words we'd spoken to her only days before.

"But you are more out of place than we are," we countered. We could see that she was becoming impatient standing outside the camp. "Come. Join me at the fire circle." With that invitation, she was allowed to penetrate the last ward of our dream-world, the last defensive line that prevented outside intrusion without invitation.

Together, we sat by the fire. As she watched, I brewed up an herbal tea, and then offered her a cup. Together, we silently drank the pleasant blend of flavors in a greeting and peace ritual, even though I was suspicious at her intrusion.

"You have never been invited to our dream-space. Why did you come, and how were you able to get into our private space?" We were confused; there were many layers of protection for a shaman, and more for Ptesanwi, to protect our private dream-space from those who might use it to harm us. Once we had invited someone in, they could return, unless we took action to block their further incursions, which was how Mr. Lodgeman had dream-walked with me in the hospital - he'd been invited in once before in Sioux Falls. I shuddered to think what would have happened to me if he hadn't been able to get in to my dream-world while I was in Doyle. I might still be there, trussed up and sedated.

"I was drawn to your dream-world as the girl Nikki slept. I ... sensed you in your dream world."

"Why have you come?" we repeated.

"The era of the white buffalo calf has not ended. It is not your time to return. Why have you come?" Aunghadhail sounded suspicious, and cautious.

"I could ask the same of you."

"As my soul drifted, I saw the coming of the black buffalo calf. I saw the coming of the yellow and red buffalo calves. Each age was at its completion when you came to your people before. Now, you come early, before the age is completed."

"Our people need us," we said simply. "Beyond that is not for us to know, and if we knew, it is not ours to discuss."

Aunghadhail glared at us for a moment, but then she sat back and glanced skyward. "It is peaceful and pristine here," she observed, changing the subject. "It is not like that in the real world. Nature is not in balance as it once was."

"Walk with us," we said, standing suddenly. Together, we walked up the hill, until we could see the land stretching out before us, the wide-open prairies stretching beyond the river which lay just beyond the village. "Nature must be balanced," we said simply, as if stating an obvious truth.

"Are you here to balance it? Do you think this is the time of Ptesanwi?"

"This is the time for Kayda, and we are here to help her."

"To help her do what?" the Sidhe queen demanded.

"To save the People from dangers, if necessary, in order to prepare for the eventual fulfillment of the prophecy. To bring peace and prosperity to the People when the time is right."

Aunghadhail wasn't satisfied. "It is not the time of the prophecy."

"You are not our time-keeper, Queen of the West, Daughter of the Burning Oak. We come when _we_ determine it is time. And just as you are curious as to why we are here now, we wonder why _you_ are here. Why have the Sidhe returned?"

"I will find out why you are here now. Do you not realize that, together, we can more easily restore balance?"

"Do you share the same view of balance in the world as the Handmaiden? Do you intend to ask her to help with your balance? Or just us?"

Aunghadhail started when she realized that we knew of the Handmaiden of the Tao. "She serves a force greater than the universe. She does not share the Sidhe view of the world. You know that. My view of the balance is good for both of us."

"Not if balance means restoring the Five Courts, and relegating the People to a servile role, as you once believed was the People's proper place." We looked at the sky. "It is late. You should return to your own dream world." The suggestion that she leave our dream space was hardly subtle.

Aunghadhail nodded, and then with regal airs, strode down the other side of the hill, away from our camp.

"And do not seek to come unbidden into our dream-world again, Sidhe," I called after her. "You, of all, should know the consequences of such an act."

The Sidhe queen paused, turning back to us. "We shall respect the privacy of your dream-world, Ptesanwi. We expect that you will do the same for us."

**********

JJ screeched to a halt in the school's parking lot, driving his mom's car. He scrambled out, running toward the school building, knowing he was late for the early morning team get-together in the locker room. And then he stopped. Scott was also pulling off the main street into the parking lot, and he was driving his family's old pickup, not his sports car.

The two fell in side-by-side, striding angrily into the school building, their annoyed glares frightening the wimpy kids from their path even more than usual. With an angry shove that banged the locker door hard against the inside wall, the two burly boys stormed into the locker room.

Several of the guys looked at the late arrivals, and from the expressions on their faces, they didn't seem surprised that Scott and JJ were late.

Coach handed out the day's schedule, including the times he expected the team to be in the gym working out instead of sitting in study hall. Each day, he emphasized something different and usually unexpected, knowing that keeping the boys fit and on their toes was a formula for a winning team. Coach was more than a little obsessive about that.

As he started to leave, he paused. "One more thing. The Mitchell chapter of H1 has agreed to perform screening for the mutant genes when we do our monthly drug tests next week, and once a year after that. They'll draw a little blood and take a cheek swab. You won't need additional permission slips, because your parents already gave us consent for routine substance screening and physical testing when you turned in your paperwork and physical forms."

"Too bad we didn't do that at the end of the summer," Scott snorted. "Might have kept 'it' off the football team!" Unspoken was the fact that if they had detected the meta-gene complex in Brandon, he might not have taken the starting position from Scott the past fall season.

"We'll get a screening annually now. The focus of the test will be on those sixteen and under, because they told us that late mutant manifestations are very, very rare. That's all, boys." He turned and walked into the coaches' cage, closing the door behind himself.

The boys began to file out, but a subtle gesture from Scott kept eight other boys back. Once everyone else was gone, he glanced around. "Anyone else having some weird shit happen?"

"Like what?" one of the guys asked.

"I had to drive in my mom's car today," JJ complained. "My car 's plug wires were all cut."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "And someone drained the oil from my car. If I catch the mother-fucker that did that, I'm going to cut his balls off. They might have ruined my engine!" He glanced around. "Anyone else?"

The boys went around, and each of them had something, from a cut radiator hose that had drained the engine coolant, to all tires flattened from the air being let out. At least, they hoped that the perp had only let the air out and not slashed the tires.

Scott angrily pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and held it up for the others to see. "Did anyone get one of these?"

The note read simply, "Confess or else."

A couple of the guys nodded slowly.

Scott glowered at the news. "My folks called Sheriff Larson this morning." He looked around, scowling, wondering if he should bring up the other event. Finally, he decided that he might as well, since the guys were all in this together. "Friday morning, I found a small bowl with calf nuts on my dresser, with a similar note. And an animal ... dick ... in my car. There were almost no signs of a break-in - not even tracks in the fucking snow! Did any of you guys have something similar happen?"

Jaws dropped at the news Scott had told, but the others all shook their heads 'no'. Scott seemed to have been singled out for the first event.

"Do you notice a pattern here?" JJ asked hesitantly.

"Of course there's a fucking pattern here," Scott growled. "We all know it." He saw nervous glances exchanged among the boys. "But we've got our story, and Doc is backing us one hundred percent. Plus dad called the MCO in Sioux Falls. We've got to stick together on this, guys. It's one pansy mutant's word against ours, and we ran the shit out of town. So nobody has anything to go on. We stick together, agreed?"

Several boys nodded, one or two nervously, as they all echoed, "Agreed."

**********

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Poe Cottage

I was drying from my shower, doing a little better to not be bothered by Ayla this morning, who was at the mirror brushing and flossing his teeth, but in an obviously slow way that gave him plenty of time to ogle us girls. At least it was obvious to me, because I'd been a guy, and if I'd have been in his position in that bathroom, I'd have been doing the exact same thing. The way the other girls acted - shaving themselves, talking while nude, and so on - I suspected that they'd become inured to Ayla's presence. My pulse raced, and my breathing was rapid and shallow - both indications of stress and anxiety, but so far, I'd been able to control my reactions.

As I wrapped my towel around my body, Nikki stormed into the bathroom, right toward me. "What did you do last night?" she practically screamed at me.

"What?" I was confused. Was she talking about my shower, in which case she obviously knew - as did most of the girls on the floor, apparently, given the looks I'd gotten so far that morning. According to Evvie, Nikki had been the one who'd turned on the noise cancellation system, after all.

"What did you do to me last night? Why were you intruding in my dreams?" Nikki demanded angrily. "Aunghadhail says she was with you in dreams last night, and I felt it! You have no right to rummage around in my head like that!"

The light-bulb went on. "Oh," I said as I gathered my thoughts. "First of all, Aunghadhail came into _my_ dream space, not the other way around." I answered sternly, fighting anger that she dared to accuse me of the serious infraction that _she_ and _Aunghadhail_ had done to me.

Nikki started at my statement, the fiery anger in her eyes winking out, and her jaw hung open for a moment or two. "But ... why would she ...?"

"Ask her, not me! I don't know why she intruded, but she very rudely entered my dream-world _uninvited_!" I was as upset as Wakan Tanka that the Sidhe queen had come so easily into what should have been a protected dream-world.

"What?" Nikki was stunned at what I told her. We were loud enough that other girls, and Ayla, were watching us, concerned at the heated exchange.

"You heard me. _She_ intruded on _my_ dream space, without being invited! She _demanded_ to know why my spirit had come, even though it's none of her damned business. Or yours!" I felt angered at Aunghadhail's presumptuous, arrogant attitude, and that anger was on display.

Nikki's expression changed almost instantly to remorse. "Oh," she said tersely. "I didn't know that she'd done that," she said softly, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Well, she did," I said firmly, still feeling testy. "It's very rude to enter someone's dream-world, and in doing so, she tore up my protective wards. She could have lowered the barriers and allowed Unhcegila, or some other evil spirit, to attack me, or Debra, because of her recklessness." I'd had enough, and turned away from her, expressing my anger in my expression, words, and posture. She hadn't even apologized, not even a cursory 'I'm sorry'.

After I dried and brushed my hair and brushed my teeth, I glanced around as I was leaving. Nikki was out of the shower, and she was looking at me strangely, as if she didn't know whether to be offended at what had gotten Aunghadhail's panties in a bunch, or to be apologetic for Aunghadhail having violated my dream-world. I expected at least some kind of apology. Nikki had no idea of the danger that Aunghadhail could have placed me or Debra in, and I resented the hell out of it.

Dressing was easy - all I had to do was put on a clean uniform. In many ways, that made life simpler than it had been when Mom, Debra, Wish List, and Vanity Girl had all fussed over outfits I'd picked out, finding fault with my choices for color combos, shirt styles with pants styles, and so on. Because I liked the look, I went with a French braid again, and with a bit of makeup, I was ready to get some breakfast.

While Vasiliy, Laurie, Adrian, Evvie, and Naomi were quite chatty, I was rather subdued. They noticed, and attempts to draw me into conversations were wasted effort. I had some sucky classes to deal with that morning, and I really, really wasn't looking forward to them. Besides, I felt like I was in a cell waiting for the old padre and the executioner to escort me on the 'long walk' to my doom, being in serious trouble for missing an appointment with Dr. Bellows. The axe could fall at any time, and the longer it went without word from administration or security, the more tense I got. I was glad when breakfast was over, because the atmosphere around our table had gotten rather oppressive, with everyone noticing my mood, and trying to avoid subjects which they knew, or suspected, were sensitive.

Rosalyn met me in the caf to escort me to my first class, and, after a quick glance to see if anyone was looking, she licked her lips seductively at me, and then made a kissing motion. As I tried to get my eyeballs back in their sockets and restart my stunned and embarrassed heart, she laughed at my shocked reaction. "Let's get you to class before I do something neither of us will regret, even though you'll claim to!" she whispered seductively.

I just shook my head at how blatant she was. Blatant and rather playful - _if_ she wasn't serious, which I wasn't sure of. "Still not interested," I said, forcing a smile.

"And you're so fun to tease," Rosalyn shot right back with a wicked grin.

"What's it going to take to get you to quit?" I pleaded.

"Agree to come to our hot tub party," she answered without pausing.

"Uh, I don't think so."

"I can keep this up until you crack! Ve haf vays of makink you bathe!" she added in a fake, bad, Hollywood German villain voice. Coming from her quite delicate and beautiful face in her sultry contralto, though, it lost its impact. Even that silly, supposedly-threatening phrase sounded sexy and seductive.

I just sighed and shook my head. "How come I'm your project girl for this term? Aren't there other girls you can pick on?"

Rosalyn laughed aloud at that, drawing attention to the two of us. "Yes, but none of them are quite as ... interesting ... as you." She gave me a sultry pouty look. "And you just can't resist my charms, can you?"

"Yes, I can," I replied, my voice shaking. Truth be told, after the previous evening, I was a little curious, even while my heart and mind reminded me repeatedly that I was Debra's girl. Fortunately, Rosalyn's teasing - or attempted seduction, whichever it was - ended when we got to the classroom building. "I can get upstairs from here, and I'm not alone, so you can get back to whatever it was you were doing."

Rosalyn hunched her shoulders forward, grinning gleefully, and rubbed her hands together. "Good! I can return to plotting how to get you to the hot tub party. Bwah, hah, hah, hah!"

I shook my head, laughing. "You don't have a good 'mad scientist' laugh. So how can you plot and scheme, if you can't even do a decent 'evil genius'?" I joined the throng streaming into the building, chuckling to myself. Rosalyn's teasing did shock me by her bluntness, but she made me laugh, at least for a moment, even if the not-so-subtle undertones of her joking made me nervous or uncomfortable. Then I remembered why I was in this building, in this class, and my mood darkened once more.

I walked into the classroom for Algebra I, already feeling very unhappy at the whole situation. The students filing in looked at me with a mixture of expressions, from lust (which I was beginning to recognize only too well), to amusement, to hostility - the latter mostly from girls who might have felt competitive in the looks department. Debra and the SFL ladies had warned me that girls could get very catty over appearances and envy, and I was certain I saw some of that on display.

Eventually, everyone was seated, or so it seemed, so I took a seat, which, as usual, was in the front center of the room. Shaking my head and sighing, I slid behind the desk, plopping my backpack on the floor beside me, and, having been warned by Debra, put my foot through an arm-strap so no smart-ass TK could move my books or backpack.

The instructor walked in and quickly scanned the room, focusing on the new item, which was a new student sitting in the front row. Me. The schedule said that she was Ms. Roberta Bell, and from what I'd looked up briefly the night before, she taught some of the heavyweight math classes, but nothing in the same league as what I was doing for independent study. Or rather, what I was _trying_ to do, if I ever found the time.

"Are you Kayda Franks?" she asked. Ms. Bell looked to be in her late forties, and she wore somewhat unattractive glasses, and those seemed to fit her overall look, because her brown hair was not well-styled, and her clothes seemed a little frumpy and unkempt on her slightly overweight body, like the dress and grooming habits of the stereotypical absent-minded professor.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, which drew a few snickers. Probably because some of these kids had never heard proper manners, and expected a mindless, 'yeah' or 'uh huh'.

"You're a little behind, and since math builds upon prior lessons, you will need to get caught up as quickly as you can." I started to object, but she didn't give me time. "Okay, today's lecture is in chapter 2, section 3 of your books if you want to highlight or follow along." She waited a moment while students opened their books, and then she turned to the board. She turned back to me, however, with a frown. "Miss Franks, are you going to follow along in your book?"

I shook my head. "No." It was the safest thing to say without being an ass or getting in trouble.

"At least you'll want to take notes," she admonished me.

I shook my head again. "Don't need to."

"That's a good attitude to ensure that you fail the course," Ms. Bell cautioned, sounding less than pleased with my attitude. "Very well. If you insist."

I sighed heavily. "I already _know_ algebra very, very well."

She looked at me very skeptically, her expression saying only too clearly that she didn't believe me, and then she turned to the board and began to lecture, pausing occasionally to ask questions to see if the students were getting it. I had taken out a notebook, and was busily writing down what I understood about Wakan Tanka's magic, in preparation for my Intro to Magic Arts class.

"Miss Franks?" Ms. Bell interrupted me, "do you understand the associative and commutative properties, and why they're important?"

I started at the interruption, and glanced up at the board. "Yes." I turned back to my note-taking.

"What I meant was, if it's not too much of an inconvenience for you, would you do so for the class' edification?" She sounded pissed this time.

"Oh. Sorry. The commutative properties of addition and multiplication essentially say that order is not important, ergo, that any ordering of coefficients and variables within a set of operations that are purely additive or purely multiplicative does not make a difference in the outcome, unlike multiplication with matrix operations in linear algebra, where order _is_ important. By using the commutative property in multiplication, it is possible to rearrange numeric coefficients and variables to find similar terms, thus allowing ...."

Ms. Bell cut me off, scowling. "That's a lot more detailed than we need at this point in the class." I could tell her curiosity had been stirred, but she was also quite angry with me for my earlier callous attitude. "I take it you've been exposed to algebra before?"

"You could say that," I answered, trying hard not to be rude or snarky. Unfortunately, my frustration with Fey and with being forced to repeat algebra had jaded me, and my tone wasn't exactly as neutral as it should have been. "In fourth grade. I've been doing college-level independent study math courses the past two and a half years, and getting college credit for them. I'm way past second semester differential equations and into graduate-level courses."

I heard a few kids smirking and scoffing at my comment, so I turned around and glared at one who was openly laughing. "Like _you_ know how to calculate second-order residual equations for a non-uniform finite difference multigrid in the solution of discretized integro-differential equations in three dimensions, such as would apply to an aerodynamics problem using the Navier-Stokes equations?" I snapped at him, daring him to challenge my mathematical knowledge. From the expression on his face, and those around him, he had no idea what I'd said, let alone how to contest my knowledge. Satisfied, with a hint of smugness to my scowl, I turned back to the front of the room, still looking disgusted.

Ms. Bell was looking at me with a completely different expression on her face, one that looked like amazement. "What are you doing in algebra?"

"My class advisor refuses to deal with reason," I snapped back, and saw her startled expression. "I mean, she didn't even look at my transcripts." The displeasure in my voice was unmistakable. It earned a glare from Ms. Bell.

"I need you to stay after class a moment to discuss your proper math placement."

"Sure, since I'm in no rush to go to the PE class they put me in." After Aunghadhail intruding rudely in my dream world, plus the snarky attitude from Nikki in the bathroom, I wasn't in a mood to put up with any crap.

Ms. Bell had had enough of my attitude. "See me after class." She turned back to her lecture notes and resumed instructing those less schooled in math than me, although every once in a while, she glanced my direction, frowning or otherwise expressing her distaste for my less-than-chipper attitude.

If I'd have paid attention, I'd have found the lecture boring as sin. As it was, I managed some reading for my magic arts class, and made quite a few notes on what I knew of my magic, how it worked, and what spells I could do. Before I knew it, the bell rang. Like the others, I put my books into my backpack, but unlike most, I went to the desk instead of toward the door. Ms. Bell had been quite insistent, and since she was already quite irritated with me, I didn't really want to further annoy her. Actually, that wasn't quite the truth. In all honesty, the only reason I cared even a tiny bit was that she sounded, at least for a brief moment, like she might recognize that I had no reason to stay in Algebra I.

One of the other students already had her attention, so I stood, tapping my foot impatiently on the floor, looking periodically at my watch. After five minutes had passed, I rolled my eyes, and sighing, walked out of the classroom. I didn't have time to waste, because I had to meet my escort.

Unfortunately, possibly because of the delay caused by Ms. Bell, no-one was waiting outside of the classroom. Crap. With a skyward eye-roll, as if to say, "why me?" I decided to deal with the issue myself. I couldn't stand here, where I'd be alone and unescorted once the other students were in their second-period classes, nor could I walk to my own second period class unescorted. It was a Catch-22 situation; I was going to be violating my escort rule one way or the other. Ah, screw it, I decided. If I was going to get in trouble, it wasn't going to be hanging out in the hallway outside of classrooms. I might as well at least get a few moments of outdoor air on my way to the gym.

I got into class without incident, mostly. Zenith spotted me entering the gym by myself, and she none-too-politely reminded me that I was breaking the rules, asked what would have happened if security had caught me alone, and tried to make me promise to _not_ do that again. Maybe it was because of my pissy mood, but I angrily shot right back - a little louder than I should have - that there wasn't an escort outside of my algebra classroom, and that I was going to get in trouble for being alone one way or the other. That got her to climb down a bit from her high holy tree, and she was forced to admit that I _had_ been left in a sticky situation. Still, I could have called someone. Sure - like I had everyone's cell phone numbers memorized. Despite acknowledging my point, she really wasn't happy with my unpleasant attitude, even though I knew she was trying to help me. If she ever called in all the favors I'd racked up in my first five days, I was going to owe her grandpa's car. And my paychecks for a couple of years. And my first-born. I started at that - where in the hell had that thought come from?

Everyone else in class was wearing martial arts clothes, which I'd been told nothing about, and there had been nothing on my class schedule indicating that I needed such clothes. If I'd have known, I could have picked them up at the bookstore the day before. To further confuse me, all of them were sitting in a funky way along the edge of the mat. Shit. I didn't know what to do.

Instead of trying to imitate what looked like a very uncomfortable position, I just stood against the wall, waiting for who-knows-what, while students kept glancing my way, murmuring and whispering among themselves - obviously about me.

I didn't have to wait long. Two instructors came out - a small, older Oriental man, and a tall, lithe African-American woman, both in martial arts outfits - and they almost instantly looked at me quite suspiciously.

The older man looked directly at me, with an inscrutable gaze that left me wondering about what he was thinking. "You are new?" he asked me pointedly.

"Yes," I answered simply.

"Come to the center of the mat," he ordered.

I didn't want to be the center of attention in a class _again_, but Ito had made that unavoidable. I slowly trudged to the mat, facing Ito and the tall woman.

"I was informed by the administration that you would be in class on Friday," Ito said. "It's good that you are able to join us today." There were titters and chuckles among the students at his attempted feeble joke, which pissed me off. "Why are you not in a gi? The class registration and schedule you received very specifically call out that a white gi is required for this class."

"I've ... had nonstop issues ever since I got here, and I haven't had a chance to get one."

"You had four days between your arrival on campus and today in which to get a gi." He didn't want to listen to any excuses.

My lower lip was trembling as I fought to control my growing sense of frustration and anger. 'Remember what Maka said. Remember what Maka said,' I repeated in my head, over and over, trying to focus on being respectful instead of losing my temper. "It's not my fault that someone else has caused me a litany of problems since I arrived - problems that wiped out three class days and my whole damned weekend." I tried not to scowl at him. "I don't want this class anyway. And FYI, my class schedule has _nothing_ on it about a gi, or whatever it's called. Would you care to see?"

"Your schedule is something you must take up with your advisor or the administration," the taller black woman said, her face impassive, but her tone of voice conveying that she wasn't happy at my excuse or lack of desire to be in the class. Behind me, I could hear more soft murmuring among the students.

Ito continued, ignoring what I'd said, "You will be seated in seiza before Sensei Tolman or I enter the gym, as all the other students are. Is that understood?"

I nodded. "Yes." I was fighting back my anger at their total lack of understanding or sympathy, and their stupid little games they were demanding that I to endure.

"You will address us as Ito Soke," he nodded his head, "and Sensei Tolman." She nodded also, just so I'd be clear as to which was which. "Is that clear?"

This was the same type of bullshit than the football coach made us endure in two-a-day practices months ago. "Yes." I saw his eyes narrow. "Yes, Ito Soke," I corrected myself.

Sensei Tolman decided to speak. "You _will_ have a gi for class tomorrow, understood?"

That broke the dam on my temper. "Precisely when, if you don't mind me asking, am I supposed to have time to go buy a gi?" I demanded, overwhelmed by frustration at my class schedule. "My advisor scheduled me for nine classes this term, and I don't _have_ any free time to go to the bookstore during its normal operating hours to buy a gi." My voice was rising in pitch and volume as my anger at the stupid situation grew. To hell with what Maka told me; I was being treated like I was a kindergartener, and I didn't like it one little bit.

"Since you are new, do you have any experience in martial arts?" Tolman asked, completely oblivious to what I'd just said.

I shook my head. "None. Zero, Zip, Zilch. Nada. I don't know a damned thing about it." Ito and Tolman glared at me for how I answered. "No, sensei," I corrected myself again.

"Very well. We will need to evaluate your abilities before you begin training." Ito said. "For today, sit at the edge of the mat, as the other students now sit, and observe." He effectively dismissed me. "Advanced students, to the right with me. Beginning students, to the left with Sensei Tolman."

I watched, my frustration simmering, as the rest of the students split into the two groups and left me completely out. It was like third grade all over again, bringing back the intense emotional pain I'd experienced all those years ago. I heard murmurs, and I _knew_, or at least was very certain that the other students, who'd been at this for weeks already, found my situation amusing and were getting a big laugh at my expense. I sure as hell didn't find it in the slightest bit funny; once more, I felt humiliated.

For almost twenty minutes I sat in that stupid, painful position they'd made me sit in, watching the other students interacting with the instructors, while I could have as well been invisible or not even present. The beginning group was working on katas of basic kicks and hits, interspersed with practice in falling in various ways. It was boring as hell. And annoying.

After twenty minutes, I was fuming like a volcano about to erupt. This was a complete and total waste of my time, and excluding me as they had was emotionally painful. Finally, I'd had enough, and I scrambled to my feet and stalked toward the door. "I don't need this shit!" I muttered angrily under my breath. A few of the nearer students must have heard, because there were gasps of shock that I'd dared to comport myself and speak as I had in front of the instructors.

Sensei Tolman noticed me. "Class isn't over. Where are you going?"

I didn't even try to control my temper. For a brief moment, I had a vision of Hoka, the badger, who is an extremely fierce fighter when pushed. "Leaving this worthless class," I snapped back at her, "because sitting in a corner isn't doing a _damned thing_ for me, and I have a _lot _ of other classes to catch up on."

"Sit down," she commanded me.

"This is a total fucking waste of my time. I don't want this class anyway. What's next? Making me fight someone experienced so I can get the crap kicked out of me and be humiliated?" I snarled back in response, loudly enough that some on the _other_ group across the gym heard me. I knew that I was going to get in serious trouble for both my attitude and language, and I didn’t really care. "I don't have a gi, because I started late, and I don't have time to get one, but you demand that I somehow do the impossible! I don't know shit about martial arts, so you push me aside. I've got better things to do than sitting around watching others learn while I'm totally excluded." I stomped toward the door.

"Get back to your position," Tolman commanded again, more sternly than the first time.

"No."

I heard a collective gasp of shock from Tolman's students. "What?"

"No. You act like it's my fault that I was late, instead of the adults who run this stupid fucking place and are screwing up my life," I snarled.

"You may be frustrated," Sensei Tolman said, "but that's no excuse for your poor attitude, and it's certainly no excuse for your language."

"IDFM!" I hissed at her, loudly enough that I think Ito heard. I turned and stomped out the door, fuming and determined to do whatever necessary to get out of that stupid class.

To my surprise, Sensei Tolman followed me out, lightly grasping my elbow just outside the gym doors as she repeated, "Get back to class." I yanked my elbow free, but she clasped my shoulder more firmly, and painfully. "Uh, Miss ...?" she said, and paused because she didn't know my name.

"I'm leaving your stupid course, so IDFM!" I snapped back at her.

"What's your name?" Sensei Tolman asked as she used her size and leverage to spin me around to face her.

"What do you care? What does anyone around this fucking place care? You would have known if you'd have asked at the start of class, but treating me like a person was apparently too much bother! Every teacher and administrator I've met has done nothing but try to screw me over! To make my life miserable, or to denigrate or demean me!" Beyond her, in the gym, I could see many students from her group staring at us, with confused looks of 'what the hell just happened here-" on their faces. I thought, for a moment, that Sensei Tolman had the same look, but then I convinced myself that I was just imagining it.

Tolman frowned deeply. "Watch your language, young lady," she warned. "Now, what's your name?"

"I have an appointment with my class advisor," I replied angrily, refusing to answer her question.

"What is your name?" Tolman repeated insistently, holding my shoulder so firmly that trying to squirm away hurt a lot.

"Why don't you check your class roster?" I snapped at her, which seemed to startle her, like she hadn't thought of it. I glared at her for several long seconds. "Kayda. Kayda Franks."

"Kayda, since we were informed that you would be in class on Friday, your absence led us to the conclusion that your schedule had been changed, and that you wouldn't be in our class."

"And _that's_ an excuse for humiliating me by treating me like a nobody?" I said, sulking and angry.

"We plan out our class several days in advance, so when you weren't in class Friday, it was assumed that you weren't enrolled. Your unexpected presence threw off the scheduled activities we had planned for today. I apologize if you were embarrassed or felt excluded. Neither Ito Soke nor I had any intention of either of those things."

"So you don't even have time in your precious fucking schedule to treat me as a human being by doing something simple like asking my name at the start of class?" I grumbled. "I've got to go find my advisor."

"No, you need to return to class," Sensei Tolman countered.

"So I can sit and waste even more of my time?" I practically screamed. I had no doubt but that students in the gym could hear me - not that I cared. "Or didn't you think that, because they enrolled me for _nine fucking classes_ that I could afford the time to sit and do nothing? And you want me to go back? Haven't you humiliated me enough for one day?"

"Your task for today is to observe and learn," Tolman offered. "Now, I apologized, so ...."

"You weren't the only one who embarrassed me," I snarled. "Ito Soke made some wisecracks at my expense and he was downright rude, and he obviously didn't have time to even ask what had happened. Back home, he would be courteous enough to apologize, too - not that it'll matter once I talk to my advisor. Now if you're through with your lecture, you can go ahead and get back to students that you _care_ about teaching! I'm going to do something useful, like get my schedule changed to get out of this bullshit class, and then, thanks to Security and Mrs. Carson, I have to have my daily meeting with Dr. Bellows. Thanks for nothing!" With that, I turned and stomped out of the gym, fuming at the painful and deliberate exclusion and the humiliation.

Behind me, I'm sure Sensei Tolman didn't waste any time wondering what had happened. She had a class to teach, so worrying about me, or how my schedule had been screwed up, or how she and Ito had embarrassed me, probably didn't rate a second's worth of thought. To them, I was just another student who they could use as punching bags, or demean, or exclude from participating in front of the others. Like I was going to stand for that!

Fortunately for me, security wasn't watching as I stormed back to Schuster Hall. Inside, I went directly to Mrs. Hawkins' office. One way or another, even if I had to go to Carson, I was going to get my absurd schedule straightened out. Administrative staff, teachers, and other students eased away from me as I walked past, reading my irate expression and correctly interpreting that I had zero patience left. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hawkins wasn't in her office, and according to the note on her door, wasn't planning to return until about mid-way through my third-period class.

I wondered whether to wait, and miss part of my magic arts class, or to go back to Poe until third period. On the one hand, magic arts had been the least awful class so far. On the other, that was before Nikki and Aunghadhail had violated my privacy and my dream-space. And Nikki hadn't even offered a simple apology, let alone a meaningful one, which told me that she didn't realize just how serious her intrusion was. How was I supposed to deal with a class TA who acted like that? My mood, which had started to recover from the humiliation in martial arts, sank fast again.

"Kayda," I heard a familiar voice calling from behind me.

I spun, and my heart skipped a beat when I confirmed that the voice belonged to Dr. Bellows, who was walking down the hall carrying his coffee cup. I was so screwed. "I'm sorry I missed my appointment yesterday, Dr. Bellows," I apologized quickly. "Everything got so messed up, and someone tried to trick me, and I got lost in the tunnels after my special class, and then I had to talk to security, and by the time all that was done, I'd completely forgotten, until we were at dinner, but by then you'd gone home."

"Why aren't you in class right now?" he asked. "Do you have a free period?"

I hung my head. "No. Not officially," I admitted. "But ... I ... I need to meet with Mrs. Hawkins to get some things straightened out on my schedule. And ... I'm sorry I missed yesterday's appointment. I ... got tricked coming ...."

"Louis gave me a briefing."

I looked up, and he seemed to be a little sympathetic. "In all the stuff that was happening, I forgot."

"We'll just consider Louis' checkup yesterday to be your daily appointment, okay?" He _did_ have a look of sympathy on his face. "Now, if you're free, why don't we have a little talk, and I can try to find out what's going on with your classes that has you so upset."

I felt bad as I explained my side of the situation, starting with English the day before. The class sucked, and then I had the incident with the illusion of Cascade. Then the nightmare, and I forgot about the appointment. I somehow neglected to mention my shower relaxation, but I did talk about the dream-walk being interrupted by Aunghadhail, and how Fey had been so pissy toward me in the morning, as if it had been my fault. Then Algebra I, and the missing escort because the teacher wanted to waste my time waiting to talk to her, which kept me in the classroom until it was too late, and finally the shit-storm in martial arts.

Dr. Bellows nodded, his teeth clenched on his unlit pipe. "That would explain why I got an e-mail from Miss Seever, and from Ms. Bell. Both of them reported that you had an extremely poor attitude."

"Do you blame me? I've got stuck with repeating math and English classes that I don't need, kept out of a class everyone thinks I _do_ need, and they loaded me up with nine classes this term! It's like someone is trying to make my life so miserable that I leave, or put on conditions so impossible that I can't meet them and then I'll get kicked out!"

"And why did Amanda Tolman just call me?"

Without thinking, I snorted in disgust at his mention of her. "Yeah, right!"

" Why don't you think she'd call me about you?"

"Because neither she nor Ito gave a shit about me in class!" I retorted, falling into that peculiar emotional state between anger and despair. "They were too busy humiliating me, and making me feel totally left out, so the others were ...." I stopped suddenly, not willing to accuse the other students of laughing at me, at least not to Dr. Bellows - even though I knew that they had been.

"Kayda," Dr. Bellows said calmly, "people with PTSD, who are coping with very traumatic events from their past, often feel a bit paranoid. It's a normal fear-based reaction."

"Yeah? So what you're saying is that I'm being paranoid, is that it?"

"I wouldn't use _that_ word," Dr. Bellows countered calmly, to try to still my intense emotions. "I'm saying you're probably over-reacting to coincidental events ...."

"They didn't even bother to ask my name!" I snapped back, fighting tears, successfully for the moment. "And I got chewed out for not having a gi, when nothing on my class schedule said I needed one. And then they pushed me to sit on the side like I didn't belong."

Dr. Bellows frowned as he scribbled some notes. "That's not what Sensei Tolman told me. Are you sure your feelings aren't skewing facts a little bit?"

"Last night, I looked on-line at typical classes for freshmen and sophomores, broken out by power class. And then I ran the numbers in my head. This is so improbable as to rule out a bizarre set of coincidences."

Dr. Bellows frowned. "What you're trying to say is ...."

"Someone's trying to fuck with me," I retorted angrily. "I don't know who, but these things can't be dismissed with a wave of the hands. At least not by someone who understands probability and statistics."

"Okay, I think I'll need to look into something. First, though, let's talk about you, and about how you're doing."

I shook my head slowly. "I don't know," I said with a heavy sigh. "Last night, when I was caught alone, I was so afraid of being expelled, but then I was wishing that I'd never come here. I'm ... I'm confused."

Dr. Bellows actually laughed. "It's progress for you to be afraid of being expelled. It means that you're finding things here that are meaningful to you."

"Yeah? Like what? Repeating classes I've already had? Being humiliated in martial arts class that I don't even want?"

"It doesn't sound to me like you're trying very hard."

"It's not worth it. Algebra is so ... beneath my knowledge level! I was working on college-level classes - for credit! And Mrs. Hawkins wouldn't even listen to me. I'm a sophomore, but Mrs. Hawkins and the teachers are treating me like I'm a freshman." I closed my eyes, my teeth clenched, nostrils flared, and breathing heavily out of frustration, but I slowly began to push that down, to calm myself. It wasn't Dr. Bellows' fault, I reminded myself. "Mr. Lodgeman said I definitely need Intro to Avatars because I have two spirits, and Ms. Grimes agrees, because my spirits are integral to my magic. But Mrs. Hawkins wouldn't listen. I'm guessing she didn't even _look_ at my transcript." Another deep, calming breath; I was getting too wired again.

"And martial arts? With your history, I would have thought that you'd be eager to learn to defend yourself."

"Why? The mutant-haters outnumber us by at least fifty-to-one. You know how I did when it was only six high-school kids the first time. What's the point?" I shook my head. "To the rest of the world, I'm just another worthless mutant who lost everything and got the crap kicked out of me to boot."

"Wihakayda, you are _not_ worthless!"

"But Wakan Tanka," I protested, "it feels like I'm completely unimportant. No-one is paying attention to what _I_ need. They're treating me like I _am_ worthless."

Wakan Tanka poured me a cup of tea, but I pushed it away. "You are here like everyone else, placed by the Great Spirit for a reason, even though the reason might not be obvious to you. Nothing the Great Spirit does is worthless. _You_ are not worthless."

"No? So why is all this crap going on?"

"When a boy comes of age, is he simply called a warrior, and given a place of importance in the tribe?"

I puzzled for a moment at the change of direction in the conversation. "No," I answered, recalling Grandmother Little-Doe's stories. "He has to earn his place as a warrior, to prove he is worthy."

"And are the trials easy?"

I saw where she was going with this, and I didn't like it, but I had to answer, if for nothing other than courtesy. "No. They are difficult."

"Are your challenges any less difficult? Are they, perhaps, more difficult because of the role you have, which is greater than that of any warrior or chief?"

I sighed, knowing that she was speaking the truth, even though I didn't want to hear it. Slowly, I reached out and took the tea from her.

"You will be tested, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka told me as she put her arm around my shoulder. "Know this - if you were not capable of passing the tests, Tatanka and Ptesanwi would not have come to you. We are here to help you with your challenges."

"Kayda?" I felt a touch on my shoulder. "Kayda, are you okay?"

I focused my eyes from the nothingness they'd been staring at while I'd been in dream-space. Dr. Bellows was leaning over, touching my shoulder, shaking lightly to see if I was responsive. Obviously, I'd zoned out again while I was being chewed out by Wakan Tanka. Okay, she hadn't chewed me out, but had 'advised' me in the rather _insistent_ way that Mom and Dad used to.

"Sorry," I said to him quickly. "My ... spirit advisor decided to have a little ... talk with me."

"Oh, so you have your own built-in counselor?" Dr. Bellows asked with raised eyebrows. "I suppose that makes me redundant, then," he added with a chuckle. "I want to see you again this afternoon, after your electronics class." He saw me start. "Don't worry about what happened yesterday. I'll arrange with Mrs. Horton to meet you, and we can talk as we walk back from the lab. That should take a little pressure off of your hectic schedule. If you need to talk more after the rest of your classes, that is."

"Okay," I said tentatively, not knowing what else to say.

"Next, I'm going to have a talk with Charlie Lodgeman when he gets back from Pennsylvania ...."

"What's he doing there?" I asked.

"I'm not exactly sure, but it's some Native American spirit thing." Dr. Bellows replied. "As I was saying, when he gets back, I'll talk to him to see if he'll take over as your academic counselor. Occasionally, we encounter a few ... glitches ... in schedules, and ..."

"You call some of this stuff just 'glitches'?" I asked, dumbfounded by how he could use such an innocuous term to describe the crap that I'd been going through.

"It's being polite, and not attributing to conspiracy that which can be explained by ... other things."

"Like stupidity? Or malice?" I asked bluntly.

"I wasn't going to say it," Dr. Bellows chuckled. "Let's talk about how you're adjusting."

Panic gripped my throat. "To ... being a girl?" I asked, terrified that he'd find out what I'd done the previous evening.

"That, or how you're adjusting to being a mutant, or how you're adjusting to life at Whateley - besides the teachers and classes you dislike so." He wasn't very specific, but I couldn't help thinking that I'd given him a clue about things that I really wanted to keep secret.

"And we'll leave you enough time that you can run by the bookstore to purchase a gi for martial arts."

I frowned, pursing my lips tightly together. "No," I answered sternly. "I don't need one, because as soon as my classes get straightened out, I won't need it."

"Kayda," Dr. Bellows said in a gently reproving way, "you've been in several fights, both in the real world and in the astral world. You have no skill in fighting, and it showed in those battles. Frankly, you got your butt kicked but were lucky enough to survive. You _need_ to learn how to defend yourself. After what you've been through, I would think that you'd _want_ to take martial arts, if only as a confidence booster."

With that as an opening, we talked more about my adjustment to Whateley, and to my classes. Dr. Bellows wanted me to take some anti-depressants, because he was certain that I was depressed, but with my powers, it wouldn't do any good. That's when I made the mistake of mentioning the healing tea that Wakan Tanka taught me how to make, and how it seemed to calm me. For telling him that, I got direction to review the tea with Ms. Grimes in my next class, and if she thought it okay, then I was to have at least three cups of the tea each day, with each meal, to try to keep my anxiety level down. He ended the meeting a bit early, so that, with an escort from the administration offices, I could go to the bookstore to purchase a gi.

**********

Kirby Hall

I was so not looking forward to Magical Arts, primarily because Nikki was the TA, and I was still very pissed about what Aunghadhail had done the night before. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. She had _no right_ to intrude on my dream-world and to threaten the safety of me and Debra. And after the confrontation in the shower, when I'd told Nikki what had happened, she seemed to act like it was no big deal.

When I walked in, I felt the tension build in my shoulders. Remembering the arrangement of students from the day before, I found a seat that had been unoccupied but which was not near Tansy or Mugwump. Given that Ayla was part of Team Kimba with Nikki, I avoided him as well, and I tried to avoid his friends, which left only one or two desks in the room. I took the one closer to the back of the room.

Ms. Grimes walked in, with Nikki right behind her, and Nikki began to glance around. Her scan stopped on me, and I saw her eyes narrow a bit, and then a bit more when my expression turned to a grimace of displeasure, or possibly even a sneer.

Class started with Nikki handing back the quizzes from the day before, the ones that had been instigated by Ms. Grimes after titters of laughter and derision when I didn't know any of the types of magic. From a few nasty glances directed my way, some of the students were less than happy with their scores, and probably blamed me for them getting the quiz in the first place. Great - another reason for students to dislike me. Nikki eyed me warily as she handed me my quiz; I knew that she was an empath, and could probably sense my anger, which only grew when she didn't seem to recognize that I had every right to be upset.

We were partway through the lecture when I was unfortunate enough to draw the attention of Ms. Grimes. The topic was the fields and spheres of magic, which from the descriptions, sounded like they were the same thing. Ms. Grimes, however, insisted they were not. By ill fortune, she chose to remember my comment about my healing spells while she was talking about the enchantment sphere of magic.

"Kayda, could you demonstrate one of your healing ... potions, so we can see what it is and how it works, as an exercise for the class to judge what sphere and field it is?" Ms. Grimes asked.

I'd been trying to hide to avoid being called upon, but now I had no choice. "Um," I stammered, "I'm not very good at it," I protested weakly. "Someone else would probably be better for a demonstration." I glanced, and saw Nikki staring at me, which made me uneasy. Was I on her 'enemies' list? Did she no longer trust me and Wakan Tanka? I had no idea, except that a powerful mage was apparently unhappy with me.

"Nonsense," Ms. Grimes retorted. "Mr. Lodgeman told me about your healing tea, and I feel that it would be a perfect demonstration."

"Um," I was stalling and groping for excuses to not have to perform, "I don't have a suitable container with me. If the container is metal, the spell will get all wonky." I hoped I'd saved myself from a public display.

"Nikki," Ms. Grimes said, "get one of the wooden bowls for Ms. Franks. How large?"

"Uh, a cup or two should do." Drat. My scheme was foiled. I should have figured it was a long-shot. "I need it about half-full of cold water."

Nikki nodded, and while she went to a supply shelf to get a bowl, I reluctantly stood and trudged to the front desk and took my medicine bag off my belt.

"Please explain as you proceed with the spell," Ms. Grimes directed as she hovered behind me, watching over my shoulder. Since water was a very common component of many spells, the room had a sink, so Nikki had the cup of water on the desk beside me by the time I laid out all the herbs I'd need.

"It'd be better if someone had a mild ailment, like a headache, or upset stomach, or a minor cut or scrape. But I can do the spell without that." I paused, feeling like I was performing, and I didn't like the feeling.

"Wakan Tanka, I need you to check my incantation." I recited what I thought the spell was.

"Very good, Wihakayda. But you didn't need to check with me. You've done that often enough. Why did you come to the dream world?" she asked.

"I'm ... I'm nervous. I don't like doing this, and I feel like I was put on the spot."

"And yet, you had no trouble with a far more difficult spell in front of your mom, Mr. Lodgeman, the doctor, and three other members when you were helping Debra."

"That was different," I protested.

"No, Wihakayda, it was no different. Now, though, you have time to think of what you are doing, but with Debra, you were too concerned about her to worry about the others."

"But ... I don't want to do this in front of ... _her_! I ... I have to hide my magic. Wicitaglegla, right?"

"I understand your nervousness, Wihakayda. But you must do as your instructor says. She is your teacher. Go ahead, Wihakayda. You can do this."

Ms. Grimes was looking strangely at me when I snapped back to the real world. "Is ... everything okay?" she asked.

I nodded. "I was consulting ... my spirit," I lied, "to make sure I remembered the incantation properly." I put the bowl on the desktop, and then I began to incant, my voice trembling from nervousness, as I crushed and added the various herbs at the appropriate times. I could feel the magic coursing through me, through the herbs, and into the cup, and when I finished the incantation, there was a small flash from the cup, which was now steaming lightly. I took a deep breath, and glanced up nervously at Ms. Grimes.

"Very good, Kayda," she said, nodding, before turning to the class, which had gathered around the desk. "Can anyone name the sphere that this magic falls under? Tansy?"

"It was invocation," the pretty but unpleasant blonde answered with conviction.

"Class? Is Tansy correct?"

"Uh, yeah." "I guess so." "Yeah."

One voice said firmly, "No. It's enchantment." Everyone - except Tansy - turned to look at Alya, who had a semi-smug expression on his face.

Ms. Grimes smiled. "Correct, Ayla. It's an enchantment of the herbal mixture. What field is this spell?"

"Uh, healing?" Irene said uncertainly.

"Correct, Irene. Kayda's spell enchanted the brew, most probably with some nature-based magic thrown in through the herbs, into a healing potion, or tea." She lifted the cup and sniffed it lightly, then drew in a deep breath. "And it's got a wonderful aroma, with a bit of a natural mint scent." She dipped her finger into the bowl and placed it on her tongue. "It's quite a good tea, too." She saw Ayla reaching to do the same. "No, Ayla, you may not use your refined palate to identify the ingredients," she said, slapping at his hand, which caused a chuckle through most of the room - except Mugwump and Tansy, as expected.

"May I?" Ms. Grimes asked, lifting the cup. When I nodded slightly, she took a sip of the tea. "Mmm," she purred. "And I can feel its magic infusing into me. It's quite ... relaxing and calming." She smiled. "You _must_ teach me how to make that tea. Okay, class, the demonstration is over."

Slowly, the students went back to their seats, and after I cleaned up my medicine pouch, I did as well, taking the cup of brew back to my desk with me, while Nikki continued to stare at me. I felt a slight shudder of discomfort; had I somehow made an enemy of her when Aunghadhail had intruded in my dream walk? Was she as suspicious of me as Aunghadhail was? Or was she angry at me because I'd dared to call her out on what Aunghadhail had done?

After class, Ayla was waiting for Nikki in the classroom, so I stepped outside the building into the fresh air. I was very nervous about Nikki and Ayla after their icy attitudes in class, but I still needed one of them to 'escort' me back to Poe or to lunch. When they hadn't come out after four or five minutes, I started glancing around. First, I put up my protective shield spell, just in case someone else wanted to hurl a slush-ball at me. Then I scanned the crowd. I saw Irene looking at me steadily, like a fox studies a hare before attacking it.

"Hi, Irene," I offered, smiling. "How did you like class today?"

"I prefer Palantir." She looked at me strangely. "Where do you get your essence?" she asked bluntly.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I think my spirit gathers it for me, because I'm not aware that I'm doing anything to collect it. Are you going to the cafeteria?"

"Maybe," she replied. "Why?"

I shrugged, and tried to put on a smile. "I ... just don't like to walk alone, and since we're in the same class ...."

Irene had a knowing look in her eyes. "Is it because you don't want to get in trouble?"

"Maybe," I replied, trying to grin, but knowing that even this junior-high girl knew of my troubles with security and my restrictions. Damn, but my reputation had spread fast, and it wasn't a good one. "Or maybe I just want to talk about class and magic and stuff."

"I'll walk with you," she said, a wicked grin spreading on her face, "if you give me some essence."

"What?"

"I need to get some essence to light my own," she said. "So I'll walk with you if you give me some."

I was getting a feeling that giving this little girl some essence would be equivalent to giving a four-year-old a hammer - nothing good could come of it. "I don't know how to gather it, let alone to give you any. It just ... happens."

About that time, Ayla and Nikki emerged from the building, and they looked around until they spotted me. Nikki still had the decidedly-neutral expression on her face, and it was making me very nervous.

"Okay, Irene, I'll tell you what. Walk with me, and I'll teach you how to make my healing potion," I offered quickly.

Irene followed my glance, and even she figured out that there was something going on. "And one more spell?" she negotiated. "Like the thing you have around you now?"

I felt like I was being had by this junior high con artist. "Okay," I replied quickly when I saw Nikki and Ayla coming toward me. "But it might not work for you until you gather your own essence."

"Maybe your tea will give me some! Let's go," she said eagerly, and with me at her side, half-skipped, half-walked toward Schuster so we could eat.

As we walked, I tried to explain to her how my magic worked, and she seemed a little frustrated that I'd had to learn about the herbs and plants before I could start to learn even the simplest spells. I got the impression that she was looking for a 'quick fix' to get magic ability and power, and unfortunately for her, I didn't have that to give her. That may have been a blessing for the rest of the campus, though.

I was already in line to check out by the time Ayla and Nikki came into the caf, and they looked at me, suspiciously I figured.. I don't think they expected me to find someone to 'escort' me from Kirby to the Crystal Hall, and I suspected - strongly - that they wanted to talk to me about something. Given the previous evening, the morning confrontation, and probably the rumors about me in martial arts, I doubted there would be much good to say if we _did_ talk. I'd heard that Ayla was some heavy-hitter in Aikido, and he'd probably lecture me in some condescending way about why I should be there, and how to do things. I didn't need that kind of crap. Instead, I headed to where Evvie and the group usually sat. They watched me, exchanging words as they did so, which made me worry that they intended to come to talk to me, but then they ascended to their 'royal thrones', as if they were so much better.

I was starting to believe that Nikki and Ayla were snobs of the same order as some of the other 'exclusive' groups, only it had taken longer for them to show their true colors. Aunghadhail thought she was entitled to invade my privacy, to the point of violating every social norm I'd grown up with or had learned from Wakan Tanka - and Nikki didn't even acknowledge that it had been a highly personal invasion of my privacy, let alone really apologize. And Ayla? Ayla was apparently nothing more than a typical rich snob who'd settled in with his own private groupies. I figured that Ayla was the mover behind the whole Team Kimba thing, assembling a group of high-powered freshmen to give him clout, just like uber-rich like the Goodkinds always did.

By the time Evvie, Naomi, and Laurie showed up, I was fuming and nearly ready to explode with anger. The tea in my magic arts class hadn't helped much, which puzzled me greatly. It was supposed to be infused with magic, but it didn't seem to have been. I _needed_ something to calm me down before I exploded with anger.

I sat by the fire circle, even though it was daylight. "Wakan Tanka," I asked, "why didn't the magic in the healing spell help calm me?"

Wakan Tanka smiled. "It should be clear to you if you would only think. How does the magic get into the brew? If you know that, then you have your answer."

"Um," I stammered. "When I do the incantation, um, it ...." I wrinkled my brow. "I ... I don't know," I confessed.

"Wihakayda, are you not paying attention?" Wakan Tanka chastised me.

"Yes," I replied, but I didn't sound certain.

"Do you mix the herbs and plants and then chant the magic?"

"Uh, no," I answered slowly. Suddenly, it became clear. "When I chant over the ingredients, am I binding magic to each of them?"

Wakan Tanka smiled at me, placing her hand on my shoulder gently. "Yes, Wihakayda, you almost have it. Each of the ingredients has some natural magic in it. You add to that magic when you incant over that ingredient, and that releases its potential into the potion. After all of the ingredients are in, the potion is a mix of natural magics and your own, and the final incantation binds them together."

"So ... the magic at the end is how the beverage gains its power?" I thought a moment. "If the magic is bound at once, at the end of the incantation, then ... the magic would be released in the same way?"

Wakan Tanka looked like a proud parent. "Very good, Wihakayda. Since the magic releases in the same way it was bound, it flows instantly into the first person who partakes of the draught. After that, there is little or no magic left."

"I need to mix up some tea," I grumbled to Evvie. "I made some in magic class, but I didn't get the magic from it."

Evvie and Naomi shook their heads. "I don't get how that magic works," Evvie muttered.

"And it's weird watching you zone out like that," Naomi added.

"Sorry," I apologized, trying hard to not let my frustration spill out to my friends. Wow! That was a weird thought - friends. I suddenly realized that while I'd been moping around, I'd made some friends here. I sighed and shook my head, smiling at the irony of the situation.

"What?" Evvie asked. Laurie, too, who was sitting down with her tray, was had a puzzled look on her face.

"I just realized that while I've been busy being frustrated with the teachers, administrators, advisors, and bullies, I was so busy feeling sorry for myself that I didn't even realize that I was making new friends," I answered slowly. I looked around the group. "If we are friends, I mean." There were still doubts, after all I'd been through, that something good could really be happening to me.

"Of course we're friends," Evvie said, putting her hand atop mine from across the table. Naomi, too grasped my hand, and Laurie leaned to one side and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"Unless you do something really bad," Naomi added with a straight face, which made me gasp in surprise. "In which case," she continued after a dramatic pause, "we'll be friends who keep reminding you how you screwed up!" She couldn't keep from giggling at her last line.

Adrian and Vasiliy chose that moment to arrive, and they gave each other a wary glance when they saw us having a 'girls' moment. The slight burning I felt on my face confirmed to me, as if I'd had any doubt, that I was slowly adjusting to being, and thinking like, a girl. Memories of seeing Julie having 'girl moments' with her friends and the way it made me feel awkward and unsure of what to do, just like Adrian and Vasiliy were at that moment, confirmed the subtle changes that had occurred in me.

I made another batch of herbal tea, and when she saw me mixing it, Laurie asked what it was for. I explained its healing and calming properties - the tranquility effect was really a form of mental healing - and of course she asked if she could try a cup. Which led to Evvie and Naomi wanting to try some as well. Which inevitably led to a small group of girls who'd overheard the conversation congregating around us wondering what in the heck I was doing. Great job disguising my talent, I told myself.

I made and enchanted four cups of the beverage, and then told others that no, I wasn't going to be making tea for everybody, and could we please eat in peace. Politely, I hoped. At least that was what I'd tried. Some of the students, especially the girls, milled about despite my plea, whining and begging me to make just one more cup so they could try, especially after they saw the rather blissful looks on Evvie's, Naomi's and Laurie's faces. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but then the small cluster parted like the Red Sea.

In the middle of the crevasse of girls was Mindbird, in her lilac-colored armored bodysuit, her helmet tucked under her arm in a NASCAR driver pose, and she was looking impassively at me. Like a gunfighter in an old spaghetti western, she deliberately stepped into the mini-aisle formed by the now-curious girls, striding slowly and deliberately toward me, stopping about three feet from me. The only things missing were spurs and a gun belt low around her hips. "Kayda," she greeted me simply.

"Dale," I replied, working to keep my voice calm even though I was nervous because I had no idea why Mindbird had come to talk to me. Was I in trouble for something else now, too?

"Interesting little group," she said in an amused voice, looking around at the eclectic group, mostly lower-powered, non-A-list girls and a few guys, who'd moments before been begging me for my enchanted tea. "Problems?"

I shook my head. "I was just having some tea, and they all got a little interested."

"Is there something special that I should know about?" she asked suspiciously.

I chuckled at her suspicion that I might be giving out something illicit. "It's herbal tea with a little Lakota enchantment, so it has healing and calming power. Would you like to try some?"

Mindbird looked at me like I'd just offered her some crack. "Uh, I don't think so," she said warily.

"Just smell it," Evvie suggested, holding up her ceramic cup. "It smells heavenly."

I almost laughed as I watched Dale take a tentative sniff, and then after her eyes popped wide open, take another, longer sniff. "Wow! That smells really good." Evvie and Naomi grinned with an 'I told you so' look.

"I get the feeling that this isn't a social call," I commented, "so what's up?"

Dale glanced around, scowling, and the small gaggle scattered from around our table. Once she was satisfied that casual listeners wouldn't overhear, she turned back toward me. "I figured I'd walk with you to your next class and we could talk."

"Is that because you have something to talk about, or because you're trying to deter something you've heard might happen?" I asked bluntly.

"There's chatter that someone is planning to mess with you," Dale admitted.

"TNT?" Evvie asked the obvious. She looked worried for my safety, which was touching, asking about those who'd already caused me problems.

Dale shook her head. "Probably not. They're being closely watched, and not just because of you. They've bullied a lot of kids, and security is tired of their antics. They actually got split up in cottages, and if they get caught doing anything as a group, their punishment is really increased. I doubt it's them."

"Then who?" Laurie asked the obvious question.

"Security doesn't know." She looked directly at me. "Do you want an escort to classes?"

"Just great," I sighed. "So you're worried about protecting me, but you don't know from what? That sounds like your presence will make me _so_ much safer."

Dale stared at me for a few moments, and then, shaking her head, she walked off, leaving all of us puzzled as to what her warning meant.

**********

I used English period to work on catch-up for Power Theory, which annoyed Ms. Seever to no small end. Good. I didn't like her much, because she treated me like I was a freshman who'd never taken an English class before, whereas I'd had Mrs. Zimmer in my old school, and she was a very tough teacher. She was an old-school grammar fanatic, and she loved making us read and critically review older, classic literature, like "The Scarlet Letter" and "Last of the Mohicans." Compared to Mrs. Zimmer, Ms. Seever was a pussy-cat, except that she disliked me.

Power Theory was the usual tiresome exercise in staying awake, if one tried to follow the lecture, but since I'd abandon listening to his monotonous, droning voice in favor of reading the material, which I could read much faster than Dr. Quintain could talk, I got four more days' worth of lecture digested, to the point that it was the class in which I was closest to being caught up. Of course, that wasn't counting Algebra I and English I.

Power Lab was frustrating as well, because we were discussing powers that weren't applicable to me, and from a look at the course syllabus, it wasn't _going_ to cover anything about avatars. I needed the avatar course. And my lab partner was being quite stuck-up toward me. I got quite bored, which made Charge even more upset because I wasn't helping her. I spent most of that period wishing that my classes were a little more pertinent, engaging, and exciting.

That turned out to be the wrong wish to make, because it was filled by someone from the practical joke department. Not that my classes got more exciting. Far from it. Time crawled almost as fast as molasses would flow back home. Uphill. In early February. In other words, time dilation occurred, and seconds became like hours. No, the excitement came as Delta Spike was to meet with me to escort me to the electronics lab. Since spring was springing after a cold winter, everyone had cabin fever and wanted to be outside. Like them, I was waiting outside, sitting on a bench next to a walkway, and soaking up my share of the sun's warm rays.

I started to stand as soon as I saw my escort approaching, turning to walk to meet her so we could go back inside and down into the tunnels. It was that slight fortuitous turn of my body that saved me.

The whoosh of a speedster zipping by barely registered before I was slammed forward, spinning, by something extremely hard smacking into my left shoulder, between the shoulder blade and my spine. I didn't have time to cry out, only to pitch forward and whack my head on the hard bricks of the walkway milliseconds before everything went black.

**********

Doyle Medical Complex

Damn, I had a headache. My eyelids pried open slowly, and the light caused my head to pound as the stimulus flooded through my optic nerves into my brain, making me wince in pain. That motion, in turn, hurt my left shoulder, making me nearly black out again as a redness of intense agony danced into my vision, blotting out the dim view of the room I was in. As the repeated stabbing into my shoulder slowly faded back to painful throbbing, I slowly pried my eyes open a tiny slit. The bright lights of the room caused my head to pound again, but I was ready for it, and I let the drumbeat ease before trying to make sense of my surroundings.

I was lying on my right side so there was no direct pressure on my left shoulder, on a bed in a mostly-white room. It was obvious that I was in Doyle again, and I groaned. What had happened? I remembered standing, and hearing the distinct sound of a speedster, but nobody had gone tearing past me. And something had hit me - hard. It didn't make sense to me

"Good, you're awake," Dr. Tenent's familiar voice sang out to me.

"What ... happened?" I mumbled softly.

"I was hoping you could tell me," Dr. Tenent replied. "You were hit in your upper back by a large piece of ice, between the left scapula and your upper spine, causing several fractures."

"Not again," I groaned. "I don't remember anything. Not much."

Dr. Tenent moved to my feet, and began to touch them. "Can you feel this?" She proceeded to check my feet, ankles, and lower legs, and then she had me move my toes, feet, and legs. "The good news is that it looks like you have no nerve damage. I've healed your bones, but you'll have to take it easy for a bit, and you're going to have a whopper of a headache from your concussion."

"I ... kind of remember hitting my head on the walkway."

Dr. Tenent nodded. "The scans don't show any fractures or internal hemorrhaging, so once your headache goes away, you'll be as good as new."

"What happened this time, Kayda?" I recognized the chief's voice, but since I was looking at Dr. Tenent, he could have been there all along, or might have just come in, and when I instinctively twisted toward the sound, I nearly passed out with pain again.

"I wish I knew," I said as soon as my body quit punishing me for moving.

"What can you tell me?"

"Don't you guys have it on camera?" I asked sarcastically. "You seem to film everything else that happens to me."

I could almost feel the disgusted look and head-shake on Delarose's part. "I wish. There's nothing on the security footage, and nobody saw anyone. And what's worse, you were hit with a large ice-ball, so the evidence has all melted."

"Crap." I fought the natural impulse to shake my head in disgust, because I knew such a move would be greeted with pain. "I thought I heard something like a speedster running," I reported, "but I didn't see anyone moving around me. And then I got hit with whatever it was, I fell, and I got knocked out." A sudden though occurred to me. "And I'm missing the one class of the day I was looking forward to!"

The chief moved to where I could see him, pulling out a small box and flipping a switch. A green LED illuminated atop the device. "Doc, tell her please."

I saw Caduceus wince. "If you hadn't been standing and turning, the impact would have hit the base of your skull, or your cervical spine. It would have killed you or left you paralyzed below the neck."

I goggled at that revelation, and I saw Chief Delarose nod grimly. "Kayda, Foob, Mrs. Carson, and I are worried that someone, or something, doesn't want you here. Do you know of anyone who'd want to harm you?"

"No," I said after thinking a moment. "Except for the assholes in my home who tried to kill me."

"They can't get here. Anyone else? Or any _thing_ else?"

I nodded without having to think. "There's the snake-demon spirit that attacked me in the dream-world."

The chief shook his head. "Fubar checked into that. That was an astral-world attack, and he doesn't see how it could be tied to what happened on campus with the wards around campus to keep that sort of thing out."

"And the Mishibijiw that attacked me - in the real world."

Again, the chief shook his head. "Mrs. Carson had the mystical arts department check. Nothing has gotten through the wards." He took a very deep breath and slowly exhaled. 'I'll be honest, Kayda. This has us concerned, and rather confused. A couple of the incidents with you were psychically induced. Cagliostro and TNT had been influenced by someone to do what they did to you. It may be that this one was, too. The difference is that the first incidents seemed to be harassing, like someone was trying to get you to leave Whateley. We can't tell, because of the lack of evidence, whether someone miscalculated with the ice-ball or had ill intent. And those two attacks you suffered while en-route to Whateley were clearly intended to be fatal."

I gulped, taking in his news. "Okay, so what are you going to do?" I asked after a few awkward moments.

"For one thing, you're still officially on watch," Delarose replied quickly. "Fubar and Dr. Bellows think you don't need full-time suicide watch, but keeping you there gives us an excuse to monitor and try to protect you."

"I can't say that I like it, but it makes sense." I glanced, with pain, at Caduceus. "Can you do something to heal this so I can go to what's left of my electronics class?" Delarose groaned in disbelief, while Caduceus just rolled her eyes at my request.

**********

Caduceus may have been the greatest healer on campus, but I still hurt like hell, and I was moving slowly, accompanied by the two security officers who led me to the electronics classroom. I felt a little conspicuous as I walked in. All the other students - all male - turned to stare at me, and I felt butterflies in my stomach. It was as if I was an alien from another planet instead of a girl who shared a class. They eyed me distrustfully, as if I would succeed by convincing them to help out with a couple of wiggles and bats of the eyelashes, but at the same time, I could tell that they were attracted to me. Nerds didn't date pretty girls. Nerds didn't even get to associate with pretty girls. And like it or not, that's what I was, so I had to deal with a room full of potentially worshipful nerds.

I carefully made my way to the teacher's desk and explained what had happened and why I was late, and then went to my desk and began to work on a lab project. Before too long, I felt like someone was watching me; one of the guys had wandered to my lab station and was watching me with interest. I looked up, scowling, only to have my expression soften when I recognized Delwin from the bookstore. "Hi," I said simply.

I thought he was going to have a heart attack. A pretty girl initiates a conversation with a bona fide nerd? Not something that happens every day. "Uh, hi. Kayda, right?"

I knew that he remembered my name. Guys always remembered girls' names - and their approximate dimensions. I winced inwardly at that thought. "Yeah. And you're Delwin." Gak - from the look on his face, he'd never had a girl remember his name, and he looked about ready to pass out from nerves. "From the bookstore."

"Yeah," he replied, his voice quavering. "That's my work-study job." He hemmed and hawed for a bit. "Um, do you, um, you know, need any help, um, on your lab?" he managed to stammer. I didn't have to look to tell that he was blushing furiously and shaking with fear of being rejected.

"Thanks, but I've got this one handled. It's really pretty simple." I saw him visibly deflate. "But I may need some help on other ones, because I still have a lot of catching up to do."

"Oh. Okay."

I lowered my voice so others wouldn't overhear. "Just to let you know, I'm not going on any dates, and I'm not looking for any kind of relationship. Period and stop. But I _do_ like having friends. Deal?"

Relief flooded Delwin's face because I'd been careful to let him know clearly where he stood, without hurting his feelings or embarrassing him aloud in front of his fellow students. "Deal." I thought he'd faint when I shook his hand.

I glanced around surreptitiously as he walked back to his work area. All the other male students were looking at him like he'd just walked on water or won a billion-dollar lottery, all because he hadn't been publicly embarrassed by a pretty girl. I smiled, but I also shuddered on the inside. I'd just handled that the way I'd always respected girls for handling those types of situations - by being nice and letting him know politely that I wasn't interested in a relationship or dating, but I wasn't going to treat him like human garbage, either. I had no idea how much of a girl I was becoming, but the thought worried me.

After class, I had to wait around for an escort, which, again, seemed to be late. Or someone had forgotten. I sighed heavily; I so didn't need more problems or complications.

"Um, is everything okay?" Delwin had just finished putting away components from his lab project.

The sigh told him everything without my having to speak, but I did anyway. "No. My ... escort ... isn't here."

"If you need, I can walk with you back to your cottage." He saw my reaction, and quickly added, "Just as friends. Just as a favor, with no expectation of anything in return. I promise I won't mention dates or anything like that."

I looked at him. Damn, but he seemed so innocent and friendly. "Okay, if you promise that this is just two classmates."

"Sure. We can talk about class or stuff."

I turned to the instructor. "If someone shows up looking for me, can you let them know that I'm on my way back to Poe?"

We set off down the tunnels, and true to his word, Delwin didn't talk about anything but being a gadgeteer, and how cool electronics class was, and what he was learning in the mechanical classes. Like most gadgeteers, he was a definite underdog, having only PK hovering as an additional power.

Everything was fine, until, when we were getting out of the elevator, we both tried to go through the doorway at the same time, and I got squeezed against him. I felt a surge of panic - a guy was pushing on me, and ....

The door that I thought I'd locked flung open, and rough hands grabbed at me, yanking me violently from behind the steering wheel. I felt a blow in my ribs as a fist struck me, and another one hit my cheek.

"Hey, it's true! Brandon turned into a mutie-chick! Whoa, baby - them're some nice hooters!" The guy, his voice full of the same lust I'd always heard in the locker-room discussions of sex, yanked my jacket open, and his rough hands pawed at my breasts.

Another fist slammed into my back, sending pain shooting from my kidneys up my spine, while I screamed, fighting the hands holding me while others groped my body, yanking at my pants and tearing at my shirt, even as a blow on my side broke a rib with an audible crack.

"Let's have some fun with her before we get rid of her," one of the guys laughed as he thrust his hand into my crotch.

"No!" I screamed. "Don't touch me!" I tried to push away the hands groping me, but I was held firm, and the guys laughed at my screams. "No!"

**********

Slowly, I realized that someone was talking to me. "It's okay, Kayda," the voice said. I looked fearfully toward the sound, and saw a blonde girl beside me, her voice calm and soothing and her face compassionate. "You're okay, Kayda. You're safe." It took a moment for the flash of panic to subside and for me to recognize reality, and for me to feel her arm around me, holding me tightly, reassuringly, talking soothingly like a mother to a frightened child.

I looked at her, at the calmness and sympathy in her eyes. "What ... happened?" I asked hesitantly. I glanced around, and realized that I was wedged into a corner of the elevator, with Mindbird crouched beside me. Two security officers stood watching us, one inside the elevator and one visible through the open door towering over Delwin menacingly.

"Do you remember anything?" Dale asked me softly.

I felt wetness on my cheeks, and I wiped at them. "Uh, no. I was getting out of the elevator, and Delwin was too, and ... and ... we kind of squeezed together, and ... and then I don't remember."

Dale nodded knowingly. "May I?" she asked, and I instantly knew what she was talking about. I nodded, and I felt her presence in my mind for a moment, and then it was thrust out. She scowled at me. "Can you turn off your buffalo, please?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, embarrassed. Tears were still seeping down my cheeks from whatever had happened, and as I wiped at them, I slipped into dream-space and told Tatanka to let Dale in. "Okay," I told her when I was ready. "And he's a bison, not a buffalo," I added with a smile just to mess with Dale a bit.

Dale was practiced with her telepathy, obviously, because her presence didn't feel intrusive. After a few moments, I felt her slip back out of my mind. "Delwin's story corresponds to Kayda's memories. He didn't do anything improper, but when they accidentally bumped together in the elevator door, it triggered Kayda's PTSD. He _did_ call security, and then watched her to make sure she was safe until we arrived."

I managed to look at Delwin, at the confused look on his face. "I'm ... I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't mean ...." I looked down at my still-trembling hands. "I'm a mess."

"You'll be okay," Delwin replied to me. I looked up, and saw a sad smile on his face. I was stunned - after what had just happened, with me freaking out in the elevator, he still smiled at me. I tried to smile back.

"Let's take you up to see Dr. Bellows," Dale suggested. She helped me to my feet, and then glanced at the security guys. "I think we can handle this."

"We have to file a report," one of the security goons protested.

"And I'm a security auxiliary, and I'll file a report after I get Kayda to Dr. Bellows office, or to her cottage," Dale scolded them gently. She put her arm around my shoulder, supporting me in a reassuring way, and guided me down the tunnel toward Schuster, toward Dr. Bellows' office and some professional help. As often as I was there, I figured I should just find an unused office and move a cot there.

**********

Poe Cottage

I was still trembling inside when I got back to Poe; Mrs. Horton had assigned a couple of girls from the third floor to come to Dr. Bellows' office to get me. As we walked into Poe's main entrance, Nikki and Toni were leaving the cottage, and there was another uncomfortable moment. I tried to force a smile toward the two, or at least Toni. "Hi, Toni," I said in a trembling voice. I tried to say the same to Nikki, but the words stuck in my throat when I saw the uneasy look she was giving me.

"Hey, Kayda," Toni replied in a friendly voice, even though her gaze was darting back and forth between me and Nikki. "Rough day?"

"Uh, yeah," I answered, shaking a bit at the memory of the flashback. "I guess. How did you know?"

Toni smiled wryly. "Girl, your ki lines are totally messed up.

"Uh, yeah," I muttered. "Whatever that means."

Toni laughed, but Nikki continued to eye me warily. I wondered if she was upset about the dream-walking that Aunghadhail had done, or if the Sidhe queen had told her something about me that had her on edge. The tension between us was palpable, and I had no idea why, when only a couple of days earlier, it seemed that Wakan Tanka and Aunghadhail were at peace. If the two were in conflict, then living in the same cottage as Nikki was going to be difficult.

At the foot of the stairs, JJ came dashing up, an apologetic look on her face. "Ohmygod,Kayda,I'msosorryIforgotwhattimeitwasandIforgotthatIhadtogetyouandwhenIgottoyourclassroom,youweregoneandtheteacherwasgoneandIwasworriedthatsomethingbadhadhappenedtoyoulikeyesterdaysoIwenttosecuritybuttheyhadn'theardanythingandsotheylookedatalltheircamerasandsawyouwalkingwiththatboypassingMelvillesoIknewyouwereokay,butI'msorry,I'msorry.Iwon'teverletyoudownagain.Canyouforgiveme?Ididn'tmeantoleaveyoualone." She managed to cram a week's worth of feeling distraught into a few seconds. Being blonde fit JJ to a T.

I put my hand on her arm. "I'm okay, JJ," I said, smiling so she'd know I wasn't angry at her. "Everything worked out, so there wasn't any harm done, okay? Don't worry about it."

"OkayKaydaI'msosorryandIwon'tletithappenagain.You'rebeingsoniceafterIletyoudownandIpromiseIwon'tforgetagain." This coming from the girl who routinely forgot her towel in the morning showers, and who, in a logical argument, would forget what she'd said only seconds before and contradict herself. She dashed up the stairs before I could get another word in - not that I had any more to say. Or that she would have had patience to listen to.

French class was a pain, because of the different grammatical rules from English and Lakota. I'd heard that knowing one foreign language made it easier to master another one by exercising the linguistic centers of the brain, but this wasn't proving true. If anything, the nature of the Lakota language made French grammatical rules seem even more difficult, even though my improved memory made the vocabulary memorization incredibly easy. It was frustrating in class to know the words, and to give an oral answer with a strange mixture of Lakota, English, and French word ordering. A lot of others found it quite amusing, and my displeasure of their laughter caused some rather colorful phrases - in Lakota, of course, since no-one could understand exactly what choice words I was spewing in my frustration. The teacher must have suspected something, because she kept frowning at me when I _did_ slip into Lakota. She suggested - strongly - that I find someone who was fluent in French to practice with - assuming of course, that I ever had any time with my insane class load.

Dinner went well - at least as well as could be expected given that dozens of girls, and several of the Dylans, had heard of my tea through the ancient miracle of the gossip network, and consequently, they all wanted to try my elixir. It got to the point that Mindbird and Stormwolf had to intervene and tell everyone that I would NOT be making tea for anyone else during meals, and that, if necessary, they'd get that edict from the administration.

Mindbird was also concerned that my tea had something in it that was akin to drugs, and that's why people felt so relaxed and refreshed after drinking it. I tried to explain that Mrs. Grimes had tested it and found it perfectly acceptable, but between her and Stormwolf, they insisted - strongly - that I not make any more tea until the magic arts and medical people had okayed it. I didn't like that, so I calmly insisted that they were impinging on my ritual tea which part of traditional Lakota spirit medicine, and thus it was thus restricting my religious practices.

That argument put Stormwolf in a quandary , because he was torn between two sets of conflicting rules. On the one hand, my freedom to practice Lakota religion, and thus partake of the ritual healing tea, could not be infringed upon unless that practice involved a prohibited substance, like peyote. Absent such proof, my tea was permissible. But he, and anyone else in security or the administration, had the right to ask for testing of the substances to ensure there was nothing banned in the tea, and the prudent thing to do was to have my tea tested.

On the flip side, as a Native American himself, Stormwolf knew that the practice of _his_ native religion was something special and not to be intruded or infringed upon, and I was accorded the same consideration. It was almost fun watching him squirm with his moral and ethical dilemma.

Mindbird, though, knew immediately what I was doing, because I'm sure I was broadcasting my thoughts and emotions loud and clear. She frowned, and gave a small headshake 'no' to let me know that she _did_ know that I was just playing mind-games with Stormwolf, that she didn't approve, and that I should behave myself. I relented and agreed to give a sample of my tea to the medical complex to ensure there was nothing contraband in the mixture of plants and herbs, and to get a written statement from Ms. Grimes that the magic in the tea was harmless, and then I could serve tea to others in the caf. In exchange, they wouldn't infringe on my drinking the tea, unless medical reported some forbidden substance in the ingredients.

After that little bit of excitement, I was much quieter during dinner - being nearly killed by a high-velocity block of ice tends to do that to a person, and then the two Wild Pack members took away the happiness of being at the center of at least a little attention. The others in my group, however, were their usual boisterous, energetic selves. I felt quite subdued, and didn't really participate in the conversation, except for the perfunctory 'yeah', 'uh huh', or 'nah'.

I shouldn't have been surprised that they noticed, but I was, because I was so lost in reflecting on a really lousy day. It had actually seemed about four or five days long because there had been so much go wrong. At that rate, it'd feel like a thousand years to survive to graduation!

"Wihakayda, what are you thinking?" Wakan Tanka asked as she handed me a cup of the herbal tea I was becoming accustomed to sharing with her whenever I visited the dream-world.

I took a sip and felt the warmth and peace permeate my body and soul. "Mmm," I purred. "This is just what I needed."

"Is it?" Wakan Tanka asked with a sly grin. "Or do you need something else?"

I frowned, taking another sip. "I don't understand."

As I pondered Wakan Tanka's words, Tatanka ambled into the camp and stood beside me, surprising me since he'd usually lie down beside me. "I suppose you have some lesson for me?"

Tatanka nodded. "Come." He turned and walked to the edge of the village, waiting for me to follow him.

I glanced at Wakan Tanka, who merely nodded to me, so I stood and followed the white buffalo. As we exited the camp, the prairie landscape vanished, and we were in a high mountain meadow, resplendent in it summer finery. "What's your lecture for the day?"

Tatanka glanced at me, smiling smugly. "Not mine, but the lesson of Hehaka, the elk spirit."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. Great – I was about to be lectured on my behavior by another freakin' animal. "Why do you keep dragging me to meet these spirits?" I demanded, walking quickly to keep up with the shaggy white bison. "I thought you and Wakan Tanka said you wouldn't drag me here against my will."

"And we haven't," Tatanka replied immediately. "You come to us because you need an answer, or some advice - even if you don't realize that you do."

"What?" I was astounded at that revelation. "I come here to get a lecture - of my own free will?"

"You have some unspoken, unrecognized question, so you come to us for answers," Tatanka replied. We followed a stream around a bend, and there, standing majestically in profile, his head turned alertly to us, was the largest, most magnificent elk I'd ever seen. "Greetings, Hehaka," Tatanka called.

The elk nodded his head, almost bowing to Tatanka. "Greetings, White Tatanka." He stared carefully at me. "Is this the one you spoke of?"

"Yes," Tatanka answered. "She has listened and observed many lessons, but she is stubborn, past the perseverance of Hoka to the point of foolishness. She knows the lesson of Pispiza, but she acts as if she's alone. She has observed the pack behavior of Sugmanitu Hota, but thinks that she can be strong without her pack."

I glowered at the white traitor. "I'm not like that," I replied tersely.

"No?" Hehaka asked, staring directly at me as he walked almost regally to face me. "Why, then, do you sit with your community, but refuse to interact with them?"

"I ...." I couldn't answer. He was right.

"You and I are alike in a way," Hehaka said with a sad smile. "I, too, need solitude occasionally, but I feel a strong need always to be with my kind, to have companionship."

"But ...." Once again, I was confused by how much he seemed to know. "How is it that you think you know me?"

Hehaka smiled. "I could say that I have seen, but that would be a lie. I have heard from Ceda, who has clear sight and sees what you call the 'big picture'. He has watched you and noted your behavior, as Tatanka directed him, and has told me."

I turned to Tatanka, frowning angrily. "So you have the animal spirits spying on me now?"

Tatanka merely shrugged. "There are parts of your spirit that I don't understand, Wihakayda," he said simply. "So I use what I can to watch, and to learn, and to see what animal spirits you follow so I can better help when you have a question."

I opened my mouth to reply, to rebuke him for spying on me, but I couldn't. He _was_ part of me now, like Ptesanwi was, and he was doing what I had agreed, which was to allow them to be help me.

"In another way, too, we are alike, Wihakayda," Hehaka said to me. "You are, in some ways, passionate. It is good to have passion, but you must control that passion so it doesn't rule you, but serves you."

I thought a few moments. "Let's say that you're correct, that I _do_ feel a need for companionship and community. How do I do that?"

Hehaka smiled. "When I am done being solitary and need companionship, I do not wait for the herd to come to me. I must go to the herd. In the same way, you must seek your own kind for companionship and friendship rather than waiting in solitude for them to seek you. They are many, and you are one."

"So what you're saying is that I can't expect them to always come to me? The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one." I hoped I was accurate with my quote. It _had_ been a while since I'd seen that movie.

Hehaka nodded. "You understand, at least in your mind. Now you need to move the lesson to your heart, Wihakayda, so it's a natural part of you. Do not be afraid of your need for solitude and quiet, but seek the community when you feel the need to be with them."

I drifted back to the real world, where I realized that I was holding my cup of herbal brew halfway to my lips, and was frozen, with the others staring at me.

"Gone to visit the skunk spirit again?" Naomi asked with a knowing grin when I blinked and set my cup down.

"No," I chuckled. "I was visiting a different spirit. Hehaka, the elk spirit."

Laurie shook her head. "It sounds like you have a menagerie in your head. A whole zoo-full of teachers."

I started at her comment, but then I smiled. "Yeah, I guess I do. Now if only I'd listen to them instead of being stubborn," I added with a laugh.

The rest of the dinner conversation centered on the various animal spirits I'd met, with a game of trying to identify what student was most like a particular animal spirit. Dinner was a lot more pleasant than I'd expected; after the day I'd had, I really had felt rather mopey and down, but my friends put a smile on my face. Sure I still disliked - intently - Ito Soke and Sensei Tolman, algebra, and English sucked, and sure, someone had tried to kill me with an ice projectile, but the evening was ending on an upbeat note.

Evvie and Naomi left a bit early to go to the library, so Laurie and Adrian walked with me back to Poe, even though it was in the wrong direction from their own cottages. I understood why - they'd have some time for a peaceful walk together after dropping me off. I envied them; I would have really liked to walk together with Debra, arm in arm. For now, I'd have to be satisfied spending time with her in dream-walks.

As we walked, I started feeling nervous, and recalling what Mindbird had said at lunch, I quickly and silently cast my shield spell around the three of us. Maybe I was being a bit paranoid, but someone _had_ been paying way too much attention to me, and not in a good way.

About halfway between Melville and Poe, a large glob of slush splattered on my shield, startling the three of us as the sloppy, wet snow slid off my shield to the ground. Another attack? I sighed; Mindbird and the Wild Pack had been correct in their threat assessment; someone was trying to prank me.

"Should we call security?" Laurie asked nervously.

I shrugged. "No need. They're probably on their way here already."

I wasn't off by far. Mindbird walked toward us very deliberately, and a moment later, Stormwolf joined her, holding another student by the arm, quite probably the slush-ball thrower.

"Let's go to security," Mindbird directed.

I shook my head in disbelief. "For a slush-ball, which my shield stopped?"

"It could have been an ice projectile, like earlier today," Stormwolf countered. "This has to be reported, because there's a pattern of harassing you with dangerous attacks."

"Can we just drop it?" I pleaded. "It's not worth any fuss."

"Since you weren't hit," Mindbird said, "you don't have to go to Kane to file a report, but Chief Delarose would really like it." She looked at the perp. "And we don't have a choice with him," she added. "Standing orders; anyone pranking you has to be checked."

"I'd rather just drop it," I said, discounting her peculiar choice of words.

"Are you sure you don't want to file anything on this?"

I sighed. "And have the whole school know that I can't take a failed slush-ball attack without crying to security? Like _that_ would help me socially!"

The rest of the trip to Poe was anti-climactic, with no further incidents, but I felt like a third wheel. I could tell that Adrian and Laurie really wanted to hold hands, or hold each other closer as they walked, but were embarrassed to do so in my presence. And the looks they were exchanging reminded me of the way Julie and I used to glance at each other, suggestive of an urgent need to perform a durability check on her lipstick. I bid them a hasty 'good night' at Poe, so they could more closely study each other as they walked back toward their respective cottages. Actually, I expected that Adrian would walk Laurie back to one of the little sitting areas in the main quad for some extended, um, conversation, before finishing walking her to Whitman, and then, since it was a green-flag day, he'd fly over to Emerson to arrive just before curfew. The little side-trip to Poe - and the security delay - had cost them a few minutes of making-out time, but neither objected, even in their body language to me. That really was touching; I had friends. Real friends. I was choked up when I watched them walk away, Laurie pausing to wave at me, because it hit me quite dramatically that I was developing a sense of my own community, my own circle of friends, just as Tatanka, Pispiza, and Hehaka had been telling me.

Evvie wasn't in our room - I suspected she was either in the library, or in Naomi's room - so I had peace and quiet to study my French. It was difficult to keep the grammatical rules straight between my native English, Lakota, and the new French. More than a few Lakota curses sounded loudly as I struggled to keep the genders straight. More than anything, it was the differences in noun cases, matching the adjective endings, and the order of the words. I dreaded getting to verbs. I remember thinking that the rules in English were bad, but variations based on whether the noun was first, second, or third person, and if it was singular or plural were tricky. It wasn't difficult to memorize the rules; after all, I had an exemplar memory. But it took practice to string things together properly, and my practice sucked. It was just like math - knowing the theory and the rules didn't help unless one practiced applying them.

"Shit!" I cried in frustration - in Lakota - after my latest attempt, in over half an hour of trying to successfully complete the exercises in the book, was as full of errors as my first ones had been. "Why do I have to do this crap now?" My evening was rapidly vanishing, and I was making little progress in catching up with French. If I hadn't had French, I could have been catching up in my other classes.

A disturbance in the hall caught my attention, although at my frustration level, the noise of a butterfly flitting by would have distracted me from the torture that was French. Figuring that taking a break for a couple of minutes would help recharge my brain, I followed the noise down the hall into the common room. I'd been informed that one area of the room was known as Kimba Korner, since the Kimbas hung out there frequently to study. They'd even hung some hammocks and rearranged the furniture so the group had a cozy study space. Originally, it had been a multi-purpose common area with a TV, but now, everyone used the third-floor common area for TV viewing, and the second floor for studying.

Hank was sitting with his girlfriend Wallflower, Jade sprawled in a hammock, while Jinn floated with their roommate Billy Wilson, or Tennyo. Rip, Bunny, and Verdant from our floor were also there, as were a few girls from the third floor. The subject, not surprisingly, wasn't homework.

"It was huge!" Diamante, one of the third-floor girls exclaimed. "I didn't think she could manifest anything that big!"

"Yeah," another third-floor girl agreed. "It almost trampled me. Even my PK shove didn't seem to faze it. It had to be one of Beltane's practical jokes."

"Well, she's gone too far this time!" Verdant declared. "I think we need to report this to Mrs. Horton. That thing was running around like it _wanted_ to trample us!"

I winced; I'd seen a couple of Beltane's pranks, and had heard of many more. She was practically a legend. "What did she do this time?" I asked, trying to sound innocent.

Diamante scowled. "It was that huge white buffalo she had running around the halls, trying to trample everyone yesterday. Haven't you heard about it?"

I positively cringed. "Um, no," I replied cautiously. "I haven't heard anything about Beltane and a buffalo."

Jinn stared directly at me, and I felt like she was seeing my emotions. "What is it, Kayda?" she asked after a moment.

"Uh, what is what?"

"Why are you feeling guilty and embarrassed?" Jinn pressed. All of the girls were staring at me intently.

"Um," I stammered, cringing more. "That wasn't Beltane's manifestation," I said softly.

Diamante frowned. "How do you know?"

I was caught. I sighed; better to get it out now instead of trying to hide the truth which would eventually come out. "Um, because it's _my_ manifestation," I admitted.

"Yours?"

I nodded. "One of my spirits is Tatanka, the white buffalo, and, well, I can manifest him." I saw their looks. "But yesterday, somehow he manifested while I was napping and had a nightmare," I added quickly. "I didn't mean for him to chase anyone around."

"You ... manifest a white buffalo ... when you have nightmares?" Verdant asked carefully. "So, when you have bad dreams, that ... thing is going to chase us all over the place?"

"Thunderstorms and PMS all over again," Hank groaned.

"Can I see?" Jade asked excitedly, hopping down from the hammock. "Please?" She was looking at me with Big Sad Puppy Dog Eyes, a gaze that should be outlawed by the Geneva Convention because it was so devastating as to be irresistible.

The other girls were looking at me fearfully, afraid that I _would_ manifest the white buffalo, which would then chase them around some more.

I thought for a few moments, and then nodded to Jade. A moment later, Tatanka appeared, St. Bernard sized. "This is my buffalo spirit, Tatanka," I introduced him cautiously.

"But ... yesterday, the thing was ginormous!" Bunny declared. "Not like this!"

Jade dashed up and sat on a chair next to Tatanka. "He's so .... kyooot!" she bubbled enthusiastically. "Can I pet him?"

There must have been something about Jade, because Tatanka nuzzled up to her like an overgrown puppy dog, letting her scratch under his chin and behind his ears.

"Isn't he adorable, Bunny? We _have_ to get Kayda on Wondercute! With Lindsay's dragon, and Rythax, he'd be _perfect!"

Bunny scurried over to Tatanka, her eyes beaming at the idea of whatever Wondercute was. But that same idea produced expressions of horror on Hank's and Billie's faces, and looks of utter disbelief from the other girls.

I wasn't sure I liked the sound of something called Wondercute. "Um, I'm ... not really into ... cute," I stammered, hoping to put off the two suddenly-gushing admirers of Tatanka who seemed to want to draft me into something that, judging by the expressions of the others in the room, was disconcerting to the rest of the Poesies. When I declined, the look I saw flit across Billie's face was one of profound relief, which made me wonder exactly what sort of trap I'd just dodged. What kind of monstrosity was Wondercute if it induced that much apprehension?

**********

Black Hills, SD

One man was allowed within two-hundred yards of a very heavily-modified C-130 Hercules transport plane, parked at the end of the Clyde-Ice airfield near Spearfish, South Dakota. The entire airstrip was closed, with military aircraft flying interference to keep all traffic clear, and the perimeter of the small public airfield was guarded by a special unit from the nearby Ellsworth Air Force Base. What was not known to the airmen providing security was that the aircraft was remotely piloted; there were no aircrew aboard. Further, the aircraft was heavily laden with a special explosive device for termination of the flight, or of the aircraft and surrounding area if need be. The officers from Ellsworth had protested the use of their men for a mission so classified that their orders were to simply, 'Cooperate and do whatever you're told.' Such orders didn't usually sit well with O-6 and above officers, but since the orders came directly from the SecDef himself, they saluted like good soldiers, even when the orders said to outfit the security unit for full nuclear conditions.

One curious part of the 'cooperation' was to facilitate two snipers' nests which had good visibility to the runway; each of the two positions was occupied by non-military snipers with .50 caliber Barrett rifles, and each sniper had his rifle trained on the one man approaching the plane. Behind each sniper, a second person in each two-man team crouched, but not in the usual support position. Instead, each had a pistol trained on the sniper's head, and around their necks, the two had electronic devices to initiate detonation of the aircraft's ultra-low yield nuclear device. If it came to it, the airport, the security teams, and some of the surrounding area were sacrificial to protect against what the aircraft carried.

The man approaching the aircraft paused and made some strange, mystical motions, and then resumed approaching the plane. He paused, and the plane's cargo ramp was lowered by remote control from wherever operated the plane. After a deep breath, steeling himself, the man walked into the plane.

Several tense minutes later, a small wheeled transporter trundled down the ramp onto the tarmac, followed by the man with a remote-control unit. Atop the remote-controlled vehicle were two boxy objects. One was coffin-sized and shaped, with mystical writing on the outside of the crate-like box, while the other was significantly larger, and also covered in runes. Also atop the transport was a man lying on his side. He was trussed up in a straitjacket, with shackles on his legs and a hood over his head. Occasionally, his body thrashed a bit, but restrained as it was, the man couldn't move far or fall from the transport.

For fifteen long minutes, the snipers observed, their fingers on their triggers and their scopes trained on the man by the plane, who, for his part, did nothing except watch the trussed-up figure. Finally, a truck slowly rolled down the tarmac, stopping and then backing up to near the plane. A ramp unfolded from the back of the truck, exposing an inside that was, like the plane and the boxes, heavily covered with the mystical figures and etchings. Slowly, carefully, the man piloted the transport up into the truck, and after a few minutes inside, he exited and closed the ramp.

A strange caravan drove from the airport - an SUV with darkened windows, a military armored vehicle, the truck, two more armored vehicles, and another SUV. Overhead, four helicopter gunships kept watch, while even higher, two fighter jets and a heavy bomber flew cover, the bomber with orders to drop its thermonuclear warhead on the convoy without question, if so ordered. A short jaunt east on a strangely silent and closed Interstate highway, followed by a slow, cautious drive down highway 85, through Deadwood and into Lead, to the Homestake Gold Mine complex, and into a non-descript warehouse.

At the base of an enormous elevator, the strange man with the rune-marked clothing piloted the transport into a large corridor. Three new figures, also in rune-marked clothing unfastened the passenger from the transport, and half-dragged, half-carried the man in the strait-jacket down another corridor, while the first man continued to pilot the transport into a second elevator, and down to the lowest level of the Homestake Paranormal Activity Research Complex.

An hour later, Dr. Ernst Schmidt peeled off the last layer of magically-protected clothing, revealing sweat-soaked clothing. He wiped at his brow, trying to keep a little of the sweat from his hair from dripping down his face in what he knew was a losing battle. He looked at the five others in the observation gallery, their faces plastered against the glass window.

"Glad I'm okay, too," he chuckled sarcastically to the group.

One man and an aged Native American woman turned, smiling. "You, we can see every day," Dr. Hazel Two Bears replied, "but _this_! This we don't see every day."

Dr. Schmidt was relieved that his potential doomsday mission had been successful, but there was still something of concern to him. "Del," he started, "How's Roger?"

Del Flannery glanced quickly and nervously at Hazel, and then he winced, shaking his head slowly. Words weren't necessary.

"Let's go to my office," Ernst said suddenly, breaking the gloom. He led the other two out of the viewing gallery and to an elevator, where they silently ascended from the seven-thousand foot Level Ten to the five-thousand foot Level Seven facility. Inside an expansive office, complete with a fake view of an outside spring vista, Del and Hazel flopped heavily into arm chairs, while Ernst opened a cabinet. "I don't know about you, but after _that_, I need a drink. Scotch?"

"Only if it's the good stuff," Hazel said with a slight smile.

Ernst poured three small glasses of the amber beverage, and then joined them in a comfortable armchair, where he took a long, slow sip. "Well, that's over." He took another sip, his head lolled back and staring at the ceiling.

"It was a pretty long four hours," Del agreed.

"You weren't sitting on a nuclear warhead, watching a crate with Class X remains in it," Ernst corrected him, snapping a bit from his frayed nerve. He saw the grimace of contrition from Del and Hazel, and Ernst realized how frazzled he was. "Sorry. You didn't deserve that." He looked at Del. "Well?"

"It's a Mishibijiw, alright," Del replied. "But ... something's not right."

"How so?" Ernst' curiosity was stirred.

"Even _our_ legends and lore tell of People encountering Mishibijiw while traveling, and all accounts are of peaceful meetings. There are no tales of people going mad from seeing or touching a Mishibijiw, or of the Mishibijiw attacking others," Hazel said as she swished her scotch around in her glass, staring absently at it. "With the tribes of the Great Lakes and Northeast, the legends are the same. Mishibijiw is at times very beneficial."

"Not a Class X entity, then?"

"No."

"Then why did the finder go insane? And Roger ,,,?"

Hazel shook her head. "It's almost as if this one was corrupted by something that _is_ Class X," she replied slowly. "Something turned it into a dangerous entity."

Ernst sighed. He hated mysteries. "What can you tell me about it? Any ideas of what killed it?"

"I can't tell for certain without a full autopsy, and there's no way in hell I'm going to touch that thing!" Del said emphatically. "But from what we've seen with the robot, it looks like it has a couple of serious gashes in its hindquarters, and some kind of wound in its chest. And here's the curious thing - it has blood on its claws, probably from whatever it was fighting."

"So - something fought, and killed, a Mishibijiw that was somehow a Class X entity? And that something is still around, somewhere?" Ernst sounded suddenly very nervous.

Hazel and Del nodded in unison. "And it gets worse." Del watched as Ernst's eyes opened wider. "A Mishibijiw is supposed to have copper spikes on its tail. Copper infused with magical power. This one, though, has none."

"Maybe it's a youngster," Ernst speculated.

Del shook his head. "No. Something removed the copper spikes. Probably the same thing that killed it."

"You're just a bucket-load of fun today, aren't you?" Ernst asked sarcastically before he finished his scotch. He closed his eyes for a moment, visualizing himself somewhere - anywhere - but in this forsaken place of the damned. "Okay, Hazel," he said, opening his eyes again, "do we know anyone who's from that area? Preferably a shaman, who can tell us more about the Mishibijiw and anything mystical about where it was found?"

"Yeah, and you let him go back east yesterday, to check with the Iroquois shamans about any recent activity with that thing's siblings."

Ernst's eyes opened wide. "You mean ... Charlie Lodgeman? Totem?"

"Yup. He's a powerful shaman," Hazel stated, "and he's Iroquois."

"Get him here. I don't care what it takes. Get him here as quickly as you can. If possible, I want him here first thing in the morning, even if you have to use a warper or the SkyArrow."

End of Chapter 2

Kayda 2 - Trials of a Warrior, Chapter 3 - Ithunkasan na Ptan

Author:

Elrod

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Whateley Academy by Maggie Finson, et al

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A Whateley Academy Adventure

Kayda 2: Trials of a Warrior

Chapter 3 - Ptan na Ithunkasan

by ElrodW

Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Poe Cottage

I woke up a bit before the alarm clock, when it felt like Tatanka head-butted my brain.

"What the hell?" I snapped.

Tatanka lay on the ground, a smug smile on his face. "It was time for you to awaken, Kayda."

"Yeah, I know!" I protested. "That's why I set my alarm clock, so I'd wake up."

"When your alarm sounds, it wakens your roommate early. That's rude to Evvie."

"You could have nudged me before you knocked my brain halfway down the hall, you big oaf!"

Tatanka chuckled. "I tried. Several times. So I had to give you a harder nudge."

I crawled out of bed wearily, turned off my alarm clock, picked up my things, and slogged toward the showers. As soon as I opened the door, I heard Ayla's and Fey's voices, and I felt my shoulders tense.

Ayla was standing at the mirror flossing, but from where I stood, and from knowledge from my past life, I could see that he was using the mirrors to ogle the girls. I realized that I would have done the same, and I sighed in disgust before I noticed that his robe was tented. I was already halfway in the room, and girls had seen me, so even though I'd started shaking visibly at Ayla's little display, I swallowed hard and forced myself to join the line for the showers, clutching my robe closed in front to ensure that I wasn't giving Ayla - or anyone else, for that matter - a free show, and to hold my hands onto something to try to control the trembling.

Verdant emerged from one shower and started toweling off, so I slipped off my robe and, careful to keep my back to Ayla, I turned on the water and closed the shower door. As the water cascaded over my body, I saw Fey looking at me with an expression that I couldn't read. I scowled back, and then, after catching Ayla's eyes in the mirror, I my ghost-walking spell. A silver shimmer appeared around everyone else in the room, and I smiled to myself. Let Ayla try to gawk at me, or Fey try to sneer at me; they couldn't see me, and my modesty was protected. I looked down, and saw the rivulets of water running down the form of my hips and legs like a second skin of clear fluid. I looked up again, and saw Ayla focused into my shower, one eyebrow cocked curiously. I had to fight to keep from laughing aloud at how I'd foiled his roving eyes, even though I felt quite intimidated by thought that he might see an outline of water that wasn't touching me, and thus visible. I realized that I'd have to experiment with Evvie or someone else I trusted to see what it looked like when I ghost-walked in a shower. It wouldn't do much good for my privacy if everyone could see a shimmering, watery skin that outlined every curve of my body.

I felt a chill run down my spine when I saw Fey staring at my shower, frowning as she watched the effect of my ghost-walking in the shower. With a shiver coursing up and down my back from her puzzled expression, I finished, having to stop once to tell someone that my shower _was_ occupied, instead of just a shower running in an empty stall. I startled Sharisha pretty badly when I spoke, and a couple of girls giggled, obviously finding my trick cute, but I thought that Fey was still staring unhappily at me.

As soon as I stepped out and took my towel, Fey's eyes narrowed, and she stared at where I had been. When I clutched it, I knew from Wakan Tanka's instruction that the towel joined me in the ghost-walk, and it just 'disappeared' to outside observers. I moved to one side of the short lines, out of traffic flow, but her gaze stayed fixed on my last known spot. She wiggled her fingers a little bit, incanting some of her magic, and as she released the spell, I staggered as if slapped hard on my chest. Around me, the silver auras had vanished, and girls - and Ayla - were turning to me, surprised by my sudden appearance as my entire ghost-walking spell collapsed.

Rage erupted at her interference with my privacy. "What the fuck is your problem?" I screamed at Fey, who looked a bit surprised at what had happened.

"I didn't mean to ..." she stammered.

"Why can't you leave me alone?" I angrily snatched my toiletries from where I'd set them on a bench, and ran from the bathroom, leaving behind a room full of stunned girls asking themselves what _that_ was all about.

Behind me, as the door shut, I heard Fey and Ayla calling out after me, but I ignored them. I closed the room door a little hard, loud enough to finish awakening Evvie, who was already stirring, and cutting off something that Ayla was trying to say to me in the hallway.

"Morning," she mumbled, her eyes half-open as she fought off residual sleep. "What's going on?"

I was still scowling. "Fucking bitch!" I snarled angrily. "Can't she leave me alone?"

"Who?" Evvie asked, yawning as she stretched sexily.

"The elf bitch!" I snapped back. "Who else?"

Evvie sighed heavily. "What now?"

I flopped down on my chair to finish patting my hair dry. "I used my ghost-walking spell so the pervert couldn't ogle me, but Fey decided it was her right to wipe out my spell - probably just so Ayla could get an eyeful!"

"Kayda, that's not a fair accusation," Evvie said, frowning.

"Oh? So why did she cancel my spell?"

"Maybe it was accidental. Could it be that she was trying to understand what you'd done, because she thought it was a neat trick?"

"Or she doesn't like me and likes endangering and humiliating me!" I retorted angrily.

"Kayda, you're overreacting again," Evvie said cautiously as she wiggled out of her nightie. "You don't know _why_ she did, or even _what_, do you?"

"No, but ...."

"So don't get yourself all worked up before you ask. It might have been a simple mistake on her part," Evvie answered, pulling on her robe. "Since I'm going to shower, I'll see if anyone is talking about what happened, especially Ayla and Fey."

"Don't you dare talk to _her_ about this!" I demanded.

Evvie shook her head. "Kayda, you need to give her a chance and find out what was really going on before you accuse her of malice." She half-closed her eyes, shaking her head sadly. "Let me finish my shower, and then we'll go get some breakfast." With that, she closed the door behind her, leaving me alone to finish my morning routine.

I hadn't yet brushed my teeth - not surprising given my need to make a sudden exit, and I had to blow-dry my hair. I decided to wear it the way I'd seen Wakan Tanka wear her hair so often - parted and gathered and tied in bunches on either side of my face, loose enough that hair draped down in front of my ears almost to the corners of my eyes, accentuating my eyes and cheeks and making my face look more diamond-shaped. Wakan Tanka had to use leather ties, but I had it easier since I could use hair elastics. I'd gotten a few Lakota-themed hair accessories, so I tied in a pair of leather thongs with small feathers and dangling beads.

I didn't want to wear my uniform, so I pulled on my buckskin dress and my knee-high buckskin boots, lacing them up with leather thongs which criss-crossed around my calves, hugging them tightly. Debra had loved how they looked when I'd first worn them; I smiled to myself at the pleasant memory.

A knock on the door interrupted my application of makeup. I started, wondering who it could be.

"Kayda?" Ayla's muffled voice came through the door. "Can we talk?"

I fought down an unexpected surge of panic. Was that feeling because I'd seen Ayla's ... arousal in the bathroom? Was it too much of a reminder? Or was he delivering some message from Fey? In either case, I wanted nothing whatsoever to do with him or her at that moment. I stood still, trying to be perfectly silent, while inwardly, my paranoia had me believing that my pounding heart could be heard like a beating bass drum.

"Kayda?" Ayla called again, knocking just a little harder. "I'd like to talk with you please."

I stood still, and he knocked once more. Finally, I felt, through the earth and air spirits, that he was moving down the hall again. I finished my makeup, and after looking at my reflection in the mirror, I impulsively took the makeup which the Lakota store in Sioux Falls had sold me as a decent substitute for Lakota face paint, and applied two short vertical rust-colored stripes on each cheek, with a narrow white stripe between them. I wished that I had a camera; I though it looked nice, and that Debra would have liked a picture. Shrugging 'what the hell', I took a quick selfie, and then reached out once more to the air spirit. Sensing no-one in the hallway, I scampered out of my room, letting the door close with a thunk as I scurried down the stairs. The _last_ thing I wanted was another confrontation in the hallway with Fey or with his royal snobiness, Ayla.

There were a few Poesies meandering toward the caf, so, with a worried glance over my shoulder, I walked quickly toward Shuster to put as much distance between the 'terrible two' and myself as I could, and as quickly as I could.

I was approaching Shuster when I realized that Stormwolf, Adam Ironknife, was on an intercept course toward me, a scowl on his face. I sighed; I was in for another ass-chewing about being alone. It was no big deal; I could deal with a little bullying. I _had_ to deal with the bullying and harassment, or they'd think I was an easy target and escalate. "What do you want?" I asked, pre-empting whatever it was he was about to say.

"You aren't supposed to go anywhere without escort," he said, frowning. "You know that." He fell in step beside me for the last twenty meters to the doors into the caf.

"I'm an early riser, and my room-mate wasn't ready. I hate sitting around doing nothing," I said in a half-hearted defense. I knew it wouldn't fly with Stormwolf; I'd learned that he was mister straight-arrow, by-the-book, following every rule precisely. "Especially when I have nine classes," I added, "and don't have time to sit around doing nothing."

Adam shookhis head. "That's not an excuse. I have to report you for this."

"As if that's something new," I muttered. "Go figure - let's make it seven out of seven for having security incidents."

"That's not exactly something to be proud of," Adam said, sounding like he was delivering a warning.

I felt a little mischievous. "Wanna bet that I'm nine for nine by the weekend?"

Adam's frown deepened. "Not funny."

"I think it's a riot," I deadpanned. "Think of it as me doing my part to ensure that security keeps on their toes." We joined the serving line. "Besides, technically I wasn't alone. There were several other Poesies walking over here, too."

"You weren't exactly in a group, so I wouldn't call that being escorted," Adam countered.

"I thought it was good enough," I countered.

"Are you meeting someone here?"

"Eventually," I replied, enjoying that I was skirting the edge of the rules enough to keep him uncomfortable.

"You're going to get in serious trouble, Kayda," he said as we took trays.

"Eventually," I grinned and changed the subject. "Are you Tilamook? My spirit thinks that you are, because you have the face and height of the Tilamook."

Adam was taken aback by my change of topic. "No," he said cautiously. "I'm ... Ute."

I shrugged. "I guess my spirit was wrong." I couldn't help but grin at that thought. "That'd be a first - and I'll have to remind her about it sometime." I piled some eggs and bacon onto a plate, and added a slice of ham. "Although, I can understand why she thought so. You're tall for a Ute. More like the Pacific northwest tribes."

Adam seemed surprised at my comment. "You seem to know a bit about Native Americans," he observed, careful to keep his expression as neutral as he could.

"Not as much as my spirit," I chuckled. "Of course, she's a bit prejudiced toward the plains tribes." I glanced at his plate; compared to mine, he had a mountain of food. "I suppose you're going to sit with me until my friends arrive, right?"

"That's right."

"You know people are going to talk, don't you?" I said in a hushed voice, eliciting a startled look. As soon as I checked through the register, I strode easily to the group's table and sat down, and was joined moments later by Adam. He'd managed, in the intervening moments, to regain a bit of composure after my teasing.

"Are you planning on joining Mr. Lodgeman's Native American group?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I was thinking about it. What all does the group do?"

"Drumming, dancing. Some of the members are really into making costumes of their nations. Some have a lot of fun with stories and lore - it's kind of a contest to see who can be most dramatic with a legend." From his tone, he obviously wasn't into that aspect of things. "Every once in a while, there's a 'most outrageous legend contest'."

Tatanka snorted derisively. "Made-up stories and tales! Bah! Ask him if they learn things of importance, like warrior skills."

Wakan Tanka sighed, shaking her head. "There's more to life than being a warrior. You should see if the group teaches anything about native foods and medicines, and the shaman practices."

"Hunting skills are important, too," Tatanka added.

"You're assuming that I _want_ to learn such things." Both Tatanka and Wakan Tanka recoiled in horror at my words, which made me laugh. "Got you," I chuckled.

"Anything else? Foods? Medicines or magic? Hunting and fighting skills?" I asked.

Adam looked a little sheepish. "I'm not sure. Probably."

"Probably? Either they do or they don't."

"To be honest," he explained, "with my security duties, I don't go to all of the meetings."

"When are the meetings?" I asked. "Then again," I added quickly, "with my insane class schedule, I probably won't be able to go to the meetings either." I saw his puzzled expression. "They have me in nine classes, including a late evening class in French."

"That _is_ a rather heavy load."

"Yeah. Someone in the administration is trying to screw me over and make sure I don't have time for a social life," I complained, but without as much bitterness as I'd had the preceding two days. I couldn't help but wonder if I was getting used to the insanity, or was just too tired to bitch about it. "When are the meetings?"

"Thursday evenings after dinner. Do you want to come?"

"Can I? I mean, it's not some kind of closed fraternity thing, is it?"

Adam nodded. "It's not like a secret society or anything. Anyone who's registered with a tribe is welcome."

I winced at that. "I don't know if my mom ever registered me. I know Grandmother is enrolled, and by ancestry, I know I'm eligible."

"Based on your appearance," Adam said cautiously, "you're qualified, and you could certainly come as a guest, but you _should_ get registered with your tribe."

I tensed when I saw Team Kimba enter the dining hall, and like most students, they looked around a bit, although for Jade, it was difficult for her to see much since she was so short. Ayla raised an eyebrow when he saw me, and he turned to whisper something to Fey, who also turned to look at me. I could see some unknown expression on her face, but I was too far away to tell if it was annoyance, anger, or something else.

Adam saw where I was looking, and he turned. "Oh, the Kimbas." He shook his head. "They're completely nuts. Oh, and speaking of them, has anyone explained to you about Tennyo and Section 33?"

"Yeah. Mrs. Carson went over that when I got here."

"Good." He saw how Ayla and Fey were looking at me. "What's with them? Did you manage to piss them off somehow?"

"I don't know," I said, continuing to watch as they turned to get something to eat. Evidently, they'd tired of glaring at me, except Jade, who smiled and waved enthusiastically. I turned back to Stormwolf. "You seem pretty proud of your heritage."

"Aren't you?"

I chuckled. "Yes. But until a bit ago, I was only a quarter Lakota."

"You changed to a full-blooded Lakota?"

"Yeah. The Sioux Falls League testing people think it's because of the spirit I have. Since she's Lakota, they figure that she helped _nudge_ my form to something more suitable to her."

"That's a pretty drastic change, isn't it?"

I gave a quick glance toward a table of kids with GSD. "Not as bad as it could have been. You know, the group might have more fun with things like hunting and fighting, and native foods and stuff like that."

"Maybe," Adam said unenthusiastically.

"What would _you_ rather do? Tell stories, or that other stuff?"

"I suppose more variety," Adam admitted. His eyes tracked up, to somewhere over my left shoulder.

"Excuse me," I heard from behind me, and I instantly recognized Ayla's voice.

I didn't bother to even acknowledge Ayla. "I'd like to come to the meeting. It'll depend on whether I can work around my class schedule."

Adam frowned that I was ignoring Ayla. "Yes, Ayla?" he asked.

"Kayda," Ayla began, talking to me, "you were a bit upset this morning. Is everything okay?"

I didn't bother to look at him. "Everything's fine," I said tersely. "Now if you don't mind, I'm talking with Adam about the Native American group." By watching Adam's eyes, I could tell when Ayla had left.

"That was ... different," Adam observed cautiously. He had to know that something was going on, but he didn't say anything.

Fortunately, Evvie showed up right then. "You didn't wait for me, Kayda," she complained as she plopped down beside me, across from Adam, who raised an eyebrow at her comment.

"Yeah, well, things happened." I turned to Adam. "I'm not alone now, so you can go back to your security stuff," I said with a smile, trying not to be snippy or rude. I didn't like him being there, but at least he was more polite than the paid security officers.

Adam rose, taking his tray. "You know the rules, Kayda. Try not to break them so often. And in case you wondered, I have to file a security report." With that, he left, toward the stairs and an upper level, where the rest of his group usually sat.

Moments later, Adrian and Laurie joined us, followed by Vasiliy and finally Naomi. Adrian looked like he was in a pretty foul mood, one that even beat my own grumpiness. "What's up?" Evvie asked him.

Adrian scowled. "My training team broke up," he complained. "So now I'll probably get assigned with a bunch of other random people. Either that, or I won't be doing any training until next term.

"What's with a training team?" I asked, curious but not sure I wanted to know. I realized that Team Kimba must have been one.

"Simple. By the end of your sophomore year, you pretty much have to be on a team, or they assign you to one, so you can get more survival and combat training experience," Adrian said. "And now without a team, I'll get assigned to one at the end of the term." He sighed. "The random teams almost _never_ work out well."

"Debra didn't say anything about that," I scowled. I was having enough problems just going to BMA; some kind of training team requirement would be too much for me, especially with my impossible schedule.

"Yeah, well they don't really advertise it," Naomi grumbled. "It's always kind of a rude surprise, like when they pull the MID briefing and requirement on new students just before Thanksgiving."

"At least I won't have to go through _that_," I snorted, "because I've already got one."

"Since you're technically a sophomore based on classes you said you had," Adrian started, and I knew - and dreaded - where he was going, "maybe we could ...."

"No," I answered firmly, frowning. "No way."

"But you've got more real-world combat experience than the rest of us," Adrian protested.

"And I got my ass kicked twice - and they almost killed me. No!"

**********

Billie Wilson drew the short straw to escort me to math class. She tried to draw me out in conversation, probably at Ayla's orders, since she was on his team, but I really didn't want to talk to _anyone_ from Team Kimba. I was still very upset with Fey for what she'd done, and the haughty way she acted like she hadn't done anything wrong. And Ayla had really annoyed me by being so nosy and acting like I was the one who'd goofed; he certainly didn't seem to think that Fey might have crossed any lines. So it was with no regrets that I bade her farewell at the classroom door.

"Um, Kayda?" she asked before leaving, and in a meek, almost embarrassed voice.

"What?" I asked back, a little more tersely than was called for.

"Um," she seemed to recoil from my nasty mood. "Nothing, I guess," she said. "It's just that .... Um, forget it."

"No, what?" I asked her again. If I was somehow intimidating a Section 33, then maybe I was in too foul a mood. I thought of what Jackie had told me the day before. I needed to do some attitude adjustment. "Is there something you want to ask me?" I tried hard to make it sound polite and sincere.

"Someone said that you're kind of a math whiz," she said softly. "Like you're doing college-level math."

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you think that maybe you could help me?" she blurted out. "Math is my weakest subject, and sometimes, I just don't understand things."

"Oh. Um, yeah. I can try to help. But I have a very full class load," I cautioned her. "So we'll probably have to schedule something. Let me know, or leave a note on my door."

"Okay," she said, smiling again. "Thanks." She floated off toward her own class, leaving me shaking my head.

Damn, I swore to myself. I'd been such an ass, so focused on my own issues that I'd nearly scared her away from asking for help in my favorite subject -and I'd always loved helping people in math. At least when I tried, I was more cordial and polite, and she felt able to ask for help. I turned and went into the classroom, slogging into my seat and trying to ignore all those around me.

I wasn't surprised when Ms. Bell handed out a test; she'd warned the class the day before. I was surprised, though, when she didn't give me one. Instead, after the other students began, she came to me with a test and told me to do what I could. I groaned, thinking that I was getting babied because I was late, and the other students, who _had_ noticed would be merciless in their teasing. As I looked at the test, though, my eyes widened. I looked up to her, and she gave me a sort-of smile.

I zipped through the Calc 1 problems like I was reciting the alphabet, and had no problems with the trigonometry or matrices problems either. With more than half the class period left, I handed the test to the teacher. "What ...?" I started to ask in a hushed voice.

"Dr. Quintain suggested, very strongly, I might add, that we do an evaluation of your math skills. Given what you said yesterday, I agreed. If you pass this, we'll look at options for math classes and electives. There's no sense in wasting your time taking algebra if you can do calculus and other advanced math."

"I'll pass," I said confidently. "Thanks." I practically floated out of the classroom, a huge grin on my face. I called Poe, and had to wait for an escort, but I didn't mind.

When Rosalyn showed up, I was still on cloud nine. She looked at me, and smiled. "You're in a good mood."

"I had a test in math," I answered.

"And you're happy?" She shook her head. "You're weird."

"It seemed like a placement test. It's probably too early to celebrate, but maybe, just maybe, they'll realize that I _do_ know algebra, and I'll get out of that class, and get to reduce my class load."

"And then you'll want to celebrate, right?" Rosalyn said hopefully, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive way. "Like maybe coming to our hot tub party?"

"You're never going to give up, are you?" I groaned.

Rosalyn smiled. "Nope. I'm going to call Debra," she threatened.

I felt a smug smile creep across my features. "Go ahead," I dared her. "Last night, I told her about your nefarious plot."

"Oohhh," Rosalyn said, completely unflustered. "I bet she fondly remembers her hot tub parties, and encouraged you to go."

I goggled at her, absolutely flabbergasted at how unfazed she was. "She ... did mention that they were ... fun."

Rosalyn laughed. "That's one way to describe them. So how about it? Are you interested?"

I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, but I'm a one-woman woman, and my woman is Debra."

"You haven't had any ... experience yet, though," Rosalyn continued without pausing. "You might want to do a little comparison shopping."

"Not going to happen," I replied smugly.

"From what you said, you haven't had a chance to experience ... the joys and delights of the sisterhood. The offer for remedial class is open. With a little instruction, you can always ... surprise her."

I had to chuckle as I shook my head. "You're bad."

"Sometimes. And sometimes I'm really, really good," she said, licking her lips seductively.

"Tell you what," I offered. "If I do decide I need _more_ experience, I'll let you know."

"It's a deal. Er, wait. _More_ experience?" Rosalyn's jaw dropped. "But you said ... you hadn't ... um ...."

It was my turn to have a laugh. "Oh, didn't I tell you? We've been ... very close lately."

"But ... you're here, and she's there!" Rosalyn jawed. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Did I ever tell you about the Native American talent for dream walking? We've dream-walked together a lot. Including ...." I couldn't help but blush.

Rosalyn was so stunned that she halted mid-stride, her mouth agape and her eyes wide open. "You've ...?"

I grinned. "So you're a little late with your offer. Thanks anyway."

"But ... that was just a dream!" she stammered, trying to figure out how she'd been bested in our little verbal jousting.

"Yeah," I purred. "And more. Much, much more."

**********

Mrs. Hawkins looked as inflexible and inscrutable as she'd been the last time, but she seemed a lot less snooty. "Why would you like to withdraw from Basic Martial Arts?" she asked bluntly.

"Um," I winced inwardly, hoping it didn't show to her, "I ... I don't know anything, and I'm too far behind. I ... I don't think I can catch up."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Hawkins rebutted. "We have students come much later than you, and they have no difficulties."

"I ... I don't know how to fight," I continued softly. "It's ... it's useless to try."

She lifted a file and examined it. "Um, hmm," she muttered to herself before putting the folder back on her desk. "I see. Miss Franks," she began, "your file indicates that you were the subject of two rather ... brutal attacks."

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, shaken that such information was in my file.

"As a result of those attacks, your parents indicated that you were to be instructed in the arts of self-defense. Their desire is noted in your file."

I frowned, not liking what she'd just told me. "I'll talk to them about this."

Mrs. Hawkins pushed her desk phone across to me. "Please do. I would hate to have any misunderstandings continue for even a moment longer than necessary."

I looked at her for a few long seconds, trying to read her poker face. Was she hoping to intimidate me into continuing the class? I picked up the phone, deciding to call her bluff, and I dialed my home. As it rang, Mrs. Hawkins reached over and pressed the 'speaker' button, so she could hear the conversation as well.

On the third ring, Mom answered it. "Good morning," she sang cheerily, as she always did. "Franks residence."

"Hi, Mom," I replied.

"Oh, hi, sweetie," she cooed. "There's nothing wrong, is there? Aren't you supposed to be in classes now?" Typical of Mom to immediately worry.

"No, Mom," I said to reassure her, "there's nothing wrong. Well, except a little problem with my classes."

"Oh? Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need me to speak to someone?"

"I'm in my advisor's office, on speakerphone, Mom," I explained quickly. "There's a little misunderstanding that I need you to clear up."

"What's that, sweetie?"

I hated her calling me sweetie, but I knew I'd never stop her from doing that. "Um, they put me in a martial arts class ...."

"Oh, that's good. Your father and I worried so much about you. We were hoping that there would be a good class to teach you self-defense, and ...."

"Mom, I don't want to _be_ in the class!" I interrupted her.

"Why, dear? Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, there's a problem," I said, scowling. "The instructors are ... not very nice!" I grumbled. "They humiliated me, for no reason. And then they shoved me to one side so I can't participate, like I totally don't belong!" I fought to control a mix of tears from how I'd been embarrassed and anger at the two senseis. "I have a lot of other classes that I _have_ to take, and that class is interfering. It's ...."

"Is that the class that Debra told us about? That's the one I was hoping they'd put you in."

"Yes, Mom," I sighed, "but Debra didn't mention that the instructors were so ... nasty!"

"Well, dear," Mom said after a brief pause, "we talked with Debra, and we really want you in the best class they have. Debra speaks so highly of that Mister Ito that I was really, really hoping you'd have him as an instructor."

"Mom, I don't want to take that class!" I argued.

"Honey, I know you might not like it, but we have to do what's best for you, and that's what both Debra and that nice Mrs. Carson recommended."

"You're paying for me to be treated like ..." I caught myself, "like crap?"

"We want you to give the class a chance, dear," Mom continued, unfazed by my entreaties. "If you don't like it this term, you can take something else next term."

"I ... I could take survival," I protested. "That teaches how to get out of bad situations.

"Kayda," Mom said sternly, "you have to learn something to protect yourself. You know what your Dad says."

"It's best to avoid a fight, but sometimes, when you can't avoid it, you need to know how to fight to win," I repeated Dad's philosophy.

"We couldn't live with ourselves if we let you slide by, and then something happened to you."

Damn. My one weakness - Mom pulled out the guilt. "No, Mom," I mumbled.

"Okay. Now is there anything else?" she asked cheerfully. "It _is_ class-time there, so you probably can't talk long."

I saw Mrs. Hawkins reaching out toward the phone to end the call, a knowing smile on her face. "No, I can't. But while I've got you here, can you have Grandma Little Doe get me more medicinal herbs? Especially the ones for the tea she knows I like? A lot, too."

"Okay."

"And can you send me a jar or two of chokecherry jelly? I really, really miss it."

"I'll get it in the mail tomorrow."

"We're sorry to have disturbed you, Mrs. Franks," Mrs. Hawkins said. "We have to get Kayda to her next class now."

"Okay. Take care of yourself, dear. Goodbye," she said before hanging up.

Mrs. Hawkins slid the phone back to its proper place, taking an extra moment to ensure that it was very precisely positioned, and then she looked back at me. "Now that we have _that_ issue clarified," she said pleasantly, "is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"No," I mumbled, my good mood from math now completely ruined. "Since you won't listen to me about math and English," I added under my breath softly so she wouldn't hear.

"Very well. Miss Franks, the martial arts class _is_ in your best interest, even if you don’t understand it. All of your classes have been selected based on the transcripts the administration gave me, and with Ms. Hartford's help, I selected a curriculum that will help you catch up to the other students, especially in the areas relating to your mutant powers. Now, if you have no further questions, Miss Franks," she said, "I have other work I must attend to. You know where my office is if you have any further difficulties."

**********

The locker room was noisy, as expected, as all the girls changed for martial arts. I sat as far to one side as I could, elbows on my knees, looking down at the floor. Beside me on the bench was my gi, still in its package. Occasionally, one of the girls would glance my way, and I heard some hushed voices during lulls in the otherwise jocular and boisterous conversation, probably talking about me. For the most part, though, they ignored me, which was fine with me. After yesterday's little ... event, I really didn't want to go out in that class, if only because I knew that my fit had been way over the top. Even if Ito and Tolman had been rude, my own behavior was nothing to be proud of. Maka had been right, and I'd ignored his lesson. Now I had my shame to show for it.

I hated the situation I'd gotten myself into. Even without being lectured by Tatanka or Wakan Tanka, I knew that I'd brought it on myself. I could have retreated into my dream-world, safe from students and instructors, but my two spirits would have nagged at me for what I'd done, and told me to go face the consequences. Great - Pinnochio had only Jiminy Cricket as a conscience. I had my own, plus the two spirits in my head, so when I messed up, I was going to get no peace of mind - which was exactly the situation I found myself in.

I sensed a girl coming toward me. Even my senses were nagging me, it seemed.

"Hah," the girl said in probably the thickest Southern accent I'd ever heard, almost stereotypically so.

I looked up at the girl, who was tall and slender, with long brown hair held back in a ponytail. Her gi was a bit baggy, probably too big for her, but she didn't seem to notice or care.

"Y'all better get dressed and out on the mat so ya don't get in trouble."

"I'd rather not," I said morosely. "Not after yesterday."

"We all have our days," she said, grinning. "Even if it ain't true, just claim y'all are havin' PMS. All the girls'll understand, and there ain't a guy alive who'd dare say a word about it!" She stuck out her hand towards me. "Ah'm Alicia. Alicia Thacker. Ah'm from Loosiana."

I took her hand. "Kayda Franks." I almost chuckled at the carefree way she'd offered me an out. At least the frown vanished - a little bit.

"Are y'all that gal with the buffalo?" she asked bluntly as she picked up my gi off the bench and handed it to me.

"Yeah, that's me," I groaned. "Some people started calling me Buffalo Gal."

"Ah take it ya don't like that," Alicia said.

"Not particularly, no." I just sat, staring at my gi.

"If y'all don't like martial arts, what are ya doin' in this class?" Alicia asked the obvious.

"My parents are making me take this, 'cause I got beat up pretty badly - twice. They think I should know how to defend myself."

"Sounds reasonable, if ya ask me."

"Except when your instructors treat you like shit," I muttered. "Chewing me out without even asking my name? Pushing me to one side and ignoring me for the rest of class?" I shook my head, staring at the floor. "I don't see how I can learn anything if they treat me like that. And I don't see why I should have to put up with that crap."

"Ya'll learn more watchin' than y'all will just sittin' in here," Alicia observed. "Ah gotta get mahself out t' the mat so Ah don't get in trouble. Nice meetin' ya." She turned and quick-stepped out of the locker room, leaving me all alone, sitting on the bench, with my gi in hand.

I could just sit here for the rest of the term, not bothering to attend class. So I'd get an F. Better than being humiliated every day.

Not more than two minutes later, Sensei Tolman charged into the locker room, paused to look around, and then made a beeline for me. "Get dressed and get out to the mat."

I looked back down at the floor, shaking my head. "I don't want this stupid class," I mumbled.

Sensei Tolman sat down beside me. "I talked with Dr. Bellows and with your advisor. You aren't going to be allowed to drop, so put on your gi and go out to the mat."

"No," I said curtly. "There's no law that says I can't sit out the class."

"Except that you'll fail," Tolman countered. "Or you'll get to have a chat with the administration about disciplinary detention. Or both. Or even expulsion. It's your choice."

Seeing that she wasn't budging, but was serious about me going to either detention or to the mat, I grumbled as I pulled off my dress and put on my gi, then followed Sensei Tolman out to the gym.

I could almost feel the stares directed my way from the other students, and despite the fact that Sensei Ito was watching two students sparring, I could hear the murmurs of the other students talking about me. I felt like I was on display, and not favorably so, which didn't help my mood at all.

Sensei Tolman picked another student, who I'd seen with the advanced group the previous day, and took me to one side. "I want you to try to defend yourself, and to attack - slowly, so I can see what you know and how you move."

"I don't know anything about fighting," I countered.

"Do your best," Tolman told me. "The round ends when you can't fight, in which case you slap the mat to indicate that you were defeated, or when you are thrown from the ring. Bow to your opponent," she said, and I followed instructions. "Hajime. Begin."

My opponent was in some kind of fighting stance, but I didn't move. I didn't see any point. He moved warily, closing on me, looking cautious but confident. I raised my hands in what I thought was a defensive position, but in a blur of motion, he turned, bending at the waist, and shot his right foot into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me and sending me flying from the ring to land awkwardly and painfully.

Surprisingly, he looked disappointed that he'd so easily won the round; I suspected that he was fond of fighting and wanted a challenge. Well, it was too bad for him, because I had no fighting skills, and was so outclassed that it wasn't even funny.

"Again," Tolman said curtly. She showed me a stance that would help my balance, and would have my body positioned to ward off an attack. It didn't help at all; I was thrown violently to the mat again, this time landing painfully on my shoulder.

"This time, attack him, Kayda."

I levered myself off the mat and walked back to the ring, only too aware that many of the students were watching me instead of watching Ito. That made me even more self-conscious, and I really regretted coming out to the mat.

Once more, Sensei Tolman had us bow, but this time, she admonished me to not take my eyes off my opponent when bowing. When she said begin, my opponent moved into his stance and then began to close on me. I clumsily imitated how he was standing and moved toward the center of the mat, if for no other reason than it would be a tiny bit more difficult for him to force me out of the ring. When I was close enough, I threw a punch as hard as I could, straight for his chin.

The next few milliseconds were a blur because everything happened so fast. He blocked my punch easily, elbowing me painfully in the ribs as my momentum carried me past him, and then, somehow, still turning, he delivered a high round kick to the side of my head. The world exploded in a brilliant cascade of stars and colors to go with the pain.

A fist slammed into my ribs, and another one hit my cheek. Blow after blow smashed into my body as I was held, helpless against the brutal onslaught. I could hear a rib crack as one fist slammed into my side, and my kidney ached terribly. Someone sounding far off was screaming in pain, interspersed with pleas for the attackers to stop.

"Hey, Brandon's turned into a girl! Let's screw her!" I heard a voice laughing lustfully at me as hands pawed at my body.

More fists and feet smashed into me, even as hands tore at my clothing. Someone kicked me in the side - hard - and I nearly retched. I was surprised to find that I was the one crying and whimpering under the non-stop rain of blows.

"Don't kill her yet. Let's have some fun with her first," one of the guys laughed. Through it all, no matter how I cried or pleaded, the blows continued to pummel my already battered body.

**********

Laird Hall

"Kayda?" I heard Sensei Tolman's voice calling to me, pulling me back from my recurring nightmare. "Kayda, can you hear me?"

I tried to roll over, but that just pointed out another part of my body that hurt. "Uhnnn," I groaned. My cheeks were wet, and I was trembling. I felt hands helping me sit up, and I fought another surge of panic as I tried desperately to push them away.

"Kayda, it's me, Alicia. Let me help ya sit up."

It took a second for her name to register. "Uh huh," I said, wincing. My ribs hurt badly, and my head was throbbing with pain.

"Back to your places on the mat," I heard Ito bark. "You aren't excused from instruction." The small cluster of students who'd gathered around me went grudgingly back to the edge of the mat into their seiza positions, and he moved to keep their attention away from me.

Sensei Tolman squatted down beside me. "Are you okay?" she asked. Despite my thoughts that she was a complete bitch, I noticed concern in her voice.

"Uh, yeah, I think so. What happened? Why ... why were they all around me?" I was afraid that I knew the answer, but I had to confirm my suspicions.

"You tell me," Sensei said. "You hit pretty hard, and then you curled up in a fetal position and were crying and screaming 'no'. For a few minutes, you weren't responsive at all."

"Uh," I stammered, "I ... I don't know," I lied. I didn't want even more people knowing the ugly truth.

"You didn't even try to fight the first two rounds," she said, her voice a little cautious. "Why not?"

"There's no point," I grumbled in a resigned voice. "Didn't you see?"

"That's what we're here to teach you," she countered. "To defend yourself."

"It's not worth it." I shook my head, wincing at the pain that accompanied even that small motion. "All it does is piss them off, and makes the beatings and other stuff worse." I let my voice trail off; I'd said far more than I should have.

Sensei frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing." I decided to clam up.

"I can look in your file if I need to," she cautioned me, "and it looks like I need to, unless you tell me what happened."

"My ... former friends tried to kill me after I manifested," I spat bitterly. "Twice. They beat the crap out of me. They almost killed me."

"Then you need to learn to defend yourself."

"It wouldn't help. There are always more of them, and they'll just keep on ...."

"What do you mean by 'and other stuff'?" she continued to question me.

"Nothing," I lied again. I didn't want to be interrogated. "Dr. Bellows says I have PTSD from ... that," I continued, hoping to give her a reason to let me drop, or to at least stop questioning me.

Tolman looked at me evenly for several seconds before she stood. "Charge, Headrush, Murphy, Rip, Flex!" she called out. Immediately five girls around Ito sprang to their feet and ran to where Tolman and I were, including Alicia, who'd introduced herself in the locker room, and Riptide, who I recognized from Poe.

"Yes, Sensei?" Alicia asked, a little too eagerly.

"When you girls are working with basic instruction, I want you to group with Kayda. Since she's totally inexperienced, she'll need help with the basics. When we're practicing basics, you'll team up in teams of two, so one of you can help instruct Kayda, while the other two pairs work together. You'll rotate partners every four or five minutes, so you will all get time to work on current stuff, and time to help Kayda catch up. Got it?"

"Yes, Sensei!" the girls replied sharply.

"Okay, go back to Ito Soke for the rest of today's instruction." As the girls hurried off, Tolman stretched out her hand and tugged me to my feet. "We'll work on some basics, like falling so you don't hurt yourself."

"I suppose," I agreed reluctantly. "But it's a waste of time. I don't have any powers that are useful for fighting."

"You don't need powers to fight effectively," Tolman countered. "Ito Soke is a baseline, but he routinely takes out two or three students using their powers. It's not about fighting with power, but about fighting smart."

"But ... you saw. I'm small, and I don't have the strength ...." I tailed off on that; as an exemplar, I _did_ have strength. I'd forgotten about that. But compared to the other students, I was a weakling.

"Why are you so negative about learning to defend yourself?" she asked me bluntly.

I inadvertently glanced at the other students, to see who might be listening in. Sensei noticed.

"You took a couple of hard falls. I think you're done for the day. Let me take you to the locker room so you can change." Once we were inside, behind a closed door, Sensei Tolman sat down on a bench and gestured for me to do the same on a bench opposite her. "Okay, let's talk. Why are you so negative about martial arts?"

"I don't see how it could help," I answered softly, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, my hands together, and staring at my hands.

"You were severely beaten twice. You could have fought back and possibly stopped it."

I shook my head, snorting derisively. "You don't know my hometown. All that would have happened is that the corrupt police would have arrested _me_ for assault, and then let the Humanity First! fanatics or the MCO have me. It would have ended the same, or worse. If I'd have fought back, they wouldn't have stopped until they were _sure_ that I was dead."

"Perhaps. We'll never know. But you can be prepared for the future," she suggested.

"I could have gotten along with survival instead of this."

"After watching you go nearly catatonic for a few minutes, and thinking about what you said, the 'other stuff', I have to ask if you were ... sexually assaulted?"

I bit my lip, fighting to not slip back into an episode and to not cry. I shook my head in denial.

"Kayda," Sensei Tolman said, lifting my chin so I was looking her eye-to-eye. "Were you ... assaulted?"

Slowly, unsure of whether I could keep emotion out of my voice if I spoke, I nodded, dropping my gaze back to the floor.

"I see."

"I ... have to see Dr. Bellows daily, because I've got PTSD. And ... I'm on a watch."

"Suicide watch?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "It won't help. Martial arts, I mean. I'll just have flashbacks, and freak out, and ... I won't be able to fight."

Tatanka shambled up to where I sat in the mountain meadow, my knees drawn up and my arms crossed atop them. "You have questions, Wihakayda," he said, certain that he knew what I was thinking.

"I ... I don't want to take this class, Tatanka," I said softly.

"Why not?"

I sighed, not looking at the big lug. "The instructors aren't very nice, and I don't know anything about fighting."

"It would help if you didn't have a negative attitude when you went to class," Tatanka said. He started across the meadow. "Come, Wihakayda." He started off into the woods without waiting for me.

"Who this time?" I asked as I followed the white buffalo. He didn't answer, but led me deeper into the woods. He stopped by a tree, so I stopped beside him.

"That's Pahi, the porcupine," Tatanka said.

"Why are you introducing me to him?"

"I'm just showing you Pahi now. All you need to do is to look at him and understand his nature."

I frowned. "What's that, besides the fact that he's got a back full of quills?" I asked sarcastically.

"Kayda, you need to calm yourself. Pahi is good at defending himself. He's equipped to keep himself safe. Notice that he's not aggressive, but pretty shy, and he doesn't start fights. But if an enemy decides to attack him, he is prepared."

I glared at the white bison. "I think you're trying to give me a message."

"And what message do you think that might be?" he asked, trying to sound innocent.

"That I need to be prepared to defend myself," I grumbled.

"Very good, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said as she came up behind me. "You have an opportunity to learn, so you must take it."

"Or would you rather have to defend yourself and Cornflower without knowing how?" Tatanka asked rhetorically. He _knew_ the answer - I'd fight to the death to defend her. I already almost had.

"Kayda," Sensei Tolman said again, concerned that I'd spaced out for a few moments. "Kayda," she said again to get my attention.

"Sorry," I answered softly. "My ... spirits ... wanted to talk to me."

She waited until I looked up at her. "I suspected what you just admitted. You've got a lot to deal with. Nobody can change the past, but we can help you _avoid_ such situations in the future. You have to _want_ to learn."

I wasn't sure if I believed her. "But ... my PTSD episodes ...."

"Why do you think I have you working with a group of girls for now?"

"But ... one against twelve? Eight of them from the football team?" I shook my head in disbelief that basic martial arts could have helped.

"It's not the number of opponents," Sensei Tolman said with a wry smile. "It's the skill of the fighters. If they're unskilled, and you know martial arts well and you want to survive the fight, you'll come out on top. The question is whether you want to try?"

"But ... when I have to fight ... boys ...." I said, shuddering involuntarily at the thought.

"We'll work up to that, with advice from Dr. Bellows," Tolman assured me.

I looked at her for several seconds before I nodded. "Okay."

She stood up. "Are you feeling good enough to start learning, or do you need to recuperate a bit from your sparring today? There's still twenty minutes of class time."

I looked at her, considering. "I might as well use the time," I answered softly.

**********

Kirby Hall

I beat Ayla and Fey to magic class, so I sat down away from them, deliberately sitting next to Tansy's seat. When she came in, she eyed me critically, all but verbally asking what the hell I was doing next to her spot. "Morning," I said.

Tansy sat down, still eyeing me and not sure how to reply. She ended up saying nothing, but continued to watch me warily, with a thoroughly unpleasant expression.

When Ayla walked in with Fey, the two paused in the doorway to look around, and when they spotted me, they both frowned deeply. Fey's look of disapproval was almost to the point of an evil glare, and I returned a sneer, so she'd know what I thought of her haughty airs and her rude actions.

Tansy watched the entire silent exchange, one eyebrow raised. "Interesting," she muttered to herself. I heard, but chose to ignore her observation. "Good morning," she then said to me sweetly. "Nice day, isn't it?" Her attempt at small talk was forced, but my very blatant disagreement with Ayla and Fey had piqued her interest

"Only when people aren't stabbing you in the back," I replied without emotion.

Tansy's eyebrows rose. "I thought all you crazy Poe residents stuck together."

I snorted."Yeah, that's what I heard, too. Turns out it's not true."

I had her attention; besides Ayla's warning that Tansy was a bitch, there was more to their interactions and relationships, and my annoyance at the two TK members was of great interest to Tansy. I'd have to ask around to find out the background. At the very least, there was someone who was _not_ a Kimba that I might be able to talk with.

Ms. Grimes entered the room, and we began our magic lesson. Through it all, though, Fey just glowered at me, and between Ayla's sideways glances, Fey's stare of displeasure, and Tansy's occasional peeks at me with obvious delight that there was friction amongst us, I was distracted from the lesson. I wasn't very participatory, and when a student did a demonstration, I completely missed it.

"Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said urgently to me, "you aren't paying attention to your teacher."

"Yes, I am," I protested immediately. "I read what the lesson is about."

"Do you have any idea of what spell the other student just did?"

"Uh," I stammered, "no," I admitted. "But I was distracted by Fey and Ayla!"

Wakan Tanka shook her head. "That's not an excuse. Your task when you are with an instructor is to learn, not to fixate on disputes with other students."

Chastened, I focused on the rest of the class. Once class ended, I hurried out of the building, looking for Irene for another 'escort' to the caf. Unfortunately, Irene came out with Ayla and Fey, all of them looking a little upset - probably with me. I sighed and turned down the walkway, ignoring once again the orders for not being alone.

As Tatanka had instructed me, I took time to listen to the air and earth spirits, to help me be more aware of my surroundings. When something disturbed the air spirit, I hastily incanted my shield spell. A few seconds later, there was a whoosh of something running past me, and a large slushy, muddy mess splattered on the shield. I sighed, and, ignoring the entire incident, continued walking. Moments later, though, almost as expected, Thunderfox jogged to my side, while another member of the Wild Pack, one I hadn't yet met, dropped from the sky in front of me.

"Are you okay?" Thunderfox asked in a commanding voice. Around us, students walked while watching us with amusement and interest.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said with a shrug. "I had my shield spell active, so it didn't even hit."

"Where's your escort?" the unknown guy asked bluntly. He struck me as being as much of a rules-facist as Adam.

I shrugged again. "They didn't show, so I just used my shield spell to protect me." I frowned. "Who are you?"

"Firecat," the guy said simply.

"Sounds like a damned cartoon character," I muttered.

Thunderfox ignored my comment, narrowing her eyes, and looking down the path. I followed her gaze, and saw Fey and Ayla walking toward us. "Oh?" she asked. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to the caf, to meet my friends for lunch."

"Sorry," the guy said. "We have to file a report on this because you had an incident and you're unescorted."

I sighed with frustration. "Nope," I replied. "Nothing happened to me, and I'm hungry."

"That's twice today you've been without your escort," Thunderfox said, frowning, "that we know of. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Not deliberately," I said with a shrug, "but some people here seem to have other ideas. So it really doesn't matter, does it?"

"It _does_ matter," Firecat said sternly. "You've got to follow the rules for your own safety."

"Will you stop by security after lunch to fill out the report?" Thunderfox asked, trying to get to a workable compromise.

"I suppose," I replied. "Now can I go get some lunch?"

Thunderfox fell in at my side. "Now you can. Unless you want to wait for your friends from Poe."

I frowned. "Let's go," I said, starting to walk quickly. I had no desire to wait for Ayla and Fey.

**********

Crystal Hall

I was just about to make tea to go with my lunch when Irene came to the table with two young girls, one on either side. "Hi," she said cheerfully. "You promised you'd show me how to make your magic tea."

I glanced around the table at my friends. Laurie and Naomi were chuckling, and Evvie was just shaking her head. Vasiliy was a bit confused, and Adrian just shrugged. "I suppose I can do that now."

"Ahem." We all turned to see Mindbird staring unhappily at me and the three girls. "Are these three bothering you?" She gestured at the three girls.

I shook my head, smiling. "No. I _did_ promise Irene ...."

"Palantir," Irene interrupted. "That's my code name. It's pretty cool, isn't it?"

"And I'm Clover," one of Irene's buddies said. "Pally, you said it would be easy to get the essence!"

"Yeah, Pally," the other whined. "You didn't tell us that security would be here."

"Don't call me that!" Irene said with a huge frown. She looked back at me, then at Mindbird, before looking back at me, doing her best sad puppy-dog eyes. "You did promise," she whined.

Mindbird sighed. "Is this more of your magic tea?"

I nodded, and pulled Ms. Grimes' note from my backpack, anticipating her next question. "Here."

Mindbird read it quickly. "I see. Okay, I guess it's up to you to deal with any crowds you draw, then."

I put the letter back in my bag, and then took out supplies. "Who wants some?" The guys didn't care for any, but the girls naturally wanted some. I glanced up at Mindbird. "Would you like some, now that you know it's safe?"

"No thanks," she replied.

"You _do_ look kind of tense. It'll help you relax a bit," I suggested. When she didn't answer, I sent Palantir and her friends for some cups of water while I began to prepare. It didn't take long for me to chant, completely from memory now since I'd cast the spell so frequently, and within a couple of minutes, I had four cups of hot herbal tea.

Naomi, Evvie, and Laurie knew what to expect, but Mindbird seemed hesitant. She let the aroma waft across her nose, and she seemed enticed by the smell. When she took a sip, her expression changed from cautious to looking quite content. "Mmm," she said, exhaling slowly. "This is good. And it feels like someone massaged my neck and shoulders."

"Told you so," Evvie said with a grin, sipping her own tea.

As the others chatted away over tea and their lunches, the three middle-school girls returned and sat down at the table. Both of the newcomers were complaining that I wasn't going to teach _them_ how to make tea, or to make some for them. I didn't change my mind, though; I'd been warned about how overly-enthusiastic and reckless the three little witches, as they'd been called, could get. I was actually starting to have second thoughts about teaching Irene, but a promise was a promise.

"Okay, you should take notes, or have one of your friends take notes," I told Irene. First, I went through the ingredients, making sure that the one that the two little witches called Abracadabra wrote down the list, and then I instructed her in how to assemble the tea, including going over the ritualistic chants a few times so she had them straight. Finally, I demonstrated by making my own tea, and the girls ooh'd and aah'd when the spell was complete and there was a small flash in the cup. I took a sip of the now-hot liquid, feeling the soothing effect flow through my body, easing tensions that I wasn't aware of.

"Your turn," I said with a smile to Irene.

Showing her uncertainty, she focused on the cup, picked up the first ingredient, crushed in between her fingers over the cup while she awkwardly chanted the first few lines. She repeated the process for all six ingredients, and at the end, when she finished the final chant, there was a small twinkle within the fluid.

"It didn't flash like it did in your cup," Irene complained. She picked up the cup. "And it's only a little warm."

"That was the natural magic infusing the tea," I explained to her.

"But ... it's cold! Not like yours."

"Because you need a little bit of what Ms. Grimes calls essence to make it work all the way."

Irene frowned. "Well, that stinks."

"Try it," I urged her.

She glared at the tea for a few seconds, but then picked it up and took a sip. "It tastes funny," she said with a frown, but then her expression eased. "It feels ... warm inside a little bit." Her eyes widened some. "And ... there's a little bit of essence!" she said with a grin. "I feel a little magic from it!" She was practically giddy, almost jumping up and down with excitement. "I want some more. Can you get me the ingredients? Please, please, please?"

"Let me try," Clover said, trying to take the tea. Abracadabra reached for it as well, but Clover took a drink. She frowned a moment later. "I don't feel anything," she complained. "Are you sure there was something there, Pally?" she asked skeptically.

"I felt it. I know I felt some essence," Irene countered sharply, "and don't call me that."

"You have a list of the ingredients," I told Irene. "If they don't have them in the bookstore, you can order them."

"Can you give me some? Please?" she begged, trying puppy-dog eyes on me once more.

Fortunately for me, she wasn't very good at puppy-dog eyes. "No, because I'm getting low."

"If you get some more ...?" she started to ask.

I chuckled. She might be a little operator, but I had the upper hand, at least right now. "Depends. Maybe we can help each other out."

The three little witches scurried off, probably heading to the bookstore to see if they could buy the supplies.

"It's probably not a good idea to help her get any more magic than she already has," a voice sounded from behind me.

I stiffened at recognizing Ayla's voice. "I made a promise," I said, trying to keep even the faintest trace of emotion out of my voice, despite the fact that his presence had ruined the calm I'd had from my tea.

"Those three could create a lot of mischief if you give them essence," Ayla said cautiously.

"I didn't give her any," I countered. "Anything she got came from the natural magic of the ingredients, and the chants focused her own magic into the brew."

Ayla glanced at the seat opposite me. "May I?"

I shrugged noncommittally. "I don't see anyone sitting there."

Ayla sat down. "I have the distinct impression that something is bothering you," he began.

Evvie gave me a strange look, probably unseen by Ayla. I think she was trying to send me a signal that I should talk to find out what was going on and quit over-reacting.

I shrugged. "Nothing more than normal," I answered in as neutral a tone as I could manage.

Ayla frowned. "It seems like you're avoiding Fey and me."

I just shrugged and took a sip of my tea, wishing that it had more magic to help restore the calmness that Ayla's presence had stolen away. "Ya think?" I asked sarcastically.

"Did something happen between you and Fey?"

"Why don't you ask _her_?" I replied, not completely successful at keeping emotion out of my voice despite my best efforts. "If something happened, it was her doing, not mine, not that she'd recognize it or even, dare I say, apologize."

"And sitting with Tansy in magic class?" Ayla continued with a raised eyebrow.

"There weren't any other free desks."

Ayla frowned at that; he knew that was a lie, since I'd arrived early enough to get any of the desks that weren't regularly taken. "Why don't you come upstairs so you and I and Fey can discuss whatever happened? I know she's a little puzzled."

"Oh? Is that why she glares at me like I'm evil incarnate and need to be eliminated?" I said through clenched teeth. This discussion was getting very annoying. "Now if you'll excuse me," I said, standing, "I need to go outdoors where my spirits are more comfortable. They don't like being cooped up indoors all day." I bused my tray, and then walked out of the cafeteria. It was only when I got outside that I realized that I'd been so occupied, first with the tea, and then with Ayla, that I hadn't eaten. Crap. Ayla had upset me a lot more than I'd realized.

"Hey, Kayda," I heard from behind me. I stopped, and saw Sharisha running to catch up. "Wait up." I paused, and she was quickly at my side. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"I need to get away from ... that," I said, shuddering involuntarily. "I start feeling cooped up indoors. Besides, it's nice outside."

"Yeah, but you're supposed to wait for one of us," Sharisha reminded me.

"Yeah, I know. But talking with Ayla just pisses me off."

Sharisha snorted. "Ayla's a sick fuck. A total pervert." I knew she disliked Ayla, but her tone spoke of a hatred that went through her very core. "Worse is my roommate playing kissy-huggy with ... it!" We walked toward one of the sitting areas. "What did the Goodkind do to you?"

I shrugged. "I'm sick of him playing diplomat and acting like all of Fey's fuckups are my fault. He's acting like she can do no wrong, and then she has the audacity to get mad at me for what she's done. I suppose it's to be expected, though, since Ayla's covering for his teammate."

"What did the faerie queen do to you?"

I should have expected that question. "To start with she intruded in my dream-world."

"Dream world?"

"Yeah. It's like hyper-realistic dreams, and you remember every little detail, including taste, touch ... everything. Everyone has their own dream-world. Fey came traipsing into mine, with her Sidhe magic tearing up all the barriers so demons could have attacked me. And then she accused _me_ of messing with _her_ dreams!"

"Wait, you mean that you can get attacked in your dream world thing?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I was once already by a Lakota snake demon. What was worse is that it attacked ...." I glanced around to make sure we had some privacy, "... my girlfriend, and I had to rescue her."

"But that was just a dream, right?"

I shook my head solemnly. "Nope. If it had harmed her in the dream world, it would have harmed her in the real world, too. And the queen came waltzing into my dream world, shredding the magic barriers, so the demon spirit could have attacked me, or Debra. And after I pointed out that it was _her_ spirit that had invaded my dream space, she didn't even apologize."

"She's been hanging around the perv so long that she's picking up Ayla's sense of entitlement and bad manners," Sharisha snarled. Clearly, she had hate on for Ayla, but that was no secret in Poe. In fact, she had a real hate thing going for all the changelings; I was guessing that she figured I was merely a lesbian because I wasn't rooming with another changeling, and I wasn't about to disabuse her of that notion.

"Do you know what happened to me this morning?"

"That sick bastard didn't ...."

"No, nothing like that," I quickly interrupted for fear she'd go try to neuter Ayla. I realized that she'd been the one cheering against men a few nights earlier. Either her or Hippolyta. "I had a ghost-walking spell to be invisible, so Ayla wouldn't be able to ogle me. Fey saw me cast it and vanish, so she used her magic, and it tore my spell all apart so everyone, including Ayla, _could_ see me."

"No wonder you're upset with her. I would be too." She and pulled a book out of her backpack. "Do you mind if I study instead of talking? I've got a butt-load of history to read in case we have a quiz today."

I laughed. "Not at all. It'll give me a chance to visit my spirits in my dream world. I get the feeling that they want to talk to me anyway."

The high mountain forest was nowhere in sight, but I was in a lightly wooded area of elms, oaks, ash, and a few towering cottonwoods. I glanced around, wondering where Tatanka had brought me. I found a fallen tree to sit on while I waited for the white one to arrive.

It didn't take him long to show up. He seemed to be having fun running full-out; perhaps I'd have to spend time in outings with him so he could run more. Did spirits get restless for running?

"Greetings, Tatanka," I said as he slowed and halted beside me.

"Wihakayda," he acknowledged. "I have someone special for you to talk to today.

"Not Pahi again?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No." He ambled deeper into the cluster of trees, watching as a shadow darted from tree to tree around us. Finally, Tatanka stopped. "Enough with the games, Ithunkasan," he called out. "I have someone who needs to learn from you."

A weasel peeked from behind a tree trunk. "Of course, Tatanka," the small, sleek animal said as he darted to me. I felt a little nervous as he sniffed around my legs. He disappeared behind a tree trunk, only to emerge a split-second later from behind a neighboring tree. "What's your name?" he asked as he zipped in front of me.

"Kayda," I answered, trying to follow the hyperactive weasel as he dashed about.

Ithunkasan sat in front of me, and gestured for me to sit as well. "What important lessons should I teach her, Tatanka? Bravery? Stealth? Cunning? Agility?"

"How about hyperactivity?" I shot back. "Not that I really want to learn that."

Ithunkasan frowned at me. "What do you _think_ you need to learn?"

I thought a moment. "I don't know."

Tatanka lay down. "Kayda has problems fighting. She doesn't think she needs to know how to fight."

"Everyone needs to know how to fight," the weasel declared with a snort. "The world is a great struggle, and only those who know how to stand for themselves thrive."

"That sounds a little harsh," I commented, frowning. "The world isn't like that."

"Oh? How do you eat?" Before I could answer, he continued. "You find your prey and hunt it. Isn't hunting the same as fighting? And what if something attacks your lodge or tepee? What do you do then?"

I frowned; the clever little animal had cornered me with a carefully crafted, logical argument. "I ... I'd defend them."

"Which is fighting. So you _would_ fight. Good." He darted around behind me, scrambled up my back, and peered over my shoulder. "But that's not enough," he whispered in my ear.

I turned to look at him, but he'd darted off my shoulder back in front of me. "What do you mean, it's not enough?"

"To fight, you must fight to win. You must fight fiercely, as though your life depended on every claw and bite, because it _does_ depend on them." He smiled. "I live alone, and yet, even large predators leave me alone. And do you know why?" Before I could answer, he continued. "Because I am fierce! I fight with everything I have, and I am feared even by the bear and the wolf!" he said proudly.

I thought for a few moments. It sounded very much like what Sensei Tolman had been telling me only hours earlier. "But ... if you're outnumbered, or ..."

The weasel shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You fight fiercely, and even many enemies will respect you and run like frightened rabbits."

"But you talked of other gifts, like stealth and grace and agility."

The weasel smiled smugly. "In battle, one must be agile, to be able to move where your foes don't expect. You must be graceful and not clumsy. I am both, and it serves me well in combat, and so I thrive."

"And ... stealth?"

"Sometimes, there is prey which is quicker, and so one must be cunning to outwit them, and silent enough to sneak upon them to strike the first blow." He laughed. "You have much to learn about stealth," he said. "You lumber about like a great noisy cow."

"I'm not a cow!" I protested angrily.

The weasel laughed again. "Your motions are obvious. As you are now, you couldn't sneak up on a blade of grass!" I heard Tatanka chuckle softly at the weasel's comment, so I shot him a quick dirty look.

"So I must learn to be sneaky?"

"Stealthy. Sneaky implies devious or deceitful intentions. In all you do, you must use cunning. Did you use cunning when working with your teachers? No, you lumbered about like a cow. They knew what you were going to do even before you did, because your paths were obvious and poorly disguised." He darted back behind me and came up on my other shoulder. "If you knew what a foe was planning, would it surprise you?"

"No," I answered.

"And would you prepare to outwit his plan?" He ran down my front, rolled, and ended up sitting as he had been. "If you didn't know of his plan, outwitting the foe would be much more difficult."

"But ... I'm not battling against my teachers."

The weasel smiled. "No, but you match wits with the teachers, right? And so you must outwit them. And to do that, you must trust your instincts to guide you."

I frowned. It seemed so different from what Sensei had told me that morning, what Maka had told me the day before, and what I'd grown up learning.

"No time for further questions," he snapped. "I must run. I have to catch lunch, and there is a rabbit nearby." He scurried off, leaving me with Tatanka.

I started to rise, but Tatanka motioned for me to remain seated and silent.

The earth spirit showed us where Ithunkasan was sneaking up on a rabbit, which was distracted because it, in turn, was trying to elude a wolf. As we watched, the weasel leaped upon the rabbit, digging its teeth into the rabbit's neck, which resulted in the startled and now wounded rabbit thrashing about to try to dislodge the attacker. The commotion attracted the wolf, which savagely attacked the duo, focusing first on Ithunkasan, because it sensed the serious wound on the rabbit.

Ithunkasan may be been fierce, but the wolf was fighting to feed its pack, and so it overpowered Ithunkasan, who ended up retreating, licking its wounds.

Tatanka looked at me. "What did you learn from Ithunkasan's words?"

"That ... I must be fierce in attack? And outwit my opponents?"

"But what did you learn from his actions?"

I thought a moment. "He was rash and reckless, attacking when he shouldn't have."

"He was overconfident in his abilities, and that got him into trouble. Is own sense of how good he was and his instincts blinded him to thinking and being truly clever. He only thinks he was being clever. And all his stealth and grace and agility didn't help him win. They only helped him to escape with his life."

"Oh."

"Did you notice that Ithunkasan was alone?"

"Yes. I wondered about that."

"It's because he's so overconfident and reckless that he puts himself in danger, and thus puts those around him in danger, too, so that none want to be around him." He let me think a moment. "Is that what _you_ want, Wihakayda? To be alone because you are reckless?"

"No, of course not."

"Then you must think of your actions and act rationally rather than acting on instinct." He lumbered out of the woods back onto the open prairie, and, trotting, I followed and caught up to him.

"You have been rash with your teachers. You have been Ithukasan."

I stopped suddenly as his words hit me like a hammer. I _had_ been reckless in dealing with many others - not just my teachers, but my cottage-mates as well.

**********

English was tolerable, mostly because Ms. Seever ignored me, and I tried to paste on a smile, no matter how fake, and feign interest when she looked my way. I don't think I fooled her, but at least I didn't get another lecture. She asked me one question, which I answered, hopefully without any snark, and when class was over, she didn't bother glaring at me like she had the previous day. And maybe Fey had been right - having an easy class that I already knew cut down on my evening homework.

It still bothered me that I was stuck in English instead of being able to take a cool class like I'd wanted, but based on what I'd heard, the system seemed to be designed to keep _all_ students around for a full four years, mostly because their skill sets required additional time for them to learn to control and utilize. If the same applied to me, then I'd graduate with the Kimbas as well, even though I should graduate a year earlier. The one positive I found in that otherwise depressing thought was that I'd have opportunity to take some of the cool classes in engineering and mechanics.

Dr. Quintain's lecture was the usual afternoon sedative; since I was still catching up, I had plenty to read, so I avoided the nap that was a refuge from boredom for so many other students. Once class was over, I packed up my books to go to powers lab.

"Kayda," Dr. Quintain called to me as I was passing his desk on my way out of the classroom.

I stopped and turned to him. "Yes, sir?"

"Have you had any luck with your math difficulties?" He had a pleasant smile, as if he knew precisely what was going on.

I couldn't help but grin. "I took a math proficiency test this morning, for matrices, calculus, and trig."

"Good. I took the liberty of talking with Ms. Bell, and we called your high school and the School of Mines to get your actual transcripts faxed to us. Based on what we saw, you have as much need to be in high school math as Rembrandt would need to be in a kindergarten finger-painting class.

My cheeks felt a little warm as I blushed at the compliment. "I'd like a little free time, so I can finish Abstract Algebra and start on Finite Math."

"Ah, well, there's the rub. If you test as well as your informal transcripts say you should, then the math department will want you for a TA, but if you've got half the classwork and knowledge that you transcripts show, I really want you to work on our pattern mapping research project as a work-study job."

My eyes nearly bugged out at that; two departments recognized my math potential? That was far more than I'd expected.

"Think about it, okay?" Dr. Quintain asked.

"Yes, sir, I will!" I replied enthusiastically. "Thank you!" I was probably so exuberant that some of the other kids leaving the classroom were looking at me like I was maniacally insane.

When I walked into Power Lab, many of the students' conversations seemed to ebb, and I had the feeling that a lot of them were looking at me, but given my good mood, I didn't care.

"You look particularly 'appy today," Charge noticed when I sat down.

"Yeah," I practically sang happily. "Someone paid attention to my math transcripts, so it looks pretty certain that I'll get out of having to retake Algebra One."

"Oh? You 'ave taken algebra before?" She seemed both interested and envious at the same time.

I couldn't help smiling. "When I was in fourth grade. I've been taking college-level math as independent study for a few years."

Charge - Adalie - actually frowned at that comment. "It must be nice to 'ave math come to you so easily."

I winced at that; it was pretty clear from her tone that she didn't have an easy time in math. "Well, there are other classes that are hard, like magic and French," I countered.

"Non," she said, shaking her head. "Français is very easy. It is not confusing and difficult like English! Bah! I don't understand why English is so emphasized in the world!"

I really had a snappy comeback, about how _we_ won World War 2 against the Germans and Japanese, whereas France lost in the first round. I bit my tongue, though - for once. I didn't want to annoy someone who would hopefully be helping me learn aikido. "The teacher is late, isn't she?"

"Oui," Adalie agreed. "I have a question, if you don't mind me asking."

I was a bit confused. Yesterday, she had acted like I was a typical American that she held in contempt. Today, though, she was being at least cordial. "It depends on the question."

"What 'appened today when you were sparring?" She wasn't exactly subtle or tactful.

I sighed; I hoped to avoid those types of questions, because knowledge of my PTSD and how it could cripple me in a fight was a threat to me. If someone with ill intent triggered an episode, I would be totally helpless, and quite possibly dead. Still, if I was going to deal with Charge in martial arts, power theory, and power lab, I was probably going to have to learn to trust her, and others. That brought a quick scowl; Fey and Ayla were apparently among those not to be trusted. I erased that thought so Adalie didn't think I was angry at her question, though.

"Just after I manifested," I explained carefully, fighting back the emotional distress that always seemed to be just below the surface, "my friends tried to kill me. Twice." I felt my hands trembling at the disturbing memories. "I was pretty badly beaten both times, almost to death."

"Mon dieu!" Adalie said softly. "I thought it was bad that my friends just rejected me. My ... best friend ... she hates me just because I am a mutant," she said bitterly. "Even after I saved her life."

The teacher chose that moment to enter, interrupting our conversation. I puzzled through the rest of the lab; Adalie had been a total snob, but now she seemed to be cordial. I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps she'd reacted negatively to my own emotional state, and since I was pretty happy, she felt like she could converse without fear of me being nasty.

After class, Bunny came by to escort me to electronics lab. She was eyeing me cautiously as we walked; Evvie had informed me that Fey and Bunny were ... close. Very close. And she was an associate member (if there were such a thing) of Team Kimba, being well-known for supplying them with devises and gadgets.

Once we got in the tunnels, Bunny asked, "What's going on, Kayda?"

I'd expected such a question. If she was the equipment supplier to TK, then she was on Ayla's payroll as well. "What do you mean?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"Fey and Ayla seem kind of upset, and your name has come up a few time," she explained, a frown wrinkling her otherwise perfect face. With her blonde hair in long pigtails, and her curves and perky disposition, she could have easily been mistaken for an air-head.

I shrugged. "Nothing really." I decided to turn the tables. "Why? What has Fey said about me?"

"Is it true that your spirit and hers know each other?" Bunny wasn't so easily tricked into revealing information about Fey and Ayla.

"How about if we just drop it, huh?" I asked when I realized I wasn't going to get any information from her, just like she wasn't getting anything from me.

"There _is_ something going on, isn't there?"

"Just drop it, okay?" I said, a lot more tersely than I should have. I was getting more than a little upset that Fey and Ayla were snooping to try to figure out what was bothering me; all they had to do was look in mirrors.

The rest of the walk to class was pretty quiet; I didn't want to be grilled about why I was upset at Fey's actions, and Bunny, who was very close to Fey, didn't want to tell me anything that she wasn't sure if Fey or Ayla would approve of me knowing. The last thing she said to me, warily, I might add, was that Delta Spike would be by to escort me back to Poe after class.

Class was good; I was rapidly getting caught up, to the point that I figured that within two more class periods, I'd be doing current work - assuming, of course, that I got my labs done. The labs themselves weren't difficult, just tedious. Despite that, I got data collected from two labs, and I just had to do the formal write-up to be done with them. I could do that back in my room.

One thing that bugged me was that we were doing very simple circuits the old-fashioned way with a lot of discrete components, including transistors, when most integrated circuits had millions and millions of circuits crammed into them. When one student complained, Ms. Merenis patiently interrupted everyone's independent study to repeat and then answer the question - how were we going to design integrated circuits if we didn't understand what components were required for each circuit? I smiled to myself; that was exactly what Dad had taught me about everything on the farm - if I didn't understand the simple things, how would I ever understand the complex things made from them?

After class, I could tell that Delwin was hoping to escort me back to Poe, but he was also very nervous about what had happened the previous day. He chatted away about class to help me pass the time while I waited for Delta Spike; I think he thought that he was being subtle, but it was painfully evident that he was just hanging around to talk to me, wondering if he'd have to escort me again, and a little terrified of that possibility.

Delta Spike was a few minutes late, for which she was apologetic, because she'd been working in her lab. Since Delwin was a devisor and gadgeteer, that led to them starting to talk, with her talking about galvanomorphs, while Delwin prattled on about building integrated circuits with multistate logic that were more like neural networks than traditional computer chips. I seemed a little forgotten as the two delved deeply into their own respective areas of interest, each trying to convince the other that their ideas were superior and would be the next great breakthrough. It was only when I interrupted Delta Spike to let her know that my destination was Schuster Hall instead of Poe that she even seemed to recall that I was there.

Dr. Bellows asked, of course, how my day went; I was guessing that he could read my expression enough to know that I was much happier than I'd been the day before. So I explained the math test, and Dr. Quintain's interest in me doing work-study for him. He was pleased that my attitude was much improved, and so was I.

"How was martial arts?" he asked. Based on his expression, he probably already knew the answer.

"It sucked."

"Oh? Why was it bad?"

"Mrs. Hawkins called Mom when I stopped by her office, and Mom was pretty adamant that I was going to take martial arts, even if I don't want to." I snorted at that. "Debra told her that Ito was a great instructor, and she wants me in his class."

"I take it you don't agree?"

"Not if your definition of greatness includes insulting and demeaning students, making them feel like crap, and then excluding them from everything," I answered, my good mood having vanished at the reminder of my martial arts classes. "The other girls in the locker room were all talking about me, and I didn't want to go out to class."

"But you decided to?" he asked.

"Tolman or Ito probably told you, didn't they?"

"I asked Sensei Tolman to keep me informed," Dr. Bellows admitted.

"Great. Now my teachers are all spying on me, too," I huffed, crossing my arms angrily and slumping back onto the couch.

"Kayda," Dr. Bellows chided me softly, "you've had three PTSD events, one of which was in martial arts this morning. It's _very_ important that I know so I can help you overcome whatever triggers the events. But I assure you that I do _not_ tell anyone what you and I discuss."

I shook my head, lowering my gaze. "I'm such a fucking mess," I muttered unhappily.

"Kayda, you're making progress. I never promised that it would be fast or easy, only that I'd help you overcome those events."

"Yeah, I suppose," I muttered.

"What happened today in martial arts?"

"Ms. Tolman made me go out to the mats, and then I had to spar so she could evaluate what I knew and didn't know. I ... I had to fight ... and ... and I got beat up ... pretty badly." I was shaking again, and my eyes were moist.

"And that's when you collapsed?"

I simply nodded. "Ms. Tolman talked with me in the locker room to see what happened."

"But you went back out to keep trying?"

I simply nodded.

"As far as Senseis Ito and Tolman are concerned, you're kind of a 'special needs' student in their class. They know of your background and your PTSD, so they'll try to help you."

I nodded. "Okay."

"But you _will_ have to fight. That's the whole point of martial arts - learning to fight and to defend yourself. I'll work with your instructors to help you learn to cope so you can stay focused while you're fighting." He scratched his chin for a moment, looking thoughtful. "You didn't have any problems with PTSD when you were fighting the snake demon, did you? Or the water panther?"

"Uh, no," I said, realizing that he was right - I hadn't panicked in those battles. "But ... I had to save Debra," I said about the first fight, "and I didn't have time ...."

Dr. Bellows smiled. "I'm just pointing out that you _can_ fight if you have to."

"Oh. Okay."

"Is there anything else on your mind, or do you need to get to your homework?"

"Uh, I ... I don't think so," I stammered unconvincingly.

"You don't sound sure of yourself."

I looked down. "Uh, maybe. I'm ... having some troubles ... with some people in my cottage."

"And what are the problems?"

"Um, one girl's magic and her spirit are messing with my privacy and stuff."

"Would that be Fey?" he interrupted.

I nodded, and then told him about Aunghadhail's dream intrusion, followed by Nikki's reaction and how she didn't even care, and about my ghost-walking spell that Nikki tore apart, allowing Ayla to see me nude. And I pointed out that Nikki didn't even act like she'd done something wrong. The more I talked, the more I recalled how Ayla and Nikki had acted toward me since the first incident, and the more upset I got.

"Have you talked to either of them?" Dr. Bellows asked.

I frowned. "After the way they were acting like they weren't wrong, I don't want anything to do with them."

"So you didn't give either of them a chance to apologize, did you?"

"Are you saying that it's my fault?" I asked, suddenly defensive.

"No, I'm not saying that," Dr. Bellows countered very quickly. "But is it possible that you're so upset that you're not giving them a chance to apologize, and because they can't, you end up assuming that they don't want to apologize, or don't care if they do?"

I started to answer, but hesitated. Ayla had tried to talk to me in the caf, and had invited me upstairs to talk with him and Fey, and both had tried knocking on my door in Poe. "Um, maybe," I answered, feeling a little uncertain. Maybe they _had_ wanted to apologize. On the other hand, though, they might have wanted to further blame me for what they'd done.

"Is it possible that Fey was too surprised and embarrassed to apologize at first?" Dr. Bellows asked. I couldn't answer, because I hadn't considered that angle.

**********

Poe Cottage

On my way from the bathroom back to my room, I saw Fey going into her room. Immediately, I thought of what Dr. Bellows had said; she might have been embarrassed and not known how to apologize. I tried to force myself to call out to her, or to walk to her door to knock, but I couldn't. I was too frightened that she wouldn't recognize that she'd done something wrong, or wouldn't apologize.

I walked back to my room, leaning against the door after closing it. I should give her a chance, I knew, but I just couldn't forget the danger she'd brought to Debra and the humiliation she'd caused me in the bathroom.

The fire in the fire pit was comforting, as was the tea that I was drinking with Wakan Tanka. My dream-world was my refuge, and I really needed the peace I found there. "Wakan Tanka," I began after a sip, "am I wrong to fear the Sidhe queen?"

"No, Wihakayda," my spirit answered me quickly. No doubt she'd been thinking of that very subject. "You are right to be cautious. I cannot tell which of her actions are from an impetuous girl and which are from the Sidhe."

"Aren't they the same?" I asked, puzzled by her statement. "Like you and I?"

Wakan Tanka shook her head, a thin smile on her lips. "She and the queen are more like you and I than you and Ptesanwi," she said.

"I don't understand."

"You and Ptesanwi are one. She is a part of you. But you and I are not, except when you merge with me into the manifestation of Ptesanwi. The difference is that the Sidhe queen is independent of the girl, whereas I cannot act without your knowledge and permission," she explained.

"So ... maybe Nikki isn't to blame for the dream walk?"

"No. But she _is_ responsible for shattering your spell." She took a long, slow sip of her tea. "You should listen to the counselor," she continued. "You haven't given either of them a chance to apologize, have you?"

"So you think I'm wrong, too?" That was all I needed - a spirit in my head that was blaming me for things like what had happened.

"You should talk to her. If she does regret what happened, you have to give her a chance to apologize."

I snapped myself out of my dream world, back to reality. Having Wakan Tanka ask the same question as Dr. Bellows was sapping my determination. _Was_ I shutting them out? Maybe I was being too reactionary because I'd been hurt so badly in the past by people who'd been friends, that I didn't want to give Ayla and Fey a chance to hurt me. I just knew, at that moment, that more emotional pain wasn't something I could handle.

Hearing no-one in the hall, I walked down the hall and down the staircase. One place that was mostly unused was the cottage library, so I slipped in and found a corner to sit and think.

Tatanka nudged my shoulder to get my attention, sitting as I was on a prairie hill, looking out over a seemingly-endless ocean of waving grass. "Wihakayda?" he asked, curious why I had allowed him to get so close without reacting.

"Yes, Tatanka?" I said without turning to him.

"You have something on your mind."

"No kidding!" I drew in a deep breath of the clean, cool early spring air.

"Perhaps instead of sitting here, it would be better to complete your lesson. Some of what Ptan has to teach might help you with your current problem."

I turned and stared at the big white spirit. "Maybe." I clambered to my feet.

Instantly, we were at a river bank. "What do you see?" Tatanka asked me.

I looked over the river, and immediately saw an animal floating playfully in the river on its back. As soon as it saw Tatanka, it did a graceful flip and disappeared under the water, surfacing in a powerful leap out of the water onto the riverbank. I was puzzled, but only for a moment; river otters had long since vanished from South Dakota lands, but had once been very common.

"Greetings, mighty Tatanka," the otter said as it darted among Tatanka's legs like they were an obstacle course or maze. The otter stopped in front of me, rose on its hind legs to peer at me, and then darted around me, pausing to take quick sniffs before circling again. I could have gotten dizzy trying to watch the critter.

"How is the fishing today, Ptan?" Tatanka asked him.

"I was fishing this morning," the otter answered. "Now is my time to relax." She looked at me from head to toe and back. "Who is this young maiden? Have you brought her here so I would have someone to frolic and play with?"

Tatanka smiled. "This is Wihakayda, the emissary of Wakan Tanka. And that _might_ not be a bad idea."

The name of my benefactor was not lost on Ptan; her eyes widened, and then she bowed deeply. "It is an honor, Wihakayda. What can I do for you?"

Tatanka spoke before I could. "Wihakayda is young, and she is still learning much. I am introducing her to animal spirits to teach her about the world."

Ptan looked at me again. "As usual, Tatanka, you are wise. But what can I teach the Ptesanwi? I am just a humble little otter." She winked to me, suggesting that she was pulling Tatanka's leg. She seemed a lot less serious than some of the other spirits that I'd met.

"Kayda talked with your cousin Ithunkasan this morning," Tatanka said, "and as usual, he was overly dramatic."

Ptan rolled her eyes. "And what trouble was that little imp creating?"

I chuckled. "He got cocky trying to steal prey from a wolf, and he got his butt kicked."

"He is always so serious, looking for fights when he doesn't need to," Ptan said, shaking her head. "And what did you learn from him?"

"He told me that I had to be fierce, as well as agile and stealthy, to survive in the constant battle that is life," I answered, hesitating because she seemed to have a low opinion of her cousin.

"My brother Ithunkasan has no time to play, and so he cannot relax," Ptan said with a sad expression.

Suddenly, Ptan perked up, tilting her head from side to side. "Just a moment," she said before sliding back into the water with a splash. A few seconds later she surfaced, and then a much smaller head surfaced beside her. She climbed gracefully back up the river bank, followed by the other otter. "Forgive the interruption, Ptesanwi," Ptan apologized. "My pup was getting himself into trouble by being a little too curious." She shook her head. "It seems that the job of a mother is never done."

I looked at Tatanka. "Why have you brought me to Ptan? There's something you're not telling me," I added with mock menace in my voice.

"What makes you think I'm hiding something from you?"

Ptan shook her head, making an odd grunting whistle that sounded like disapproval. "So serious," she observed. She indicated that I should sit, which I did, and then she practically pushed her pup into my lap.

The little otter, though wet, was quite affectionate - right up until he stuck his nose inquisitively down the front of my dress. "Hey!" I shouted angrily, pulling him from my cleavage.

"He is a pup, and he is curious," Ptan said. I thought I saw Tatanka smirking.

"Well, I guess ...." I gave him a hug, and he wiggled out of my arms and ran over my shoulder and down my back, then circled me to plop in my lap, looking up at me with innocent eyes, as if he'd done nothing.

"You see - already my pup has learned balance. He plays, but he also works when he needs to." She shook her head. "I think that you have no balance. You seem too serious, like Ithunkasan."

"I'm not that bad," I protested, and on hearing a snort from Tatanka, I paused. "Am I?"

"When was the last time you laughed?" Ptan asked.

"I ...." I had to stop, because I honestly couldn't remember the last timethat I'd had a good, playful time with laughter and relaxation. "I guess it's been a while," I admitted.

"Why?"

"Because of all the serious things that are happening to me!" I countered. "I changed, got my spirits, was assaulted, had to flee my home ...." I shook my head. "Many, many things."

"The last time I saw you laugh was with Debra," Tatanka stated.

"You have no balance. That is why you aren't enjoying life," Ptan said. "And when you talk of others, you seem wary, instead of caring and nurturing of friendships and relationships." Ptan sat in front of me as her pup played ring-around-the-rosie with my torso, tugging on my long braids as if they were ropes to swing from. "Why do your problems take all your focus?"

I glanced at Tatanka, as if I thought Ptan was nuts. "I ... I have to solve them."

Ptan nodded. "This is true. But sometimes, when you worry too much and don't relax, you lose perspective of the problems. Some problems can be ignored for a while, and some will solve themselves if you do nothing. Sometimes, taking time to play gives your mind a rest, and the solutions appear more easily."

"That ... that's hard to do - to ignore problems."

Ptan laughed. "There's a difference between ignoring a problem and keeping a problem in perspective. Look at my pup and me. When we swim, do we allow the waves and currents to carry us where _they_ go?"

"The way you phrased that, I'm going to guess the answer is no."

"Do we fight the waves and currents to get to where we seek to go?"

"Uh, yeah," I answered hesitantly.

Ptan shook her head. "No. We balance things. We use the currents and waves to help us get to where _we_ want to go, and we enjoy the journey more than if we fought them. By doing this, the journey can even be fun, a time to play and relax a little. And even if there is no time to play on the journey, by not fighting the water constantly, we arrive with time and energy so that we can _then_ play."

"But ... I don't have time to play!" I protested.

"Nonsense!" Ptan countered immediately. "Everyone has time to play - if they keep their lives in balance." She stood and grasped the hem of my dress. "Come. If you have forgotten how to play, my pup and I will remind you."

I allowed Ptan and her pup to tug me to the river bank, where the pup used a muddy slide to slip down and splash playfully in the water. He dove, and came up, rolling over and over in the water before clambering back up the bank. "Come on," the pup said eagerly.

I looked at Tatanka, horror-stricken. These two animal spirit wanted me to play with them? In the water?

"Go on, Wihakayda," Tatanka said. "Let Ptan remind you how to play. I will stand guard."

I eventually allowed the three animals to convince me, and after stripping from my buckskin dress and mocs, I sat down on the muddy slope and slid into the cool water with a big splash. The pup was right behind me, and as I sputtered to clear the water from my face, he swam in front of me playfully, tagging my cheek before diving away, only to surface a few feet away and looking like he was laughing at me.

We played water tag. We slid down the bank over and over. I was so distracted by the fun of swimming with Ptan and her pup that I even forgot that I was skinny-dipping. Eventually, though, Tatanka told me that I had to go back to my real world.

As the white buffalo and I walked away from the river bank, water dripping from my hair, Tatanka smiled at me. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," I answered without thinking. "Ptan is fun to be with."

Tatanka chuckled. "It wasn't Ptan that was making the fun. It was you letting go of your concerns long enough to relax. Who would you rather be like - Ithunkasan, or Ptan?"

"Ptan," I answered without thinking. "Ithunkasan is too serious, and too arrogant."

"Did you notice how caring and nurturing Ptan was to her pup?"

I nodded. "She was a lot nicer to be around than Ithunkasan."

"You need to learn to be caring and nurturing like Ptan, Wihakayda."

I stopped mid-stride at the implication of his words, a look of horror on my face. "You're not trying to say that ... that I ...."

It took Tatanka second to realize what I was thinking. "Oh, no, Wihakayda!" he said, shocked at how I'd misinterpreted his words. "No, no, no! You have too much to learn before you can have your own to nurture and care for!"

I sighed with relief. "Good. Because I'm not ready to be a mother. Not for a long time. If ever!"

"But if you learn the lesson of Ptan," Tatanka added softly, "you'll eventually be a good one."

**********

Dinner was much better, mostly because I think the play had helped my attitude. French was even tolerable, and several people made note of my smile and friendlier disposition. I was quick to use the bathroom, because even though I was in a better mood, I still didn't know how to deal with Ayla or Fey. And after I got back from French, Jade came by to see Tatanka again - and to lobby me to join Wondercute.

I spent over an hour on the phone with Debra, and she was quite pleased that I was actually trying in martial arts instead of sulking about how much the class sucked. She was also very happy for me that I'd had a placement test for math, and might be getting out of having to retake algebra one. With her cheery disposition, and the things that had happened during the day, I went to bed feeling like maybe Whateley could be a tolerable place, perhaps even enjoyable - if my classes got straightened out and if my cottage-mates quit being stuck-up bitches.

Debra added to what Dr. Bellows and Wakan Tanka had said - that maybe I was over-reacting to innocent mistakes, and that I wasn't giving them a chance to apologize. Debra was a lot more subtle about it, though, because she knew from dream-walking with me just how much I was upset by what Fey had done and how Ayla was acting.

One point Debra suggested was that Fey and possibly Aunghadhail hadn't realized just how dangerous a spirit attack could be, because they might have their own natural defenses and had never been subject to an attack. Once again, I had to derail that train of conversation, because it seemed to imply that I was at fault.

Debra was as curious as I was about Jade and Wondercute, especially the intensely-fearful reaction it got from others when it was even mentioned. I mentioned the two animal spirits I'd met, and Debra asked if sometime she could meet Ptan, because she thought otters were cute and playful creatures, and because I think she was also a little jealous that I'd been skinny-dipping without her. Naturally that led to dream-walking with Debra, where we went to the river and played in the water and muddy slide with Ptan and her pup. After a few hours of play, still giggling from our frolicking, we went back to the tepee village to rest and cuddle.

**********

South Dakota

The second son of Unhcegila waited for twilight. Like his brother, he'd shed his stone outer shell, and now was vulnerable to sunlight, so he had to move at night to avoid the burning rays. Unlike his brother, he kept his instincts in check and maintained stealth, moving carefully and slowly, pausing to feed only when he could avoid detection. He had many miles to travel to find the object of his quest, the sacred sphere which his father had directed that he find and bring to him.

It should be easy, he reasoned - he would follow the vast herds of bison, because where the bison were found, the People would be hunting them. On his first day, he had found a herd, but it was a tiny group of animals, and try as he might, he could find none of the People or their dwellings in the area. Surely the People wouldn't bother hunting this small of a herd; there weren't enough buffalo to support a tribe for more than a few weeks. The snake-demon had no way of knowing that he was searching Custer State Park for Lakota people who hadn't lived on those lands for well over a century.

Puzzled, the snake demon traveled through Paha Sapa, the Black Hills, to the edge of the prairie, to where the buffalo roamed more freely, and in larger numbers. Still, he could detect none of the herds, finding instead only some clusters of scrawny, distant relatives of the great bison. Surely these animals would be useful to the People, even if not as useful as the mighty Tatankas.

Hunger was overtaking the snake-demon, so he crept upon one of the cattle, who seemed to sense the evil presence. A quick strike felled one of the beasts, and the demon feasted. The instinct to feed overwhelmed his rational, thinking self, and he attacked another, and then a third cow, leaving behind piles of bones where the cattle had stood.

Sated, the snake demon crept toward a strange dwelling, a structure made of wood instead of buffalo hides, and set permanently in place. The creature paused, considering. Eons ago, when the creature's father, Unhcegila, had come on his great migration to Paha Sapa, he had passed People who dwelt in fixed structures, longhouses made of poles and planks of trees, in which many, many families dwelt. Was this one of those dwellings? If so, that would mean that the People had been displaced by those tribes from the East. That would seem reasonable; if the buffalo had moved from the prairie, the People would have followed them, leaving empty space for the eastern tribes to move in. But if that had happened, finding the sacred sphere was going to be much more difficult than the father had assumed.

The snake creature thought as it hid in a larger mostly-empty outbuilding. It sensed only a few humans, not the dozens which should have lived in the building if this _was_ an eastern tribe. And the scents and odors of the place bore no resemblance to any of the tools and clothing of any of the People, Lakota or not.

As dusk arrived, the snake decided to move to find more clues. It found a hard path that retained the heat of the day, feeding energy to the creature so it moved more quickly. It would circle Paha Sapa, looking for anyone who smelled like any of the People, and it would feed on their knowledge so that it could gather clues as to the whereabouts of the Lakota, and thus, the sacred sphere that was supposed to be in their possession.

Well after midnight, a rancher and his wife, an older couple whose children had grown, drove in an older pickup truck northward along highway 79, near the edge of the Black Hills. It was far later than they'd have preferred to travel, but problems with some machinery at their ranch had taken far longer to repair than they'd anticipated, and with their children waiting in Rapid City so the extended family could catch an early-morning flight, the couple had no choice but to drive well into the night.

As the pickup crested a small hill, the man driving frowned, looking down. He saw something ahead, but it made no sense to him. All of the light from the truck's headlights seemed to be swallowed up in a coal-black something on the road. Too late, the man slammed on the brakes. The pickup's tires screeched on the asphalt, until the pickup impacted the inky body of the snake demon.

The snake demon roared in agony from the crushing impact as the front-end of the truck crumpled into a twisted mass of sheet metal. Since the passenger's side impacted first due to the way the snake had been moving on the road, the truck was thrown into a wild skid to the left, and when the tires bit into the grass of the soft shoulder, the momentum of the careening pickup caused it to flip and roll.

The man was fortunate; he was killed when the cab of the pickup caved in and crushed his shoulder and skull. His wife, though, was spared death because the cab over her head was far less mangled. Battered and bruised, she fought waves of pain, nausea, and unconsciousness. In a short fit of lucidness, she tried to find her purse, to get her cell phone to call for help; at that late hour, there would be few travelers on the road, and help might take hours. Alas, the purse had been tossed randomly in the cab at the impact, and injured as she was, hanging from straps since the pickup lay on its left side, she had no chance of locating or reaching the purse, even if there had been enough light to see it.

The woman sensed something, a presence that didn't seem right. She looked around from trying to see through the shattered, nearly opaque remains of the windshield, held together only by a plastic film that all safety glass had. She saw nothing, but the presence seemed closer. Dangling from her seat belt and shoulder harness, she looked up toward the sky, toward something that had caught her attention, something which had blotted out even the faint moonlight that had been streaming through the passenger window. The scream which escaped her lips was the last sane sound the woman would ever make.

The creature paused to consider the mind he'd consumed and the knowledge it contained. The times of the tribes in vast tepee villages, roaming the plains after the innumerable bison, those times were done. Though she hadn't excelled in history, the old woman's mind contained enough facts to cause bewilderment to the snake demon. The People lived on things called reservations, no longer chasing the herds? Had they forgotten all their ways, and now dwelt like sheep, passive, heartless, lacking in the skills and courage that had once defined them as a mighty People? And if that were true, had they forgotten or lost the precious artifacts - the sacred bundle of the white buffalo calf woman, the texts painted on the pelts, and most importantly, the sacred sphere, the rough, oblong ball that the father creature desired?

The more he thought, the more troubled the snake demon became. He had to know more. To do that, he had to find one of the People, who would hopefully know more about the location of the tribes. The snake demon began to move north, because the woman's knowledge said that there was a vast village to the north, someplace called Rapid City, and where there were human beings, surely some of the People could be found. Even luckier, the village was near. He might be able to get some answers before he had to hide from the light.

Cecilia Running Waters woke when her dog, fenced in the backyard of the duplex in which she lived, began to bark furiously. She was about to open a window to yell at her dog, to tell it to be quiet, when its barking quit in an agonizing howl, followed by silence broken only by the distant sound of cars driving along St. Patrick street. Concerned for her beloved dog, Cecilia pulled on a robe and slid her feet into her slippers, then darted to the back door, unchaining and unlocking it swiftly. Pausing to grab a flashlight that she kept near the back door, she opened the door, shining the light into the darkness of her yard.

She screamed when her flashlight illuminated a few pieces of her dog, bloodied and rent as if by a chainsaw. She didn't see the creature until it was too late.

**********

Thursday, March 22, 2007
Poe Cottage

I'd hoped to avoid bumping into Ayla or Fey this morning, but the fates conspired against me. No sooner had I wrapped my robe around myself than Ayla walked into the bathroom. "Morning, Kayda," he said cautiously.

"Uhnnn," I grumbled, at least acknowledging his presence and greeting, even if I didn't want to reply.

"Are you having any luck with your classes?" Ayla asked, trying to force some kind of conversation. "Mrs. Hawkins owes me a few favors ...."

"No thank you," I said flatly.

"It wouldn't be any trouble," Ayla continued trying to be civil.

That's all I needed - to owe Ayla and his kind favors. "I said, no thank you," I repeated, a little more forcefully. With that, I stomped out of the bathroom, knowing that Bunny, Rip, Pilar, and a few others were gawking at me, slack-jawed and confused. I didn't particularly care if Ayla's friends and flunkies didn't like me.

When I came into our room, Evvie was getting slipping into her robe so she could shower. She read my facial expression pretty clearly. "Ayla again? Or Fey?"

"Ayla." I plopped my butt down on my bed. "He's _offering_ to help with my class schedule," I said angrily.

"What's wrong with that?" Evvie asked, pausing and not realizing that her robe was hanging open. Damn, but she was a very nice looking girl. I didn't know if I'd ever tire of seeing the girls in Poe.

"Like I want to end up owing him favors! That's all I'd need - having him call in favors to protect his sorry ass by being on his training team!"

Evvie stared at me a moment, and then she laughed aloud, which made me frown. "You don't know much about Team Kimba, do you?" she chuckled.

"No. All I need to know is that it's Ayla's team, and he probably coerced the others onto the team to protect himself."

"Hardly," Evvie said, smiling. "Last fall, there were seven changelings like you who showed up on the first day. Jade, Nikki, Toni, Hank, Ayla, Billie, and Jinn. Well, technically Jinn is Jade's dead sister, so only six showed up, but, well, since they were all changelings, they kind of bonded socially to look out for each other, and they decided to make a training team. It's no more Ayla's team than anyone else's." She chuckled. "As if a Goodkind would have a team named Team Kimba!"

"Oh." I wasn't quite sure I believed the story, but I wasn't going to argue too much.

"Now, promise me you'll wait this time?" Evvie said with a 'stern mother' look.

"Okay, I'll wait." That didn't assuage her; she still had the frown and crossed arms. "I promise," I added quickly, raising my arm up in a Boy Scout sign, which made her laugh.

I used the time to work on catching up in my classes. At least I didn't have algebra any longer, which left me a free first period. I would have worried what I was going to do with my free time, especially since Rosalyn would probably find me and use the opportunity to tease me and try to persuade me to go to the hot-tub party, but I'd had a note in my mailbox the previous evening which said that instead of going to math, I should go to see Dr. Bellows first thing. I was more than a little concerned about that, because I'd been caught by security without an escort twice the day before. And despite working things out with Sensei Tolman, I had been an ass at the start of BMA, and not exactly friendly or outgoing in either magic or English. And I knew that my teachers were reporting my ... conduct ... to Dr. B.

Breakfastwent mostly okay, except that I noticed a few guys staring at me with what I knew were lustful, or at least very appreciative, looks. I shuddered inwardly, and found myself fighting my demons as I tried not to over-react. Evvie and Laurie must have noticed, because they both hugged me tightly until I'd calmed down enough that I didn't fear another PTSD episode.

For the third morning in a row, Rosalyn was my 'escort'. "You again?" I asked warily. "Are you stalking me?"

"Maybe," Rosalyn said, smiling coyly. "Or maybe I'm haunting you."

"No, I'm not coming to the hot-tub party."

"Even if I have a surprise for you?" she asked, grinning broadly.

"Especially not if you have a surprise," I countered strongly. "Knowing you, it'd be some kind of Roman orgy or something."

"Nah," she giggled, "but that's not a bad idea! You don't mind if we use it, do you?"

"Ooohhh! You're impossible!"

Rosalyn grasped my hand, which made me a touch uncomfortable. "No, I'm _very_ possible," she purred seductively. "All you have to do is say 'yes' to find that out." She laughed at my discomfort.

"I'm tempted to let you dream-walk with me, just so you can see that I know what I'm doing, and that your tutorials aren't needed!"

"Oooh, some girl-on-girl action! That sounds like one of my fondest dreams! The only thing better would be a three-way." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I sighed, shaking my head. "I see that I'm going to have to play matchmaker and find you a steady girlfriend so you leave me alone."

Rosalyn giggled. "You're assuming that one girl can keep me satisfied."

Fortunately, we arrived at Dr. Bellows' office, and I escaped her teasing. As I watched her walk off, pausing to blow a kiss over her shoulder, and then swaying her hips in an exaggerated, sexy manner, I couldn't help but wonder, at least for a moment, what it would be like to accept her rather blatant invitation. But Debra would be disappointed, so I banished the thought.

"Good morning, Kayda," Dr. Bellows said, sounding friendly and not at all upset as I'd feared. "Have a seat." He gestured to a chair in front of his desk, which was a huge change from his normal counseling sessions where we sat in the casual, overstuffed furniture.

"Um, okay," I said as I sat warily, wondering what was going on.

Dr. Bellows must have read my anxiety in my voice. "Oh, don't worry. You aren't in trouble. We just have a few details to work out, and I'll need to use my computer." He looked at the screen. "Now, technically Charlie Lodgeman should be doing this, since he's been assigned as your academic advisor. But since he's still on travel, he asked me to get some changes made pronto, and he'll meet with you when he gets back, hopefully this afternoon."

"Uh, who made the request for me to change advisors?" I asked cautiously. Heaven forbid that it was the Goodkind using his connections. I didn't want to owe him squat.

"That's an administrative matter," he said, "so you don't need to worry. Now, according to Ms. Bell, you will no longer be taking Algebra 1, so that frees up your first period. And I've got your transcripts into the system, so you will not be in English I in fourth period."

I could hardly believe my ears. I sat, dumbfounded, my jaw hanging open. "But ... what happened?" I stammered.

"Errors tend to get worked out - eventually. So we can move you to fourth period electronics, and ...."

"No, I like having independent study for electronics. Can we move French?"

"I can put you in French in first period."

"What about Avatars?" I asked. "Mr. Lodgeman and Ms. Grimes both think it's important for me to take Avatars."

Dr. Bellows fiddled with his keyboard. "Hmmm," he muttered to himself. "The only way to work this is to put you in Avatars in first period, but the only French is in fifth period." He fiddled some more. "Since you're in the magic track, you don't really need power theory or power lab, so if we drop those ...."

"Power lab is kind of cool," I found myself saying, much to my surprise. "If ... if I'm going to have to do the combat stuff and martial arts, then probably the lab would be helpful to know how the other ... powers ... can be used for fighting."

Dr. Bellows looked at me, surprised, and then a smile crept over his features. "That makes sense. I'll check with Dr. Quintain to see if you can keep power lab without power theory."

"He'll probably make me do work-study for him in exchange," I said glumly. "As if I have time for that."

"Dropping two classes would get you back to seven, so it might be possible to move your costume class to ...." He looked at the schedules. "We can do French in fifth period, but there's no costume class in fourth, and the only Avatars section this term is first." He shook his head. "Martial Arts is stuck in second period, and intro to magic is stuck in third period, so it looks like you'll have to keep the costume class on Saturdays."

"That's better than what I had," I said. Inwardly, I was feeling elated that something was going right with my schedule, but there was a nagging fear that something was going to screw up all these plans, and at the last minute. "That's ... that sounds good."

Dr. Bellows laughed. "But?"

I gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Every time it seems like something is going right, something gets messed up at the end. I ... I don't want to get my hopes up."

With a smile, Dr. Bellows hit a key on his keyboard. "There. It's final, assuming, of course, that Dr. Quintain will let you do power theory as independent study. No-one can screw it up now without approval from Mrs. Carson." He turned back to face me. "Now, since your power lab is only two days a week, let's talk about Ms. Bell and Dr. Quintain's requests for your work-study time."

Oh, oh. Here came the bad part.

"After seeing your transcripts, Ms. Bell was pretty adamant that you work as a teaching assistant in the math department. At the same time, Dr. Quintain really wants you to work with his team on the pattern problem. He's even offered to set up a college credit independent study class with you for this work."

I let my head loll back until I was staring at the ceiling. "Oh, crap! First, I had bad classes. Now I've got a good class schedule, but the instructors who helped make this happen are both hoping to take away any spare time I might have gained!"

Dr. Bellows laughed. "Do you like teaching?"

"Huh?"

"Do you like teaching and tutoring?" he repeated.

"Well, yeah," I said.

"You could try both, you know."

"What?" I was dumbfounded. "I ... I just got a sane schedule, and now you're suggesting that I do two jobs as well? That'll be crazier than ... than what I _had_!"

"Maybe not. Powers lab is only two days a week, right? And your fourth period is now free, which means that you have time to work with Dr. Quintain, and to also spend time as a TA in fourth period or after your electronics class. You'll get college credit working with Dr. Quintain, too."

"I guess," I answered only somewhat enthusiastically.

"The head of the math department would like to see you as soon as we get done. So if you don't have any more questions about your new and improved class schedule, we're done - for now. Of course, you realize that this isn't a substitute for your after-class sessions, don't you?"

"I was afraid you were going to say that," I grumbled, or at least pretended to. The smile gave me away.

"Good."

**********

Rosebud Indian Reservation, South Dakota

"I'm coming," the old, weary chief grumbled, limping to the phone. "Hello," he said gruffly.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" the voice on the other end demanded without waiting for pleasantries.

"What ...?" Dan Bear Claws had to clear the cobwebs from his brain; it was still early. "What do you mean, what am I trying to do? You _know_ I'm trying to scare her out of that school."

"Well, your operative screwed up and tried to kill her!" the angry voice chided.

"What? Tried to _kill_ her?" Dan Bear frowned, puzzled. "That ... that can't be! He told me precisely what he was going to do, and I was very clear that there was to be no harm to her!"

"Well, he must have misunderstood, because she got hit near her spine with a very large ice ball that almost killed or paralyzed her."

"That ... that couldn't have been my guy!" Dan protested.

The other voice had no patience. "You better confirm that, and you better make sure it doesn't happen again! She's supposed to come home, but not in a pine box!"

"It _had_ to be someone else!"

There was a long, sharp breath audible on the phone. "Then I suggest that you use whatever contacts you have with other tribes to see if one of _them_ would prefer that she not come back. And you probably should start with the Cheyenne River tribes!"

"I don't have a lot of contacts ..."

"You better find some!" The voice was not in the slightest bit friendly, nor tolerant. "You _do_ know that I'm a shaman, don't you?"

Dan gulped; he hadn't realized how important the woman was. "Now I do."

"I don't need to remind you what will happen to you if anything happens to the Ptesanwi, do I?"

Dan shuddered inwardly. That was no idle threat. "No, of course not."

"And since you can't think of any other strategies, you will do the following." The voice gave a detailed list, and Dan Bear Claws nodded as he scribbled down his instructions.

"That'll be expensive!" he protested.

"Don't worry about the money. Just do it!" The line went dead.

The old, former chief shuddered. The demands were impossible, and yet he was expected to make sure everything happened precisely as he'd been instructed. He didn't dare make any mistakes; one did not lightly cross a shaman.

**********

Crystal Hall, Whateley

The rest of the day had gone wonderfully. Well, not completely wonderfully, but much better than the previous days. I sat at the dinner table, with my friends glancing at me warily, as if they were worried about me.

Finally, Laurie could take no more of the mystery. "Okay, Kayda," she began sternly, "what's up?"

"What do you mean, 'what's up'?" I asked innocently.

"You're not grumbling, pouting, sulking, griping, moaning, groaning, glaring, or frowning, and you don't look like you're ready to tear someone's head off," Evvie replied. "So what's up?"

That made me frown. "I'm not _that_ bad!" I didn't see anything that looked like support for my argument among the girls, so I looked to Adrian and Vasiliy.

The two realized they were being put on the spot, so they looked away - Adrian to his food, and Vasiliy in the general direction of the Berets, to avoid having to answer.

"C'mon," I continued plaintively, "I'm not that bad."

"Not all the time," Laurie chuckled, "but we were starting to wonder if _anything_ could pull you out of your funk."

"Besides the subject of your poster," Naomi added cryptically, winking at me.

It was Laurie's turn to frown. "Poster? What poster?"

"Nothing," I said quickly. While Evvie and Naomi knew of my relationship with Debra, and our rather intimate poster, Laurie and the others didn't, and I intended to keep it that way.

"Did you get a pass to skip martial arts? Is that why you're so happy?" Adrian plopped right back into the conversation.

"No," I frowned, absently rubbing my shoulder where I'd landed in a very limited sparring session. "Sensei Tolman worked my butt off,"

Vasiliy leaned back in his seat and looked at my rear. "Nope. Is still there. Cute, too."

I didn't have to slap him; Laurie did - and not very playfully.

"I had to spar a little, too." I winced at that memory. "I had to spar Charge."

"Isn't she a speedster?"

"Tell me about it," I snorted. "She hit me like five or six times before I could even react to the first smack! Then I got in trouble because Tatanka manifested, and I used my shield spell, when I was supposed to fight without powers."

"Oh, crap!" Laurie and Adrian said together. "Did he hurt her?" Adrian continued.

I chuckled a bit. "No. He stood across the ring, blocking me, so she couldn't get near me. And he glared at her a lot. I think she was a little intimidated." The group laughed at the mental image. "I had to make him go away, and then Charge hit me a few _more_ times, before I got frustrated and used my shield spell." I shook my head. "I couldn't get _near_ her, she's so fast, and she hit me and threw me like I was a rag doll."

"You didn't have any ... troubles ... like yesterday, did you?" Evvie asked, her voice echoing her concern.

"No. Sensei Tolman has me sparring and practicing with a group of girls so that doesn't happen again. But Ito told me that I was going to have to start sparring with boys eventually." I couldn't suppress a nervous shudder. "I don't think I can handle that."

"Okay, so you didn't freak in martial arts," Naomi said. "That's a plus."

"How about magic arts? Was that okay?"

I shook my head. "I got pretty frustrated, because the way Wakan Tanka is teaching me is completely different from how Ms. Grimes teaches, and I got completely confused. And the ... two ... were still being ... rude."

"Where were you at lunchtime?" Adrian asked the obvious question. "You weren't at security again, were you?" he continued warily. "Or did you have to stay after class in magic arts?"

I laughed at that. "No, I had to meet with a few teachers and Dr. Bellows."

Evvie and Naomi shared a knowing look. "You got in trouble again, didn't you?" Evvie said with certainty.

"No, it was about my class schedule," I beamed, unable to contain my glee any longer. "I've got Avatars in first period, and instead of English in fourth period, Dr. Quintain and Ms. Bell both want me doing work-study for them. And instead of fifth period Power Theory, Dr. Quintain said he'd let me self-study if I helped his research, so I'm in French in fifth period, which means I don't have super-late night classes, and I've got avatars, and I don't have English or Algebra!"

"Work study? For the math department? Doing what?" Adrian asked.

"They want to try an experiment. There are a few students who are really pushing to take math a lot faster than the curriculum allows, and that's really a burden on the faculty, so they want me to be a TA and tutor to see if I can help self-study and tutor to get the, quote, pains in the rear, unquote, moving faster without adding work to the faculty." I chuckled. "Considering I have more college math credit than most of the faculty, they must think I can handle that."

"So it's like a real teaching job?"

"Yeah," I grinned. "I used to tutor ... my friend," I caught myself before I slipped and revealed my gender change, "back in high school, so they want me to try. In fact, the deal hinges on whether the students want to try an accelerated program. They're supposed to get a hold of me before next week if they want to try, and then I'll have to work with Ms. Bell to have lesson and homework plans approved."

"Ugh," Naomi said with a grimace. "And that makes you happy?"

I chuckled aloud. "It's fun. And while I'm working with Dr. Quintain, he's sponsoring me for college credit for some serious graduate level classes."

Laurie shook her head, sighing. "You really _are_ a math nerd, aren't you?"

I smiled smugly at her. "Yes, I am, aren't I?"

"So, with no classes tonight, I suppose you'll sequester yourself in your room to study," Naomi suggested, chuckling.

"Not the whole night. Mr. Lodgeman's Native American group meets tonight, so I'm going to see what that's about."

Evvie leaned back suddenly, clutching her hand across her chest as if having a heart attack. "What? Kayda ... is going out?"

"Oh, knock it off."

"Kayda getting a social life is a sign of the apocalypse," Adrian joked. "We better listen for the sounds of the four horsemen!"

That set the tone for the rest of dinner - the others teased me because I was happy and was getting a social life. All in all, it was a good evening.

**********

End of Chapter 3

Kayda 2 - Trials of a Warrior, Chapter 4 - Itukala na Suka

Author:

Elrod

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Whateley Academy by Maggie Finson, et al

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A Whateley Academy Adventure

Kayda 2: Trials of a Warrior

Chapter 4 - Itukala na Suka

by ElrodW

Thursday, March 22, 2007
Whateley Academy

After dinner, Laurie, Adrian, and I went to one of the little sitting areas in the quad, where the two of them cuddled a bit while I met with Tatanka in my dream space. It was a little cool, which was fine with me; I was comfortable with weather like that, while Adrian and Laurie cuddled to keep themselves warm - and distracted.

I frowned when the bison led me toward the camp. "I thought you said that I was going to meet another spirit."

"You are," Tatanka said as he meandered between tepees toward the fire ring.

"Here? In the village?" I was confused.

"We could find Itukala anywhere, because he is so adaptable, but it is easy to find him here," Tatanka answered, lying down by the logs surrounding the fire pit.

"Itukala?" I asked, perplexed. "Okay, where is he?"

"Sit by the fire," Tatanka directed me.

Perplexed, I did so. I looked at Tatanka, who was sitting serenely, and at Wakan Tanka, who was meditating across the fire pit from me. When I frowned, Tatanka just smiled at me.

I felt something lightly tugging at my dress, and looking down, I saw a small brown rodent climbing up toward my shoulder. I did what anyone would do when confronted with an unexpected mouse climbing on his or her clothes - I practically jumped off my seat. The other thing I did was _not_ something that I was proud of; I screamed like a girl, which caused Tatanka to laugh uproariously.

The mouse dropped off my shoulder and scurried behind the log on which I sat. After a moment, his head peeked out, looking around nervously, and especially looking uneasily at me.

"Itukala," Tatanka said sternly, "you startled Wihakayda."

The mouse scampered out of its hiding place and sat on its haunches before the buffalo. "I'm sorry, great Tatanka," he squeaked. "She startled _me_!"

"I told you that she might be nervous about meeting you," Tatanka chided the mouse. "Now go meet her. She has much to learn, and you can help her."

Itukala bowed, and then nervously came before me. "I'm sorry, Wihakayda," he said apologetically. "You startled me."

I shook my head in disbelief. A mouse was going to teach me something? It wasn't like I was afraid of mice - growing up on a farm, mice and rats were a common problem, but we usually let the cats deal with them. "You startled _me_!" I countered.

"Perhaps, but you startled me more, and you're much bigger!" Itukala rebutted. "Besides, you're the one that Tatanka said is learning, not teaching." He scrambled up my dress and perched on my shoulder. "In some ways, Wihakayda," he said, "we are alike, and in some ways, we are very different."

"Oh? I suppose _you_ have been spying on me, too?" I shot a glare at Tatanka, who shrugged and looked away.

Itukala laughed, an odd sounding squeaking chuckle that could never be taken as anything angry or threatening, only amusing. "You are the Ptesanwi," Itukala said reverently. "Tatanka need not tell me important details like that. It is obvious to any who pay attention."

"Oh?" I was surprised at the revelation of what he already knew. "And what else?"

"You are young, and you make many mistakes, because you haven't learned yet," Itukala said. "You confuse what is important with what is unimportant."

"How would you know what's happening in my life?" I frowned at what he said.

"It is who I am," Itukala answered mysteriously. "Tell me, if you had a foe who wished you harm, and another with whom you'd only had a minor quarrel over a misunderstanding, which one would deserve most of your attention?"

"Easy. The one who wishes you harm."

"And yet, there are those who wish you harm that you don't concern yourself with, while you fret needlessly over issues like your instructors." He stared me unnervingly in the eyes. "Which one is unimportant?"

"The ... teachers?"

Itukala smiled. "Good. You must strive to discern the truly important from the unimportant, and then not worry about the latter."

"Okay, so I'm not so good at that. We're different."

"Not only that, but a part of being discerning is to pay attention to your surroundings, to things and events, so you are alert to danger," Itukala added. "Tell me, which animals fear me?"

"Um, none?" I guessed.

"Correct," Itukala confirmed. "Mato, the bear, Sungmanitu, the coyote, Ceda, the hawk, Wabli, the eagle, Hiha, the silent owl of the night, Igmu Taka, the cougar, Sugila, the fox, Sugmanitu Hota, the wolf, Thunkasan, the weasel, Skecathanka, the wolverine - these, and more, not only do not fear me, they hunt me. So how do I survive with so many enemies?"

"Uh, luck? Numbers?" I speculated.

"Partially," Itukala answered, but then he sat back on his haunches, still perched on my shoulder. "Luck I have. Numbers of us, there are," he squeaked in a really bad imitation of Yoda. "Sufficient, these are not. More must I have. Aware of my surroundings I must be. Like a Jedi, mmm?"

I couldn't keep a straight face. The tiny Itukala, squeaking in an amusing attempt to imitate of the ancient Jedi master, was comical. "Learn of my culture, you did!" I answered back, laughing aloud.

"In many place I can hide," Itukala replied with a grin. "In homes, schools, and even theaters. I know more of your strange culture than almost all of the other spirits, because I can watch, unobserved. And how do I know these things?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "It is because I pay attention to detail, especially my surroundings and dangers to me. I pay attention, and learn, and remember."

"Are you saying I don't do those things?" I challenged him.

"Not well. You have started," he added quickly. "You use your magic to protect yourself at times, which means that you are learning. But you place yourself in danger frequently by not paying attention to all of the details and dangers."

I frowned. "You said we are alike in some ways. But the way you're talking, it sounds like we have nothing in common."

Itukala squeaked out a chuckle. "Despite the brave face you paint, you are shy under new circumstances and events, and around new people," he said, "like me. You are determined to adapt and survive, like me, but sometimes you overdo your determination a little."

"I would call it stubborn," Tatanka butted in, earning a scowl from me, but a titter from Itukala.

"Okay," I said cautiously. "So I have a few things to learn."

Itukala looked at Tatanka. "And you told me she was too stubborn."

I frowned at Tatanka as he winced. Then I stuck my tongue out at him, only realizing too late that it was a very girly thing to do.

Laughing, Itukala hopped down from my shoulder and ran to Tatanka. The two of them seemed to be engaged in some type of conversation, and after a moment, Tatanka nodded, looking at me. I wondered what the white buffalo was up to.

"I believe it's time for you to go to your meeting," Tatanka said plainly, offering no hint of what he and the mouse had been discussing. "Your friends are waiting to escort you there."

I started at the reminder. "Oh, yeah. I guess I better go."

***************

Schuster Hall

"And of course you know Stonebear," Stormwolf said as he introduced me to some of the Native American group. Stonebear was a member of the Wild Pack, and thus one of the security auxiliaries that I'd seen off and on over the past several days.

"Nice to see you casually," I chuckled to Stonebear. He wasn't in his body armor, but was wearing traditional Paiute shirt, and he looked a little uncomfortable, almost as if he was uncomfortable without his Wild Pack armor. Stonebear wasn't as tall as Stormwolf, but he was almost as physically imposing, and no doubt many of the girls found him attractive.

"I hope you can stay out of trouble for a few days," he retorted with a grin. "It gets boring to deal with your issues time after time."

There was a trio that seemed to be inseparable; an older woman who I was told was from the local Medawihla tribe and their representative to many school affairs and boards, a young girl who seemed to be highly observant and quiet but looked nothing like the woman, and a girl who looked like she was a human-panther hybrid, with cat-like ears and blue cat-eyes. Her body was lightly furry, and everyone stayed back from her a bit, because, as Stormwolf told me, she generated a large electrical charge.

Stormwolf made sure he introduced me to the members; Lupine was very distinctive, with white hair and striking yellow eyes that seemed more animal than human. She didn't mention her tribe, but was watching me, cocking an eyebrow when I mentioned that I was Lakota.

Flux was a Chickasaw from Oklahoma; I'd seen him around Poe, but I never formally met him. He seemed a little bored by the event, which seemed common among the guys. I could tell both Stonebear and Stormwolf were itching to leave, and Flux probably wasn't far behind them.

Lifeline was interesting; whether her ash-blonde hair was due to genetics or her mutation was an open question; in either case, she didn't appear so much Native American as much as a well-tanned average high-school girl. She hailed from Kansas, so she had a refreshing down-home manner about her, unlike all those coastal big-city types that always seemed so pretentious, at least to me. She didn't mention what tribe she was from, but Wakan Tanka guessed that she was Kickapoo.

Mindfist, Rachael Harriston, from Alaska, was definitely not an exemplar, but she was still quite cute, in a Native American way. Her tall, athletic, curvy body was definitely not stereotypical Inuit, but her skin tone and hair were definitely Amerindian.

One of the other girls, who was introduced by her code name Crimson, even though someone told me her name was Felicia Kingston, was from the coastal Washington state area, and was Chinook. Her long, wavy brunette hair had a small touch of red, but that intriguing look clashed with her slate-gray eyes. She was a junior, and a member of a training team that, if rumor was to be believed, was sponsored by the Syndicate. That fit; there was a mysterious air about her, as if she was constantly on the lookout for trouble.

Bluejay, Jay Blue-Lake, was a Chumash from southern California. He seemed to have a mischievous twinkle in his eye that made me want to watch out for trickery from him. His alpha pin marked him as one of the campus elite; I couldn't help thinking that someone like him would feel he was too good to hob-nob with 'normal' students like the Native American group.

Skinwalker, a tall Apache from Arizona, seemed friendly but a little reserved. Perhaps it was just me, but he seemed to be observing me closely. It might also have been the distinctive dark tattooed designs on his arms and face that were quite unusual, and thus drew attention to himself.

It wasn't hard to guess that Slapshot was Canadian, based on the small Canadian flag pin he wore on his shirt collar. A member of the Canadian First Nations, he was from the Chippewa tribe. He looked like he was a hockey player - although he still had a full set of teeth, and he looked rather serious, like he'd forgotten how to look happy!

"And you know Stonebear," Stormwolf said with a wry smile.

"It's nice to see you without having to fill out a report afterwards," Stonebear joked. Then he frowned. "You _aren't_ going to make us fill out paperwork tonight, are you?"

"Not if I can help it," I chuckled back at him.

Stonebear grinned. "Good. I have the night off, or at least that's the theory."

Stormwolf introduced me to the final two girls present. "Mechanisma, this is Kayda," he said ineloquently. He turned to me. "You'll have to bear with her; she's one of those insufferably-arrogant Texans!' he joked.

The girl stuck her tongue out at Stormwolf, and then smiled pleasantly at me. "I've heard of you," she said, drawing a surprised look from me. "Some of the guys in the lab say that you're a gadgeteer, too." She was cute, but not exemplar-beautiful, but in the labs deep in the bowels of Whateley, that was probably more than attractive enough for the hordes of guys in lab-coats. The tiny bit of Southern drawl in her voice added charm that was probably a huge hit in the ranks of the technophiles.

"I've kind of had a thing for mechanical stuff since I can remember," I replied lightly. "My preliminary testing showed that I'm a bit of a gadgeteer."

"Good," Mechanisma smiled. "It's always nice to have other girls in the lab. Strength in numbers and all that, you know."

"And last, but not least, is Wind Runner," Stormwolf introduced me to one of the other girls in the meeting room. "She tries to keep things running when Totem is out of town," he added.

"That's been rather frequently of late," Lifeline chuckled.

"Yeah, and I heard that it's because of you," Skinwalker laughed.

Wind Runner's laugh sounded forced, and she was looking quite critically at me, although I didn't really understand why. She was pretty, and her features made Wakan Tanka guess that she was from the desert southwest - perhaps Hopi or Navajo. She was a couple of inches shorter than me, and a little thinner, almost starving-waif model thin. I was prettier, though, I realized, and her envious or critical look could easily be jealousy from a rival in the looks department. I held out my hand to her. "I'm Kayda," I said, and saw Stormwolf raise an eyebrow. "Er, Pejuta," I added quickly. It wasn't clear when I should use my code name and when I should use my real name.

"What tribe are you registered with?" Lupine asked, eyeing me cautiously. With those yellow eyes, it looked almost creepy.

I winced; Wind Runner seemed to be almost glaring at me and the attention I was getting. "Uh, I'm not," I answered, noting Wind Runner's look of triumph or relief - I couldn't tell which. "My grandmother Little Doe is full-blooded Lakota, so I'm eligible, but my brother and I haven't been enrolled yet."

"Which tribe?" Lupine asked curiously, having been listening in.

"Sicangu," I answered without hesitation. "Grandmother Little Doe grew up on the Rosebud reservation."

"I'm of the Wolf Clan," Lupine said in a hushed voice, obviously wanting to keep her tribal affiliation secret.

I felt my eyes bugged out. "According to my grandmother, that clan ... disappeared - a very long time ago."

With a wry smile, Lupine said, "The reports of our deaths are greatly exaggerated."

"Mark Twain, paraphrased," I chuckled.

Lupine seemed surprised. "Most people don't recognize the quote. Do you like literature?"

I shook my head, laughing. "No. While I do like some science fiction, I much prefer math."

"Too bad. We're always looking for new members in the Whateley Literary Club."

"The Lit Chix?" I asked, smiling. "My ... friend ... Debra told me about the club." I saw her puzzled expression. "She graduated last year, and helped save me from the MCO back home."

"Oh." Lupine wrinkled her nose. "It's the Literary Club," she reiterated, letting me know that she didn't think much of the nickname the club had acquired. "You look more than one quarter Lakota." She'd decided to change the subject, halting at least temporarily her recruitment effort.

"I got a little bonus when I manifested," I said with a smile.

A few others who were gathered around and listening in chuckled. "Yeah, we all understand _that_!" one guy laughed, imagining, I'm sure, that I was merely an exemplar who'd gotten more attractive with my manifestation. I wasn't about to disabuse anyone of that notion.

"There are several members who aren't here," Stormwolf explained, as if excusing the small turnout. In fact, it was a little larger club than I'd expected, and if some weren't here, the Native Americans were well-represented on campus - perhaps more-so than in the population as a whole. I wondered about that; were Native Americans more likely to manifest? Perhaps it would be something to ask Charlie Lodgeman about sometime - if I remembered.

"You probably know Riptide; she's from Poe."

"Yeah, she's a couple of doors down from me," I explained.

"Another one from Poe is Heyoka," Stormwolf continued. "Thunderbird, Mule, and Hardsell round out the guys, and Aztecka, Swoop, and Pristine are the rest of the girls. When they're here, that is," he added.

"Sounds like a rather diverse group," I said casually.

"There are others who aren't members, despite being enrolled in various tribes."

Some of the group seemed rather puzzled to see Stormwolf present, and I was certain that rumors were going to start, because Stormwolf and the Wild Pack had been spending a lot of time watching and escorting me. I felt a slight tinge of nausea at the thought of even salacious rumors about me and _any_ guy. Knowing the connections and friendships that existed, I didn't doubt that someone was still in touch with Debra, and she'd eventually hear some of these rumors. That, in turn, meant that I'd have to talk to her first, just in case.

The meeting was actually rather boring, with a little drumming and singing of traditional songs, plus a Navajo game. By the end of the meeting, I understood why Stormwolf didn't attend many meetings. Still, it was socializing a little, which I hadn't done.

Just as we were about to break up, Mr. Lodgeman arrived. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized. "I've spent the last several days helping with a couple of ... urgent research projects, including a marathon day and a half at HPARC in the Black Hills. If they hadn't had a warper bring me back, I wouldn't be back until late tomorrow." His face lit up in a smile when he saw me, and he changed direction to come to the little group I was talking with. "Kayda," he said as he clasped my hands, "it's good to see you. How are you adjusting to Whateley?"

I guess that my derisive snort gave away a general mood. "It's been ... different," I admitted, stealing a glance at Wind Runner, who'd looked like she'd sucked on a lemon. I gathered, from the way things went, that she was expecting Mr. Lodgeman to talk to her, since she was the putative head of the group, and she was highly upset that he'd come to me first.

Mr. Lodgeman chuckled. "I understand you've had a few problems." He shot a glance at Stormwolf, who was standing near me.

"A few," I admitted. "Nothing as bad as back home, but ...." I shrugged, not wanting to say more in front of others, even though Stormwolf probably knew eighty percent of what I might have told Mr. Lodgeman.

"Dr. Bellows has kept me informed. I understand he got your classes straightened out today?"

I couldn't help but grin at that. "Yeah. But I have to figure out if I want to work with Ms. Bell as a TA or do work-study with Dr. Quintain."

Around me, jaws fell. I was new on campus, and I was being recruited to be a teaching assistant in the math department.

"Get ahold of me tomorrow when you get a chance. Since I'm your official advisor, I'd like to meet to review your schedule and plans." He started to turn away, and then turned back, like he had an afterthought. "I need to talk with you about your ... adventures while traveling here."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Mr. Lodgeman, can I ask a question?"

"Yes?"

"Why is this group only informal? If it was a recognized group, it could use campus resources, and maybe even have a reserved meeting hall or hangout."

Some of the guys around me perked up a bit at that suggestion. "I don't think anyone's ever suggested it," Mr. Lodgeman answered with an interested expression.

"And ... um ...." I wasn't sure I wanted to continue.

"Go on, Kayda," he prompted me with a smile.

"Uh, Wakan Tanka was telling me I should learn some, um, traditional fighting skills," I managed to stammer. "You know, like the bow, lance, and tomahawk. And, um ...."

Around me, the jaws repeated their downward trip, but whether that was from my name-dropping, or from my suggestion, I couldn't tell. Mr. Lodgeman, however, wasn't one of those surprised. "And you were wondering if perhaps this group might be a place to learn and practice those skills, right?" For not being an esper or telepath, Mr. Lodgeman was dead-on reading my intentions.

"Yeah. I mean, maybe it'd be cool if we went out camping native style, and had some skills games and challenges. And cooked and ate some traditional foods."

Stormwolf chuckled. "In case you hadn't noticed, Kayda," he said, "there aren't a lot of buffalo to hunt around these parts anymore."

"But perhaps we could simulate some hunts and such," Mr. Lodgeman countered. "You know, Kayda, that might be a very good idea you had. If you kids were a formally-recognized group, you could use the simulators to do more ... adventurous ... native skills."

"Like a buffalo hunt," Lupine said, grinning.

Mr. Lodgeman laughed. "That might be a lot of fun. I have to warn you, though, that if, and I repeat, _if_, you get formal recognition, do _not_ get your hopes up of seeing me putting on a sim suit and chasing after buffalo!"

"I don't think Tatanka would let _me_ weasel out of that," I said with a grin.

Lupine eyed me warily. "Tatanka? Wakan Tanka?" She obviously recognized the names, and probably the importance.

I realized that I'd said too much. I glanced around nervously, and then looked at Lupine, and gestured to one side with a very small head tilt and sideways glance with my eyes. She caught my hint, and when I excused myself, she followed discretely.

"So, what's up with Tatanka and Wakan Tanka?" she asked again when we were away from the others.

"Um, my avatar spirit is Tatanka," I said hesitantly.

"Pretty cool," Lupine replied. "You've got a buffalo spirit. How does that tie in to Wakan Tanka?"

"No. Not _a_ buffalo spirit. _The_ buffalo spirit. White Tatanka." After I spoke, I wondered if I should have kept my mouth shut.

"_The_ white Tatanka?" Lupine's eyes were wide as saucers. "That is _sooo_ cool!"

"Yeah, well, most of the time he's pretty cool, but sometimes he's a pain in the rear." I glanced around. "On the honor of the Wolf Clan, I have to ask you to not tell anyone."

"It will be secret," she said solemnly. "Does Mr. Lodgeman know?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He dream-walked with me to help me understand my spirits." Oops. I should have used the singular form. Fortunately, either Lupine didn't notice, or she ignored what I'd just said.

"And Wakan Tanka?" Lupine asked, her voice carrying a bit of reverence and awe.

I shrugged. I couldn’t tell her that I was the Ptesanwi. "She ... sometimes speaks to me," I explained cautiously, "in my dreams."

Lupine's eyes narrowed as she studied me carefully. I felt intimidated by her piercing gaze, but eventually, she just nodded. We conversed a while longer more; I was curious about the wolf clan, and she was curious about what I knew of my tribe - which sadly was only what Grandmother Little Doe had taught me.

"You've got to come back, especially when Heyoka is here," Lupine said eagerly. "He'd be so interested in talking with you."

"Your tea," Wakan Tanka called to me as I sat down by the fire pit, handing me a gourd full of her magic brew.

"Who is Heyoka?" I asked. "I was young when Grandmother told me the stories - _if_ she did. I don't really remember anything."

Wakan Tanka had a puzzling expression. I couldn’t tell if she was upset or concerned or amused. "Heyoka is ... the sacred clown. He is a jester and clown, and most importantly, he is a teacher."

"A clown - as a teacher?"

"Heyoka is a contrary Wakan person. If this Heyoka of whom Lupine speaks is truly Heyoka, heir of the tradition of Black Elk, then he holds the spirit of the Wakinyan, the thunderbird."

"What do you mean, contrary? What is his role?" I was curious about this sacred clown.

"Heyoka acts backwards. If food is scarce, he will complain about being full. In the cold snows, he will wander around naked complaining about how hot it is."

"That sounds ... stupid." I took a big sip of tea.

"Heyoka teaches through satire by making the People think. Heyoka says those things people are afraid to say, and challenges beliefs that people aren't really certain of."

I nodded. "That sounds like one of my teachers back home."

"What is Heyoka doing here?" Wakan Tanka asked, which I took as a rhetorical question. She sighed, and looked at me. "You must find out. Heyoka's presence here, so far from our ancestral lands, is odd."

"Some would say the same of Ptesanwi and Tatanka," I said with a smirk.

Wakan Tanka frowned. "You have been spending far too much time with Tatanka. He is being a bad influence on you."

When I snapped out of my dream space, I noticed that Mr. Lodgeman was watching me, not like I was in trouble or like I was doing something wrong, but like he was merely observing. He disengaged from the conversation around him and meandered over to me.

"Another dream walk?" he asked with a knowing smile.

I shrugged. "Sometimes, Wakan Tanka wants to talk to me. Sometimes, I need to talk to her. It's a convenient break at times."

He laughed. "Just don't make a habit of doing that during your classes."

After a while, the group started to break up, so I decided that maybe I should go back to Poe to do some studying. Stormwolf had left earlier, with a promise that two security officers would escort me to Poe. When I protested, he was adamant; there was something unknown afoot, and Chief Delarose wasn't taking any chances with me.

Mr. Lodgeman called for the security guards when I was ready to leave. He, too, wasn't about to take a chance with my safety. I had to wait until two guards showed up outside our meeting room, one glancing in and scanning the room.

"My chaperones are here," I told Mr. Lodgeman, rolling my eyes at the thought that I'd require a security escort. "I bet I look like a total weenie."

"You aren't going to buck orders again, are you?"

I sighed. "No, sir." I walked out to the waiting guards.

Their eyes fixed on me. "Kayda Franks?" one of them asked politely but firmly. His nametag read Lindon.

"Yes," I answered, feeling more than a trifle nervous.

"We're to escort you back to your cottage," Officer Lindon spoke.

I glanced at the second officer, feeling a bit wary for some reason. "Hi," I said, putting on a smile."

The second officer, Matthews from the nametag on his uniform, didn't answer, or so much as blink, but he stared at me with an impassive, creepy look in his eyes.

"Lyle is pissed that his favorite basketball team isn't going to the final four," Officer Lindon laughed. "He's been glaring at people and growling since he came on shift."

With a wave back to Lupine, I started toward the stairs.

"Elevator. The tunnels are safer," Matthews said firmly. There was absolutely no emotion in his voice, and the vacant stare in his eyes was really getting on my nerves.

Neither officer said anything in the elevator, and once in the tunnels, we walked for a ways, while Officer Lindon made small talk about Whateley - he understood I was new here, how did I like it, where was I from. Standard issue chit-chat. The second officer, though, was stone-cold silent, and when I stole a glance over my shoulder, his eyes seemed to be intently focused on me. He was making me very nervous, so I turned back to chat with Officer Lindon

The sudden click and a boom echoed strangely in my ears as sound reverberated from the tunnel walls. Startled, I turned around - and my jaw fell open. The second officer, Officer Matthews, had his rifle leveled at Lindon, and wisps of thin vapor still drifted from the barrel. Lindon's eyes were wide open, and his body was sliding down the wall of the tunnel, leaving a red smear behind staining the rock.

Expressionless, Officer Matthews swung his heavy firearm toward me, his murderous intent only too clear. I barely had time to invoke a shield before the gun barked again, and then four more times in rapid succession. Sparks flew from my shield at the impact points of the bullets, and the shield itself was severely weakened by the sheer energy that the impacts of five thirty-caliber bullets had imparted to it. I had no idea how much more the shield spell would last under that ferocious assault.

I did what anyone would do in such a situation - I turned and ran, blindly and frantically, while behind me, the rifle barked again and again, and my magical energy was being drained to hold up the shield, the only thing that was keeping me alive. I turned down a hall, which I thought led to an elevator, or at least should go past other labs.

From one door, a couple of heads poked out, curious about the sound echoing through the halls, but when they heard more shots and saw Officer Matthews chasing me, firing, they ducked back into the lab, and I heard the door being bolted shut. Damn - if I'd have been six or seven feet further down the corridor, I could have ducked in too. When I saw the door more closely as I sprinted past it, I realized that would have done no good. The door didn't look nearly heavy enough to stop the rifle.

I ducked down one side hall which dead-ended in a stairwell that only went down. Terrified, hoping for the best, I dashed down the stairs, hearing his heavy boot-steps running behind me. I exited and ran to a T in the corridors, and without thinking, I sprinted to the left, figuring that most people went right, and if Officer Matthews hadn't seen me, he might run to the right as well. Anything for a little extra space between me and the murderous security officer.

I hadn't fooled him, and he was following me like a bloodhound. I passed an elevator, but instinct told me that even if a car was there, waiting, by the time the doors shut, Officer Lyle would have caught up and I'd be dead.

What the hell was this guy's problem? I knew some security officers didn't like me, but this was ridiculous! He was trying his best to kill me! And if that wasn't bad enough, it was late, and the tunnels were mostly empty because it was nearing curfew.

Another shot rang out, and I felt my shield take the impact. I didn't know how, but I was grateful that it was still there, because I knew that I'd have long since been dead without it.

Around a corner was another door, so without bothering to think, I crashed through it. Damn - another staircase that only went down. I cursed the tunnel designers who apparently hadn't planned any emergency exits with stairs that went up, or at least not any close to where I needed them.

As I passed a landing at different tunnel level, I heard the distinctive sound of boot steps on the stairs above me, I kicked the door open, and then using its slamming to hide my own footsteps, I slipped quietly down to the next level, grateful that I was wearing my moccasins because they were silent.

I huddled by the door the next level down, eyes wide with fear, as the door above crashed open and heavy boots clomped out of the stairwell. The sound paused for a moment, and I figured that Officer Matthews was looking or listening for me in the corridor above.

Quietly, cautiously, I pried open the lower door, and eased myself out into the maze of tunnels, doing my best to keep the door closing silent. Unfortunately, as the door shut, the latch slipped past the metal frame and into the striker plate, making an audible click that sounded like it was a hundred decibels. Eyes wide with fear, I dashed down the tunnel, randomly taking branches as I struggled through the maze. Behind me, I heard the door crash open and running footsteps pursuing me again. I dashed along the halls, hoping to find some way to escape the crazed officer.

Something seemed familiar about this corridor. I turned, and within fifty feet, I ran headlong into a security guard outside a restricted lab area. He looked up at me sharply. "Do you have authorization ...?"

"He's trying to kill me!" I screamed. "Matthews is trying to kill me! You've got to help!" The phrase panic-stricken was completely inadequate to describe the terror I felt.

The officer's countenance instantly changed; what I had said sounded serious, but he was professional enough to know that I might be a ruse. His hand slipped down to his sidearm as he stood, giving him freedom of motion. "Who is trying to kill ...?"

Officer Matthews came around the corner, following my screamed pleas for help. Impassively, as he slowed to a stop, he raised his rifle and deliberately and callously shot the officer at the security station. I watched as the man crumpled, bleeding, and I turned back, confused, scared, and knowing that I was probably going to die. "Why?" I asked simply, feeling my eyes crying at what I'd seen and what I was certain was about to happen.

"You won't escape me this time, Wihakayda." The words came out of a sneer, but they sounded forced, like Officer Matthews wasn't used to speaking. He swung his rifle toward me, and time seemed to nearly stop. I realized, belatedly, that he'd spoken Lakota, and further, he'd called me by the name Wakan Tanka used. What the hell was going on?

I cast my spell again, but found that my magic energy was nearly drained. Still, it stiffened the shield enough to deflect two bullets from near point-blank range. There was only one thing I could think of. Tatanka manifested on command, and after a moment to understand the situation, he turned and charged toward Officer Matthews.

Shots rang out, and I screamed in agony as it felt like my guts were being torn asunder. One after another, three bullets hit Tatanka before he head-butted Officer Matthews sharply. The transference of pain from Tatanka to me was definitely a down-side to being able to manifest the brute, even if he was a good fighter.

The deranged officer dodged at the last second, avoiding the horn which would have ripped him open like a paper bag, but he was still tossed across the hall. His dexterity, however, was amazing, and he landed on his feet, getting another shot into Tatanka while the white bison turned. I felt the searing pain of the shot, and it staggered me.

Tatanka was losing his effectiveness, but he still had fight in him. He swung his head sharply, and I saw the spray of blood and guts as he tore open the belly of Officer Matthews.

The officer stopped, and looked down at his horribly mutilated abdomen, and then he laughed. "You have to do better than that, Wihakayda!" With his intestines spilling out of the open, bleeding wound, he shot at Tatanka, this time having switched his gun to fully automatic, and I felt a row of spikes driving into my own body as Tatanka's pain was transferred to me.

This time I did slip backwards, falling against the downed officer who Officer Matthews had so callously murdered. I was fighting the searing pain transferred from my white buffalo, agony through my entire torso as the rampaging officer put shot after shot into Tatanka, until finally, too damaged to maintain his manifestation, Tatanka vanished in a wisp of cloud.

Officer Matthews turned toward me, his face still expressionless, but his voice taunting. "The bitch chose poorly, didn't she Wihakayda?" Without monologueing, which I'd secretly hoped he'd do, giving me a second or two to think of something, anything, that I could do. I was out of options. There was only one thing left in my bag of tricks - I cast my ghost-walking spell.

When I saw the look of confusion on Officer Matthew's face, I realized that the spell had hidden me. Almost too late, I rolled to the side when I realized that Matthews would probably shoot where he'd last seen me. The shots were fired blindly, and one ripped into my left thigh, a red-hot poker of flesh-rending pain that made me scream. I lost my focus even as a second shot tore into my ribcage on my side, probably shattering ribs, and the silvery hue around Officer Matthews vanished as my ghost-walking spell collapsed. I tried, desperately, to pull myself back, as if somehow getting myself a few inches further from that deadly thirty-caliber rifle would spare me. It was a foolish hope.

Until my hand hit something metal. I knew instantly, as I slid backward through the pool of my own blood and that of whatever officer had been gunned down moments ago, what the object was. But I had no time. Officer Matthews raised the gun, and I could see his finger squeezing the trigger. I closed my eyes, flinching, knowing that death was milliseconds away.

The loud click caught me by surprise, but it was an even bigger surprise to Officer Matthews, or the thing that was animating him, for he was clearly being powered by some unnatural force that wasn't disturbed by having rent human guts cascading from his belly. I had a good idea of what that force was, unfortunately.

As he snarled, and then reached for a magazine, I clutched at the foreign object I'd backed into, and my eyes wide with fear, I pulled the handgun up beside me. I knew the gun well from its feel, and from having seen it on many security officers - it was a standard issue Beretta 92FS. My mom had one, and I'd cut my teeth shooting handguns with it.

Agony ripped through me as I tried to bring the gun up two-handed. My leg and ribs sent wave after wave of pain through me, and the damage sustained by Tatanka had transferred to me and seriously weakened me. The sight picture blurred and wobbled all over, defying my attempts to line up on Officer Matthews, while he slapped home a fresh magazine and reached for the bolt release.

The Beretta barked once, twice, and then over and over. Officer Matthews staggered, but kept struggling to raise the rifle toward me, while I fired shot after shot into his head and upper torso. The Beretta slide locked open as my hand fell to the ground and my vision faded to gray.

***************

Doyle Medical Complex

Slowly, sound filtered back into my brain. I wasn't sure quite what it was at first, but I could hear people talk loudly, noisily, and with a great sense of urgency. I didn't try to open my eyes at first, though.

"How's her blood pressure?" someone asked. It sounded like Dr. Guitterez, who I'd met in the ER only days before.

"Eight-five over fifty-five, but it's stable."

"She's lucky she's a regenerator," I heard the doctor say. "Or she wouldn't have made it this far."

I felt something tugging at my clothes, and through the pain, it felt a little drafty. I moaned, trying to ask what was going on.

"She's conscious," I heard the doctor say, concerned. "Get her under, stat! Is the OR ready?"

Moments later, there was a slight burning sensation in my arm, and then the pain started to fade as a mask was slipped over my face.

***************

Friday, March 23, 2007 - shortly after midnight

"I think she's coming around," a voice said. I didn't recognize who had spoken. "Kayda? Kayda, can you hear me?"

I tried to open my eyes, but they refused to respond. My throat felt raw, and my mouth was dry. "Uhhh," I mumbled, trying but unable to form a word.

"Kayda, don't fight. Lie still and let the anesthesia wear off."

I was content to follow that advice because I hurt too much and didn't have the strength to do much more. I let the world of dreams and shadows reclaim me.

***************

Gradually, I managed to pry open an eye, but I flinched at the bright lights. "Sore," I croaked.

"Open up, Kayda," someone said. "It's an ice chip for you to suck on to moisten your mouth." I let them slip the ice into my mouth. The cool liquid melting from the sliver of ice soothed my throat and helped dissipate the gunk I felt was gumming up my mouth.

"More," I croaked, a little less hoarsely. I managed to open my eyes enough to see a nurse standing beside me, leaning over toward me to slip me another ice chip. I let myself sag back, and I seemed to float away again as my brain tried to process the information that didn't make sense. I was in a hospital room, and the clock that I'd spotted behind the nurse seemed to indicate around two thirty. Two thirty? Morning or afternoon? How long had I been out?

"Kayda? Kayda, can you hear me?" It was Mrs. Shugendo's voice. Oh shit, I was in really deep trouble if Mrs. Shugendo was here personally. That meant it was two-thirty in the afternoon, which in turn meant I'd been out for about seventeen hours.

I moaned, or something, still not wanting to open my eyes and admit the searing pain of the bright lights. My head hurt anew. When I'd passed out, I must have hit it again.

"Kayda, can you hear me?" Mrs. Shugendo asked again.

"Uh huh," I mumbled affirmatively.

"Can you tell us what happened? Do you remember?" Ms. Hartford asked insistently.

Crap. I was in deep trouble if both Mrs. Shugendo and Ms. Hartford were there. "Unh," I mumbled, feeling fatigue washing over me, making me want to shut my senses and sleep. But there was something I had to tell them. The problem was that my head felt like it was swimming and my thoughts wouldn't coalesce, and I had almost no strength.

"Kayda," another voice said, "This is Chief Delarose. Do you know what happened?" I didn't need his intro to recognize his voice, too. I'd spent way too much time in his company already.

"Officer ... tried ...." My voice faded off as I fought fatigue again. I just wanted to go to sleep. "Unh ...."

"Who shot you? Officer Matthews?" It was the Chief speaking.

"Uh huh," I muttered softly.

"Did he shoot Lindon and Hicks, too?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, even more softly.

They must have thought I'd fallen asleep, or had slipped into unconsciousness again, when in reality I was just too tired to respond. Ms. Hartford curtly asked the Chief, "What happened?"

Chief Delarose didn't sound happy. "Based on a quick view of the security footage, Matthews turned his gun on Lindon without warning and shot him, then fired multiple times at Kayda. It appears that she had some kind of shield or force generator, because nothing hit her, and there are some energy flares close to her at the times Matthews shot. She ran, and ended up going down to the fourth level, with Matthews following her. Kayda stopped outside the restricted biolabs, presumably to ask for help from Hicks. Matthews arrived and shot him, and fired at Kayda again. She manifested her buffalo, which Matthews fired repeated at, the buffalo demanifested, and then Matthews had to reload. That's when Kayda used Hicks' gun to shoot and kill Matthews. It was thirty-five seconds from Matthews' first shot until Kayda stopped him. We didn't even get an alert to the whole team or get to lockdown." He sounded very frustrated by his last bit of news. "We were lucky the first teams found Kayda and Lindon so quickly."

"What is going on with her?" Mrs. Shugendo asked, the frustration in her voice clear as a bell. "Psychic intrusions and harassment is one thing, but blatant attempted murder, and by a security officer?"

"The doctors said Lindon will make it. Hicks, though ...." The chief's voice trailed off, and I knew what he meant without having to hear the words.

"Damn."

"Some of the men were saying that Matthews was acting funny all day today. There are several peculiar facts here. What has Louis' attention is that, in the footage, it looks like Kayda's buffalo all but disemboweled Matthews, but he stood in place as if nothing happened. How many people do you know who can continue fighting when their guts have been put through a blender?"

Ms. Hartford whistled softly. "What causes a security officer to become homicidal like this? And to continue to fight even though, by all rights, he should have been mortally wounded and down?"

"Louis thinks some demon force was animating him. It's the only thing that would explain his ability to fight after the gut injury. He very specifically stated that no-one touch Matthews' body, but that we get someone from Psychic Arts or ARC Black Section to come and take a look. He thinks it might be ... contaminated by something ... nasty."

I tried to open my eyes, but I was too tired. "Unhce ...." I mumbled.

"What?" Both Hartford and Delarose asked.

"Unh ... ce ... gila," I finished saying. Just talking was sapping all my strength.

"Get Reverend Englund to have a look. He's dealt with this kind of thing before."

"I already contacted him. And I got ahold of ARC. They'll call when they're at the scene. Security has a perimeter set up to keep everyone away in the meantime."

Mrs. Shugendo sighed heavily. "What do we do with Kayda? Confine her in Hawthorne for her own protection and have her attend classes remotely? Post guards? Even that won't help, as this incident illustrates."

"You're not going to like this, but I think she needs to have her magic knife back, so she has at least something to defend herself with."

"Yeah, I was wondering about that," Ms. Hartford said in an emotionless, analytical tone.

"And get her through safety class and authorize her to carry a pistol," Delarose added.

"Damn! I don't like having to arm students to keep them safe, and I don't like authorizing that while Mrs. Carson is out," Mrs. Shugendo muttered angrily.

"It's necessary, though," Ms. Hartford countered. "Get three guards, and have Louis scan them. No ifs, ands, or buts - they get scanned. And then post two outside this room, and one at the corridor entrance. No-one gets in to see her without being scanned by him."

"Okay," the chief answered. "I'll stay here until the guards arrive. You should try to get some rest before sunrise."

Sunrise? Did that mean it was two-thirty in the morning? Had I been out a whole day? Or just a few hours?

That suggestion was answered with a derisive snort from Mrs. Shugendo. "Are you kidding? After all this, you think I'd be able to sleep? I'll just drink a lot of coffee."

A few hazy moments later, or what seemed like moments but really could have been hours, given my state, I felt a warm hand on my forehead. "Be calm," the male voice said. "I'm Banned Aids. I'm going to do some healing on you."

"Damage ... magic, from Tatanka getting hit," I mumbled. "Not ... healing right."

Some energy seemed to be trying to get into me, but instead of relief, I felt a little nausea and some pain in my head. After a bit, Banned Aids must have stopped, because the feelings went away.

"Chief ... Unhce ... Unhcegila." I mumbled, too tired to speak more clearly, but the pieces clicked in place. The presence I'd felt from Officer Matthews, the mocking way he'd addressed me - in Lakota - it all fit.

Even in dream space, I was bandaged, and my thigh felt like it was home to a red-hot poker, while my abdomen and ribs felt a slightly higher level of pain. It was so intense that I was sweating quite profusely. I wasn't at the fire, but was lying on buffalo furs inside a tepee.

Wakan Tanka noticed that I was awake. "You are in distress, Wihakayda," she said. "Your wounds are not healing properly."

"Tatanka?" I asked, since I didn't see or feel the furry beast. "Where's Tatanka?"

"He's okay. He's resting, just like you should. His wounds would heal quickly, as quickly as yours do, but right now, he is injured."

"Why hasn't my regeneration worked? Why didn't a healing spell work?" I asked, a little bit snarky.

"The wounds are ... tainted."

"But ... can you heal me? Or can I do a healing spell on myself?"

"I dare not heal you from this," Wakan Tanka said, a sad look in her eyes. "Much as I wish I could."

"But ... why not?"

"The cost to you is too high." She saw my puzzled look. "I told you once before that there was a cost when I directly performed magic on you. I can give you some raw magic energy, and I can instruct you, but when I send more than a trickle of magic to you, such as a healing spell, it builds up interference between my realm and yours."

"I don't follow. Interference?"

"It's like a fog that gets thicker. If I used too much magic, I would no longer be able to communicate with you."

"Oh." That would be really not good.

"It is a veil between our realms. The more spells I use directly, or the more energy I try to send you, the thicker the veil becomes. In a fog, even sunlight cannot penetrate clearly. So it will be between you and me."

"I'd be on my own?" I asked, frightened by her words.

"Yes. The magic I send you is like a candle at night, a small, steady magic stream to help you that slips through the veil without disturbing it. More magic, though, disturbs the veil, and it becomes thicker and less able to let magic through. If the veil is too thick, the magic won't go through at all, just as light from a candle cannot be seen in a thick fog. The stream of magic from me to you will vanish." She sighed heavily. "I almost healed you. I was preparing to, when the doctors crudely repaired the damage."

"But you didn't. Because of what it would have cost?"

"Yes, child. Because of the taint, it would have taken far more magic than the other healings, and the barrier between us would be very thick and strong."

"I was attacked ... by Unhcegila, wasn't I? Is that why you taught me of him, because you knew his attacks would come?"

"It was one of the spawn of Unhcegila that attacked you, the same one that attacked Debra in the dream world, and I believe the same one who poisoned the mind of Mishibijiw."

"So ... the taint has taken my natural healing away?"

"For now," Wakan Tanka replied. "You must rest and recover magic energy. When you have enough, I will teach you to remove the taint, and then you will heal quickly." She took her medicine pouch and quickly mixed up some tea. "This will help restore some magic energy. You must consume as much tea as you can to gain the energy you will need, that which the wauspewichakhiya Grimes calls 'essence'."

I sat back to rest, cringing at the stabbing pain in my abdomen and thigh, allowing Wakan Tanka to tend to me with some other type of herbal concoction. When she took off the bandages, the tugging made me cry out softly in pain as I flinched.

"This will help you," Wakan Tanka said as she began to gently rub a thick paste over the wounds.

"Ouch!" I couldn't help crying. "What is it? I thought that magic wouldn't work."

"It's not magic," Wakan Tanka replied. "It's a simple herbal mix which will ease your pain and help your natural healing."

"Oh. Okay." It was interesting that Wakan Tanka used traditional herbal medicines as well as her magic ones.

"I will teach you when you are healed." She sat upright suddenly, looking around the camp, her eyes narrowed.

"What is it?" I asked, struggling to sit upright but giving up when a sharp pain stabbed through my abdomen.

"Someone approaches." She focused her gaze. "He has been here several times before. He is one who helped you with your ... attack."

"Mister Geintz?" I asked.

"I believe that is his name. Should I let him into the camp?"

I started to snort at the implication, but winced instead at the sudden motion. "I don't know if we could keep him out. Yeah, let's see what he has to say."

Mr. Geintz strolled casually to the fire ring and sat down. "Good evening, Wakan Tanka," he said, surprising me because he'd spoken Lakota.

"When ... when did you learn the language, Mr. Geintz?" I asked, shocked.

Mr. Geintz chuckled. "I always like to learn new things, and since you're rather ... busy ... with security and psychic incidents, I figured it would be helpful sometime in the future. I just didn't expect to need it so soon." He smiled. "And please call me Fubar. Or Foob. It's far less formal."

"I suppose you want to talk about the latest ... incident?" I asked knowingly.

"It had crossed my mind. Do you have any idea who, or what, did it?"

I glanced at Wakan Tanka, and then nodded to him. "It was a spawn of Unhcegila," I replied. "The same one that attacked Debra in the dream world, and Wakan Tanka thinks is the one that corrupted the Mishibijiw."

"The security guard has the same ... feel ... as the Mishibijiw in that attack," Wakan Tanka added.

"That creature ... was contaminated by a Class X entity," Fubar said ominously. "It was insane because of exposure to something very ... nasty."

"What ... what does that mean?"

"It's about as bad as it can get. Worse, Officer Matthews has the same psychic feeling to him. His body is being taken to the Homestake Paranormal Activity Research Center for storage in their deepest, most secure vault."

I looked at Wakan Tanka angrily. "You didn't tell me that part about Unhcegila, or his spawn!" I said accusingly.

"Unhcegila and I are ... enemies," Wakan Tanka admitted softly. "For ages, I have battled to keep the People safe from him, while he exists only to corrupt and devour.

"So I inherited an enemy with major-league bad mojo?" I sighed, shaking my head. "Is this 'taint' you told me about something from Unhcegila's spawn?"

Fubar nodded. "Exposure to the entity contaminated even the ammunition he used, although that could have been done deliberately to stop your regeneration and healing."

"Wihakayda must rest to save her magic energy," Wakan Tanka said, "and I will teach her the spell to purify herself from the taint."

"Can ... this spread?" I asked Fubar and Wakan Tanka, worried.

Fubar shrugged uncertainly, but Wakan Tanka shook her head. "No. It should not be enough to spread to others."

"But until you get rested and clear this ... taint so you recover your regeneration," Fubar said, "you need to stay in Doyle."

***************

Friday, March 23, 2007
Doyle Medical Complex

I was resting, unable to fall back asleep. I don't know if that was because of the dawn sunlight streaming through the windows, or if it was because of what I'd learned the night before. In either case, I hurt, and the wounds weren't healing very quickly. The wound on my side had the same feeling as broken ribs; I guessed - correctly it later turned out - that the bullet had shattered some ribs, while my leg merely felt like a burning steel rod had embedded itself in my outer thigh.

A knock sounded on my door, interrupting my dream-walk. "Come in," I said.

Evvie, Laurie, and Adrian walked cautiously into the room. Evvie looked exhausted, and her cheeks were moist from crying. When she saw that I seemed to be resting comfortably, she dashed to the bed, bent over, and hugged me. "You had us all so worried!"

"How are you feeling?" Laurie asked, going to the other side of my bed.

"I'd be better if you weren't crushing me," I tried to joke to Evvie, wincing from pain. A sudden thought occurred to me. "Can you get my medicine pouch? I hope it's somewhere in here - probably with my clothes."

Evvie disentangled herself from me and looked in a small closet. "Yeah, they're here, but I think this outfit is ruined." She held it out, on the hanger, and I could see the blood stains on the shirt and skirt.

"Is my medicine pouch there?"

"Yeah."

I sighed with relief. "Good. Can you please put it where I can reach it? Wakan Tanka has a ... special ... spell I need to do later."

They visited for a while longer, with Evvie adamantly refusing my plea to get me a clean, unstained outfit, at least not until I was officially released. When a nurse came in with a tray, they remembered that they hadn't eaten yet, but despite that, they had to be chased away. After reluctantly saying their goodbyes, they scurried off to the caf, with the promise that they'd be back to visit as soon as they could.

"You're lucky," the nurse said to me as she set the tray on my bedside table.

"Gee, I really feel it," I said sarcastically.

"The wound in your side didn't hit any organs, so the doctor said you can eat real food instead of being fed through the IV line."

"Wonderful," I grumbled. "Hospital food."

"Or if you're going to be that way about it, I can just feed you through the IV," the nurse said with a wicked grin.

"Uh, no thanks."

"I figured you'd see it my way," the nurse chuckled before leaving.

I was about to eat, but I decided to try the spell first. I made a cup of healing tea to gather a little more essence, and then, alternating between the real world and my dream space, I chanted the spell as I added ingredients into a plastic cup of water.

There was a flash of magic in the cup, and I felt a huge surge of magic through my body when I sipped the drink. "Ugh!" I couldn't help saying; this brew, unlike the other, was quite bitter. Holding my nose, I drank more of the foul-tasting liquid. As with the healing tea, there was no infusion of magic from later drinks, but, just to be sure, I forced myself to down the entire contents.

The only way I could describe the sensation is that I had been dirty without even knowing it, and the brew was like a refreshing shower that left me feeling refreshed and clean. It wasn't until the taint was gone that I realized _how_ tainted I had been. At the same time, I felt tingling warmth in my thigh and in my side; I guessed that, since the taint was gone, my own healing had kicked back in. With regen and some healing potions, I'd be back on my feet in no time; in fact, I already felt quite a bit better, though I knew I hadn't completely healed.

After that refreshing feeling, eating was a pleasure. The fact that I had no internal injuries was a good sign for a quick recovery, or at least as quick as shattered ribs from a glancing shot would heal.

After finishing my breakfast, I sat back, thinking. I didn't know how long they'd keep me now that my healing had kicked back in, but I was missing an Avatars class, and possibly all of my day's classes. Magic - that wasn't going to bother me, because I was catching up quickly. Besides, I didn't really want to face Ayla and Fey. Open fourth period was supposed to have been a meeting with Dr. Quintain about the possible work-study job, but that would have to wait. French - I thought that was hopeless, so missing another day wasn't helping me. There was no power lab on Friday, so I wasn't going to miss anything here. And electronics. That was one class I really wanted to go to.

Of course, I saved the worst for last - Martial Arts, with the tyrannical midget Ito. Sensei Tolman had proven that she wasn't too bad, so I had a twinge of regret for missing that class, but since I'd heard that Ito often had the class spar on Fridays, it wouldn't be too bad if I missed that class.

I lay in my bed, awake, and having nothing to do but think. I turned to the attack the previous night. From the point where Matthews had shot Lindon, there had been enough time for me to get a shield up. But the other day, in martial arts, I'd seen one of the better students disarm and disable another student in the same amount of time it had taken for my spell. Could I have done that? And then, during the chase, there had been times where I could have had the drop on Matthews and struck him, possibly saving me from the gunshots; the stairwells had been a particularly good setup for an ambush. Then he'd run out of bullets and had to reload. During that time, I would have been able to turn the tables - if only....

I'd screwed up. Really screwed up. I was alive because of a few flukes. When he'd taken his rifle off his shoulder, I should have sensed it. Itukala would have, because he would have paid attention to the air and earth spirits, and heard even the tiny rustle of the rifle sling moving against his shirt. I messed up there, and I hadn't taken Tatanka's lessons about the spirits to heart. It had almost cost me. I'd been very fortunate that he'd shot Lindon first; otherwise, I'd have died in the first shots.

As much as I hated admitting it to myself, there was no escaping the conclusion that I _needed_ martial arts. There was something out there that wanted me dead, and I needed every advantage I could get. I _had_ to get serious about self-defense, because I couldn’t always count on being as lucky as I'd been - that time, or during the other attacks. It hit me like a hammer that until I learned to defend myself, I was probably living on borrowed time if luck was the only thing in my arsenal of weapons.

I waited and waited for a doctor to visit so I could find out when I would be able to get out of Doyle and get back to classes, but not even the nurses came in for quite a while, except to take away my tray and to give me another shot of antibiotic. It was time to take matters into my own hands.

I waited for a doctor to come by to release me; after a while, I called a nurse, and when she popped in, I asked, firmly and insistently, that I see a doctor so I could go back to my classes. After all, I _was_ feeling better, and my regen had kicked in. Eventually, I wore them down, most probably because they realized that I was going to be a pest until they _did_ let me go. Caduceus used her healing on me, and she confirmed that my regeneration was healing my wounds. With no danger of my broken ribs puncturing a lung or anything else, and with my leg healed to the point that walking around wouldn't tear it open again, she decided that I was healed enough to go to classes - with the proviso that I didn't do anything too strenuous the rest of the weekend.

My clothes were ruined; Evvie hadn't exaggerated. Even my panties were very blood-stained, like my skirt and blouse. Rather than wait for someone to get me fresh clothing from Poe, I took an old pair of sweats they had in their 'spare clothing' bin and, after a quick review with the nurse and an admonishment to take it easy for the rest of the weekend, to which I paid little attention, I walked out of the medical center. Unfortunately, I still had guards to accompany me, since they hadn't been released by Delarose. I walked briskly to Poe, feeling only a tiny amount of pain in my leg and ribs, but I wanted to minimize how many people saw me having a heavy security escort.

The escort left me once I was safely through the door at Poe, and while some girls and guys were staring strangely at me, Mrs. Horton wasn't around, which was fortunate, because I didn't want to get a lecture from her on taking it easy, and precisely what that meant. I walked upstairs, feeling a little tugging and pain in my thigh, and discovering that moving my hand along the handrail hurt my ribs. Everything hurt my ribs - breathing, moving, twisting, raising or lowering my arm.

It took a little longer to shower and get dressed than I'd planned, since I wasn't supposed to get my dressings wet, and the wounds were still a bit sore, but with another healing spell, I felt better and got myself dressed. A new pair of guards came from Kane to escort me to Laird Hall; it was early, before the first-period class had dismissed, so there weren't a lot of people around to notice me.

Having arrived at the locker room a few minutes ahead of the other girls, I sat down to rest. The injury and healing had left me tired, and now that my body was regenerating, it was using any spare energy I had. After I took a very brief breather, my clothes went onto hangers in my locker, and I began to slip on my gi, cringing a little as I started trying to pull the gi pants onto my injured leg.

The other girls who had come in were changing as well, and they were occasionally looking warily at me. I realized, belatedly, that it was because I had large bandages on my thigh and lower ribcage. Finally, Alicia came over to where I was dressing. "Are ya okay?" she asked, staring directly at my lower torso.

I nodded. "Yeah." I was, wincing a bit from pain in my ribs as I had to twist my shoulder and torso to slide my arms into my gi top. It twinged a little more than I'd expected, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I was pushing too hard. The memory of the brutal attack, and the mocking by the snake demon, though, put an end to those thoughts. I needed to be prepared for the next time we met.

"The rumor is that you were in Doyle because you'd been pretty badly hurt," she continued.

"Yeah, but I'm okay," I replied defensively.

"Are you sure?" she asked again. "Cuz if you were in Doyle, you'd be excused from class."

Charge came to join the little concern-fest. "Are you sure you want to go to class, Kayda? You look pretty weak, and you're moving like you are 'urt."

"I'm fine." I was very surprised to see her expressing concern. She'd been so arrogant and snobbish toward me in powers classes that her concern was totally unexpected. When I saw Charge also staring at the bandages, I quickly closed my gi, then I winced slightly at the twinge from cinching the belt. I sat down again, waiting for the mildly throbbing pain to ease, while the two girls watched me with concern, not believing my assurances.

After a few moments of watching me, Alicia and Charge, shaking their heads, walked out of the locker room to join the other girls on the mats. Fatigued from the long night and regeneration, I lurched awkwardly to my feet, grimacing, and went out to join the others. All eyes seemed to be on me as I lowered myself to seiza position, a task that was more difficult with the injuries that weren't yet fully healed; I seemed to be sweating a bit more than usual. I couldn't help but wonder what the rumor-mill was saying about my injuries.

Sensei Ito strode confidently to the mat, pausing to look at me as if he didn't expect me to be in my gi and in position. He didn't frown at me, which I figured was about as much approval as I was ever going to get from him, and then he addressed the class. Because Sensei Tolman was attending to unexpected business, we would have two students from his Aikido II class assisting, and we were going to spar. Sensei Tolman had told me that I wouldn't have to spar for a couple of weeks, so that I could learn some basics first. That was fine with me; my leg and ribs were shooting me an occasional twinge to remind me that they still hurt a bit. Without having to spar, I would be sitting for the class, although I'd be sitting seiza, which put a little extra strain on my thigh. Sitting still would also minimize pain in my ribs. I could watch and learn from the other students' sparring matches.

Class began, though, with a demonstration by Ito. My stomach knotted when I saw Ayla and Hank walk onto the mat toward Ito, taking positions behind him on either side, seeming to indicate that they'd be part of the class instruction or demonstrations.

"Phase is an exemplar, and thus much stronger than a baseline," Ito explained. "Lancer is a PK brick. Since some of you need reminders that powers are not necessary to fight, I will demonstrate fighting two much stronger opponents. They will not be using all of their powers, but they are nevertheless much stronger and much less vulnerable than me." Ito nodded to the two, who stepped to the center ring.

When Ito called, "Hajime," the two Kimbas separated, intending to attack Ito from two sides to keep him off balance. Ito took that initiative away from them, darting at Ayla in a flurry of punches and kicks to keep Ayla off balance. Of course, given this, Hank closed in behind Ito to strike. It seemed to me that hitting from behind was a little unsporting, but Hank wasn't bothered by rules of politeness in the sparring ring.

Ito seemed to know when Hank would hit. A half-twist of his body, and he was positioned to not only block Hank's strike, but also to step into Hank and use his own momentum against him, neatly throwing Hank over his hip, right into Ayla, who'd been using the attack from Hank to initiate his own strike. Ayla was knocked backwards, but recovered enough to stay in the ring - barely.

The fight continued like that for several more seconds; each time it looked like Hank and Ayla had an advantage, Ito turned it against the duo, using them to interfere with each other's attacks. In one case, Ayla was grappled and twisted, off balance, right into a side kick from Hank, and with a little extra help from Ito, Ayla landed with a thud outside the ring. Seconds later, Hank joined him.

They rose and bowed to Ito, and then stepped back behind him while Ito turned to face us. "Until Sensei Tolman returns from her meeting," he began, looking pointedly at me and making me squirm, "Phase will referee the beginners sparring matches, while Lancer will spar against the advanced students. To your groups."

I sighed with relief; I was far from an advanced student, and I really, really couldn't have sparred against Lancer, but that seemed almost preferable to having to deal with Ayla. Unfortunately, either was a bad choice, and it wasn't mine to make. Ito and Tolman had assigned me, quite properly I had to admit, to the beginner group that Ayla was assisting.

I cautiously levered myself off the floor and followed Phase, with Rip, Murphy, and the other beginners, to one side of the mats. I thought Alicia was looking at me with concern written on her face, but I convinced myself that it was probably my imagination. Besides, I wasn't limping, and my range of motion with my torso was improving as my regeneration slowly worked.

Warm-up wasn't much fun, because stretching hurt more than usual. My ribs hurt with a dull ache, which reminded me with a sharp stab of pain when I twisted or flexed my torso more than a little bit. I could also feel the stitches in my leg being pulled taut when I stretched my leg. I had counted on my healing spells helping heal and dull the pain, but it wasn't as effective as I thought it would be.

We knelt again, while Charge sparred with Lifeline, and then Alicia sparred with Rip. Then, to my surprise, Ayla called me to spar against Murphy. Watching Ayla warily, and feeling the twinges of pain, I stood up cautiously, wincing a couple of times as the injuries objected to my movement, and I walked slowly to the edge of the ring, trying my best to avoid visibly limping. Opposite me, Murphy took her position, and we bowed. I gasped slightly at the pain that radiated from my ribs with the simple act of bowing. Maybe this _wasn't_ a good idea. No, there were no maybes about it - this definitely _wasn't_ a good idea.

"Hajime!" Ayla commanded.

I dropped to a front stance immediately, and I cautiously approached Murphy, who was doing the same. She struck first, throwing a straight punch, which I moved to block. The sudden motion of sweeping my left arm up and out to block the punch caused pain to explode in my injured side, and because of that, I didn't complete the block, and Murphy tagged the side of my jaw. I staggered back a bit, straining my leg, and then I jabbed to counterattack, but the suddenly-increased pain was slowing me down so much that Murphy was able to easily block the blow. She swung again, this time with a ridge-hand strike aimed at my neck. I twisted, again feeling stabbing in both my leg and my ribs, and sort-of blocked her blow, but I deflected it upwards, and her hand hit my head - hard.

Through a red mist of pain, I noticed that Murphy was off-balance a little, having over-extended herself for the strike; without thinking, I shifted my balance and started a front-kick with my right leg. My actions, though, were slow and tentative because I had the constant throbbing in the leg I was trying to balance on and in my left lower ribcage.

Murphy easily deflected my kick to one side, grasping my ankle and yanking me off balance. I twisted to pull my leg free before she could punch or kick at me, and in doing so, I felt tearing in my left leg, accompanied by searing pain. I stumbled back, off balance, limping, and trying not to cry out in pain, and as a result, I couldn't move quickly enough to block a back fist which caught me in the jaw. I staggered a bit, unsteadily, because my leg and ribs were really hurting. Murphy followed with a jab that I was lucky enough to deflect right into my ribcage, causing me to reel in agony.

I don't know when Sensei Tolman came back from her meeting, because frankly, I'd been trying to survive a sparring match. "Kayda!" she shouted loudly across the gym. Distracted, I glanced toward the voice. Since no-one had told her to stop, Murphy saw her opening, and she started a roundhouse kick to follow up her punch, taking advantage of my being off balance and the distraction from Sensei Tolman.

"Yame!" Tolman called sharply and frantically as soon as she saw what was transpiring, and she began to run toward our sparring circle.

It was too late - Murphy's kick smashed into my thigh, and with pain exploding and stitches tearing free, I crumpled like rag doll as my leg gave way beneath me. My arms flailed in a futile effort to stop my fall, and I smashed to the ground on my injured left side, my left arm beneath my body with my own elbow crashing into my battered ribcage. I heard a scream that seemed a long ways off, but I knew that it was me making the loud noise, while my head was suddenly immersed in a red fog of agony. I struggled to push the pain down, and with tears on my cheeks, I struggled unsuccessfully to roll over so I could stand.

"Kayda, are you okay?" I heard Tolman's voice penetrating the fog.

Grimacing at the intense pain, I pushed myself up, crying out again when a red-hot poker stabbed into my leg again and my ribs shot pain through every nerve in my torso. Still, I had to get up. Painfully, wincing and moaning in pain, I struggled to get to my knees.

"Kayda, stop!" Sensei Tolman said as she knelt beside me, fearing perhaps that I was going to stand up.

Slowly, things were coming back into focus as the stabbing pain turned into a steady ache that registered only eleven on the pain scale. Breathing hurt, moving my torso in the slightest hurt, kneeling hurt. Thinking about the pain hurt. Everything hurt.

Ito had stopped what he was doing and had run over, staring wide-eyed at me. I realized that everyone else was also looking at me, or more specifically, around my waist. Slowly, so as not to induce any more pain, I looked down and gasped; the sudden intake of air hurt my ribs. My gi pants had a shiny, wet, red spot on them from where blood was oozing out of my re-opened leg wound, and higher up, there was a smaller but spreading crimson stain on my top. I looked up again, and saw Ayla staring at me, stunned at what he saw.

"Phase," Sensei Tolman barked, "Kayda is not supposed to be sparring!" She looked absolutely aghast at what had happened.

Ayla looked horrified and full of self-recrimination. "I ... I didn't know!" he stammered. "It wasn't marked on the instruction sheet I was given," Ayla protested weakly, his voice cracking.

"It is not your fault, Phase," Ito said firmly to calm Ayla. "As Sensei, it is my responsibility that a student was injured." He glanced at me, and I thought the look he shot my direction was uncalled for, implying with his icy glare that seemed to imply that it was _my_ fault. "Advanced students, back to the ring to complete class."

Sensei Tolman cradled my torso and gently rolled me to my back. "Stay still, Kayda," she said firmly. "What are you doing here? You know better than to do _any_ exercise with gunshot wounds." There was a collective gasp from the gathered beginners at her words.

It took a second for her words to penetrate the agony that was throbbing from my body up to my brain. "I ... I _have_ to learn!" I protested softly. "I have to be able to defend myself."

"You can't do that if you're injured," Tolman countered sharply.

"I ... I almost got killed several times ..." I stammered, fighting back tears of frustration and pain, "because I don't know _how_ to fight! I _need_ to know how."

"And we're teaching you. You just have to be patient."

"So the next one can succeed in killing me before I learn enough to defend myself?" I cried. "Do you know how many times someone has tried to kill me in the last month?"

"I know of four," Sensei Tolman answered, looking grim.

"Six, not four," I corrected her, which elicited another loud collective gasp from the girls around us.

"You won't help yourself learn if you do something stupid like this," Sensei chided me. "You risked getting a more permanent injury, or setting back your recovery by days, if not weeks." She shook her head. "You should have told Ito Soke that you were injured, and you shouldn't have tried to actively participate. You should have told Phase that my instructions were that you weren't ready for sparring yet."

"But ... it's not ..."

"No 'buts', Kayda. You have a responsibility to let your instructors know of your physical condition. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sensei," I said, blushing with embarrassment, because I knew that she was absolutely right.

Tolman sighed, shaking her head slowly. "At least you're finally getting enthusiastic about learning, which is a change for the better." She glanced around the beginners, who were still around us. "Rip, Headrush, go call Doyle and get help sent over here. Tell them Kayda reinjured herself."

***************

Doyle Medical Complex

"Kayda," Mrs. Shugendo said, staring at me and shaking her head with frustration, "what am I going to do with you?"

"I'm sorry," I said, looking down at my hands in my lap. I was back in Doyle since I'd torn all my stitches open and had broken a rib which had been merely cracked before. "I ... I thought I was healed enough to do some light training in martial arts."

"And if you'd have asked me or Sensei Ito, we'd have sidelined you," Sensei Tolman scolded me. "You know I didn't want you sparring until you learned some basics."

"I was instructed to spar," I protested in my own defense.

Sam Everheart was also sitting by my bed in Doyle. "After being shot twice, you shouldn't have been in any physical activities for two or three weeks. You can't learn to defend yourself if you reinjure yourself before you heal."

"I ...." I looked down, knowing they were right, and that I'd done something very stupid. "I need to know how to fight, to defend myself," I said softly. "I got lucky too many times. One of these days, my luck is going to run out." I sighed heavily. "I just ...." I shook my head. "I don't want to have to rely on everyone else to protect me."

"That's a much better attitude than fighting against Sensei Ito and Sensei Tolman, or trying to get Mrs. Hawkins to let you drop martial arts," Mrs. Shugendo said with a slight chuckle, trying to break the somber mood. I looked up, feeling a little hopeful. "But it doesn't excuse a stupid stunt like this," she added, making her disapproval abundantly clear.

"No, ma'am." I hung my head, embarrassed.

"The problem," Sam observed, looking directly at me, "is to get you competent as possible, as quickly as possible, and in as many disciplines as possible, so you _can_ defend yourself."

Mrs. Shugendo sighed and shook her head. "That's your instructors' problem," she said directing the comment toward Sensei Tolman. "Any ideas?"

Sensei Tolman looked at me. "Have you got any free periods?" she asked me.

"Fourth, but I was going to do work-study with Dr. Quintain during that time." I watched Sensei Tolman as she thought; one could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"You're thinking of something?" Mrs. Shugendo asked.

The sensei nodded. "I'll talk with Ito Soke, but I think he'll agree that we can put Kayda in advanced Aikido for a few weeks, and rotate the more experienced students through instructing her."

"Will he go for that? It will distract from the current students."

Sensei Tolman chuckled. "Ito was the one who told me, years ago and quite repeatedly, that part of learning is teaching. He'll go for it."

"Sam, can we get Kayda a crash course in firearm safety and whatever else is necessary for her to carry on campus?" Mrs. Shugendo asked.

Sam nodded. "I'll talk to Gunny and make arrangements." She turned to me. "You realize that with all this emphasis on self-defense training, you're going to be giving up a lot of your free time."

I snorted. "What free time? When I haven't been here or in Security, I'm doing homework to catch up." I saw the look of disapproval on Mrs. Shugendo's face at my sarcastic joke. "Okay, I'll stop being snarky." She seemed mollified by that. "Yeah, that's reasonable."

Sam glanced at Mrs. Shugendo, who nodded. "Since Louis and Dr. Bellows agree that there's no longer a suicide threat, I think that Kayda should get her knife back, too."

"Okay." It was very difficult to not be excited by that; I'd felt naked without Wakan Mila. As Wakan Tanka had told me, I'd magically bonded with the knife.

"But I still want her escorted everywhere she goes," Mrs. Shugendo said in a steely tone. "What else can we do?"

I pondered whether I should mention what my spirit had requested, and then decided that this was as good an opportunity as any. "Wakan Tanka wants me to learn traditional Native American weapons and combat forms and skills that she thinks might be helpful."

"That might be a tough one," Mrs. Shugendo said. "Let me make some inquiries to see if I can find a suitable tutor." She glanced at Sensei Tolman. "Amanda, you can get back to your class. If you need or think of anything more, let me know ASAP."

Amanda Tolman nodded, and then departed, leaving me, Sam, and Mrs. Shugendo. A moment later, we were joined by Fubar. There followed a very detailed discussion about the snake demon, and what I knew about him. At Wakan Tanka's urging, I became Ptesanwi, which surprised Mrs. Shugendo and Sam; Fubar had seen me merge before, so he just smiled knowingly as Sam and Mrs. Shugendo tried to not show their shock. With us joined as Ptesanwi and channeling Wakan Tanka, we were able to speak more authoritatively about Unhcegila and his spawn.

We saw much concern on the faces around us as we told what we knew of Unhcegila, which was quite a bit. Despite the efforts of many warriors over the years, none had managed to kill Unhcegila because of how dangerous he was; even his spawn were terrible foes in battle, destroying nearly all of those who'd set out to slay them.

From a very careful psychic examination of the corpse of Officer Matthews, Fubar knew the psychic signature of possession by the snake demon, so he would be able to monitor for signs of another attempted possession. The magical wards around the school should keep anything physical away from Whateley. I _should_ be safe. Safer. Of course, I should have been safe in the first place.

"Is there anything else?" Mrs. Shugendo asked, signaling an end to the discussion.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "If I promise not to do anything physical, can I get back to classes after lunch?"

Mrs. Shugendo rolled her eyes in disbelief at my comment. "No," she said firmly.

"But ...."

"No. You're going to be a special student in fourth period martial arts, and knowing how ... stubborn you can be, you'll probably go to class and overdo it again," Mrs. Shugendo said firmly.

"I promise ..."

"To stay here and rest, and take your French class remotely," Mrs. Shugendo directed. "And then, if Dr. Tenent is satisfied, she'll let you return to your last class for the day."

"Okay," I agreed unhappily. I might have been able to weasel out of directions from the doctors, but Mrs. Shugendo was the third highest authority, and she acted like she knew, probably from first-hand information from Mom, that I had a tendency to stretch instructions and directions to suit my own goals. She wasn't going to give me any wiggle room.

************

"Wakan Tanka," I asked, sitting by the fire, "why does Unhcegila's spawn come after me so relentlessly?"

"Because, child," my spirit said calmly, "Unhcegila knows that you will be a powerful Ptesanwi when you grow and learn. He seeks to destroy you before you have enough power to stop him."

"I feel vulnerable," I confessed, looking down at the ground. "I don't know much, and I can't stop him."

"The chief of this school has a plan to help you learn more quickly," she replied. "It is as good as you are going to be able to do."

"I ... I don't think I can handle the advanced martial arts class," I stammered after thinking a bit. "I barely know anything from the basic class."

"The wauspewichakhiya sapa, your instructor, has a plan to help you learn quickly."

"I ... I don't think I can learn in a class that is that advanced."

"Think of the trials, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said. "How does a young man train to face the trials? Does he train and fight with other children?"

"No," I answered. "He trains and learns from warriors who have proven their skill."

"The wauspewichakhiya sapa knows this. She wants you to train against experienced braves, not against other children."

"But ... I can't win against them if we spar!" I protested. "I know so little compared to the advanced students."

"Of course you won't win, not at first. No warrior does. But through diligent training, you _will_ learn how to win by practicing, making mistakes, and learning from your errors."

"It seems so ... overwhelming."

"And it does to any young man when he begins to train to be a warrior. So it is with you. But you must be persistent and eager to learn."

"I suppose."

"Now, there is one more lesson you must learn for the day, a very important lesson."

I sighed. "Is this where Tatanka leads me out to meet another animal spirit?"

Wakan Tanka laughed. "No. Even in the dream world, you must rest. The spirit you must learn from is in our village."

"Another mouse?" I asked sarcastically.

"No." As she spoke, a dog came running to me. He was a mutt, a brownish-grey dog about halfway between a beagle and a German shepherd in size. There was something about his expression that made it impossible to feel gruff or angry. His eyes were bright and cheerful, and he panted like he was eager to please whomever he met.

"Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said, "this is Suka."

"You want me to learn ... from a dog spirit?" I asked incredulously.

"Suka is more than just a dog," Wakan Tanka chided me. "Your Kusi, your grandmother, must not have taught you of the role of Suka in the lives of the People."

"No."

"Before the coming of the horse, the dog helped pull the travois when we moved camp. The dog helped hunt, helping to drive the buffalo over the cliff jumps or toward the hunters. The dog was a guard, helping watch over the village at night and during the day, wary of strangers and intruders, alerting the village to danger. Suka is very important spirit to the People."

"Oh. I, uh, didn't know that."

"Now you do," Suka said to me, nuzzling me like a big puppy.

"What do you have to teach me?" I asked as I scratched behind his ears, just like our farm-dog Boo used to love. In return, he licked my wrist in appreciation.

"I am a guardian, a watcher for danger. You, too are a guardian."

"Humpphh," I snorted. "Some guardian. I'm the one being attacked all the time. I'm the one who needs a guardian."

"No, Wihakayda, you are learning to be a guardian," Suka replied. "You need to use your senses to alert you to danger. And you _will be_ a guardian."

"Guardian of what?"

"Did you not enter the world of dark dreams to protect your beloved? Did you not risk your life for hers? Did you not use your magic to keep her safe?" Suka asked knowingly.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Even now, untrained, you are a guardian, and you will become a greater guardian. That is Ptesanwi's role - to watch and protect the People." He looked at me with sad eyes. "Did not Wakan Tanka tell you that?"

I started to deny it, but then I remembered that she _had_ so informed me. "Yeah," I muttered. "She did."

"Is a guardian always loved by those who he watches?"

"Uh, I'm guessing 'no', because of the way you worded the question."

Suka chuckled. "No, he is not. A guardian must use powerful force to protect his wards, but when there is no danger, that same power can frighten them. A guardian directs those who he guards to do or to not do certain things to protect them. Sometimes, those being protected fear the power of their guardian. The sheepdog is a cousin to the wolf, even though he protects the sheep. When there is no threat, the sheep may begin to fear the sheepdog because he reminds them of the dangerous wolf. Sometimes, those being guarded don't always listen, and they rebel against the guardian."

I thought of Mom and Dad, always setting rules that my brother and I didn't understand and didn't like. _We_ rebelled against the rules frequently, and sometimes resented our parents for setting such rules. "Yeah. I guess I did that to my parents, too."

"But your parents, your guardians, didn't cease in their duties, did they?"

"No."

"Because they knew their roles as protectors and guardians. They didn't take the disagreements personally, but instead continued to watch and guard and love their charges."

"But ... what does that have to do with me here and now?" I asked, puzzled.

"In a way, your instructors are your guardians. But you disagree with them, and rebel against their directions, right?"

I hung my head in shame, nodding slowly. "Yes.

"Do you think they take your rebellion and disagreement personally?" Suka asked. He lay down beside me, his head in my lap. "Or do they continue to do their job, like proper guardians?"

"They ... do their jobs, regardless," I answered softly.

"What happens if you neglect or yell at a dog? Does he sulk and rebel? Does he run away? Does he deliberately disobey you more?"

"No."

"That is because a dog _is_ unconditional love and forgiveness," Suka explained. "He serves his role, sometimes overlooked, sometimes chastised, but always, he loves those he serves. If a person strikes him, he doesn't strike back, but instead forgives and continued to offer his companionship and his love, right? He has to; he could not be a good guardian if he didn't."

"Why?" I was confused again. "They hurt him. They wronged him."

"Think of his role - he carries the burdens of the hunt and the gathering back to the village. When the village moves, he carried the dwellings from place to place. Is that not enough of a burden to carry without also carrying resentment and anger in his heart?"

I sat silently, contemplating his words, unable to reply or protest because his words struck a little too close to home. I _was_ carrying a burden of anger. But they deserved it. Didn't they? I was starting to have my doubts.

"To lighten your burden in life, you must be as the dog. You must shed the load of resentment and anger through forgiving those who wronged you," Suka explained patiently. "What would happen if a dog did not forgive?" he continued.

"Uh, I suppose he'd get angrier."

Suka nodded, pausing to move his head so I was scratching under his chin. "Eventually, one would destroy the other, and neither would gain. The People would lose companions, and guardians, and those to share their burdens. Suka would lose companionship and a community to belong to."

"So, you're telling me that I have to forgive ... Fey and Ayla?"

Suka chuckled. "No. I tell you what Suka does. It is up to you to heed my lesson or not."

"It's ... it's hard!" I protested. "Fey really endangered me and Debra, and Ayla ... makes me panic because of what happened to me."

Suka looked up at me with his big brown doggie eyes. "You must decide for yourself what to do." Suka stood. "I must get back to my duties of watching the village. But remember, Wihakayda, your burdens are already heavy without adding to them." With that, he left, padding softly across the earth to begin his patrol around camp.

************

Doyle Medical Complex

I was bored out of my mind during fourth period, and remote French class was a royal pain in the rear, so by the time Dr. Tenent came around to check on me, I was more than ready to get out of Doyle. She checked, and my regeneration and her healing had obviated the need for the stitches, so she removed them. With the proviso that I do nothing physically demanding for the rest of the weekend, she discharged me and got me an escort back to Poe, where I worked on catching up on my classwork, especially those that I'd missed that day.

Electronics was fun; with the independent study format, my gadgeteer trait and math skills made it easy for me to catch up. Of course, Delwin had volunteered - several times each class - to help me with labs and to offer study time; I was polite, and did let him help with one lab, even though I didn't really need the assistance. It didn't hurt to be polite to him; I'd been an outsider once, and besides, having friends was nice. I was only hoping that I wasn't leading him on, because I really had no interest in being anything other than a friend.

I didn't know where Evvie was hanging out before dinner, so I sat on my bed, my back against a pillow, reading my magic arts textbook and thinking, although to be perfectly honest, I was doing more of the latter than the former. My first week of classes had been interesting, to say the least, although the next week should be considerably better, since I was out of algebra, power theory, and English, and I got my avatars class. It had taken a bit to overcome my stubborn-ness, but I had a much better attitude about martial arts, even though it was going to be a challenge, and I still considered Ito to be a rude, miniature tyrant.

And the lessons from Wakan Tanka and Tatanka? I'd met and seen quite a few animal spirits, and upon reflection, when I listened to them and modeled their traits, I had better days than when I ignored their wise lessons. I thought about the ones I'd I talked to so far - Maka, the skunk, Hehaka, the elk, Ptan the otter and Ithunkasan the weasel, Itukala the mouse, and Suka the dog. The lessons were pretty common-sense, but I'd been ignoring them somewhat. I knew that, over the weekend, I was going to have some long conversations with Debra, and maybe I should ask her about those lessons.

At the thought of Debra, I glanced up at my poster and smiled. Her bright, cheery smile made me feel like she was hugging me, and I practically purred contentedly. After a break, as I walked back in to the room, I frowned when I looked again. The poster seemed a little tilted, which surprised me; Mom would have been very particular about hanging the poster for me. I climbed up on my bed, and when I lifted a corner of the poster to adjust its position, I was surprised to see that the tape wasn't adhered very well.

I climbed down and got a roll of tape from my desk, and then, after taking down the poster and peeling the existing tape from it, I made new tape loops and fastened them to the back of the poster before climbing back onto my bed to rehang it.

A knock sounded at my door as I stood, trying to gauge how level and centered the picture were.

"Come in," I replied to the knock, still focused on the poster.

The door opened, and I heard the guest walk in and stop. "If you want it centered, it needs to move about an inch and a half to the left."

I tensed at the sound of Ayla's voice. I hadn't expected him to be hanging around the cottage. "Okay," I answered in as neutral a tone as I could, all the while thinking about what Suka had told me. I moved the poster a bit, as he'd indicated. "How's that?"

"That looks good," Ayla answered.

I pressed the corners of the poster firmly against the wall, and then climbed off my bed, looking critically at the poster, and studiously avoiding looking at Ayla until I'd sat in my chair. "Is there something you need?" I asked, again trying to be neutral.

"I've been trying to talk to you for a couple of days," Ayla said, sitting in Evvie's chair. "I get the very distinct impression that there's something wrong between us, especially after this morning."

I felt my shoulders tense. "Um," I stammered, stalling so I could figure out what to say. A month ago, I would never have felt as intimidated in a potentially confrontational discussion, but now I was trembling inside, possibly to the extent that it was visible externally. "I don't know," I lied, looking down at the floor.

"I owe you an apology for what happened in martial arts," Ayla said without prompting.

"Uh, it wasn't your fault," I replied quickly.

"Yes, it was. I was in charge of the group, and it was my responsibility to know any restrictions or limitations." His voice sounded more than a little heavy under the burden of responsibility. "It _was_ my fault. I'm sorry you were injured because of my negligence."

"It wasn't your fault. You can't know what Ito and Tolman don't tell you," I said, surprising myself because I was defending Ayla from responsibility for the morning's accident.

"Well, just so you know, Ito chewed me out royally for not noticing that you were injured before you even started, and for not noticing that your injuries were hampering you and stopping the match," Ayla said in a tone that told me that he _did_ still think it was his fault, and Ito agreed.

"Ito was responsible for class, not you," I reiterated.

"Ito was blaming himself for a student being injured in his class."

"Yeah, right!" I snorted.

"He takes instructing very serious," Ayla continued, "even if he is a pain in the ass. He doesn't like it when his students get hurt, especially when an injury was preventable. Like yours was."

"It wasn't Ito's fault, or your fault, for that matter, that a guard flipped out and tried to kill me," I retorted.

"That's what my sources told me. Are you okay?"

I nodded, still avoiding Ayla's gaze. "Yeah. They had to operate last night, because something was interfering with my healing and regen. After we got that cleaned up, Dr. Tenent made me suffer through a few hours of rest and regen, plus a healing spell." I shrugged. "I'm not supposed to do anything physical today, but I should be completely healed by tomorrow. I can always do a healing spell on myself if I need to."

"Good. If there's anything you need ...."

Still not looking at Ayla, I shook my head. "No. I'm okay."

"Is something else bothering you?" Ayla asked hesitantly. "Maybe ... the morning routine?"

I sighed. "I'm ... trying," I said, my voice quavering slightly. "I .... It's not fair to ask everyone else to change their routines because of ...."

"I can adjust my schedule," Ayla began.

I shook my head. "No. I've got to learn - eventually. So I'm not paralyzed by this ... by my PTSD." My eyes felt misty because I felt helpless against the PTSD, enslaved to the traumatic memories and afraid that I'd never be normal again.

"Are you sure? It seems like it's my fault."

"No," I answered, trying to assure Ayla. "I'm trying to get over it."

"Did I do something that made you want to sit with Tansy in magic yesterday? And made you and Nikki glaring at each other, and why you didn't wait to walk with us to lunch?"

"It's nothing you did. Not directly, anyway." I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a couple of slow, deep breaths to try to clear my thinking. "Besides, I shouldn't get pissed at you for sticking up for your teammate," I added. "You're supposed to do that, no matter what."

I could practically hear Ayla frowning. "What's going on between the two of you?"

I shook my head, still not feeling like looking at Ayla. "It's ... it doesn't matter."

"Does this have anything to do with yesterday morning?"

"Ya think?" I blurted, staring with a look of bewilderment that he'd even think of asking something so obvious. As soon as I realized what I'd done, I lowered my gaze once more, shaking my head slowly. "Among other things, that wasn't exactly nice of her."

"You should talk with her. She's kind of confused about what's going on. "

"She shouldn't be," I explained. "It was her fault, not mine. Both times!"

Ayla sat silently for a moment or two. "Why don't you talk to her?"

I sighed heavily. "Why? So she can blame me instead of apologizing? Or so she can tear up my privacy again?" I shook my head. "I ... I know I should," I admitted softly, "but to be honest, she, and the Sidhe queen intimidate me."

"You two need to work this out. And ...." Ayla's voice trailed off, and I could tell there was something he wasn't saying. "You need to talk to her so you can work this out. It's important to both of you, more-so than you know."

"Are you taking Dr. Bellows' job, too?" As soon as the words had left my mouth, I regretted them. "Sorry," I muttered. "That wasn't fair of me."

Ayla thought silently a bit. "Leaving Nikki out of it, are you and I back on speaking terms?"

"I don't see how we can leave Nikki out of it. I mean, you have to be loyal to your team-mates, right?"

Ayla chuckled. "There's a difference between being loyal, and blindly defending a team-mate who's doing something wrong or stupid. I've always found that those who put their blind faith in someone else inevitably find trouble. So, are we okay?"

I looked at Ayla for a few seconds. "Yeah, I suppose we are," I admitted. Surprisingly, those few words seemed to remove a burden of anger and resentment from me, just like Suka had told me. But Fey's case wasn't going to be so easy to forgive. Not when she was so damned intimidating that I didn't know how to talk to her.

"Good. Let's get to why I came to talk to you. Ms. Bell sent me, actually."

That surprised me. "Oh?"

Ayla chuckled. "She said that you were working as a TA in the math department, and that you'd be my tutor for a little experiment in accelerated math."

I frowned. "I hadn't agreed to be a TA yet," I replied, "let alone agreed to advanced math tutoring."

Ayla's eyebrows rose. "I was told that you _had_ agreed."

I sat back in my chair, staring impassively at Ayla as I crossed my arms. I winced when I had to adjust my arm position under my breasts to finish crossing them. As I did that, I stared at Ayla as if daring him to make any kind of smart-ass comment about my reaction. "What is it you're trying to accelerate?"

"Right now, I'm in pre-calc," Ayla replied. "I'd like to try to finish calculus 1 this term, so that in the fall term, I can take some business classes that have that as a pre-requisite."

"And I was volunteered to help you with this little ... experiment?"

"Actually," Ayla said with a wry grin, "when I learned of your math background, I pressed Ms. Bell to accept that solution."

I chuckled. "She _did_ say that there were some problematic students who they needed help with, but I didn't think she meant you."

Ayla glanced at his watch. "Do you want to see if Ms. Bell is still in her office?"

"Why do I get the feeling that you already know that she's in her office, and that she's expecting us?" I looked at Ayla, and although he'd carefully schooled his features to be as neutral and impassive as possible, it was still possible to read hints of his underlying thoughts. "You're excited about getting ahead in math, aren't you?" I asked in a tone that sounded more like an accusation than a question.

Ayla smiled sheepishly. "Maybe."

Ms. Bell _was_ expecting us. I frowned at that; she'd obviously predicted, accurately, that I'd go for a tutoring opportunity, although she didn't know about the tension between Ayla and me. Ayla _had_ known that there was tension, and while he hadn't known exactly what it was, he'd been confident enough to ask Ms. Bell to meet us late on Friday afternoon.

The upshot was that during sixth period on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when Ayla wasn't in physics lab and I wasn't in powers lab, we'd get together to review material. Those were also the designated times when he'd take tests in the math building, and I would review lessons, plans, and such with Ms. Bell. Ayla was thrilled much more than he was letting on that he'd get pre-calc and calculus 1 out of the way in the spring term, and while I was nervous about working with Ayla, I was a bit excited about getting a chance to tutor.

***************

Crystal Hall

I was about to get up to bus my tray when Vasiliy asked, "Are you going to the movie tonight?" It was a general question for the group.

I shrugged. "Probably not. I've still got a lot of catching up to do, and ...." I didn't want to admit that I was nervous about being in public, nor had I completely adjusted to being a girl. Classes were somehow different, but the thought of being out and about in a casual setting was quite intimidating. "How about you?"

Vasiliy shrugged. "Haven't decided yet."

"Which means that Chat Bleu hasn't turned you down yet," Naomi giggled.

Vasiliy blushed a bit, which meant that Naomi had nailed it. "Are you going?" he tried to change the subject.

Naomi didn't have to look at Evvie. "Nah. I'm just going to put in a DVD and make some popcorn. I feel a little blah tonight."

Laurie piped in, "We're going to Dunwich to a movie," she said, holding Adrian's hand. She eyed me for a moment. "You want to come, Kayda?"

I saw a flash of disappointment on Adrian's face; it was clear that the last thing he wanted was a third wheel to interfere with his date. But he was too polite to say anything to me about it. "Nah," I answered.

"Besides," Evvie chimed in, giving me a wink, "I don't think Kayda could get a pass from admin or security, given how much she's been in trouble this week."

"Oh, very funny!" I retorted before sticking my tongue out at her, which got a few giggles from around the table.

"What _are_ you going to do?" Evvie asked seriously.

My mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. I honestly didn't know what I was going to do, except be in my room, alone. "I ... I don't know," I mumbled, suddenly feeling the awkwardness of the moment as my eyes moistened without warning. I knew I wouldn't go to the movie here in Crystal Hall, because I didn't know that many people who would be going, and I wasn't going to the movie in Poe; it was an 'alternative love story' where, most likely, all of the girls who went would be there with partners. I'd be alone there, too, even surrounded by others.

I quickly chanted my ghost-walking spell and dashed away from the table, running outside, and then away from the crystal dome. The enormity of my situation had hit me like a hammer; despite having some friends, when it came down to activities on weekends, I still felt alone.

I eventually found a spot against a tree on a low hill, where I could overlook the central part of campus with all the office and classroom buildings; the lights in Crystal Hall shone brightly, giving the dome a sparkly look almost like a Christmas ornament, and here and there, lights shone in a few office windows of the buildings. With a slight turn, I could see Dickinson cottage, and beyond it, the top of Whitman. Overhead, the stars twinkled in the cloudless sky, and a sliver of the silvery moon shone down very dimly, casting almost no illumination on the peaceful scene below.

I slowly realized that my friends, startled by my emotional reaction, were probably going to start looking for me, especially since Evvie, as an empath, could sense my loneliness and sadness. I couldn't let them waste their evenings because _I_ felt morose. "Tatanka!" I beckoned my furry companion.

The white buffalo appeared immediately beside me. "Yes, Wihakayda?" he asked.

"I want you to go find Evvie, and tell her that I said they should go ahead with their plans, that I don't want them to change their activities because of me."

He stared at me for a few moments. "They are your friends. They are very likely worried about you."

I shook my head. "Tell them ... tell them that I wanted some quiet time to reflect, and that I'm ...." I looked down for a moment. "Tell them I'm talking with animal spirits."

"That would be lying," Tatanka chided me.

"I don't care! I don't want them changing their plans just because I'm alone," I said, wiping at the renewed tears. "They've got their friends, and their plans, and they should have fun."

"But Wihakayda ...," Tatanka began.

"Do it!" I ordered him. The white, furry guy stared at me for several seconds, and then shambled off to complete the errand I'd given him. I drew my knees up to my chest, crossed my arms on my knees, and let my head rest on my forearms as tears dripped from my eyes.

A little while later, I felt Tatanka in my head again.

"Did you find them?" I asked bluntly.

"Yes," Tatanka answered. "And I delivered your message."

"And?"

"They are not happy that you ran off. They are worried about you."

"But are they going through with their original plans?" I asked, sensing that the was hedging.

"There were others with them, planning a search to find you, to make sure you were safe."

I glared at the white bison. "Did you tell them that I _am_ safe, and that I want them to have their own fun?"

"Yes."

"Are they going to?"

Tatanka sighed. "Adrian and Laurie got on the shuttle bus to Dunwich," he reported. "Vasiliy was going to try to talk Chat Bleu into going to the movie in the dining hall with him."

"Evvie and Naomi?" I asked bluntly.

"There were others at the table with them, who'd come to look for you, apparently."

"Who?"

"Ayla Jade, Hank, and Rosalyn," Tatanka reported. "They were going to go with Evvie and Naomi to find you and ensure your safety."

"Did you tell them I said I was okay, and that I didn't want to interrupt their plans?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied, and I could tell from his tone of voice that he was most unhappy that I'd made him convey that message.

"What did they say?" I asked when he wasn't forthcoming with their response.

Tatanka frowned. "Evvie and Naomi were insistent on looking for you."

"Were?"

"I told them that you were being stubborn, and they eventually agreed to go to the movie.

"Good."

Despite my familiarity with cold weather and the jacket I'd worn, as the temperature dropped, I started to feel a little chilly. I shivered a little bit, but convinced myself that I was warm enough to enjoy communing with nature under the stars - even though I knew in my heart that I was avoiding other people so I wouldn't be so pointedly reminded that I was, in effect, alone. Others had plans; I didn't. Others had friends and dates that they were doing thing with; I didn't.

After a bit, shivering from the cold, I recast my dream-walking spell.

The fire was warm, but the air around it was cool, with a slight breeze, enough that I felt rather chilly. "Wakan Tanka," I asked as I mixed up tea for her, a change of pace for both of us.

"What is it, Wihakayda?"

"Is there a spell to keep warm?" I asked.

"Of course," she said. "There are many spells to protect us from the weather - from rain, or snow, or cold."

"Will you teach me one to keep me warm?"

Wakan Tanka sighed. "A buffalo robe does a better job, without using your essence."

"Two minor problems, here," I said to her. "First, I didn't know I was going to be outside, and second, I don't have a buffalo robe."

Wakan Tanka looked at me, dumbfounded, for a bit, and then she shook her head, gazing into her tea. "Okay, Wihakayda. If you wish to use your essence foolishly because you didn't plan well ...."

Once she finished teaching me the spell, she gazed at me. "Have your mother buy you a buffalo robe," she directed.

I sighed. "Okay, I'll try to convince her - if only to stop you nagging me."

The spell was pretty simple, and almost immediately after casting it, I felt like I was wrapped in a cloak of warmth which dissipated the chills which had made me shiver. I sat back against the tree, comfortable again, and gazed at the stars. I used to love star-gazing, because the heavens were so vast and pretty, but at that moment, the size of the universe made me feel tiny and insignificant. I had friends, true enough, but ... I was lonely. They all had plans, and I'd been overlooked while they were making those plans. It felt like third grade all over again.

As soon as I recognized my train of thought, I fought against it. I was _not_ going to sit under a tree and feel sorry for myself. Yes, I was hurting psychologically. Yes, I'd been through some serious stress and trauma. But I was alive where other mutants had been killed or maimed. My parents still loved me, where other kids had been totally rejected by their parents. I was surrounded with faculty and staff who wanted to protect me and teach me how to protect myself. And I had friends. Not best-friend type friends, but certainly nothing to sneeze at.

I should have just gotten up, marched back to Poe, grabbed a snack, and then plopped my butt down in a chair in the movie room. Or I should have walked to Crystal Hall for that movie. The only problem was that, in either case, I was afraid that I'd be alone. Others had dates, or were with groups of friends, but I'd be all by myself, even if I was surrounded by other students. I tried to make myself get up, to move, to do _something_ positive, but I lacked the conviction that either movie would be better than sitting under the stars.

Something moving near the administration building a couple hundred meters away caught my attention. A figure was walking toward the trees where I sat, slowly, deliberately, and gracefully. I could tell it was a girl just by the way she was walking, but she was too far away to tell who she was. Perhaps if I had Wabli's or Ceta's vision, I could have seen who it was, but alas, I didn't have their gift of sight. I did a quick double-check to verify that my ghost-walking spell was still active, and then watched her, growing concerned as it became apparent that she was walking in a straight line toward me.

When she was about sixty to seventy meters away, I frowned when I realized who was approaching me. She seemed to be walking in my general direction, even though she had the faint silver aura around her that let me know she wasn't seeing through my ghost-walking spell. As she continued toward me, I debated my course of action. I could get up and run, or walk quickly, in another direction, avoiding her. I could let Tatanka confront her. I could confront her myself. Or I could sit still and do nothing. The closer she got, the fewer good options I had, because she was coming my way. I stood and walked six or seven meters to one side, to another tree, and watched as she walked in a straight line. She wasn't walking like she was looking for me, but rather with her shoulders hunched a bit, looking toward the ground, and her gait wasn't confident, but seemed hesitant, almost like she was lost.

"Wakan Tanka," I whispered to my teacher, "What do I do? I don't want to talk to her."

"Why not, Wihakayda? Look at her - she's not looking for you. She looks like she's pre-occupied with something."

"She's following me!"

"I don't think so, little one. She has her own concerns. You _should_ talk to her. At the very least, you need to get past your distrust."

Leaning against a tree, I watched as Nikki stumbled forward, until she leaned against another tree and slid to the ground. In the dim moonlight, I couldn't see her expression, but from the way she held her head, she was looking for the same kind of solitude I'd sought. For several minutes, I watched her warily, becoming more and more confused with each passing second. This was not the self-assured, confident Nikki that I'd seen so often. She looked small, fragile, and hurt.

Wakan Tanka made my decision for me, by cutting off the magic sustaining my ghost-walking spell.

Nikki was startled when I suddenly appeared, possibly as much as I was that my spell fizzled out. From stories of Team Kimba's various adventures, I expected her to be on guard against danger and do something to protect herself, or to make a pre-emptive move against me, but she did nothing, seemingly resigned to whatever happened

"Hi," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't think anyone was here."

"I ... was looking for a little quiet," I replied nervously, upset that Wakan Tanka had forced my hand. "I ... felt like some solitude tonight."

"Yeah," Nikki responded in a sad tone, "I know what you mean."

"I figured you'd be doing something with your friends or your team." I bit my tongue before I added, 'or someone else to harass me.'

"They ... don't understand," she said softly, melancholy lace through her words. "I know they're trying, but ...." Her voice trailed off, and her gaze was fixed far in the distance.

"I know the feeling," I said, recalling bitterly how many times someone had said, 'you poor dear' or other false platitudes when they heard of my assaults, at a loss for words or actions that indicated that they _truly_ understood.

"Do you want to sit down?" Nikki asked. I could see an occasional glint of moonlight off some moisture on her cheek; something was _really_ bothering her.

I shrugged. "I was just leaving."

Nikki frowned. "Kayda, why are you mad at me?" She seemed a little hurt that I was being distant.

"If you don't know," I replied almost automatically, "then you wouldn't understand."

Nikki sighed. "That sounds like the movie answer a woman gives when she's mad at a friend. Or a guy." Her expression was quite unhappy, despite her attempt at forced humor.

I tried to frown at her comment, but I realized that I _had_ made the same statement that Mom used to give to Dad when he'd done something wrong. It _was_ a stereotypical _female_ answer. I did manage to suppress a chuckle.

"Does this have anything to do with your spell the other morning?" she asked.

"Among other things, yeah," I replied unhappily. "What gave you the right to mess with my spell? Especially since you know about ...." I couldn't say the words. "You _know_ that it's ... very difficult for me, with Ayla and Vamp ...." I frowned at her. "Were you trying to humiliate me more? Or were _you_ trying to ogle me, too?" I saw the shocked expression on her face. "I heard about you and Bunny," I continued. "So I know you like girls."

Nikki's mouth hung agape. "Kayda," she finally stammered, "I'm ... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break your spell." Sparkles of moonlight reflected off what appeared to be fresh tears.

"No? So why'd you do it then? Just for jollies?"

She looked down, embarrassed, shaking her head. "I ... I wanted to see if I could understand how your spell worked," she replied softly. "I've never seen spells like you use. I was using a spell that _usually_ lets me examine someone else's spell and see how it's made. I'm ... I'm sorry it shattered your magic."

"So it's okay for you to break my privacy? How would you feel if someone did it to you?"

"Not very good. I'm sorry," Nikki repeated, sounding genuine in her regret. "I didn't mean to break your spell." She took a step forward. "Can we ... be friends again?" she asked hesitantly. I heard pain in her voice that surprised me. Pain ... and fear of rejection? This wasn't the self-assured girl I'd met so often since moving into Poe. There was something really, really wrong.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and said nothing.

"Is ... is there something else I did that upset you?"

"I'm surprised Ayla hasn't already told all of your team everything." I muttered softly.

"That's not fair to Ayla," Nikki said, defending Ayla from the aspersions I'd cast. "He knows when to be discrete, and he doesn't deal in rumors and gossip." She studied me for a second or two. "Are you're still upset about the dream thing?"

"Duh! Ya think?"

"Why? I said I was sorry." She _definitely_ sounded hurt that I quite evidently hadn't accepted her apology.

"Your mumbled half-hearted apology sure didn't sound like it." I sighed and shook my head sadly, my eyes closed for a moment. "You really don't realize how much danger you put Debra and me in, do you?"

Nikki's eyes widened at my words. "I don't understand."

"No, you don't. But Aunghadhail does. Or at least, she should if she wasn't traipsing all over like she owned everything. Just like she used to when she knew Wakan Tanka."

Nikki looked confused. "She didn't tell me anything."

"Debra and I were attacked in the dream world," I explained. "Seriously attacked. Unhcegila's spawn took Debra hostage, and ... hurt her, to lure me to my death." I shook my head. "And an attack in the dream world affects us in the real world." I felt a combination of anger and fear in my voice as I tried to relate what had happened to Debra. "I was almost killed trying to rescue her. And then I had to ... use some powerful magic ... to heal her."

The poor girl looked apoplectic. "I ... I didn't know ...."

"I had to cast special spells to protect Debra, too," I continued unhappily, "and then Aunghadhail waltzed through my dream-world barriers like it was no big deal, shredding all the work I'd done to protect her! And then you had the audacity to accuse _me_ of doing something wrong!"

Nikki looked quite saddened, with tears glistening on her cheeks. "I ... I didn't know she did that." She wiped at her moist cheeks, shaking her head sadly. "You don't have to worry about her ever doing that again," she said. "Aunghadhail - is ... gone," she sniffled.

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" I stammered.

"Yesterday, when we were trying to help ... Cav and Sky, Hekate's spell ...." She convulsed, and I could see that she was fighting unsuccessfully to maintain some semblance of composure. "She was ... killed." Tiny rivulets of tears flowed down her cheeks. "She didn't mean to put you in danger."

I felt myself changing, merging, until we were Ptesanwi. We are truly sorry for your loss, Nikki," we said. "We didn't know." I felt Ptesanwi slipping back, and I could tell that she was afraid that her presence was a painful reminder to Nikki of Aunghadhail. "And I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it. I was ... very upset."

Nikki nodded knowingly, and I could tell she was trying not to show her grief. "You had a right to be. If someone put me and my friends in danger, I'd be upset, too." She stepped hesitantly toward me. "Are we ... okay?"

I thought momentarily about Suka's lesson. "Yeah," I answered, holding forth my hand. "We're okay." Another weight was lifted from me.

Instead of shaking my hand, Nikki took a quick step forward and wrapped me in an embrace. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I ... I got carried away being curious about your magic, and ... and I did something stupid. And I got angry and blamed you before I knew the whole story about the dream thing." I felt moisture on the cheek that was pressed against mine, telling me how much she really rued the incidents. And how much she was hurting.

I returned her embrace, feeling petty about the grudge. At the moment, she had to be hurting much more from losing Aunghadhail than I was about her accidental intrusion. Nothing like seeing someone else hurting to put your own woes into perspective. For quite a while, we just hugged silently, but unlike past events, this time I was the one offering support to someone crying on my shoulder instead of being on the receiving end of the sympathy and support.

"If you're curious about my magic," I said, finding my voice unexpectedly choked up and my eyes misting, "you _could_ just ask me. Not that you need to learn about my magic, because, you're so powerful with your own magic."

"Yours is very ... different," Nikki said, and from the feel of her cheek against mine, I could tell that she wasn't smiling, but probably had a very sad expression, and her lip was probably trembling. "And I'm not _that_ good. Not anymore. Not without Aunghadhail's help."

"Tell you what. I'll teach you about my magic, if you teach me some of yours."

"I guess. I ... I need the help learning, now," Nikki commented. I suspected, based on having been in a similar state, that losing Aunghadhail had put her in a state of depression. I couldn't imagine how I'd feel if I lost Tatanka or Wakan Tanka.

"Let's go back to Poe," I said, easing out of the hug and taking her arm. "Your friends are probably worried." I felt a twinge of loneliness again, recalling that my friends had things planned, and I didn't. Then again, Nikki's pain obviously dwarfed my own, and in comparison to her loss, a bit of loneliness seemed pretty shallow. "And I've still got a lot of catching up to do, so I can't spend all night gazing at the stars."

"I suppose," she said, sounding quite uncertain. I, on the other hand, was _very_ certain. She had good friends and team-mates. She needed them to help her through this.

***************

Poe Cottage; Ayla's Room

"Are you sure?" Ayla asked as I walked to the door of his room. Nikki, Hank, Toni, Jade, Billie, Bunny, and Vox were gathered, supposedly for a movie, although they'd delayed that for a few minutes while Ayla and Vox interrogated me about the shooting. I suppose the word 'interrogated' is a little too strong, but Ayla was very interested in details. One thing that I found odd was that Ayla seemed to already know what had happened, and was only listening to my story to corroborate other information sources. While I was explaining what I knew, the others gathered around Nikki, like a protective, supportive circle clinging tightly to one of their own in her moment of need.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied. "I'm ... not feeling good," I lied. I saw Nikki's eyebrows lift, and I was certain that she empathically knew I wasn't telling the truth, but the honest fact was that I felt like an intruder in their very close-knit little circle of friends. I didn't want to be included out of pity; that would have felt worse than being left out in the first place. Even more so, I knew instinctively that Nikki needed support from her friends, and I didn't presume to be in that tight-knit circle. They'd been through a lot together, and I could tell they helped each other in ways that I couldn't.

Without another word, I slipped out the door, pulling it shut behind me, and walked back to my room. After flopping down on my bed, I pulled out my phone and dialed Debra's number. I could always count on Debra to cheer me up. But when the phone rolled over to voicemail, I cringed, remembering that Debra had told me that the Sioux Falls League was attending a charity fundraiser, and it would be late before they were back, not counting the time difference as well.

I sighed and, for a moment, reconsidered the movie in Ayla's room, but that struck me as crawling back to a group, looking like a pitiful loser. Instead, I grabbed my magic book and propped myself up so I could read. Honestly, I tried to study, but with girls coming and going in the hallways, it was a bit noisy and difficult to stay focused. When magic couldn't hold my attention, I fell back to my go-to subject, the one thing that I _knew_ would keep me riveted - math. I still had to finish some abstract algebra, so I opened that book and settled down on my bed to read.

That held my attention for far too short a time; soon, my mind was wandering again, this time because of the noise of someone's stereo above me, which was accompanied by some kind of proto-human tribal dancing and jumping about while banging clubs loudly against anything near them. At least that's what it sounded like. With a heavy sigh, I let the book flop in my lap as I considered my options.

The door opening surprised me, and I didn't know who was more surprised to see the other - Evvie or I. "What's up?" I asked after the momentary surprise had worn off.

Evvie smiled as she stepped to the tiny refrigerator in our room. "The vending machine doesn't have cream soda," she replied, "so I have to keep my own stock." She glanced at my math book. "Don't tell me you're studying on a Friday night?" she said plaintively.

I shrugged. "I was _trying_," I replied casually. "But the Neanderthal mating ritual upstairs is making it hard to concentrate."

Evvie set down the cans she'd retrieved from the fridge and took my math book, tossing it unceremoniously on my desk. "C'mon," she said, grabbing my arm. "You're going to come up to watch the movie."

I winced at that. "I'll be out of place," I complained. "And besides, it's probably some chick flick, and I'm not really into those."

"Maybe not yet," Evvie chuckled, "but you'll get the hang of it soon enough." She pulled me to my feet. "And now is a perfect time to practice."

"But ... I'll ...." I was propelled out the door. "I don't want to be the only ... single ... one there," I whined.

"There are others who aren't attached," Evvie said, not taking no for an answer. "And it's not a movie where everyone's looking to hook up, either," she added, taking that excuse away from me before I'd even thought of it.

In the television lounge, there was a variety of chairs, mostly fat stuffed chairs, with a couple of sofas. I winced when I saw how many girls were snuggled with their girlfriends in the big chairs and on one of the two sofas, cuddling, hugging, and making out. I would have turned to leave except that a few of the chairs were occupied by single girls, so I knew that I wasn't the only unattached one there. There was two unoccupied spots on a sofa that didn't have quite as good a view of the television, so I sat down, reasoning that it didn't matter much, since I really wasn't into that genre of movie.

After I'd settled in, and relaxed a bit, someone slipped down onto the sofa beside me. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise?"

I recognized Rosalyn's voice immediately, and felt a sense of dread. "Hi," I whispered to her so as not to disturb those who were actually paying attention to the movie and not the tonsils of a partner. I turned back to the movie so she wouldn't get any hint that I was interested.

Even after a few minutes of watching, hoping against hope to see some car chase or major fight, or even guns and rockets exploding, I came to the conclusion that chick flicks were an acquired taste, and I definitely hadn't acquired it yet. Still, since it was a French film about two women who, despite being married, discovered that they loved each other more, the girls were all very emotionally involved in the story, even with the subtitles doing a poor translation of the emotion conveyed by the actresses and by the actors who portrayed the confused by still caring husbands. The one plus is that I was starting to recognize a few words of the French dialog.

"You look pretty tense," Rosalyn said quietly in my ear.

I shrugged. "Long day and a half," I replied, equally quietly.

"I bet. Being shot would make anyone tense." Her hands slipped up on my shoulders, and I practically leaped out of the sofa. "Calm down. A little massage should help take the stress out of your knotted muscles." She began to knead my fatigued shoulders, and I found myself enjoying her ministrations. I hadn't realized until that moment just _how_ stressed I'd become from the previous day and a half.

"I'm still not interested," I whispered insistently to Rosalyn.

"It's only a shoulder massage," Rosalyn giggled softly. "Lighten up a bit, would you?"

"It'd be easier to do that if you weren't always hitting on me," I retorted, a little louder than I'd intended, because a few faces turned our way, causing my cheeks to burn.

"All of us were worried when we heard that you got shot," Rosalyn said softly, concern evident in her voice. "Almost any of the girls would give you a shoulder rub to help you relax after that."

I thought a moment, and started to protest, but it _did_ feel good, and Rosalyn was right; I was very tired and stressed from the ordeal. "Just a little bit, maybe," I said, lulled into a state of bliss.

***************

Kayda's Hometown, South Dakota

Arm around her shoulder, Scott Hollings walked his girlfriend Shelly out of the ice cream shop, laughing and joking as they walked through the brisk evening air. It wasn't too late yet, and when Shelly suggested that they _cuddle_ for a bit, Scott was only too eager to agree. After he closed the passenger door, he practically floated around to the driver's door. For a moment, he frowned; his car was still disabled, and he had the family car, so it wasn't quite as 'cool', but the upside was that the back seat was roomier than his sports car, which would make extra-curricular activity there less uncomfortable.

Without his favorite squealing of tires, which frustrated him, he drove the car down the highway toward the James River a few miles away, and to the spot affectionately known as Makeout Mountain, a small bluff which was situated to give scenic views and, more importantly, privacy.

A block away, a non-descript pickup, without license plates and with darkened windows, began to roll down the road in silent pursuit of Scott and Shelly. When Scott turned off the highway, the pickup continued, and then quickly stopped, doused the lights, and turned back to follow the unsuspecting high-school sweethearts.

Scott and Shelly were busily making out, oblivious to what was around them; after all, it was the country in a sparsely-populated area, and there really was no danger to distract them. So when the car doors yanked open and rough hands grabbed the two. Shelly's shirt was off, and her bra unfastened, so her breasts bounced freely as she was dragged, screaming, from the car. Scott's pants were unbuckled, and as he was pulled from the drivers' side, his pants and underwear hung down around his thighs, threatening to fall even further.

The figures holding them were shadowy and wraith-like, without discernible features. They were large, and quite strong, as Scott realized from struggling against their grasp. As he struggled, a few fist-blows hammered into him, and he felt and heard the crack of a rib yielding under the battering. He could see two figures holding Shelly, having gagged her, while at least two men were restraining and beating him. And still, there was no clue as to their identity; they were ghostly shadows in the night, dark masks inside dark hoods, cloaked by dark clothing.

"What do you want?" Scott gasped between blows. So far, he'd managed to not cry out, despite the pain being inflicted on his helpless body.

One of the men tilted his head back and howled, a blood-curdling war cry that cut through Scott and Shelly like knives, terrifying them with the feral intensity of the sound as it was joined by all the mysterious captors.

"We want justice," another of the men growled. "And you know what for..."

Scott's eyes widened, and he paled. "What ... what are you talking about?" he stammered as fear gripped his heart.

"We know what you did," the growling man repeated. "Confess and ... or else."

"Or else what?" Scott squeaked.

"You can face your justice," the voice said calmly, "or _ours_. Your girlfriend was there that night, wasn't she? How would she like to be subject to the same treatment? Or you?" The voice was more menacing because it was spoken in such a confident, low tone and volume.

One of the other men holding Scott pulled out a large Bowie knife. With one man holding Scott's hair, he could only see the man stepping forward, lowering the knife toward his groin. Scott whimpered, trembling in fear of what he was certain was about to happen. The man with the knife jerked his shoulder slightly, and Scott cried out, and then realized that he wasn't hurt; all that happened was that his groin was much colder because his clothing had been cut away. The respite, though, was short-lived.

"Please, no!" he practically sobbed as he felt the cold steel against his scrotum.

"Confess ... or else!" the growling man repeated. Without warning, he backhanded Scott across the jaw, his knuckles smashing Scott's jaw up as they knocked him out. His unconscious body was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, and after holding a bag of herbs across Shelly's face until she passed out, the men vanished ghost-like into the night.

***************

Poe Cottage, 3rd Floor Movie Room

Someone was kissing my neck, her face buried under my tresses, as I smelled the fragrant honeysuckle of her shampoo. Her hand danced across my bare breast, pausing to cup and lightly squeeze it before her thumb and forefinger teased my erect nipple. Her other arm, wrapped around my waist, held me fast, not that I wanted to escape from the pleasure she was giving me. I moaned at the electric sensations radiating outward from her tender ministrations on my breast.

"Shall I stop?" she asked as she began to kiss down my neck, to my shoulder, and then to my chest. Her hand expertly guided my nipple into her mouth, and she began to alternately tease it with her tongue, and suckle on it.

"I ... I can't," I protested, but the words were without conviction, and my mind was confused.

"No," she said, "but I can." She resumed kissing, and her hand slowly moved down, toward a fire that was building in me.

I felt her hand on me, and my knees wobbled at her expert touch, as the pleasure built more and more, feeling like a volcano about to explode. "Please," I whimpered, not knowing if I wanted her to stop, or if I wanted her to bring me to completion. Without thinking, I reached for her breasts, eager to give her the same pleasure she was giving to me, and I brushed her long, ravens-black hair aside so I could caress her supple breasts.

Slowly, I became aware of the sound of people shuffling around me. I was leaning against something soft and warm that smelled delightfully like honeysuckle, my hand resting against my support on on something pillowly.

Alarm bells sounded in my head. Honeysuckle - just like the dream I'd been relishing. I ... I was in the TV room, wasn't I? That was the last place I remembered - I thought. I bolted upright, opening my eyes suddenly, terrified of what I was going to see, while yanking my hand back from where it had been resting.

Around me, most of the paired girls were too busy or had left, and a number of the unattached girls were noisily rising and walking from the room. A few were staring at me, with knowing smiles, and a few titters coursed through the room. I turned, and saw Rosalyn, sitting beside me, on whose shoulder I'd apparently been resting. And my hand had been on her chest.

"Pleasant dream?" she asked me with a knowing, coy smile.

"Uh," I stammered, "I ... I ... uh ...." I figured that it was better to say nothing and leave an awkward silence - not that I knew what to say!

"Ooohhh," a couple of the girls cooed, one wigging her eyebrows suggestively. Their teasing calls ended abruptly when Rosalyn looked at them; I couldn't see, but I gathered, from the reactions, that she had given them some kind of look to get them to shut up.

"You've had a long, tiring day, and you're almost asleep," Rosalyn said with a smile. "It'd probably be best if I walked you to your room."

The catcalls started again, and once more, Rosalyn silenced them, but not before my cheeks turned six shades of red. She stood, and then offered her hand to help me up. Still groggy, I let her pull me to my feet, and then she slipped an arm around my waist to steady me.

We walked silently down the hall, and then down the stairs. I was afraid to ask the question that was on my mind, and she wasn't volunteering any information, but kept glancing at me with her enigmatic smile.

Finally, when we got in my room, I couldn't take it anymore. "What are you grinning about?" I practically demanded, turning to face her with my hands on my hips.

"Aw, you're so cute when you're angry," Rosalyn purred.

"Really," I said, getting impatient. "What ... what did you do?"

"Honestly?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I cringed at the way she was acting. "Uh, yeah," I answered uncertainly.

"Nothing."

"What?" I was stunned. "But ...." I shut up; I didn't want her to know that I'd been dreaming, and quite probably of her.

"I just let you use my shoulder as a pillow," she told me. "You were exhausted."

"Oh."

"But that must have been some dream you were having," Rosalyn grinned. "Oh, in case you didn't know, you talk in your sleep."

My mouth dropped open in shock.

Rosalyn winked at me. "You were kind of ... softly moaning ... while you slept."

"Oh, God!" I said as my cheeks flushed.

"Yeah, I seem to remember that you said _that_ a lot, too!" Rosalyn giggled. "And your hand was kind of ... roaming." She leered at me. "Who was she, anyway? Anyone I know?"

I turned away quickly, feeling my cheeks burning with shame.

Rosalyn laughed. "I _knew_ you wanted me! Now that you can admit it, it'll be easier for you to accept an invitation to the hot-tub party, won't it?"

I turned, shaking my head, while blushing intensely. "You're ... bad."

Rosalyn smiled, then licked her lips and made a kissing motion. "Good night, Kayda," she said before turning and leaving my room, pulling the door shut behind herself, and leaving me standing dumbfounded and feeling more than a bit embarrassed. I had a feeling that it was going to be a long, long time before she let me forget this incident.

***************

END OF CHAPTER 4

Kayda 2 - Trials of a Warrior, Chapter 5 - Thanagila

Author:

Elrod

Audience Rating:

Younger Audience (g/y)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Whateley Academy by Maggie Finson, et al

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A Whateley Academy Adventure

Kayda 2: Trials of a Warrior

Chapter 5 - Thanagila

by ElrodW

(with contribution from Bek)

Saturday, March 24, 2007
Whateley Academy

I had to grab breakfast on the run so I could get to my costuming class, which was another of those classes that I didn't want. Nevertheless, since my schedule had already been adjusted in my favor in many ways, I figured it wasn't worth complaining too much, at least not before I went to class to see what it was about. There were about twenty-five other students in the class, most of whom looked as groggy and tired as I felt. There were a couple who were bright-eyed and eager; I alternately envied and hated them, which was a significant change for me. Until a few weeks earlier, I'd been up early to do morning chores before going to school. Now, though, after only a couple of weeks of not having to do those chores, I was getting used to sleeping in a little bit longer.

Our instructor, who had arrived early to assist students before class, was Mrs. Ryan, an old battle-axe dressed straight out of the early 1900s, with a dress that was drab, hung well below her knees, and had a neckline just barely below her tonsils. The visual dichotomy between a dowdy instructor helping one girl work on a computer of a costume with a miniskirt and plunging neckline was jarring; I was suddenly struck with the realization that I had no idea of what to expect from her or the class. Around the perimeter of the room, students had plopped in front of workstations and were slowly getting their systems initialized.

Not sure what was expected of me in the class, I stood by the doorway, looking around the room. Naturally, this led to a few leering gazes and strange stares from those who arrived to class after me; it was yet another reminder that while I was starting to fit in at Whateley, in many ways I was still a bit of an outsider. As Mrs. Ryan walked back to the front of the classroom, she paused and looked at me. I could practically see the wheels turn in her mind. "You're the new girl? Miss Franks?"

I nodded, still not sure where to sit, since it seemed like all of the workstations were occupied.

Mrs. Ryan gestured toward the desks in the center of the room, which were quite unoccupied, so with a shrug, I sat down, knowing that I was inadvertently the center of attention, sitting alone in a block of about forty desks, while everyone else sat at workstations. I felt more than a trifle self-conscious, which seemed to be a normal state of affairs lately, and one that I wished would hurry up and end.

"You were expected last week. Since this class meets once a week, you have a great deal of catching up to do, especially since we miss the two weekends around spring break."

"Yes, ma'am. Things ... happened," I answered nervously, feeling a little pressure. With limited time and the classes I'd already missed, this class could be a serious challenge. That, and my admission that some things had already occurred which would stir curiosity and add fuel to the rumor mill.

Mrs. Ryan nodded. "Yes, I was informed so. And I hope you don't mind me using this as an example, but at least one of those incidents relates directly to this class." All of the students were paying attention to her. "Several fabrics used in costumes have excellent bullet-stopping capability. Even if you're not a superhero, wearing such clothing can greatly improve your odds of success when you come against the unexpected, such as a deranged gunman."

I felt all eyes on me; the rumors of the previous day's events had to have spread across campus, and Mrs. Ryan's example probably confirmed for many people that I'd indeed been shot. At this point, questions I might ask which would hint at the event didn't matter. "Excuse me," I asked, "but what is the energy which typical fabrics can stop?"

Mrs. Ryan looked critically at me. "Kevra is rated to eleven-hundred Newton-meters when used in standard fabric weight."

"But a thirty-caliber bullet, at normal muzzle velocity, has well over two-thousand Newton-meters of kinetic energy. How do you stop that?"

Mrs. Ryan grinned, while the other students goggled at me. "It's a very good point, Miss Franks. There is no bullet-proof fabric which will be protection against all possible threats. If you'd been wearing a Kevra suit, you still would have been injured. If you had something that was sufficient to stop a fifty-caliber round, it might be no protection against fire, or electricity. There is no such thing as an invulnerable costume,"

"Except Loophole's wonder-suit," someone in the back piped up, causing titters and chuckles.

"Even Loophole's wonder-suit has vulnerabilities," Mrs. Ryan said without batting an eye. "I've looked at the materials and structure of said super-suit. Off the top of my head, I can think of six ways to defeat it." She let that soak in for a moment. "So on top of being nattily-attired in a wonderfully-designed costume, you have to think before you wade into combat as a superhero or even as a helpful bystander, or you might end up as a well-dressed corpse."

"Now, it's time to show your progress since last we met." With that, she began to go around the room, and each student's work was brought up in a holographic display in the front of the room. I felt even more awkward, because I was just beginning, while everyone else had three weeks of class, with the instruction and lab time, and had something of a costume, even though some of the works-in-progress were truly hideous or impractical. The worst, from a practicality standpoint, was a silver and Kelly-green outfit that looked like a very skimpy swimming suit with a deeply plunging neckline. While it looked extremely sexy on the model of the exemplar girl who'd created the design, it had virtually no ability to protect the wearer, unless the intent was to have the villain's eyes bugging out with lust to the point that he was effectively disabled, in which case it might have worked.

For about half the class, it was a critique session for all the students' working designs, with Mrs. Ryan very strictly refereeing to ensure that comments were fair, focused, and germane to the designs. She also went around the room so that _every_ student had an opportunity to speak about a project. During that time, I sat silently, feeling completely left out once again, because I didn't know what to say despite being asked for input. I didn't even know enough to be a fashion critic on patterns or colors.

While the others used the remaining class as lab time, I spent about a third of the two and a half hours with Mrs. Ryan, reviewing principles and material that she'd taught lecture-style, and the other two-thirds reading course material while she walked about the room helping other students with their projects.

There was a distinct attitude in the air that some of the students resented my presence, as I'd distracted Mrs. Ryan from helping them; in general, it seemed to be the students whose projects had attracted the majority of the critical comments during the review time.

"Do you have any ideas for a theme?" Mrs. Ryan asked, having noticed me sitting quietly while the others worked on their projects on the computers.

"Uh, yeah," I replied uneasily. "I'm thinking a Lakota theme. Kind of a shaman thing, too."

"Does that relate to your powers at all?"

I nodded. "Yeah. My spirit is a Lakota shaman, and my grandmother is full Lakota."

Mrs. Ryan nodded critically. "Would that be something in a faux buckskin?"

I nodded. "I have a dress that ... some friends ... got for me that's buckskin with some very nice decorative beadwork. That's the kind of thing that I was thinking of."

"That sounds like a decent starting point. Have you done any research on Native American-themed clothing?"

"Yeah, some." Thanks to advice from cottage-mates, I'd spent a little time browsing the web to find designs and pictures, and I'd saved them to my school-issued computer, so I opened a folder that had design data and started viewing the pictures. We slowly stepped through the pictures, with commentary about practical design elements, good color coordination, and style, and then we went through some of the traditional shaman masks and head-dresses. Many of the head-pieces were, even to my inexperience eye, completely impractical, especially when I considered that I'd need to use the outfit and headpiece for combat finals, plus for training when I was assigned a training team. Given my luck so far, I half-expected that someone in the administration would discover that I really _was_ a sophomore and would shove me onto a training team.

By the time class ended, I had a few ideas, and had a copy of the design software installed on my computer, so I'd be able to experiment before the next class. My assignment was to have at least two design concepts before then. I wasn't sure about creating two original designs that incorporated the bullet-resistant fabric and also fit the theme I wanted.

There was no time to go back to Poe before lunch started, and I didn't want to leave stuff in my locker, which I hadn't even had time to find yet, so I just carried my stuff to the caf, where I'd meet up with my friends - assuming they were eating on the same schedule that I was. That was a big assumption on my part, because I'd left before anyone else was awake, and we hadn't talked the day before. After the most recent attack, I had my shield spell active, because first, I knew it could stand up to a rifle shot or two or eight, and second, I was feeling more than a bit paranoid. At least I had Wakan Mila strapped to my thigh which would let me fight back - a little.

There was one curious thing about my knife which Wakan Tanka hadn't told me about. As soon as I got my knife back, I charged it with essence - just in case. And then in the evening, I'd decided to refill it, since I'd gather more essence as I slept. To my surprise, the blade was still charged from that morning, and I couldn't push much essence into it. Maybe that meant my knife could store essence like a battery; if I put in magic energy and didn't use my knife, the essence would stay there for me to use later. That could be a very handy capability. I knew I'd have to experiment to find out more about it, like how fast the essence leaked out of the knife while I didn't use it.

Naturally, as I walked alone toward Crystal Hall, one of the Wild Pack noticed and within seconds, Stormwolf was at my side, escorting me

"You don't have to do this all the time," I insisted indignantly as he fell in beside me. "I have my shield spell active."

"It's standing policy. You aren't to be alone between classes."

"And you just happen to be the white knight who always comes riding to my rescue?"

"Coincidence."

"Sure," I said, drawing out the word. "And I'm the queen of England. I think you're stalking me."

"What?!?!?" he sputtered, surprised by my verbal jab. "No, it's ... I'm not ... " I had him on the verbal ropes. "I'm just doing my job. And for your information, I _have_ a girlfriend."

"Does she know you're stalking me all the time?" Around us, I could hear students giggling at the interchange as I teased Stormwolf.

"I'm a warrior," he said gruffly, "and if you paid attention to your culture, you'd know that a warrior never puts a woman in danger."

"So you admit that you _are_ playing the gallant knight!" I chuckled.

"You really should take more martial arts classes so you can learn how to defend yourself," he said, ignoring my ripostes.

"Why, when you are always around to do it for me?" This comment elicited even more chuckles and guffaws from around us.

"Girls," he muttered under his breath, exasperated by my tormenting.

"I would say that people are going to talk, but I think they already are," I giggled. We walked into the caf.

"Just go get your tray."

"Aren't you going to be by my side to ward off evildoers and ne'er-do-wells?" I pleaded.

He just shook his head, ignoring the looks and giggles around him as people walked by. "I'll be close enough if trouble happens."

I was amazed at how cool he'd managed to stay, only losing his focus once in the entire episode. I wondered if he even had a sense of humor, or a sense of embarrassment. Some of what I'd said should have made him beet red, but he seemed unflappable.

Of course, the fates decided to return the favor; within a minute of sitting down at a table, Rosalyn came over from her usual table to join us, which allowed Stormwolf to beat a hasty retreat so he wouldn't be subject to further teasing.

Rosalyn wasted no time in getting started. "Are you two-timing me?" she whispered so none around us would hear.

My response started with a scowl. "Don't you have friends you'd rather sit with?"

"No," she grinned. "Not when you're more interesting."

"I'm not going to the hot-tub party."

Her chuckle was soft and melodious, and a bit sinister. "Maybe you'd rather cuddle and watch a movie instead."

"No," I replied quickly.

"I heard that you're really good company at a movie," she said, loud enough that others around us could hear.

"I ... fell asleep," I protested.

"Ooohh, how romantic," she purred. "Sleeping in your sweetie's arms."

"It was _not_ like that, and you know it!" I snapped back, losing my cool. "I was exhausted!"

"Napping on someone's shoulder instead of the solitude of your bed?" she continued. "How sweet!"

"What will it take to get you to stop this?" I asked, exasperated.

"You know the answer," Rosalyn said with a demure smile.

Around us, people were silent, ears turned our way and listening in to whatever salacious gossip they could hear, because Rosalyn had made it generic enough that it sounded like I had a boyfriend. As if!

"No, no, and no!" I replied.

Naomi was the first of my friends to join us. "What're you talking about?"

"Nothing," I retorted quickly.

"We were talking about how Kayda falls asleep instead of watching a movie," Rosalyn countered with a grin. "And whether she has rather ... vivid dreams."

Naomi giggled. "She's not going to stop, you know," she told me.

"Never!" I replied with a bit of anger in my voice. "I'm not going to the party."

"It'll be fun. And I can see past that defiant little glare of yours - you're curious, aren't you? And you _want_ to come, don't you?"

"No. I'm ... not going to do that."

"Kayda," Naomi said, shaking her head and smiling, "you might as well give in. She's _not_ going to give up." She leaned a little closer. "Besides, it's a lot of fun."

"I see that you want to warm up to the idea. So we'll start you off a little slower," Rosalyn said with an evil grin. "A bunch of us are going to a movie in Dunwich next weekend. Meet the bus by Schuster at six, so we can have pizza before the movie."

My mouth dropped open at the audacity of Rosalyn. "You're assuming that I _want_ to go to a movie," I replied. "You should _ask_ first."

"I thought you were the kind of girl that liked your date to take charge," she said, lifting her eyebrows suggestively. She leaned a bit closer. "And I know how to take charge," she added with a naughty smile.

It was fortunate for me that Adrian and Laurie arrived when they did; I was beyond a little bit embarrassed. Laurie noticed. "Whatcha talkin' about?"

"Nothing," I replied quickly.

"Dates for a movie next weekend," Rosalyn said at the same time.

Adrian and Laurie exchanged glances. "That sounds like fun," Adrian said. "We should make it a group thing. A whole bunch of us go for pizza, and then a movie. Afterwards, maybe we can find someplace still open with dessert. Something chocolate?"

"Mmmm," Laurie purred. "Chocolate." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "You know the way to my heart, don't you?"

"See, Kayda," Rosalyn chuckled, "it sounds like a _fabulous_ idea. So we'll meet you at six."

"Aaarghh!" I shook my head, frustrated and flustered. "When are you going to take a hint?"

"Never." With that, she waggled her eyebrows and winked at me again, and then sauntered away from our table, making sure she put a little extra sway in her hips."

* * * * * * * * * *

Crystal Hall, dinnertime

After a restful afternoon of catching up on classes, I wasn't too disturbed that a malfunction in one of the checkout stations caused the checkout line at dinner to be a little longer than normal. Standing in line with Evvie and Laurie, I saw Ayla talking with Charge in another line, with Nikki and Toni nearby.

"Kayda, watch out," Evvie hissed softly to me. "It's Greasy and Peeper."

"Oh, good!" I said with eager anticipation.

"What?" she exclaimed, dumbfounded. "Are you crazy?" Her voice was loud enough to attract attention, which was precisely what I'd been hoping for.

With a quick glance, I saw that Ayla was looking around, and I could tell the moment he spotted Peeper. "Quick," I urged Evvie softly, "go tell Ayla to back off and watch. Go!"

Evvie stared at me, her mouth agape with confusion, before she quick-stepped to the other line to intercept Ayla. Nikki, too, noticed the commotion, and was watching, concerned enough that she looked ready to intervene - but she still had a sad, lonely, hurt expression on her face beneath the concern she was showing.

As Peeper and Greasy looked for the source of the disturbance, I decided it was time to take things up a notch. I turned to Laurie. "Just play along, okay?" She nodded, so I continued, raising my voice a little bit. "I can't believe your boyfriend would say, to my face, that my butt is cuter than Fey's!" I exclaimed louder than normal, trying to sound upset. When Laurie's eyes popped open in shock at what I'd said, I gave her a quick wink.

Laurie stammered for a moment, and then picked up on the scene I was trying to make. "Well, you were probably wiggling your ass in his direction so he's notice you, anyway!" she snapped loudly. "And I really doubt he thinks you're cuter than me, let alone Fey!"

We had the attention of the crowd, as I'd expected - and planned. "Where is he? We can just ask!" I challenged her back.

"Ladies, please," I heard Peeper's voice over my shoulder. "There's no need to argue, when you can find an impartial ... AAAGHHH!" He cried out in shock, holding his hands over his eyes as soon as I turned toward him. "Aaaghhhhh! Make it stop!" he cried. "Make it go away!" He looked like he was ready to collapse to the ground and curl up in a little ball.

"Peeper," Greasy said from his side, "what's wrong?"

"I see ... I see ... OLD PEOPLE!" he cried. "Old, wrinkly, saggy! AAAGHHH! It's ... awful! Make it stop!" He turned and fled as fast as his feet could carry him, crying aloud in distress the whole time.

I glanced across to the other line, to where Ayla was smiling at me, nodding in a well-played' signal, while Nikki smiled slightly. I gave her a thumbs up sign in thanks for the special beads she'd enchanted for me several days prior. I was glad that they had worked exactly as I'd hoped.

As Evvie came back to our line, people around us were laughing and clapping at the show; it wasn't every day that Peeper was scared away from a girl. "Okay," Evvie and Laurie said almost simultaneously, "what was that about?"

"You know how Peeper like to ogle girls, right?" Both girls nodded. "And Nikki made her special enchanted beads to stop that, right?"

"Yeah, but most girls don't wear them anymore," Laurie said, "since Peeper has gotten a lot more subtle."

"Or he's gotten used to the effect, and he avoids staring if a girl has them," Evvie added.

"I had Nikki make me some custom beads," I practically chortled.

"So what did he see?" Evvie asked, starting to grin.

"The oldest, saggiest, most wrinkled female body I could think of. Age spots, wrinkles, stretch marks, tits sagging down past the belly-button on a paunchy tummy - the works!" I laughed aloud.

Evvie and Laurie laughed aloud at my explanation, Evvie having to wipe tears from her eyes. "That's ... that's so funny!"

I chuckled. "So one of my buddies from the Wild Pack should be here in about ...," I looked at my watch, "thirty seconds."

Laurie suddenly frowned. "You're lucky," she said ominously.

"What?"

"What if Peeper had a fetish for ... old, saggy, wrinkly women?" she said, shuddering.

I saw Evvie shudder at the same time I felt a shiver run up my own spine. "I hadn't thought of that," I confessed, realizing that my whole scheme might have backfired, even though the odds were well against that. I realized that I was fortunate that it hadn't.

It took two minutes instead of thirty seconds for security to arrive, and Mindbird wanted to take me to Kane Hall that very moment, even when I explained that it was just a variation of Nikki's magic beads. They acted like I'd physically assaulted Peeper, but I managed to talk them into letting me eat first, and by the time I'd finished eating, security had checked with the original incident with Nikki's beads, and decided that I didn't have to come over for interrogation and harassment - for once. It was a small victory, but it was a victory.

* * * * * * * * * *

Poe Cottage, evening after dinner

There wasn't very much happening in the cottage. I joined Evvie, Naomi, Verdant, and several of the sophomore girls in Angel and Wallflower’s room, where we gossiped and I listened to many stories about the week, or at least that part that I had not seen because of my other activities. It was mostly a general bull session, and it was fun to sit around and chat, carefree, friendly, and peacefully. I had the distinct impression that the gathering was going to go very late into the evening. While I was enjoying the company, I was also missing Debra very much, and I found myself anxious to get to bed so that I could dream-walk with her. I don't think the other girls quite understood the emotional and personal significance of a dream-walk; it would have been very difficult to convey to them just how intensely personal dream-walk was, especially with someone you really cared for and loved.

I excused myself and, not realizing how long the day had been, trudged downstairs to my room, where I retrieved my toiletries and went into the bathroom to prepare for bed. Not surprisingly, at this hour, the bathroom was fairly empty, and as I brushed my teeth, with the showers and their Hydroflux hardware visible in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a little bit warm and aroused at the thought of putting that hardware to its intended use. It didn't help that I remembered only too clearly the very erotic dream I had the previous night while resting on Rosalyn's shoulder. Even that memory made me feel conflicted; I shouldn't have gotten excited by her, because the only one I cared about was Debra, and yet, there was no denying that I _had_ been dreaming about the raven-haired beauty, and thinking about her _did_ make me feel rather hot. Feeling rather embarrassed by the swirl of emotions in my head, I went back to my room, undressed, pulled on my robe, and returned to the bathroom, where, after checking to ensure that no one else was there watching, I hung my robe by the shower door, made doubly sure that I switched on the sound cancellation system, and crawled into the shower.

After a very lengthy and invigorating shower, I wobbled down the hallway to my room, and to my embarrassment, I was seen by several girls, including Nikki, Verdant, and Vox. TheyVerdant and Vox grinned knowingly at me, and Nikki managed a sad, knowing smile. I felt my cheeks burning furiously at having been caught, but the session was just what I needed to relax and put me in the mood for dream-walking with Debra. I was learning from the Hydroflux hardware what gave pleasure to a girl, and I intended to practice while dream-walking. At the same time though, while I was in the middle of several rapid-fire, consecutive orgasms, I found my mind drifting occasionally to thoughts of Rosalyn, and the erotic dream I'd had while resting with her. She admitted very clear that she was ready and willing to teach me about the joy of loving another woman, so that I would be prepared to share that joy with Debra when we could truly physically experience what we shared in the dream world. And she was here, while Debra was in South Dakota. Rosalyn was available, and as I was realizing to my dismay, a very tempting partner to satisfy my curiosity.

It took a while for me to fall asleep, because of my troubling thoughts about Rosalyn and my anticipation of being in the dream world with Debra. On top of that, there was the pall of mourning that hung over Nikki's every action; if I was worried about her, her teammates must have been worried sick. While I knew I wasn't responsible for Nikki's loss, I couldn't help but feel guilty every time I saw her, because knowing that my spirit was within me was undoubtedly a bitter reminder to her of what she'd lost. Eventually my tossing and turning ceased, and I drifted into the land of nod.

It was almost a scene from a corny movie where two lovers ran toward each other across a high mountain meadow, arms outstretched towards the other, being with happiness and desire, but that was the scene I found myself playing with Debra. Even though it may have been a little cliché, Debra didn't seem to mind, eagerly running toward me just as I eagerly raced to embrace her. We collided gently, wrapping our arms around each other in a strong embrace, while our lips eagerly sought each other. Hugging and kissing, we fell to the grassy ground, rolling playfully together as if we hadn't seen each other for years.

After several minutes of tongue-fencing, we sat beside each other, giggling at the enthusiasm with which we greeted each other.

"I really missed you," Debra said, "I was so scared when I found out you been shot. If I could have, I'd have flown out immediately to be with you."

"Well," I replied, "it really wasn't a lot of fun being on the receiving end of that."

"These things are happening too much," Debra said, "and I'm really, really getting worried about you. I don't want anything to happen to you," she said, her eyes a little misty and her voice choking a bit.

"Now you know how I feel," I replied, my own voice a little emotional, "whenever you get hurt on a mission."

Debra hugged me tightly, and I strongly suspected that she was crying softly, just like I had when she'd been injured. "I promise I'll be careful," I tried to assure her, "and Fubar and the magic arts department now know what to look for to keep old snake-face out of Whateley."

"I still can't help worrying about you," Debra said.

In response, I hugged her very tightly too. My lips sought hers to assure her that I was okay. We kissed again for quite a while.

The cool mountain breeze rustled through the trees, chilling us slightly so that I had to wrap my arms around Debra and hers around me to stay comfortable, not that I minded holding her more.

We walked to a clearing in a valley, where a native tepee village spread out near a creek. The smell of a fire wafted on the breeze toward us, and the smell of something roasting tantalized our taste buds. Debra and I raced, laughing and giggling, down the side of the mountain and across the clearing into the village.

Wakan Tanka was sitting in her usual spot by the fire smiling gently and knowingly at us as we dashed among the teepees to the fire circle. Debra and I sat near Wakan Tanka, with my arms wrapped around her shoulders holding her close.

"When are you going to learn to cook, Wihakayda?" Wakan Tanka asked with a sly grin.

Debra turned and looked at me, puzzled, since Wakan Tanka had spoken in Lakota, and Debra didn't understand her.

I smiled at Debra. "Wakan Tanka is implying that I should learn how to cook," I giggled. "Like that's going to happen anytime soon!"

Wakan Tanka must have understood the hesitance in my voice, because she just shook her head saying, "You must learn to cook for yourself, Wihakayda. It is part of being self-sufficient and being Ptesanwi."

"I suppose you're going to keep insisting until I do know how to cook Lakota foods," I replied with a grumpy tone.

Wakan Tanka simply ignored me, instead using the gourd ladle to scoop some soup from a pot, and serving two gourd bowls to Debra and me. It smelled fantastic, and Debra and I hungrily dug into the soup, not knowing what the seasonings or vegetables were, and not really caring because it tasted so good.

After we ate, Debra, Wakan Tanka, and I walked along the stream, listening to the splashing and burbling water, and occasionally waiting barefoot into the chilly brook. Around us, we heard abundant wildlife – birds singing in the trees, fish jumping in small ponds, frogs croaking. Overhead, an eagle circled lazily on the wind, his sharp eyes scanning the land around us as he searched for prey. Somewhere near, we heard a crashing sound in the trees, like a bear was stumbling about fattening himself for the winter.

We paused to sit on some large rocks overlooking a small pond. Butterflies and insects flitted about, and a small ruby-throated bird danced among the flowers, hovering long enough to feed on the nectar before dancing on the air in to yet another blossom. After a few moments, the hummingbird noticed us, but rather than darting off frightened, it changed course and flew directly to us, or more specifically, to me, where it hovered in front of my face.

I watched it for a few seconds, its green iridescent body with the bright ruby chest and throat looking so beautiful, and its wings a blur as they flapped so quickly that the eye couldn't track them. Then I heard the bird sigh in high, squeaky voice like I imagined a fairy sounded like. "How am I supposed to talk with you if you make me spend all my energy flying?"

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, I gently raised my hand, one finger extended, toward the graceful aerial artist, and somewhat to my surprise, the hummingbird landed on my finger.

"Are you the Ptesanwi of which all the other animal spirits speak?"

With one eyebrow cocked, I glanced at Wakan Tanka, puzzled that the animal spirits had heard of me and were speaking about me. Wakan Tanka smiled demurely. "You're very important, Wihakayda," she said. "It's only natural that the animal spirits would know of you. Thanagila has asked me several times to meet you."

"What?" I asked, astonished. "The animal spirits _want_ to meet me?"

"Yes," Thanagila replied cheerfully. "It has been long since Ptesanwi was with us."

I sighed. "I suppose you have some lesson for me, just like all the other spirits?"

Wakan Tanka chuckled. "Sometimes, Wihakayda, the spirits just want to talk with you."

"Wait," Debra interrupted. "Can you please tell me what's going on?"

"Oops," I apologized, ashamed that I'd forgotten that Debra didn't speak Lakota. I glanced at Wakan Tanka. "Is there a spell that will let Debra understand what we're saying?"

"Of course, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka answered. "Let me teach you."

I turned to Debra again. "Wakan Tanka is going to teach me a spell so you can understand without me having to translate everything."

Debra smiled at me; her smile warmed my heart and made me want to hug and kiss her because she wore her it so beautifully.

It only took a few moments for Wakan Tanka to teach me the spell, and then I invoked it on Debra. "Does it work?" I asked in Lakota.

"Yes," Debra answered, goggling in wonderment. "I understand what you said, even though I know it's not English!"

"That's good ...." I frowned as I turned to Wakan Tanka. "Wait a minute. Why didn't you use this earlier, when I didn't understand you?"

"Wihakayda, have you already forgotten what I told you about my use of magic, and how it affects the veil between us?"

I cringed a tiny bit, ashamed of my outburst. "Yes, I remember," I mumbled apologetically.

"Is this permanent?" Debra asked eagerly, changing the subject.

"No," Wakan Tanka explained. "The spell will last for several hours. There is a spell which can be permanent, but Wihakayda hasn't learned it yet."

Debra turned to Thanagila. "You're so ... pretty," she said, almost awestruck by the fact that I had a hummingbird sitting on my finger. "You look so ... innocent and joyful."

Thanagila nodded to her, and then looked at Wakan Tanka. "Why is Ptesanwi not the one talking?"

"Because I'm not sure what to say," I replied to the bird. "I don't know what I want to ask."

Thanagila turned to me once more. "Then let me tell you what I observe. You are not happy much of the time, are you?"

I glanced uneasily at Debra and then Wakan Tanka, who was sitting in the background unobtrusively, staying out of the conversation. "Uh, yes I think I'm pretty happy."

"Are you certain? And do you feel peaceful?"

I shook my head. "No. Not most of the time. Not with all the ... stuff ... that keeps happening to me."

"If you aren't peaceful, how can you be happy?" Thanagila shook his head. "Do you feel peaceful with _yourself_?" he asked, clarifying his question.

I exchanged an uneasy glance with Debra, and then I looked back to the hummingbird. "Uh ... I _think_ so."

Thanagila laughed, a bright little titter. "If you have to think about being at peace with yourself," he squeaked, "then you probably are not."

"But ... I think I am. I mean," I gulped, "I'm making friends, I'm getting settled in to school, things are looking positive."

"Are you at peace with yourself?" Thanagila repeated.

"Uh, I ... I don't know." I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"When you look in the mirror," Debra interjected, "do you like who you see? Or is there still part of you that thinks the reflection is foreign, and isn't really you?"

"Your friend speaks wisely," Thanagila said. "You cannot be at peace with others unless you are at peace with yourself. And you cannot enjoy life unless you are at peace with the world around you."

I thought a moment. "But ... that's hard!"

"Until you recently talked to Ptan, you didn't play. Without feeling playful, you are not using part of your energy, your vitality. Your energy must be balanced, but if it is out of balance, is it not better to be more playful than more worried or angry?"

"Ptan versus Ithunkasan," I muttered, remembering that lesson. "But ...."

Thanagila shook his head. "No buts. Do I look worried, or angry, or fretful?"

"No," I replied. "You look ... beautiful. So agile, so full of life. You don't look like you worry about anything."

Debra wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "And you, love, would look even more beautiful without all your worries."

"But surely there are things you have to worry about!" I protested to the tiny, colorful aerial acrobat.

"Ah, now you start to understand. There are _always_ things which we must worry about. But we must _not_ worry about those things we cannot change."

"And we have to be smart enough to tell the difference?" Debra asked with a wry grin.

Thanagila nodded. "I worry about those things I must worry about, and only when I have to. The rest of the time is for being at peace. You know of the shrew, do you not?"

I frowned. "The tiny little high-strung rodent?"

"Yes. He worries about everything, all the time. And he worries so much that he can damage his own heart from the stress of worrying too much."

"So ... if I worry too much, it's not good for me, right?"

"Now you see. Peace is good for your health. Being playful is good for you. Worry is not."

We talked more, and Debra wanted Thanagila to fly around some, because he was so agile and dexterous. In truth, I think the little bird enjoyed a chance to show off, to flit playfully among us and cause us to smile and laugh. Eventually, though, he had to return to eating, because, as he reminded us, he had to keep balance, and using energy to play required that he eat as well.

I hadn't noticed, but sometime while we were talking with the hummingbird, Wakan Tanka had gone, probably back to camp, so Debra and I decided to take a little walk. We climbed up the side of the valley, until we were sitting on a rocky crag high above the meadow below. The sun was warm and comforting, offsetting the cool, gentle breeze. I wrapped my arm around Debra's shoulder, and she put hers around my waist, leaning on my shoulder contentedly. The vista was so beautiful that we were happy to sit together and just soak in all that was around us.

* * * * * * * * * *

Rosebud Indian Reservation, South Dakota

Chief Dan Bear Claws tapped his foot impatiently as he held the phone, waiting for it to be answered on the other end.

After the sixth ring, the phone clicked on. "Yeah? What do you need?"

Chief Dan frowned as he snapped, "Knock of the physical attacks. You almost killed her."

The voice on the other end sounded quite surprised. "That wasn't me," the operative said defensively. "Someone else is doing that."

Chief Dan's eyes went wide. "Who?"

"I don't know."

"Well, find out who, and stop them! If anything happens to her ...."

"Maybe a few failed attempts on her life will convince her to leave ...."

Dan shook his head. "Don't you know what's at stake here? We can't take the chance that they might accidentally succeed."

"Then you don't want to hear what happened yesterday," the operative said, choosing the words carefully.

"What?" Chief Dan was afraid of what his agent was going to say.

"Something demonic possessed a security guard, who tried to murder her," the person said cautiously. "He came close to succeeding."

"Yes, I know that," Chief Dan replied angrily. "The shaman told me about it."

"Oh."

"What else can you tell me about it? What was the demon?"

"I don't know. That wasn't in the security reports that I have access to," the agent answered, frustrated that Chief Dan was getting more and more demanding of information.

"You need to find out. And get back on harassing and embarrassing her. The shaman wants her out of there _now_. The whole plan depends on her being so frustrated that she comes home."

"It won't be easy. Someone already got her schedule straightened out."

"Well, get it messed up again!" Chief Dan roared.

"I can't. Not with their computer security. Any more tampering, and their security guru will notice, trace it to me, and then I'll be in deep shit!"

"You're going to be in deep shit from a shaman if we don't get her to come home," Chief Dan reminded the agent.

The operative ignored Dan's threat. "I'll see what I can find out about the demon, and who else is interested in her. And I'll try to step up the harassment on her. It's not going to be easy - she's already made a bunch of friends who are helping and supporting her."

"Then break up those friendships."

"I'll see what I can do."

"No," Chief Dan snapped. "You'll _do_, not try."

"I've got some actions working to humiliate her, too."

"Okay, keep going with those. But remember - your actions can _not_ be traced to me, and if you fail ...."

"If I fail, _you're_ the one who's going to be in trouble with your tribe's shaman. _My_ tribe's shaman will protect me, since I'm repaying a debt to another tribe. So just make sure my expenses and fees are paid." The agent hung up the phone.

Dan winced at his operative's last comment. His threat was weak if what the agent said was true. The only thing he had was a debt being repaid, and the allure of the fees he was paying. A slight smile crept back on his features. The shaman had said to not worry about costs; well, he could promise some incentive pay to his agent.

* * * * * * * * * *

Kayda's Dream-world

Debra lay snuggled against my back in the buffalo furs, warm and happy. But I was feeling a little guilty because I'd found myself aroused by, and attracted to Rosalyn. Finally, I couldn't stand the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Uh, Debra?" I began softly.

"What?" she asked me back, keeping her arm draped over my body and holding me tightly against her.

"Uh, last night there was a movie in Poe," I said hesitantly. When she waited silently for me to continue, I did. "I didn't have anything else to do, and I couldn't study, so Evvie and Naomi took me."

"See," Debra said warmly, "I knew you'd get comfortable and feel accepted."

"I was ... very tired, after the shooting and my healings and regen," I said, nervousness audible in my voice.

"That's understandable."

"I told you that Rosalyn's been teasing me and flirting with me a whole bunch, didn't I?"

"Yeah." I felt her body stiffen. "And ..?"

"And ... I was sitting next to her on the couch, and she gave me a little neck-rub, and ... well, I fell asleep."

"Okay. I thought it was going to be something more than that," Debra replied.

"While I was asleep, I ... sort of had an ... erotic dream. About her."

I felt Debra's body shift, until she was leaning on her arm behind me, her body angled so she was no longer cuddled tightly against me. "There's nothing wrong with that," she said calmly. "Especially with Rosalyn. She's ... she's something special, and it'd be hard to _not_ think about her."

"And I'm not sure, but I may have been ...," I lowered my voice to a near whisper, "touching her ... breasts."

"You're ... not sure?"

I winced. "I was kind of asleep, and I dreamed I was," I stammered. "And when I woke up, I ... I had my hand ... on her chest." I looked away, ashamed. "I ... I don't _want_ to think about anyone but you."

"But I'm guessing that Rosalyn has told you about me and her," Debra said. Credit her for being sharp. "And ... you can't help but be curious, right?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "I ...." I shook my head, not knowing quite what to say. "When she talks about you, it's ...."

"You're a little jealous, too, aren't you?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "But I shouldn't be. It wouldn't be right, because you and I hadn't met, and we weren't involved, and ...." I sighed again. "I'm just confused."

"Because Rosalyn is there, and more than willing, and I'm so far away? And maybe because you _are_ a bit jealous, and definitely curious?"

"Uh, huh," I muttered.

"Sweetie," Debra said, leaning forward to kiss my neck, "if I _was_ there, we couldn't do anything. Not legally until your birthday, anyway. And neither of us want to risk that. We'd have to wait. In the meantime, I ... I guess I'd understand," she added softly, "if you ... you know."

I practically did a flip in the furs, until I was face-to-face and hugging her tightly. "I don't _want_ anyone but you," I said firmly. "I'm not going to give in to any temptation, no matter how much Rosalyn teases and flirts with me."

"I know you want to be strong, and resist temptation," Debra said softly. "But she's there, and it'd be okay for you, and ...."

She was giving me permission to experiment, without saying so. "I ... I don't want to, even though I know you're right, and I'm curious. I just wish ... that Rosalyn would stop, because that would take away some of the temptation."

* * * * * * * * * *

Sunday, March 25 2007, early afternoon
Crystal Hall

For some reason, the caf seemed a trifle quieter at lunchtime. I expected it at breakfast, because of the tendency of lots of kids to sleep in, and the extended weekend serving hours, but lunchtime seemed a bit too quiet. I glanced around, and a few of the people I knew weren't there. That could have been because it was Sunday, and the meal schedule was very unpredictable, but it seemed there was more. Several people I knew weren't present, even though some of their friends were eating. I looked around again, puzzled. "What's going on?" I asked Adrian, who'd been the first one to join me at the table.

"In what way?"

"It seems like there are fewer people here."

"Well, it is Gearhead Day," Adrian answered nonchalantly before taking a big bite of his breakfast.

"Gearhead Day? What's that?"

"The Whateley Auto Club, the Gearheads ..."

"I read about them in the catalog."

"Well, they have a big event once every term where they show off their cars and do time trials at the salt flats."

"Salt flats?" I was puzzled. "The only salt flats I know are in Utah."

Adrian nodded. "Yeah, and they've got some kind of teleporting gateway that takes their cars from the shop to the test area."

"That sounds ... cool." I know I didn't sound convincing of my eagerness or interest.

Laurie set her tray beside Adrian's and then sat down next to him. "What sounds cool?"

I sighed. "The whole Gearhead thing," I answered unenthusiastically.

Evvie, Naomi, and Vasiliy had joined us.

"Don't tell me you're interested in the Gearheads," Naomi commented acerbically. The hobby plainly wasn't on her list of favorite past-times based on the disparaging tone of her voice.

"I ... I would have been," I said, my eyes closed and my head tilted slightly down. "Back before ...."

"Before you manifested?" Adrian asked, picking up the conversation that I should have never started.

"I ... I was ... a bit of a tomboy," I lied to cover the secret of Poe. "My dad owned a farm implement dealership, and I spent a lot of time with mechanical stuff."

Vasiliy chuckled. "Sounds like more than bit of tomboy, if I am understanding meaning of that word."

I glanced, and saw Evvie lift her eyebrow just a tiny bit, acknowledging quietly my recovery from almost spilling the beans. I shrugged, determined to carry on with what I'd started. "You probably don't know many farm-girls from the upper Midwest," I continued. "City girls are soft, and don't know how to fix the transmission in a tractor, or combine wheat, or cut hogs."

"Cut ... hogs?" The girls' eyes all widened. So did the guys'.

I realized that I could have some fun. "Yeah. Every spring, when the calves and piglets are born, most of the male calves get ... _parts_ ... cut off," I said, smiling as I made a slicing gesture toward my crotch. The girls all turned various shades of green, while Adrian and Vasiliy involuntarily crossed their hands in their laps. "That's so they can be fattened for market."

"Remind me to never piss you off," Adrian squeaked nervously.

"Are you saying that farm-girls are interested in cars?" Naomi asked. "Because it's probably not just farm-girls. A lot of the Gearheads are girls. Loophole, Murphy," she noted.

"Skids," Evvie contributed.

"And isn't Dashboard the president?" Adrian chimed in.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," I said with a shrug, trying to hide my disappointment that yet _another_ hobby was out of my reach. "I don't have a car to work on."

"You can always get a car. I think there's a car salvage place in Berlin a lot of them go to get project cars," Evvie added.

"I _had_ a project car," I countered quickly, maintaining a neutral tone despite my inner hurt. "Back home. It was my grandpa's car, and I was going to restore it and turn it into a hotrod. But now ...." I said, shaking my head sadly.

"You should bring it here," Adrian encouraged.

"How? It's halfway across the country." I sighed heavily. "Besides, I asked around, and there isn't much room in the car shop, so even if I _could_ get my car here, I wouldn't have a place to work on it because I'm just a freshman - you know, low person on the totem pole. On top of that," I added, "my schedule is too busy for me to have time to work on a major project like that."

"You have free time," Evvie countered, "and you'll get more as you get more caught up."

"I read the rules, though, and having a car in the shop is limited to people on the technology track. I'm on the magic track because of my spirit." I was making excuses to try to hide my disappointment and fear of rejection by the Gearheads. Shaking my head sadly, I added, "Maybe next fall, I guess."

"Wait. Aren't you taking electronics? That's part of technology track, right?" Vasiliy asked.

"It's just ... not practical." How could I tell them that it really hurt, deep down, because I'd been working with mechanical things all my life? It was therapeutic to assemble an engine or transmission, or to modify or build something with cold steel and a welder or a lathe or milling machine. I'd had to _make_ parts for tractors from raw metal, and the feeling of accomplishment was indescribable. None of my friends were mechanics at heart. But I'd already seen the various groups at Whateley; they were closed little cliques. After third grade, I was desperately afraid that a latecomer like me wouldn't be welcomed. I feared being rejected, but I was also afraid of feeling like I was pushing my way into a group.

"Don't be so negative," Evvie gently but firmly scolded me.

"I guess it's not meant to be this term." I turned back to my food, and the conversation wandered in another direction. I didn't contribute much to further lunchtime discussion, even when Evvie and Laurie prompted me. I didn't want to mope around, but I couldn't help feeling a little bummed.

I stood suddenly. "I'm going back to my room to work on my math," I announced before walking purposefully away. I was right about the car. It just wasn't practical. I wasn't a member of the Gearheads; hell, I didn't know if I would _ever_ be accepted by that clique. Loophole was a member? I'd heard of Loophole. She was considered a goddess of the gadgeteers, and she was a key member of the Alphas, the top dogs of the campus. From what I gathered, she already had five or six pretty impressive patents, and even as a high school sophomore, was raking in the cash from her inventions. How the hell could I compete if she was typical of the Gearheads. It accentuated the fact that I was far from the top student here, when I'd so easily been the best at my old school, and honestly, I didn't know how to _not_ be the top student.

As expected, two security officers patrolling near the cafeteria moved to intercept me, and they fell in behind me. One that I didn't know - yet - had his hand on the rifle sling that hung across his shoulder, anticipating trouble. I sighed and shook my head, chuckling to myself. At this rate, I was going to know all the security officers, and if this kept up, I'd go broke on Christmas cards and small gifts for my 'friends'.

I wasn't really paying attention as I walked, and therefore, I was surprised when two people intercepted me along the walkway. Startled by the sudden intrusion, I cast my shield spell almost immediately before I recognized Tansy with Don Sebastiano. I'd seen the two in the cafeteria; the Don had a reputation as a very nasty piece of work, considering himself God's gift to women, and using his psychic talent to get girls to fall for him, only to dump them when he tired of his new bedroom toy. There was also a rumor that he'd been badly injured by a couple of juniors who he'd made into mind-slaves, but when the spell had worn off, they wreaked a fierce revenge upon the Don, hospitalizing him with serious injuries. The guards halted behind me, and I could tell that they were nervous about the newcomers.

"Hello, Kayda," Tansy said cheerfully, smiling to me before shooting an unpleasant glare at the security guards. Just from her tone of voice, I knew she was up to something. She, too, had a pretty unflattering reputation as a rich, manipulative snob, who also made liberal use of her psychic power to get her way. "Nice afternoon for a walk, isn't it?"

"It's okay," I replied non-committally. Based on what I'd been told of the two, I wanted to say as little as possible to these two.

Sebastiano stretched out his hand, and when I grudgingly took it to politely shake, he bowed to the point that I thought he was going to kiss it. "I am pleased to meet such a charming lady," he said smoothly, raising himself. "I'm Sebastiano Lorenz Valensuera y Ramirez, but a lot of people simply call me the Don." He had the creepy smile of a snake about to strike its prey. "And if I have heard the rumors correctly," he continued, "you would be Kayda Franks?"

"Yes," I answered, thinking furiously about how to handle the situation, even as I felt a strange calm, soothing me and telling me I was being paranoid and didn't need to fear a little conversation.

"The rumor is that you had some difficulties yesterday," Sebastiano said, his voice sounding sympathetic and concerned. There was an air about him of significant over-confidence.

"Is Team Kimba making trouble for you?" Tansy added quickly, speculating wildly. The look on her face made it very clear that she disliked the Kimbettes intensely, and that she was almost hungry for news that Team Kimba had made another enemy. "They're rather ... reckless," she added in a conspiratorial tone, and have caused far more than their share of troubles."

"There are some around campus who could protect you from their bullying," Sebastiano continued. "Let's face it - the security team and the auxiliaries like the Betas only show up when the bullying is done." He smirked at the two officers standing behind me as if daring them to react to his obviously demeaning comment.

I started to react, but then I paused, which was quite non-characteristic of me. "Yeah, I've been bullied a bit since I got here," I admitted.

"I heard about some of it," Sebastiano said, trying to look sympathetic. "The slush-balls, the ice attack - especially on a girl." He wrinkled his brow. "Only a coward would attack a girl," he spat. "Especially a lovely señorita such as yourself."

I felt a touch of warmth rush through me at being called lovely. Something seemed wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"But I bet you have dozens of champions willing to defend you, no?" he continued smoothly.

"Uh, not really," I stammered. Despite the cool weather, I felt unusually warm.

"No?" Sebastiano roared. "That is an outrage! No señorita should be lacking defenders when the bullies are out." He smiled charmingly. "Why don't you join us for dinner this evening, and we can talk about what can be done to protect you from such uncivilized buffoons."

"Uh, I've got dinner plans with a couple of girls from my cottage," I replied, suddenly wondering if I shouldn't cancel those plans.

"And you have to live in Poe with all the head-cases," Tansy said smoothly. "Perhaps that's why you don't have a lot of friends - everyone is afraid of the Poesies, and doesn't want to associate with you."

"Uh, I'm ... that is, I've got some friends."

"I take it you're not referring to those arrogant snob Kimbas," Tansy purred. "They've been known to stab their so-called friends in the back." She had my attention, and she knew it. "Last term, Ayla kicked one of their supposed friends off their training team, and after she risked her life with them in Boston."

"Uh, that would be Chou, right?" I speculated, feeling a little ... distant, like I was watching the conversation from over my shoulder. "I ... heard something ...."

"Ayla stabbed her in the back," Tansy continued, "and then got her moved out of Ayla's room, to boot."

"Uncalled for. It just goes to show how untrustworthy a Goodkind can be. If she'd do something like that to a baseline, imagine what she'd do to a mutant!" Valensuera agreed, nodding.

I couldn't argue; Ayla had been very indifferent toward me when he'd been ogling me, not caring if I'd been raped and was emotionally bruised.

I frowned as I realized something - Ayla had apologized, and even offered to change his shower schedule to avoid causing me unpleasantness, even though I knew that he enjoyed the hell out of ogling the other girls. Something wasn't right here, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Kayda!" Evvie called to me, sounding desperate. I turned, and saw Evvie, Naomi, Adrian, and Laurie running toward me from the cafeteria. "Kayda, don't trust them!"

"Wihakayda!" Tatanka growled to get my attention, snapping me abruptly into the dream world.

"Huh?" Things seemed a bit foggy and nebulous.

"They are using psychic tricks on you," Tatanka reported, nudging me hard to snap me out of whatever brain fog they were inducing. "Snap out of it!"

"Uh, what?" I replied, feeling a big groggy. "What?"

"Those two are using mind tricks on you. Should I stop them?"

"Of course!" I snapped at Tatanka. Then I had a better idea. "Can you give them a mind-butt that'll knock them on their asses?"

Tatanka grinned. "No-one messes with the Ptesanwi while I'm on duty," he said.

Tansy screamed, clutching at her head in pain, while the Don staggered as if he'd been physically head-butted. "What the hell?" Tansy yelled furiously at me.

"What did you do to them, Kayda?" one of the officers demanded as he stepped beside me. His partner was on my other side, warily looking between the Don, Tansy, and myself.

"She attacked us," Tansy screeched, still holding her head as if it was throbbing painfully. "You saw!"

I smiled, shaking my head. "I didn't move a muscle," I said, almost gloating. "My spirit is sensitive and defends me from psychic intrusions and attacks, but it can't harm anyone who isn't psychically touching me," I continued smugly. "It's on record with Chief Delarose, and also with Mr. Geintz in the Psychic Arts department."

"We'll have to take you three to Kane Hall for an investigation," the officer said to all three of us. Tansy was scowling, and the Don had a curious expression on his face, like he had mixed emotions.

"Fair enough. But I'm not going to file a complaint," I added, grinning. "They didn't hurt me, and I know that they won't _ever_ try that again."

Evvie and Laurie came with us to Kane, where Chief Delarose was waiting. Cripes, did he ever take any time off work?

"Nice to see you without any physical damage, Kayda," he said as we sat in his office. There weren't enough chairs for everyone, so Evvie and Laurie stood, ready to defend me against whatever accusations the two were going to level at me.

"Yeah, it is a bit of a change," I said casually, smiling and shaking his hand like it was a class reunion instead of a security investigation.

"Louis said he'd be right over," the Chief replied.

I glanced at the Don and and Tansy; they were looking a little nervous about Mr. Geintz coming. Obviously, his reputation and skill were intimidating to them, since they'd been the ones who'd started the mind-games.

After Louis examined me, he was satisfied that they had been psychically touching my mind, although it wasn't clear as to the extent, and that Tatanka had only shoved them out of my mind in an act of defense. When offered the chance to press charges on me, Don and Tansy had seemed rather eager, until the Chief reminded them that they'd be subject to psychic evaluation as well. A quick glance exchanged between the two highlighted how uncomfortable they were with that thought, and they looked like they were ready to sprint from the office.

Once they'd left, with a warning, Delarose looked at me. "Okay, Kayda, what's going on? You had them dead-to-rights, and they'd have gotten serious detention."

"They learned a valuable lesson," I said, smiling. "I don't think they're ever going to try to mind-fuck me again."

Evvie chuckled. "It looked like Tatanka gave Tansy one heck of a headache."

"And he almost knocked the Don over!" Laurie added gleefully. "But what if they decide to come after you by other means?" she asked with a worried furrow on her brow.

"They will," I said with certainty. "Their type always does."

"Well, if you're not going to press the issue, I guess you can go, then," Chief Delarose said.

With Evvie and Laurie, the Chief decided that I didn't need formal security escorts, so we walked back to Poe.

"That was kind of classy how you handled them," Laurie observed.

"Yeah," Evvie acknowledged. "I'd have nailed them, but then again, I know all the crap they did last fall."

"In my experience, when adults get involved in bullying, it gets worse and far more subtle." I shrugged. "I've got enough to worry about without making enemies of Sebastiano and Tansy."

Evvie chuckled. "More so than you just did?"

I shrugged. "If all they can do is psychic stuff, then I'm okay because Tatanka can block that."

"The Don has a team of goons that can get kind of rough," Laurie cautioned. "I heard that they tried to kill Loophole and Murphy once."

"Such a cheery thought," I said sarcastically. "Can we change the subject, please?"

Laurie obligingly changed topics. "Murphy got a car in the shop, and she just came in the winter term." Just my luck for her to resume talking about the topic I'd rather have avoided.

"Yeah, but she's a friend of Loophole," Evvie noted.

"I'll get it next fall," I said, hiding my hurt again, and trying to put on a positive mask. "Besides, like I said earlier, I don't have a lot of free time, especially with extra martial arts and tutoring Ayla."

Evvie's eyes bugged out. "You're tutoring Ayla?" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah, go figure," I chuckled. "I was talking with Ms. Bell about being a TA, but I hadn't agreed yet, but apparently, she told Ayla that I _had_ agreed, and that I could help him with his pre-calc and calc 1 this term."

Evvie chuckled. "Or Ayla told them that you would tutor him."

My jaw dropped. "How would he know ... about my transcripts, and ...."

"Ayla knows more than anyone but Carson about what's going on around this place," Laurie said with a giggle.

"Would Ayla have done that?" I stammered. "Setting me up to tutor him without me knowing it?"

"Why don't you ask him," Evvie said with a shrug. "But if Ayla _is_ behind this idea, which I suspect he is, then he would have made sure you knew that you could say no."

* * * * * * * * * *

Laird Hall, Whateley Academy

I finished tying on my gi, glancing around as I did so. "I really appreciate it, you guys," I said once again. It was nice of the three girls to take time on Sunday afternoon to help me with martial arts.

"Remember, you promised to 'elp me with my algebra," Charge reminded me unnecessarily. In exchange for spending time with me sparring, she'd traded some math tutoring. I thought I was getting the better end of the deal.

"And Ah need more practice, too," Alicia drawled, "so Ah don't mind at all."

Toni chuckled. "I get to torture a student, I get to torture a student," she said in a sing-song voice, grinning all the while and rubbing her hands together like an evil villain.

I smiled. "If it's anything like tutoring math, you're going to find that it's a lot harder to teach than to learn, especially when it's so natural for you."

"Yeah," Alicia added. "And y'all have to remember that we don't learn this stuff as fast as y'all do."

Toni shot her a faux withering glare, and then grinned. "I've already been teaching some students, so you're not my first guinea pigs. Besides, this stuff is easy. You'll pick it up really fast." She seemed a little hyperactive. "Let's go."

I followed the other girls out to the mats, and we began stretching. I had to pause and gawk at Toni, who seemed to be as limber as a wet noodle. She was stretching herself in ways that I didn't think were even possible, and as she started her warm-up katas, I noticed that Alicia and Charge were also staring.

Toni noticed that we were staring, and she paused, putting her hands on her hips. "C'mon, girls," she said sternly, "you need to warm up, too." As she spoke, she lifted one leg in a stretch until it was nearly straight up, with her arm reaching up to touch her toes.

I couldn't help shaking my head. "Why do I get the feeling that this is a very bad idea?" I asked. Trying to follow Toni's example, Alicia and Adalie followed Toni through a simple kata, while I struggled to make similar moves, completely messing up.

Toni noticed, and she bounced over beside me after directing Adalie and Alicia to continue. She demonstrated a stance, and when I tried it, she nudged and pushed me until she was satisfied that I was in the same stance. She then walked me through a few moves of the basic kata, and watched as I tried to repeat it. "No, no, no," she chided me gently. "Like this." She did the stance, and flowed gracefully through those moves again. "Now you do it."

I tried, and quickly became discouraged when I messed up again and again and again. After about fifteen minutes, during which time I felt like I was successful at precisely zero moves and stances, I stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry," I said softly, looking down at the mat in shame when I saw how she was getting frustrated by my lack of understanding of even the simplest motions and stances she was doing. "I'm just hopeless at this."

"No, you're not," Toni tried to reassure me, but I couldn't believe her. She was so graceful and refined in her motions and actions, and in comparison, I was a total klutz.

"It's so natural and easy for you. I can't even see what you're doing because you make it look too easy, and it's not." It was discouraging to try to work with Toni, because she was such a natural that she'd never gone through a long learning-curve, and thus couldn't sympathize with me. "I'm sorry I'm wasting your time."

Toni spun, and then did a walkover to my side, where she wrapped me in a hug. "You're _not_ hopeless," she repeated. After she finished a brief embrace, she started pacing and thinking. "Hmmm," she muttered to herself. "Charge, Headrush," she called out, doing a back handspring toward them, "line up on either side of Kayda, and you go through the basic kata slowly, while I watch and help her."

That was a little more successful; I followed along the other two girls, while Toni bounced around me, pausing in her critical observation to correct my stance or the motion of my hands and arms. We did that six or seven times, and then she backed off and we all went through it more quickly. It was rough, so Toni had us do the part of the kata again. As we went through it a third time, she flipped and bounced to get some pads.

"Okay," she announced when we finished those steps. "Let's work on some basic strikes that are part of that kata." She handed Adalie a large sparring pad and then demonstrated some basic strikes like knife-hand, ridge-hand, and jab. She took the pad and had Adalie slowly perform the strikes, which I could see was difficult for the French speedster. Then I performed them into the pad Adalie held while Toni leaped and bounced all around us, observing my strikes from various angles and correcting me when necessary. It was a struggle to get the movements to be fluid. I traded roles with Adalie while Alicia practiced against Toni.

"Why didn't you ask Ayla to help," Toni said as we peeled off our gis after nearly two hours of practice. "He knows this well enough to teach."

"And he's less hyperactive," Alicia said with a grin.

I winced. "I ... can't," I said softly.

"Why not?" Alicia asked the obvious question.

I closed my eyes, tilting my head forward. "I ... I just can't," I said again. "You know that, Toni," I added.

"Why not?" Adalie asked, now curious.

Toni, bless her heart, realized what I was implying. "Oh. Yeah, I forgot," she replied, careful to not spill my private secret and horror.

"What?" Alicia and Adalie asked almost in unison.

"It's ... it's personal," I muttered. "I'd rather not talk about it." Thankfully, neither girl pursued further discussion or questions about the sensitive subject.

On our way back to Poe, we passed by Melville, where Adalie and Alicia lived. Adalie reminded me of my promise to help her with math later, and then Toni and I continued back to Poe.

"You know you're going to have to spar with boys eventually," Toni reminded me.

"Yeah," I mumbled, grateful that the pathway between Poe and Melville was deserted. "I know. But ... I can't. Not yet."

"You know Ayles wouldn't do anything."

"It's just ... I ... I can't. Just thinking about it makes me ...." I barely suppressed a shudder.

"Ayles is probably going to want to help you somehow in exchange for helping him with his math," Toni added.

"I know," I said. "I would if it were me."

"I'm just warning you so you won't be surprised if you find a gold-filigreed tomahawk in your room as payment for the assistance," Toni giggled.

"He wouldn't!" I said, my mouth agape.

"He might. It's a funny rich white boy thing he's afflicted with," Toni said with a laugh.

* * * * * * * * * *

Crystal Hall, dinnertime

The Gearheads were back at dinnertime, and from the buzz around the caf that nearly bowled us over when we walked in the door, they'd had a good day. The noise level seemed a little higher than normal as they talked with their friends about their testing, each talking a little louder than usual to be heard above the background din, with the result that _everyone_ had to talk louder. It was pretty obvious, too, from the windburns and wind-blown hair, who had been at the salt flats with the Gearheads.

After the martial arts practice session and a shower, I'd decided to wear my buckskin dress, including earrings that dangled like miniature dream catchers, and beaded thongs tying my hair. Despite the urging of Evvie, I'd resisted the notion of putting on my paint; it seemed a little much for a Sunday evening dinner.

"Are rather quiet, Kayda," Vasiliy interrupted my private thoughts as we took our place in line.

I was startled out of my thoughts and snapped my head toward him. "What?"

"You contribute nothing to conversation tonight," he continued. "You are thinking of something, perhaps?"

"Are you okay, Kayda?" Adrian asked, gazing at me. "You look very ... distracted."

I shrugged, sighing. "I'm okay." I doubted that I sounded convincing. I glanced around, looking for a way to distract the conversation from me. "I wonder what _that_ is all about," I changed to subject, indicating a tarp covered mass of struts and gear that had been assembled near the waterfall about the center of the dome.

"I dunno. It's something that bunch of newbies that came in with the Angel of Hell's Kitchen were working on," Laurie replied, staring at the huge mess as well.

I figured then that part of the abnormally-loud uproar was speculation about the mysterious structure, and not just about the Gearheads. I latched onto that explanation, because it downplayed the attention that seemed to be focused on the group that I so desperately wanted to join, but was afraid to pursue.

As we waited in an immobile line for food, staring like everyone else at the contraption, a boy of maybe 14 or 15 with a brush of fair hair tucked under a floppy green velvet cap came out dressed in something out of a Ren fair, with a green velvet vest of some sort that matched the cap, linen sleeves, and tight pants. He was carrying a long brass trumpet with a flag of green velvet draping from it. When he was sure that everyone was staring at him at him, he raised the trumpets to his lips and blew a credible fanfare. As the lights in the Crystal Dome obligingly lowered, he tucked the horn under his arm and stalked off.

A spotlight shown down from above onto the assemblage, now devoid of the covering tarp, which was revealed to be a small steep hill covered with impenetrable thorny vines studded with lurid red roses, among which venomous serpents coiled and writhed. Atop the hill, nestled among a bower with sprays of tiny white flowers, resting in state on a catafalque, was a slender female figure in a sapphire blue gown that was tastefully draped over the edge of the pedestal, her long flowing golden locks also decorously arranged, and a delicate veil of lace covered her face. For a moment, a flute played a serene yet wistful refrain.

"What the hell?" Evvie whispered loudly, receiving replies of 'shhh' from all the curious around her who were likewise entranced by the strange spectacle.

Another chorus of trumpet fanfare blared as another spotlight lanced to the floor, where a glorious white stallion appeared. Riding the princely charger was an equally princely figure, a slender youth draped in regal vestments of purple-and-white silk with ermine trimming. The large ruby medallion upon his chest was matched by the eight rubies in an elegant gold crown that topped his pageboy-trimmed head. His face was the visage of a young fey warrior-poet, almost too delicate and refined, but not quite.

The young paragon of romance looked to the hillock's summit and spotted the young princess. As the brasses were joined by strings and percussion, he reared his steed, and valiantly they essayed the hillside, but the thorns and serpents were too much for the noble charger, so the princeling dismounted and drew a sword that was suspiciously large for such a slender scabbard. As the music swelled to heights of epic grandeur, he hewed at hedge that kept him from the goal of his quest. Halfway up the hillside, a chorale joined the orchestration, and climbed to Wagnerian efforts as the Prince conquered the summit.

The orchestration faded to a single violin and a solo soprano descant as the Prince leaned over the lady's supine figure and paused. There was that brief, tender pristine moment, and then the Prince lifted the veil to reveal-

-a pebbly blue face of pseudo- reptilian horror. As he goggled in horror, 'her' eyes fluttered open, and 'she' said in a glorious baritone, "My Prince!" and clutched at him to kiss him.

The Prince reeled, stammering lame excuses that sounded even worse than blatant insults. Stumbling back from the reptilian princess, he tripped and rolled down from the hilltop, flailing through the thorny vines that tore at his regal clothing until it hung in tatters about his slender frame. He bounced, and a stray branch caught him by the seat of his pants, giving him a noticeable wedgie that made him give a falsetto gasp that rang throughout the cafeteria. Every guy hunched over a bit at the display, secretly sympathizing with the Prince even while they laughed at his predicament. The Prince bounced on that branch once or twice before it snapped, sending him sprawling face-first into the thicket.

As the Prince frantically struggled through the briars, the 'Princess' wafted down from the hilltop unimpeded, to help her 'rescuer'. The Prince just barely managed to make it to the saddle of his horse, which bolted at the sight of the 'Princess' and ran off before the Prince could get a proper seat, and dragged him along on the ground from one stirrup, as the Princess chased them off into the darkness.

The spotlights faded, and after a brief interlude, punctuated by titters and chuckles, the house lights came back up. Slowly, the applause began here and there in the room, until it became a crescendo of admiration for the evening's dining entertainment.

"Those guys are such clowns," a guy near us in line guffawed.

"Entertaining, though," a girl beside him laughed. "We should demand that they do something silly every weekend."

The guy groaned. "You _want_ them to start acting like this every weekend?"

"Ewww!" the girl replied in shock. "No way!"

I nudged Evvie. "Who was that?"

As if on cue, a somewhat shorter, slender boy with a rather androgynous, delicate face strolled into the cafeteria, accompanied by a very large, tall hulking boy with a rather frog-like or reptilian appearance. The smaller boy looked like a Johnny Depp / Tim Burton version of Willy Wonka, even to the Edwardian waistcoat, ascot, and high silk hat, which he doffed and swept in front of him as the unlikely pair took a deep bow. The larger boy, now bereft of the dress and wig, looked a little embarrassed, but he, too, bowed. An assortment of cheers, catcalls, whistles, and boos arose from the assembled crowd, and his second bow and smile acknowledged the former and ignored the latter.

"Those guys are Robert Rose, with a whole ton of middle names that all start with R, and Froggy," Laurie explained.

"Bob Rose is an ectoplasmic manifestor. His partner in that theatrical crime is Baird Frobisher," Adrian added.

"Rose is as good as Beltane," Evvie added unnecessarily for my benefit.

I groaned. "Is he as much a trickster as Beltane?"

"The two are a matched pair," Adrian chuckled. "Their pranking and counter-pranking is pretty infamous, and sometimes, it catches the spectators."

"That's ... wonderful," I deadpanned. The thought of two like Beltane wasn't comforting.

"And Robert has a very strange fascination with Nacht," Laurie added. "She's one of the Seeds, and is as uninterested in him as he's interested in her."

"Do they do this often?"

Vasiliy laughed aloud. "No. Stage show is unusual. Normally they make spectacle in quad each week."

I shook my head, unable to keep from laughing at the absurd stage-play the pair had created.

"Oh, crap," Evvie said, holding her hand against her open mouth in mock horror. "Kayda is laughing! The end is surely nigh!"

I changed my amused grin into a scowl. "I am _not_ that bad!"

A guy ahead of us in the now-moving line heard me and turned, looking up and down my figure appreciatively. "Definitely _not_!" he said with a leer that sent a shiver rippling up and down my spine repeatedly. He nudged a friend next to him. "I'm sure that's _her_," he said loudly enough that I could hear.

The friend turned, and his eyes widened. "Oh, yeah," he said, practically licking his lips in a disgustingly lustful display. "I wish she'd pose with _me_!"

"You and me both!" the first guy said, leering.

I stood, shocked at their publicly lecherous behavior, and puzzled at what they meant. Evvie and Laurie, though, had noticed, and they stepped between me and the two guys, their arms crossed over their chests. I couldn't see the looks on their faces, but judging from their stance, they were probably giving the two a withering stare of extreme disapproval. From Laurie, it would have been intimidating. From Evvie, it probably seemed life-threatening. The two guys turned away quickly, trying to shuffle away from us in the slowly-moving line.

"What the hell was that about?" I asked myself. The dinner hour was already confusing - first, there was my undeniable envy of the Gearheads, which made me feel left out again. Then there was the absurdity of the little twisted fairy-tale vignette, followed closely by the mysterious attention I'd garnered from two guys I didn't know. I hoped the night wouldn't get worse or more confusing.

* * * * * * * * * *

Melville Cottage

I stopped at what appeared to be a concierge desk in the entrance hall of Melville. I felt a little intimidated by the displays of wealth around me from all the A-listers who lived in the exclusive residence hall. The inside of the cottage reflected that prestige; the main ground-floor hall of Poe, and I presumed the other older cottages, was quaint and old-timey, but the entrance to Melville was regal in comparison.

"May I help you?" a girl asked from the desk, interrupting my gawking at the openly-displayed status about the cottage.

"Uh, yeah," I stammered, taken by surprise by her sudden appearance. "I'm supposed to meet Charge to help her with her math."

Three guys walked across the lobby, but their eyes locked onto me and tracked me as they continued to walk. It was more than a little discomforting; it was positively creepy

"She looks a _lot_ better in person," one of the guys muttered softly, but loud enough that I overheard.

"If Fey's a ten, she's at least a nine point eight."

"Why can't she live in _our_ cottage so we could watch that every day?"

I turned my back on the offensive talk, fuming. I was absolutely certain that they were talking about me because I'd listened to more than my share of locker-room and hallway talk about pretty girls.

The concierge girl shot an envious glare at me, as if all those unwelcome comments were somehow my fault. Part of my brain reacted in rage, wanting to slap the girl for her rude behavior, while another part of me recalled how catty girls could be, especially when they were jealous of one another. Damn. Was she going to dislike me just because I looked better?

"Charge is in room four oh seven. The elevators are over there." She pointed across the entry hall to a bank of elevators in a nook off the main hallway.

"Thank you," I said politely, forcing myself to ignore her bad attitude. Ignoring the guys who I _knew_ were staring - some obviously, and some subtly - I crossed to the elevator, pressed the button, and waited. It wasn't long before the doors chimed open and the elevator disgorged a few students. Frowning angrily so as to discourage any who stared at me, I scooted around them and pressed the "four" button. As the doors closed, I started to relax as I was free of the sudden unwanted attention I seemed to be finding.

The door halted, and then opened back up, and a towering hulk of a boy stepped in. He smiled at me, ignoring my angry scowl, and stretched his arm in front of me to push the 'eight' button. Slowly the door closed again.

"This one is Kodiak, the spirit of the wild earth," Wakan Tanka warned me. She was scowling in a way I had rarely seen, so I knew she was not happy about seeing him.

"Who is he?"

"He was associated with the five-fold courts. He is unpredictable. He ignored the People in our time of need, choosing instead to assist the Sidhe and others of the courts," Wakan Tanka explained, concerned.

"What should I do" I asked, concerned.

"Do not trust him. He is not trustworthy."

"What are you staring at, little lady?" the boy asked with a curious smile.

"My spirit warned me about you, Kodiak," I answered gruffly.

Kodiak's eyes widened in surprise. "Your spirit knows me?" he asked. "Or have others been spreading rumors about me again?"

"My spirit knows you. And I've heard a few rumors about you, too."

He threw back his head and laughed aloud. "You seem to have me at a disadvantage. The only thing I know about you is that you're a new student and you've been in trouble with security an awful lot in your short time here." He smiled deferentially. "I'm Wyatt Cody, better known as Kodiak." He watched my expression with a wry smile. "So your guess wasn't too far off."

"It wasn't a guess," I answered, watching him warily. "My spirit doesn't trust you."

Wyatt laughed aloud. "That's not exactly a friendly way to introduce yourself."

"She's very old, and very wise. If she said that she knows the Spirit of the Wild Earth, and that I should be careful, then I'm not going to argue with her."

"You could at least be polite enough to introduce yourself," he said, never wavering from his friendly smile.

"Okay," I conceded that he had a point about manners. "I'm Kayda Franks. Freshman. And I am _not_ interested."

"What makes you think that I am?"

I scowled. "I know how guys like you think," I replied acidly. "Campus jocks, big men, and hot-shots who think they can smile at a girl and lure them into bed."

"You wound me," he said, clutching his hand over his heart. "Do you think that's all I would be interested in?"

"You didn't exactly deny what I said," I commented.

Cody laughed again. "Well, your instincts are correct. Or were. But now, I have no interest in you, or in anyone other than my girlfriend."

The elevator dinged as it slowed. "Okay," I said hesitantly. "I'll accept that. But if she dumps you, don't even think that I'd ever be interested in you. And not just because of your spirit, either."

"Who is your spirit that claims to know me?" Cody asked, bemused.

I stepped through the doors. "She'd prefer to remain anonymous," I answered bluntly. I looked at the signage, turning toward room four oh seven.

"I'll find out who your spirit is," Cody chuckled behind me as the doors slid shut. "I can always ask the bear, because if your spirit knows him, then he probably knows your spirit!"

I got a few stares from various guys and girls in the halls, including one of the Drow girls who went into the room adjacent to where Charge and Alicia supposedly resided. I stared for a moment or two, and then knocked on the door of Charge's room.

"Who is it?" I heard Charge's voice on the other side of the door.

"Ah'll get it," Alicia's voice called. Alicia recognized me as soon as she opened the door. "Kayda!" she called enthusiastically before wrapping me in a hug. "Ah want t' thank y'all for lettin' me help this afternoon. Ah need to work on mah martial arts a lot, too. C'mon in," she said, stepping aside so I could enter.

The rooms in Melville were a little nicer than in Poe, as expected. Not only that, but they were warm, unlike the drafty, uninsulated windows and walls we had to deal with. But even as I compared the rooms, I knew that the sense of community in Poe, with our shared secrets, was something that would be difficult for me to give up. The A-listers and snobs I'd already encountered were contrary to my background, upbringing, and expectations.

Adalie rose from her desk, on which was a mess of papers around an open math book. "I'm so 'appy that you've come to 'elp me," she said, gratitude in her voice.

"Yeah, me, too," Alicia chuckled. "Maybe y'all can help her so she quits gripin' about math all night and we can watch our movie!"

"Your outfit - it is so cute!" Adalie said enviously, ignoring her roommate. "I 'ave never seen a Native American - is that right?" she paused to see if she'd gotten the wording right. When I nodded, she continued. "I 'ave never seen such an outfit. Is it really authentic?"

I chuckled. "The designer took a few liberties," I answered, sitting down in Alicia's chair which Alicia had pulled next to Adalie's desk for me. "I don't think they wore dresses with skirts this short or necklines this low."

"You certainly 'ave the figure to make it look good," Adalie repeated.

"I don't think you want to spend the whole night talking fashion," I chuckled, "unless you're stalling to avoid doing algebra."

Adalie blushed. "Per'aps," she admitted. "I am not good at it, and most of the lessons confuse me."

It took a while to help Adalie with her math; when she started on a problem, it quickly became apparent that some earlier concepts weren't clear to her, so we had to back up several times. Eventually, though, she had her daily homework completed.

"You're going to have to back up as you work problems to make sure you have the basic concepts down," I cautioned her.

"Oui," Adalie said, concerned. "But often I do not know 'ow to recognize which parts I don't understand."

"If you get confused, ask for help before you get so far behind again," I advised her.

"Would y'all like t' stick around for a movie?" Alicia asked eagerly.

"Oui," Adalie chimed in. "It is a French love story."

"Which means it's a borin' black-n-white movie with bad subtitles and a confusin' plot!" Alicia teased. In response, Adalie stuck out her tongue at Alicia.

"I'd like to," I said, realizing that these two were also quickly becoming my friends - I hoped. "But I have to get back to finish my own homework. I'm a little behind in French."

"French?" Alicia asked. "Y'all can ask us. Mah folks speak French back home, and of course Adalie is from France!"

"Thanks," I replied, "but I don't want to spoil your evenings. "There are a few girls in Poe I can get help from." I stood and walked to the door. "I'll see you in class tomorrow, I guess."

"Oui," Adalie said, leaping to her feet and giving me a hug. "Merci for the 'elp. I would be up very late and still not get the math right if you 'adn't 'elped."

Alicia nodded. "And Ah learned some from watchin' and listenin' t' ya. Y'all can come by any time. 'Specially when Ah make up a batch o' Cajun gumbo!"

"Thanks," I said, not sure if I should consider that a welcome invitation. I had no idea what Alicia was talking about. With that, I went back to Poe, pausing to activate my shield spell before stepping out into the cool night air - after waiting for my security escort, as I was required to do. I wasn't going to ignore my restrictions _all_ the time.

* * * * * * * * * *

Poe Cottage

There was a spring in my step in the few paces between the bathroom and my room's door; Bunny was giving me a strange look, like my whistling happily was an ill omen of something bad. "Nite," I said to her with a smile before slipping into my room.

Behind me, she _had_ to have been thinking that I'd been using the Hydroflux since I was in such a good mood. I smiled to myself; a few days ago, I'd have died of embarrassment at the thought of using the special shower hardware. With that, I staggered as I realized that it hadn't even been five weeks since my life had changed so radically.

I sank onto the bed, my robe hanging open, as I thought about the enormity of changes in my life. I manifested as a mutant, changed gender, and looked fully like a Native American girl. I was almost killed twice, was brutalized, and met Debra after fleeing my home town. I'd been almost hurt or killed as a bystander in a jewelry-store robbery, attacked in the dream realm, then in real-life by enemies of Wakan Tanka, the very powerful entity whose emissary I was. I'd been psychically attacked, hit with slushballs, pushed telekinetically, and smashed with an ice ball. I'd been humiliated and tormented by an unreasonable class schedule, and bullied by an advisor. I'd been hospitalized, not once, but three times, once due to a PTSD event. I'd met an ancient antagonist who'd messed up my magic and humiliated me. I'd had PTSD events on two other occasions, both of which left me shaken. I'd had a security guard try to murder me. I was too late for joining most of the campus group, so I felt a little left out.

But I was smiling. I'd survived it all, and in the process, had made some friends.

I wasn't stupid enough to think that all my troubles were over - not by a long-shot. More trouble lay in wait for me, of that I was certain. But after enough talkings-to by animal spirits, after being chided so frequently by Wakan Tanka and Tatanka, after so many visits with Dr. Bellows, maybe I'd decided it was time to quit feeling sorry for myself and to start enjoying life, like Ptan did.

Thinking of playing with Ptan and her pup in the river put a smile on my face. That short time frolicking had been very relaxing in a way that I desperately needed without realizing it. And then sharing that play with Debra in a dream walk had made it even more special.

I glanced at my alarm clock, which read ten-thirty, which meant it was nine-thirty in Sioux Falls. It wasn't bed-time for Debra yet, but I could always call her.

Still in my open robe, and not caring, I lay back on my bed and picked up my phone, dialing a number that I'd long since memorized. It was a wonder that the numbers hadn't been worn off the keys from overuse.

"Hello?" Debra answered hesitantly.

"Hi, sweetie," I purred into the phone. "I was just thinking about you."

"I wondered if you were going to call, my love," Debra answered, her voice a siren call begging me to crawl through the phone line to be with her.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked. "I love hearing the sound of your voice."

"And I yours," Debra cooed. "You sound happy tonight! Been using that special hardware in the shower again?"

I'm sure Debra could _hear_ my blush through the phone. "No," I said, beet-red with embarrassment. "I don't have to use that to sound happy, do I?"

She laughed. "No. I know how to make you really happy when we dream-walk, and there's no shower involved!"

My toes had escaped the first blush, but they couldn't escape this one. I must have looked like a boiled lobster from blushing so hard.

"Really," she continued after giggle some, "what's up? Why do you sound so happy?" She paused dramatically. "Especially without me being there with you?"

"I was thinking," I started contemplatively.

"Did it hurt?" Debra joked, interrupting me.

I couldn't help but laugh with her. "It's ... I don't know. Something seems different today."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." I felt like I was stumbling about for words. "It's like ... I ... sort of fit in," I said, frowning. "If that makes any sense."

"It makes perfect sense." Debra's happiness carried through the phone to me. "I told you that things would work out."

"I got my schedule straightened out..."

"You told me," Debra reminded me.

"And I ... I think I finally got my head on straight about martial arts."

"You didn't sound so sure of that last night."

"Last night I was ... pretty bummed about everything that happened."

"Yeah," Debra agreed. "And I was scared for you! Please don't do that again!" I could hear the fear and concern in her voice.

"I promise you that I'll try to never, get shot again," I vowed solemnly.

"Or any of the other stuff!" She sounded genuinely frightened and worried.

"Not on purpose," I said. "Cross my heart. But at least you know how I feel every time you go out to stop a crime or something."

Debra was silent for a moment. "That's fair, I guess. Tell me what happened to make you be happy - not that I'm objecting to you being happy, mind you."

I chuckled. "Tatanka would tell you that I was being stubborn."

"He would be right!"

It didn't do any good, but I still stuck my tongue out at the phone. "I don't know - maybe I was being stubborn," I admitted. "I've listened to more than a few of the animal spirits telling me that I needed to be less stubborn and stuck-up."

"Well, they were right! When are you going to introduce me to some more of them? The hummingbird ..."

"Thanagila," I interrupted.

"Yeah. He was pretty. And he had some good advice for you."

"And Ptan and her pup. You seemed to enjoy playing with them as much as I did!"

"When can we do that again?" Debra asked eagerly. She _had_ enjoyed playing in the mud slide and river, as I suspected.

"Soon." I paused, thinking. "I guess there are two things."

"Two?"

"Yeah. You know I told you about Rosalyn pranking me."

"I remember."

"Well, the thing that got me thinking is that she was having fun pulling my leg, until she knew it was time to be honest so I wouldn't worry. She had balance, like Ptan and Thanagila said I needed."

"Mmmm. There could be something to that."

"The other thing," I continued, "is that _I_ sort of pranked a couple of troublemakers today. You might know them - Solange and the Don?"

"Solange? That miserable, wretched excuse for a despicable human being?" I could tell that she was nearly livid with just Tansy's code-name. "Don't tell me that she hasn't been kicked out yet?"

"Nope, she's still around, and probably bitchier than you remember. Ayla told me that she was dumped from the Alphas earlier this year."

"No! And I wasn't there to see it? Damn! I know a _lot_ of people who would have paid a lot to see that!"

"And the Don got kicked out, too."

"He should be in prison," Debra hissed, "after what he did to Skybolt and Cav! They were nice, until he turned them into mind-slaves!"

"Ayla told me that it wasn't the Don; it was Hekate practicing some really dark magic."

"Hekate? Really?"

"Yeah, but she's gone, too. She's wanted by half the world's law enforcement agencies."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer girl! Now tell me, what did you do to Tansy and the Don?"

I gave Debra a detailed recounting of the events, including - and lingering on - the psychic head-butt that Tatanka gave to both of them. "Tansy ended up with a bad headache, and the Don was knocked on his ass!"

Debra roared with laughter. "What did security say when they showed up?"

It was my turn to laugh. "They were right there, providing me a safety escort. The two of them were over a barrel; they couldn't claim that I psychically assaulted them without agreeing to mental scans to confirm their accusations, which would have revealed that they'd tried it on me. And they couldn't claim physical assault, because I hadn't touched them. And then, to make it sweeter, I didn't file a complaint, so they were humiliated in public and couldn't do anything about it!"

"That's my sweetie!" Debra said. "I'm proud of how you handled that."

"It was .... a bit scary," I admitted softly. "The Don was trying to influence me, and he might have if Tatanka hadn't been guarding me. But I kept my cool and didn't have an episode or collapse or anything!" I added proudly.

"Good for you!"

"There is one thing that made me a little sad today, though," I admitted.

"What's that?"

"It was Gearhead Day, so all those guys were out at the salt flats with their cars. It reminded me that I won't get to work on Grandpa's car for a long time."

"Why not?" Debra asked.

"Because," I began to explain, "like all the other groups, they already rushed their members for the term, so I doubt they'd let me join, and you have to be a member to have a car on campus to work on."

"I'm sure ...."

"And I'm not in the technology track, which I'd have to be. Besides," I added softly, "with my schedule, I just wouldn't have time."

"And what else?" Debra demanded.

I sighed heavily. "It's ...." I shook my head, searching for words. "They're so ... intimidating!" I finally stammered. "Loophole has half a dozen or more patents, and they say her car does over three hundred, and everyone talks about her like she's a total mechanical genius." I sighed again. "I don't want to work where I'm the dumbest one in the shop and everyone else is telling me what I'm doing wrong or how to make what I'm working on better."

"Kayda," Debra chided me, "quit feeling sorry for yourself and introduce yourself to them."

"I can't do _that_!" I protested. "I'd ... I'd look like a desperate loser trying to push my way into their group!"

"This isn't third grade," Debra scolded, "and the lab-coat crew are very accepting of people who like building things. Especially pretty girls."

"Even if I _did_ join," I sighed heavily, "my car is back there, and I'm way out here. Maybe I'll try again after next summer. Maybe by the fall term, I'll have the car fixed enough to drive out here, and then I could work on it some more."

I changed the subject, and Debra and I chatted for almost two hours. Finally, when Evvie flopped noisily over once more, indicating not so subtly that she was trying to sleep, I figured I better end the call. She'd come back to the room late, and had spent at least the previous forty-five minutes trying to ignore my voice, even though I was trying to be quiet.

"I'd better let my roommate get some sleep," I said sadly. "And I've got classes early in the morning, too. I'll see you in the dream-world in a bit, okay?"

"Sounds like fun," Debra agreed.

"And maybe you can figure out what I'm going to do about Rosalyn," I added. "She's getting on my nerves."

"Hmmm," Debra thought. "I might have an idea." She smiled. "Do you want to prank her?"

"Most definitely," I answered eagerly.

"Okay, here's what you can do ....."

* * * * * * * * * *

Franks Family Home, South Dakota

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted Mr. Franks' concentration. He glanced at the clock; it was well after eleven in the evening. Unhappily, he put down his newspaper and pulled himself out of his recliner, and then strode to a window where he could see the large drive/parking area of the farm, around which were various farm buildings and the house. He frowned at the sight which greeted his tired eyes - the sheriff's car was just pulling to a halt.

Mr. Franks groaned at the unwelcome intrusion, knowing that the sheriff wasn't going to be here at that late hour on pleasant business. In a mudroom just off the kitchen, he slipped on his jacket and then retrieved his 1911 pistol, sliding the bulky firearm into a pocket of his jacket. By the time he opened the door, the sheriff was striding toward the house. Judging by his posture and the way he was walking, Sheriff Clarkson wasn't a happy man.

"Sheriff," Mr. Franks said to acknowledge the man's presence, but without even the slightest hint of warmth or friendliness in his voice.

Clarkson wasn't being even marginally polite. "Where is it, Franks?" he demanded.

Mr. Franks' eyes narrowed; he was pretty sure the sheriff was referring to Kayda. "Where is what?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"Your mutant. Where is it?" Clarkson demanded again. "Bring it out here."

"My _daughter_ is a person, not a thing," Mr. Franks growled at the sheriff. "And you know that she's not here; thanks to you assholes, she had to go to a private boarding school."

Clarkson glared at Mr. Franks. "Then you won't mind if I look around to make sure that you're not hiding it around here."

"Not without a warrant, you won't," Mr. Franks replied angrily.

"I _knew_ you were hiding that piece of gene scum," Clarkson growled. "I have probable cause to look for it."

"Not without a warrant, you don't," Mr. Franks repeated.

"I can search if I want to," Clarkson moved his hand down his leg toward his service pistol.

"Are you threatening me?" Mr. Franks asked, clenching his jaw. "Because I'm playing by the rules. No warrant, no search."

"You want to play it that way?" Clarkson sneered, "then fine. I'll get a warrant, and then we'll tear this place apart looking for that filthy mutant. And while the judge gets the warrant written, I'll just stay here to make sure you don't try to move it."

"Not on my property, you won't," Mr. Franks said firmly.

"Fine." Clarkson backed down - a bit. "If you want to play that game, so be it."

"I'll cooperate, as long as you play the game by the rules," Mr. Franks continued, trying to sound at least a tiny bit cooperative. "You and all your Humanity First! goons know that Kayda isn't here anymore, not after you ran her out of town. No thanks to you, my child can't even stay at her own home."

"We don't want dangerous mutants around here!" the sheriff snapped.

"The only thing dangerous is that _you_ let her former friends get away with trying to kill her after they raped her!" Mr. Franks glowered. "So don't give me any of your self-righteous spiel about protecting the people."

"There's no evidence to support your accusations," Clarkson said, puffing up his chest.

"Thanks to you and Doc destroying or not even collecting evidence," Mr. Franks continued without emotion. He knew Clarkson was rabidly anti-mutant, and with a badge on his chest, the man could become dangerous quickly. "Now what's this all about? You didn't poke around here threatening me before. What changed?"

Clarkson glared at Mr. Franks briefly. "Some of the kids in town have received threats, and there has been physical action against their property, and now three of them were beaten."

"So naturally you suspect the one that you ran out of town, right?"

"They're all former friends of your mutant."

"And let me guess - they're also all the ones who were involved in the non-existent beatings and rape and attempted murder, right?"

"What beatings and rape?" Sheriff Clarkson snarled. He knew he'd been hemmed in perfectly by Mr. Franks; if he admitted the commonality as a reason to suspect the mutant, then he was tacitly admitting that crimes had taken place that his office hadn't investigated or had swept under the rug. If he didn't admit the connection, then he had no cause to be searching for that dangerous mutant.

"Oh, by the way," Mr. Franks said, his hands inside his jacket pockets and his fingers on the grip of his pistol - just in case, "I've still got Senator Jennings' office, and the state police, on speed dial - just in case someone tries something stupid. We wouldn't want that, now, would we?"

Clarkson fumed. "No, we wouldn't."

"Then good evening," Mr. Franks said, turning to go back into his house, leaving the sheriff with an implicit invitation to leave. At the door, he paused and turned back to Clarkson. "Oh, by the way, have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

Mr. Franks smiled. "Your buddies in the Sioux Falls MCO office have been arrested by the Department of Paranormal Activities for crimes against US Citizens. And based on evidence collected from their office, the East River chairman and deputy chairman of your Humanity First! friends were arrested for assault and property crimes against citizens as well. So it looks like you've lost some of your anti-mutant backup."

* * * * * * * * * *

Poe Cottage, Whateley Academy
Monday, March 26

"Good morning, sweetie," Rosalyn sang sweetly as she came out of the cafeteria to where I was waiting for my escort. She had a charming smile on her face, and a curious twinkle in her eye.

"I _have_ a sweetie," I replied, rolling my eyes. "I suppose you're my first-period escort again?"

"Of course," she said with a grin. To my horror, she clutched my arm, pulling me close, but not too close.

"What are you doing?" I hissed at her. "Are you trying to make everyone think ...."

"That we're friends?" she asked? "We are. We're just two friends walking to class and talking."

"Friends don't cling together like star-struck lovers," I countered angrily.

"Sure they do! Don't you watch any movies?" She giggled. "Oh wait, you fall asleep and have erotic dreams instead, don't you?"

My cheeks burned, and if I'd have had reservations about what Debra had suggested, they vanished in an instant. I opened my mouth to reply, but I couldn't think if an appropriate rejoinder, so I shut it again.

"We're having another movie night on Friday. You don't need an invitation, of course."

"You make it sound like you're asking me on a date."

Rosalyn chuckled. "Now you're catching on."

"Sorry, but my heart belongs to someone else."

"I'm not after your heart," Rosalyn said with a leering grin.

"I'm going to have to talk with Mrs. Horton about you," I threatened. "I'll tell her you're harassing me."

"Good luck with that," Rosalyn said sweetly. "As far as you can prove, I've been joking around with you. And _you_ were the one who was doing some, ahem, inappropriate touching while you were resting, not me."

My eyes nearly bugged out. "Oh, God!" I gasped. "You're going to blackmail me, aren't you?"

She laughed aloud. "No, I'm not. But that isn't a bad idea! Thanks." She watched me from the corner of her eye, seeing my shock at the corner I'd seemingly backed myself into. "Just kidding." She shook her head, smiling. "You've got to learn to lighten up a bit and not take everything so seriously."

"I'm still not coming to the hot-tub party," I said defiantly.

"You're so cute when you think it's your decision," she giggled. "We'll have to see."

"We're here, so you can go find someone else to torment," I said as we halted in front of Schuster Hall, where my avatars class met.

"No," Rosalyn said, smiling as she shook her head. "You're my ... special project ... for this term."

"I've got to get to class," I said, prying her arm off mine and starting into the building.

"Oh, Kayda?" Rosalyn asked, causing me to halt.

"Yes?"

"You really, really have a nice touch. You must have practiced a lot," she whispered, smiling. "You made me curious whether you're as good with your lips and tongue."

"Ohhh, you!" I protested firmly and completely flustered. "You're ... impossible."

"You can have an erotic nap on my shoulder any time you want. You know where I live." She turned and sauntered off, pausing to blow me a kiss.

* * * * * * * * * *

Crystal Hall, lunchtime

Conversation around our table abruptly halted, and heads turned to somewhere over my left shoulder. Expecting Stormwolf or Mindbird, I turned, to see what they wanted, only to have my jaw drop.

"Good afternoon, Kayda," Charlie Lodgeman said with a smile.

"Uh, yeah," I said uneasily. A trustee of the school didn't show up in the caf to chat with a mere student.

"If you've got a minute, there are a few things I need to talk with you about," he continued, still smiling.

His pleasant demeanor calmed my jangled nerves a bit, but I was still nervous. "I was just finishing up," I replied.

"We'll get your tray," Evvie volunteered.

"Thanks." I grabbed my book bag and walked with Mr. Lodgeman, knowing that many students were watching me and wondering what was going on. _I_ was wondering the same thing.

"I was assigned to be your advisor," he said casually, "so I thought I'd get to know you, at least better than when we met in Sioux Falls."

"Um, yeah. I suppose."

"We can go up to my office for a few minutes before you have to run to your next class. It's a bit less noisy," he added.

"Okay." I really didn't know what to say.

"I hear you've had an interesting time here so far," he continued as we rode the elevator.

"I guess that's one way to put it. It's not every student that has a security guard trying to kill her."

"I heard about that." He sounded a little reserved, as if he didn't want to talk about that in the hallways.

Once we got in his office, he shut the door and gestured for me to take a seat, while he sat behind his desk. The contrast between his office and the offices of Mrs. Hawkins and Dr. Bellows was marked; there were still-packed boxes piled up in corners, as if he hadn't moved in, or was preparing to move out.

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Let's start with your classes," he replied. "I see that Dr. Bellows covered for me and got your schedule changed. Are you happy with the changes?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Although I don't understand why I had so many classes when I'm technically a sophomore."

Mr. Lodgeman frowned. "We're trying to figure out what happened. For some reason, Mrs. Hawkins didn't get your transcripts, and had what appeared to be a request that you take very specific classes."

I frowned. "So someone was messing with me?"

"Might be," he replied. "I've put a request with Ms. Hartford to check into that." I scowled at the mention of her name, and I saw him smile wryly. "She and I don't always see eye-to-eye," he added.

"It's nice to be out of classes I've already taken. But now Dr. Quintain and Ms. Bell both want me to do work-study for them. I really didn't get back any free time, I guess."

"And I see a note from Mrs. Carson that your fourth period is special tutoring in martial arts." He nodded. "Given what's happened to you so far, I can't say that I disagree with that assessment."

"That means I've got a full day of classes, and then electronics after regular classes, and I'm supposed to tutor in math in my free time," I grumbled.

"It's better than getting bored."

I snorted distastefully. "After all the excitement of the past month, a little boredom would be a nice change."

Mr. Lodgeman chuckled. "Yeah, you have had a rather exciting month. Which brings me to the real reason I want to talk to you. What can you tell me about the attacks on you? More specifically, the dream-world attack, the Mishibijiw, and Officer Matthews?"

I shuddered at the rush of memories at the reminder. "The dream walk - that was an attack on Debra ...."

"Cornflower?"

"Yes. The snake demon attacked her to lure me into his dream space."

"Do you know the identity of the demon?"

"Yeah. Wakan Tanka said it's one of the spawn of Unhcegila."

Mr. Lodgeman frowned almost imperceptibly. "Not Unhcegila himself?"

"No," I felt the cold shiver again. "Wakan Tanka told me that if it had been Unhcegila and not just his offspring, I wouldn't have escaped."

"What did it feel like when you were near him?"

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Did you have any ... perceptions of him? Any feelings or sensations?"

"Besides creepy?" I thought a moment. "It was like ... there was nothing alive. There were _things_ in the dream world, but they didn't seem alive. Not like all the animal spirits. It was like there was a big empty space with nothing."

"And the snake-demon?"

"The same, but much stronger."

"Did you try to touch his mind?"

"No. I ... I was too scared."

Mr. Lodgeman nodded in understanding. "That's normal. You're probably lucky you didn't try. It's pretty ... tainted by its father, who's a Class X entity."

"Class X?"

"Somehow associated with the Great Old Ones, the ancient and very powerful gods who were once here. Touching - physically or mentally - anything related to the GOOs or their servitors is a very bad idea. It can physically twist a person's flesh and mind."

The shiver returned, even stronger. "Did ... did it hurt ... Debra? Because he ... made her ... carrying his own spawn."

"If Wakan Tanka didn't tell you otherwise, she should be okay." He leaned his elbows on his desk, steepling his fingers. "I want you to think about the attack by the Mishibijiw. Did you _feel_ anything from that?"

"Apart from the fact that Wakan Tanka thought he was insane, because she said they are peaceful and shouldn't have attacked us?"

"Yeah."

I bit my lower lip, trying to recall that battle. It had been so fast that I didn't really think about what had happened. "I ... I don't know. Wakan Tanka thinks that maybe the snake demon touched Mishibijiw's mind and drove it insane, too."

Mr. Lodgeman frowned. "I was hoping that you'd have some feeling about him to compare."

"Why? What's going on?"

"I'm working with the Homestake Paranormal Activities Research Center on these attacks. They recovered the ... remains ... of the Mishibijiw, and the man who'd touched it before they got it."

My jaw dropped. "Touched it? What ... what happened to him?"

Mr. Lodgeman shook his head. "His mind is gone. He's probably irrecoverably insane."

"But ... I ... touched it, too!" I cried, suddenly very afraid.

"When you fought it, yes," Mr. Lodgeman agreed. "Wakan Tanka should have been protecting you. Or you'd be twisted or insane now."

"Even when I ...." My voice trailed off.

"When you what?" Mr. Lodgeman asked, suddenly attentive and frowning.

"Wakan Tanka told me to ... cut off his spikes," I admitted. "She said they have powerful magic."

"You ... have the spikes?" He goggled, his jaw agape. "They're ... they're probably tainted and very dangerous!"

"Wakan Tanka taught me to remove the taint," I replied nervously. "I ... had to when Officer Matthews shot me, because the bullets were tainted too, and they made my injuries not heal."

"_You_ removed the Class X residue?" To call him astonished was an understatement.

"Wakan Tanka taught me."

"And ... do you still have the spikes?"

"Yeah. I got two of them purified this weekend, and there are six more. It takes a lot of essence to do that spell, and I can only do one at a time. Wakan Tanka said they'd be very powerful talismans that I could shape into something normal, like jewelry or such."

"Kayda," Mr. Lodgeman said sternly, "those things are _very_ dangerous! Where are they?"

"In my cottage," I replied nervously.

"You have to get them to Mystic Arts for safekeeping _immediately_!"

"Uh, okay," I stammered. I didn't think I'd get that kind of reaction from my having the spikes.

"And you can purify them?"

"Yes."

"I want you to talk to Ms. Grimes and arrange to have them stored in a _very_ safe place. I'd really like to send one to HPARC for them to study."

"Wakan Tanka told me that I shouldn't break up the set, because they'll be more powerful that way."

"Okay. We'll deal with that after you get them purified. What else can you tell me about the Mishibijiw?

I shook my head. "Not a lot, really."

"What about the attack by Matthews?"

The memories of that very recent attack had me trembling with fear. "It ... he ... he shot me," I stammered. "You can probably find out more from Chief Delarose."

"Kayda, this isn't an interrogation. Officer Matthews was ... contaminated by something," Mr. Lodgeman explained softly. "I'm trying to help HPARC figure out what's going on, because the first two were Native American spirits, and the third points that way."

I was sitting at the fire circle drinking tea with Wakan Tanka. "Why am I here?"

Wakan Tanka took a sip of the herbal tea. "You need to be more observant, Wihakayda," she said with a sad smile. "Did you learn nothing from Itukala?"

"He taught me that I should pay attention to everything around me, and make note of what the world is telling me."

"Very good, Wihakayda," she said, "but you need to apply that lesson better. You removed the taint from your wounds, right?"

"Yes." I was puzzled by the direction of this conversation.

"You also removed taint from two of the spikes, right?"

"Yes, but ...." Things suddenly clicked. "The taints - they felt the same. Kind of an awful, sick taste and smell and feeling."

"Taints from demons are unique. If you deal with the taint of one demon, you will forever remember the ... taste ... of that demon's taint."

"They're the same!" I exclaimed, back in Mr. Lodgeman's office from dream-space.

"What?"

"The Mishibijiw's spikes, and the bullets that wounded me - they're the same! Wakan Tanka helped me remember how they ... tasted. They're the same! They came from the same spirit."

Mr. Lodgeman's eyes narrowed. "Are you certain?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. They're the same." I saw his doubts. "What did they do with the bullets they took out of me, or out of the two guards Matthews shot? I ... I can compare them with a spike, to make sure. Or Ms. Grimes could help!"

Mr. Lodgeman nodded, but he was visibly wary. "I don't know if Ms. Grimes, or even Circe, could protect herself from that type of ... contamination."

"But ... what if Fubar was with me psychically when I did that? Wouldn't he be able to tell, too?"

I could almost see the gears turning in his mind. "Since I'm a shaman, too, I should be able to safely help," he said. "That just _might_ work!" He thought a bit more. "I'll talk to Fubar about it while you're in classes."

"Okay."

"After you take the remaining spikes to Mystic Arts."

I nodded. I didn't want to give them up, because Wakan Tanka had told me how powerful they could be for me, but I didn't doubt that they could be as dangerous as Mr. Lodgeman thought. "Okay."

"Good. Now before you go, Mrs. Carson said that you asked about learning traditional weapons and fighting skills."

"Yes," I replied after recovering from the minor mental whiplash of having the subject changed so abruptly. "Wakan Tanka wants me to learn to ride, to shoot horse-bow and use the lance, and to learn hand-to-hand traditional styles, including the knife and tomahawk."

"Good. Mrs. Carson is looking for a suitable tutor. As you can imagine, we don't have much call for traditional Native American fighting techniques here. What exists tends toward the ... eastern Asian fighting arts."

I chuckled. "I could claim discrimination against Native Americans."

Mr. Lodgeman smiled, and then shook his head. "That might work if all of the group wanted to learn more, but since you're the first one ...."

"The Nations."

"What?"

"The Nations," I repeated. "That's what I'm going to suggest that the group should be called, because most tribes thought of themselves as nations."

Mr. Lodgeman beamed. "I like the name - and the idea." His approval made me feel like I was finding my niche at Whateley.

* * * * * * * * * *

Laird Hall, 4th period Advanced Aikido

The locker room was full of girls who looked at me with suspicion as I changed, some noting none-too-subtly that I was in the wrong place. Evvie, Verdant, and many more girls - over a dozen, I guessed, were changing, and their friendly banter seemed to pause or halt whenever they glanced my direction. Even the Drow harem was keeping their distance from me, which really made me feel self-conscious.

When we got out to the mat, I saw that the girls weren't the only heavy-weights in the class. Ayla and Blot were only two of the talented ones. I took a place at the end of the line, sitting seiza like everyone else, and looking down to avoid the curious and suspicious stares directed my way. I was so wrapped up in being unobtrusive that I almost completely missed Senseis Tolman and Ito coming onto the mat. When I did look up, I saw that Sensei Tolman was looking at me impassively, which added to my self-doubt. It _had_ been her idea, after all, but I couldn’t help wondering if Sensei Ito approved of the idea, or was reluctantly just going along.

"Pejuta, front and center," Ito barked.

Surprised by his words, I scrambled to my feet and dashed across the mat to him. "Yes, Sensei," I said when I stopped in front of him, respectfully bowing very slightly.

"Class," Sensei Tolman began, "Pejuta will be joining our class for a couple of weeks for some ... intense training." I felt myself blushing down to the soles of my feet.

"You may or may not have heard of an incident on Friday. The details are not important, but an ... entity ... attacked her with the intent to kill her." There was a collective gasp, except for the grim expressions on Verdant, Ayla, and Evvie. "This was not the first attempt," she added, causing many of the girls to goggle at me, jaws dropped open. "Because of that, the administration and the Phys Ed department agreed that Kayda needs fast intensive training so she can better defend herself."

"Excuse me, Sensei," one girl piped up shyly.

"Yes, Aquerna?"

"Wouldn't that be a job for security?"

Sensei Tolman turned to me. "Kayda?" she asked, inviting me to answer - if I wanted.

"A demon possessed a security guard," I said softly. "That's who tried to ... kill me."

Ito decided to chime in. "If a demonic entity could sneak onto campus in a possessed security guard, we can't completely trust security. It will be best if she learns self-defense as well to augment anything security can do to ensure her safety."

"Due to some ... traumatic events," Sensei Tolman said, carefully avoiding details, "Pejuta will only train and spar with girls for the time being."

I was once again the subject of intense scrutiny, except for my fellow Poe girls, who knew the story. I wasn't going to provide any additional detail; I could trust the girls in Poe, but outside our cottage, I didn't want the rumor mill to go into warp drive.

Ito nodded. "A major part of learning anything is to learn to _teach_ the subject. The girls will take turns providing instruction, for a period of eight to ten minutes, and then they will rotate, so everyone will have a chance to instruct Kayda, as well as learn the material the rest of the class is working on each day." He turned to me. "You _will_ have to start fighting and learning with the boys, Kayda," he said firmly.

Trembling at the horrific thought, I nodded. "Yes, Sensei," I said, my voice quavering badly.

"Okay, normal groups, except Belphoebe," Tolman called out. "You have the first turn at instruction," she said to the Drow girl.

"Yes, Sensei," Belphoebe said nervously. Her slight British accent with her exotic white hair and coal-black skin and Sidhe ears was intriguing, even to me.

"Don't worry," Sensei Tolman said encouragingly, "I'll be supervising the instruction. But I _won't_ be with you all the time."

When the instructors directed, I walked to Belphoebe and bowed respectfully. "I'll try to be a good student," I said softly and meekly.

"And I'll try to be a good teacher," she replied to me with a smile. "You can call me Phoebe, or Feebs, if you wish. Most of the girls do."

"I'm Kayda," I reciprocated the informal introductions. "I'm nervous about this," I added as we walked to one side of the gym, apart from the other students.

"Mater is gloating insufferably," she said, nodding in the direction of another Drow. It was tough to distinguish one from another.

"Mater?"

"Jobe Ann Wilkins," Phoebe replied. "She had to give the rest of us a crash course in martial arts, which fortunately she'd had since she was a young boy."

"Boy?" My eyes were wide at that little revelation.

"I'll tell you the story some other time. If we don't start instruction, Sensei Tolman will become quite upset."

"Okay. I don't want her yelling at me. Or Ito."

"Agreed."

After instruction from Phoebe, I got brief sessions with Britomart, Adamantine, Aquerna, and Kismet. The one thing Sensei Tolman hadn't mentioned was that the girls doing the instruction were generally rested, while I was getting very fatigued by keeping up intensity for the entire class period. I think she - or Ito - were doing that by design. I was going to blame Ito - he was a sadistic little man, whereas Sensei Tolman had earned at least some respect, and thus the benefit of the doubt.

* * * * * * * * * *

Crystal Hall, dinnertime

The undercurrent of muttered comments and innuendo in the serving line was getting annoying, and by the time I picked up my tray, I realized that I was the focus of a lot of staring, leering and ogling, to say nothing of the whispered commentary.

"What the heck is going on?" I asked rhetorically.

"I don't know," Evvie answered, "but I can tell that when most of these guys are staring at you ...,"

"Yeah," I said bitterly, "I don't have to be an empath to know that I'm suddenly the center of attention of a bunch of horn-dogs."

"But why now?" Laurie asked, pausing a moment to stare down two guys who were staring at me.

"Hey, Buffalo Girl," one guy shouted from behind us in line. When I glared at him, he grinned and waved like he knew me, or I knew him.

I turned back to Evvie and Laurie. "I don't know what's going on," I fumed, "but it's annoying."

All through the serving line, guys were openly staring at me with more than slightly lustful expressions, and the longer it went on and the more guys that were staring at me, the more nervous I got, until by the time I got from the crowded serving line to the even-more-crowded checkout line, I was shaking so badly that I thought I was going to drop my tray - and I didn't care. I had to get out of there, away from all those creepy, leering stares that were closing in all around me.

Evvie must have recognized my growing panic, because she took my tray and set it on the checkout line, which was good, because as my hands were trembling and my shaking was worsening with every passing second, I was having a hard time holding it steady. No sooner had she set it down than she wrapped her arms around me, clutching me tightly. "It's okay, Kayda," she said.

I turned, but all around me were boys - hundreds of them, it seemed, pressing in on me, reaching for me, grabbing at me. "No!" I cried, trying to twist away, but everywhere I went, there were more, all pressing zombie-like toward me, all trying to touch and grasp me.

"Kayda!" a familiar, sharp, high-pitched voice called to me, barely audible above the din of the guys drone-like incantation of, "Want Kayda. Want Kayda." I turned, looking to see what was around me, but all I could see was a sea of guys.

The voice was joined by another, definitely female voice, calling out to me, "Kayda!" A third, and then a fourth voice joined in, struggling to be heard above the din of the guys.

"Kayda!" The haze slowly parted, the guys disappearing, replaced by a minor horde of students in the cafeteria. "Kayda, are you okay?" I slowly recognized Evvie's voice.

I turned, shaking violently. "Evvie?" I cried in a small, frightened voice.

"You're okay, Kayda," I heard Laurie saying from the other side of me.

I turned, looking at Evvie for some reassuring sign, and then at Laurie. Both were holding me tightly. Around me, the background roar of students had faded, and I looked cautiously, lip trembling and limbs shaking, to see what kind of disturbance I'd created. Unsurprisingly, many of the students in the food and checkout lines were silently staring at me, wondering what was happening to me.

"I've got to get out of here," I said softly but urgently to Evvie. "Please!" I added, almost begging.

"You're okay, Kayda," Evvie reassured me. "Let's get you checked out, and we'll get to the table."

"I want to go! Please!" I repeated, more insistently.

"Kayda," Evvie said firmly, "you can't run away from this forever. You can do it. We're right here with you."

I didn't know what to say, and I was so unsure of what to do that I let Laurie and Evvie lead me through the checkout line, and to our table, where Adrian, Vasiliy, and Naomi were waiting. Laurie gave Adrian some kind of silent signal, because he moved his tray to the other side of the table so I wouldn't be seated near a guy, but between herself and Naomi.

Adrian and Vasiliy were watching me uneasily, not really eating, as I sat, trembling, not sure I wanted to stay in the caf. I tried to pick up my fork, but I was shaking too much to even take a bite of food. I could feel that others were still watching me, and the panic wasn't fading. If anything, it was resurging.

"What are you guys staring at?" a strong, female voice snapped from behind me in a commanding tone. I recognized Mindbird immediately. When some of the guys turned away, she and another girl put their hands reassuringly on my shoulders.

"Are you okay, Kayda?" Mindbird asked, concerned.

"I ... I think ...." I shook my head. "I don't know." Drops were trying to leak from my eyes. "I ... I can't do this!" I cried, burying my face in my hands as I lost the battle of holding back my tears.

I guess I cried for four or five minutes before I got control of my emotions again. "I'm sorry," I apologized to the group, wiping my face. "I ... I want to go back to my room."

"What happened?" Naomi asked, concerned.

"Too many guys, all gawking at me," I said softly. "Why were they all staring at me? What's going on?"

Mindbird and Thunderfox shook their heads. "I don't know," Mindbird said.

"This kind of thing happens," Thunderfox tried to comfort me. "Every girl, at some time, feels panicked about guys."

"I suppose," I said morosely. It wasn't supposed to happen to me. I wasn't really a girl, or at least I hadn't been.

"While I'm here," Mindbird said, sitting down beside Naomi and talking in a calm, friendly manner, "can I talk you into a cup of your tea?" She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "There were a lot of pranks that got out of hand, and I'm kind of stressed."

"Spring fever," Thunderfox interjected.

"Yeah, so it was a busy afternoon."

"Sure," I answered unenthusiastically. I took my medicine pouch from my belt, while Mindbird went to get a cup of water. It didn't take me long to do the incantation and make two cups of tea - one for her, and one for myself. After a sip, some of my panic went away, but I was still trembling. I'd calmed down enough that I could actually hold the cup without slopping tea all over my lap and the table.

Mindbird took a sip, and she purred happily, sounding far less stressed. "Ooh, this _really_ hits the spot." She turned to her compatriot Thunderfox. "You really should try some."

Suddenly, there were three excited girls gathered around me. "Make me some, please!" Palantir begged.

"Me, too!" Clover and Abracadabra whined as they tried to crowd closer to me.

Mindbird shook her head. "You three, go away!" She sighed. "See what my day was like," she muttered to me.

"I taught you how to make it," I explained, trying to be patient.

Palantir frowned. "Abra lost the instructions," she groused.

"It wasn't my fault, Pally!" Abracadabra retorted.

"Stop calling me that!" Palantir retorted sharply. She turned back to me. "Please? I won't lose the instructions this time!"

I glanced at Evvie and Naomi, who were both trying to keep from laughing. "All right," I conceded. Once more. But this is the _last_ time, got it?"

"Okay," Palantir grudgingly agreed.

"And you two as well, got it?" I glared at the other two.

Abra and Clover glumly nodded.

"And since you lost the last one, this one means you owe me one."

The three little witches frowned, and then huddled. "I don't wanna owe her a favor," Clover complained.

"But we get essence out of the tea!" Palantir countered.

"What if she makes us do awful stuff to pay her back?" Abra whined.

"She's not like Tansy," Palantir argued.

Eventually, the huddle broke. "Okay," they all agreed in unison.

After I'd gone through the instructions - twice - and they'd written them down - again - the three made their tea. The amount of essence each could get was miniscule compared to mine, because they didn't have much to start with to liberate all the natural essence in the tea's ingredients.

As the three left, I saw Evvie and Mindbird exchange quick smiles. Shortly thereafter, Mindbird and Thunderfox left the table. I had my suspicions, but I kept my mouth shut until we got back to Poe.

"Okay," I demanded as soon as Naomi, Evvie, and I were in my room, "what was that all about?"

"What was _what_ about?" Evvie asked, glancing at Naomi nervously.

"It wasn't an accident that Mindbird and Thunderfox showed up, was it?"

Evvie grimaced. "No," she admitted softly. "I saw Mindbird, so I made a big emotional outburst that I knew she'd pick up. After that, she knew what I was thinking."

"You did all of that ... to distract me?" I asked, stunned.

"Yeah," Evvie winced.

"Including the three little witches?"

Evvie nodded again. From her expression, it was clear that she feared my reaction to the truth.

I think I surprised her when I wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Thanks," I said. "I guess I needed that." I opened one arm and drew Naomi into a three-way hug. I felt my cheeks moisten, but unlike earlier in the caf, this was from feeling so accepted and grateful for my friends that I was getting emotional.

* * * * * * * * * *

A knock interrupted my studies of Abstract Algebra, which I was trying to finally finish. "Come in," I said automatically as I slipped a bookmark at my location and put the text on my desk.

Ayla poked his head through the door. "Have you got a minute?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?" Reading his body language, I gathered that what he wanted to talk about was more than just a minute. "Evvie's in the library," I added, gesturing toward her chair.

As he sat down, I thought to myself that, at times, Ayla moved with very feminine grace, even though that idea would horrify him. I didn't completely suppress a chuckle when I recalled Toni's description of when Ayla had been approached by Loophole's brother in a colossal misunderstanding. I swear that girl could make a person's mother's funeral an amusing anecdote.

Ayla raised an eyebrow. "What?"

I shook my head, "Just thinking about what someone said yesterday in Laird." I gave a quick shrug and continued. "What's up?"

"I'd like to get a plan laid out for finishing pre-calc and calculus. Sections, timeline, quizzes, homework, test schedule, and your proposed grading structure."

I chuckled. "You make it sound like you're in a business negotiation."

Ayla smiled. "Isn't that what this is? Well-negotiated agreements avoid misunderstandings and disagreements, and ensure a successful deal. You want to be successful as a TA. I want to learn pre-calc and calc."

"It _does_ sound like a business deal."

"All good deals are win-win," Ayla stated, as if was the most obvious thing in the world.

I couldn't help but smile. "That's what my dad always said. You have to live with the same neighbors you do business with. That's hard if they feel like they got the short end of a deal."

"Basic business," Ayla said, smiling. "It amazes me how many people fail to live by that."

"I'm sure you didn't come to talk about business philosophy," I said, "so let's get back to the topic at hand. Your math classes."

"Okay."

"Do you think you can get this done, with everything else on your plate? You'll be doing two terms of math in one."

"Says the girl who does advanced math independent study," Ayla said with a grin.

"Touché," I said, smiling. "How do you want to proceed? Mini-lectures and demonstrating problems, and then giving you assignments? Self-study with problem-review? How rigid a schedule do you want?"

"Unlike you," Ayla replied, "I haven't done much math as self-study. Business, yes, but not math. So I'll defer to your judgment, but I would prefer a solid schedule."

"Maybe we should start out with mini-lectures and demonstration, and see how you do. You realize this is going to be a very aggressive schedule. You'll have two months to complete essentially two terms' worth of material."

Ayla smiled. "Perfect recall will help. It won't be difficult to remember the formulas."

"True, but knowing which formula to apply when is the tricky part. Did you bring your pre-calc book?"

"No. I wasn't sure whether you'd want to get started now or tomorrow."

"After a little work tonight, I'll write up a proposal for Ms. Bell so we have her approval."

Ayla's grin was telling. "I already wrote three variations of plans," he said. "I'll e-mail you the one that's closest, and you can do the updates and submit it for approval."

I kept my jaw from hitting the floor. Of course Ayla would have anticipated and written a plan. I shouldn't have been surprised. "One thing we'll need is a timeline," I added. "I would strongly suggest that you finish pre-calc by the end of the April. That'll give five and a half weeks for calc. At that pace, there will be four tests and a final, which would put one every week. I'm inclined to add one graded homework assignment per week and one quiz per week to keep an assessment of your progress."

"That seems reasonable."

"I propose using the same scale Ms. Bell uses for her class - twenty percent of the grade on quizzes and homework, fifty percent on the four intermediate tests, and thirty percent on the comprehensive final."

"Okay," Ayla said, nodding in agreement. "That should make it more likely to obtain her approval."

"If you go get your book, we can get started."

"You're making an assumption that Ms. Bell will approve of the study plan," Ayla said cautiously.

"This from the person that convinced Ms. Bell to do this whole cockamamie thing before I'd even agreed to be a TA?" I asked with a wry grin.

"Touché." Ayla left, returning moments later with his pre-calc book and a notebook.

I explained the next two sections in the book, working problems as I lectured, and then had Ayla do a few exercises in each section's problem set. Any doubts I might have had about him handling this aggressive approach were quickly laid to rest; he was a very diligent and attentive student. After the practice problems, I picked out several additional problems for him to work so that I'd be able to spot errors, and then Ayla went happily along his way to do his homework, with a plan for another session the following day, and a test on Thursday. I didn't tell him, but I was already planning a quiz for the next day, assuming Ms. Bell approved my study approach.

I'd no sooner settled in to work on my Powers Theory self-study than another knock sounded at the door. Sighing, I answered, "Come in."

The door opened a crack and Billie peeked in. "Are you busy?" she asked meekly.

I put my book down. "Not really. What's up?"

"I wondered if you'd have time to help with my math?" she asked.

"This must be tutoring night," I chuckled. "I just finished helping Ayla with his pre-calc study plan."

"Yeah, he told me," Billie said, having come inside the room. It was a little disconcerting talking with her, because when she wasn't thinking about it, she tended to float a few inches above the floor, as if gravity was ignoring her. "He said you were probably free."

"Pull up a chair," I replied, gesturing to Evvie's vacant seat.

As she sat down, I thought about her, and some of the hints that Toni, Ayla, and Nikki had given me about Billie. Apparently, Whateley and some of the staff had been quite unkind to her, attempting to move her to Hawthorne for infractions that someone else had started, categorizing her as a very dangerous trouble-maker, and even altering some records to keep her out of the library. Worse, someone had sabotaged a team simulation to hurt Team Kimba, and Billie had taken a devastating psychological blow during that ill-fated sim. Based on my interactions with her, I got the impression that she was reserved and hurt inside but tried really hard not to show it. In a way, I felt a strange kinship with her.

We'd no sooner started reviewing than Evvie came back from the library, with Naomi and Laurie. One glance told me that Billie felt she was intruding on Evvie and me, and Evvie was about to volunteer to go somewhere else, which made _me_ feel like I was imposing on her.

"Are things quieter in your room?" I asked Billie. "I can help you there if your roommate is okay with it."

"Sure," she said, looking relieved that I wasn't just going to toss her out as an inconvenience. She gathered up her books and we marched to her room.

It was strange to see a book floating in the air next to Jinn, the wanagi, studying independently of Jade, who was on her bed in a Hello, Kitty nightshirt, head down in another book. The two girls, Jade and Jinn, were a mystery to me _and_ to Wakan Tanka, so I figured it was easier to just deal with the situation by ignoring it.

Jade looked up when we entered, and she beamed. "Hi, Kayda," she greeted me. "Did you come to talk about Wondercute? Did you bring Tatanka?" She was positively giddy with excitement and anticipation.

"Whoa, Jade," Billie halted the rapidly-spewing questions from her roommate. "She's here to help me with math, okay? No talk about Wondercute."

Jade looked at me, disappointed. "Okay, oneesan," she replied to Billie. After sulking a bit, she perked up. "Did you bring Tatanka?"

"You have homework to do," Billie reminded Jade.

"I'm doing our homework, so we can spend time with Tatanka while I study," Jinn replied almost smugly. That confused me - how could Jade benefit if Jinn was doing the homework? And what was with the mixed pronouns?

"These two are ... very strange," I said to Wakan Tanka, sitting by the fire.

"Jinn, the wanagi, is very strongly connected to Jade. I have never seen two spirits connected this way."

"Is that why Jinn said that she was doing their homework?"

"I don't know," Wakan Tanka answered. "It is possible that what one learns, the other knows as well."

I nodded slowly, thinking about this. If it was true, it was a secret that they probably didn't want to share. "I'm not sure I trust them."

"You should be more wary around the other girl, the one with the blue hair," Wakan Tanka observed.

"Billie? Why?"

"Her spirit ... seems familiar. It feels like something very ancient and very powerful," she said, her eyes closed in concentration as she thought. She opened her eyes, and I could see ... fear? "I don't know how to deal with her."

"Should I be cautious?" I asked. "I see someone who pretends to be brave, but is really shy and hurt."

"Because you know how that felt, right?" Wakan Tanka asked with a smile. "If what you suspect is true, then you cannot force your way into friendship with her. All you will be able to do is to be courteous and helpful. If she wishes your friendship, she will open up to you."

"She has her friends on Team Kimba," I observed. "But I can still help her with her math when she needs it."

"And in doing so, you will be like Pizpisa," Wakan Tanka beamed. "I will delight in telling that smelly old beast that you _are_ learning!"

"Kayda?" Jade was asking, staring at me.

"Uh, sometimes my spirit wants to talk to me," I answered, telling only a half-truth. _I_ had wanted that conversation, to ask her about the two girls.

"Can you manifest him?" Jade asked, getting back her excited pre-teen attitude.

In response, I had Tatanka manifest St. Bernard size. The bison noted Jade, and as he turned around and spotted Billie, he bellowed and backed away so quickly that it startled me, staring at Billie the whole time. He'd have backed out into the hall if the door hadn't been closed.

"Tatanka," I snapped at him, "behave."

"Wihakayda," he replied in Lakota, "do you know _who_ that is?"

"Yes," I answered also in Lakota. "Billie Wilson, a student who I'm helping with math. Wakan Tanka wasn't as alarmed as you seem to be."

He looked at me, and then at Billie, before cautiously creeping up to her. He gazed up and down, and then sniffed, causing some embarrassment to Billie when his nose got near her crotch. "She smells like something bad from the past," he said gruffly, still speaking Lakota, "but I can't remember _what_."

"Does she smell like a demon?" I asked bluntly, challenging him. If he was _my_ spirit, he would do as _I_ said.

Tatanka frowned. "No."

"Then let _me_ be the one to worry about her, okay?"

Tatanka glared at me briefly before nodding. With one more suspicious glance at Billie, he walked to Jade, who started cooing about just how kyoooot he was.

"That'll keep her distracted for a while," Billie said.

"Good." I pulled Jade's chair up beside Billie's and started looking at math with her.

"What was all that talk between your buffalo and you about?"

I shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "He likes to be a little overprotective at times. Now, let's get to the math."

Laurie and Naomi had left by the time I got back to the room, leaving Evvie studying. She glanced up when I came in. "You look rather pleased with yourself," she observed.

"Yeah," I said, flopping on my bed. "But tired."

"Who knew that math tutoring could be such a workout?" Evvie chuckled.

* * * * * * * * * *

Whateley, Astral plane

The Whateley Gaming Club, as the Dream Team officially called themselves in a blatant case of misdirection, sat around a table in their headquarters. While others thought them to be avid gamers who spent much of their non-class time engaged in various games like GEO, in reality they were learning to protect Whateley and its students from creatures of the astral plane.

Valkyrie, an astral mage, came into the room, which raised barely a stir among those gathered. "Anything new and exciting?" she asked as she took a seat in a very plush seat. Since the club members were frequently on the astral plane, it was considered a necessity for them to leave their physical bodies in comfort so they didn't have aches and pains when they returned.

Anno Domini, AD, snorted. "Do you _really_ want some excitement?"

"Not really," Valkyrie chuckled. "But this is mostly boring. How are we supposed to learn anything when it's so utterly and completely dull?"

Weaver piped up. "There _is_ something unusual going on that you might be interested in. There's kind of a ... bubble ... here."

"What?" AD asked. "What do you mean, a bubble?"

"It's like a ... very tenuous subregion in the astral plane that seems to be almost like its own space. Or like it overlaps with the astral plane that we know." Weaver frowned. "I think I might have seen something very tenuous like it before, too, but I didn't investigate more closely."

The others slipped into the astral plane to see what WS had noted. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Weaver answered softly, as if sound might disrupt this bubble and release something horrific.

Something nagging in the back of Heyoka's mind thought that the bubble was familiar, something he'd seen before, but he couldn't put his finger on why. That creepy feeling of recognition sent a shiver down his spine.

"I've never seen anything like it," AD said.

"It'd be nice if Foob was here," Valkyrie observed. "He might know what it is."

"Should we try to see what's in it?" AD asked, but from his tone, it was evident to the others that he had already made up his mind.

"I think we ought to wait for Foob," Arte-fact opined.

AD glanced around at the others. "Well, here goes nothing." He glided toward the faintly-shimmering ethereal bubble, and after glancing over his shoulder at the others, he pressed a hand against the strange phenomenon.

Nothing happened, except that it was like his hand had hit a wall. Frowning, he pushed harder, with the same result.

"What is it?"

Valkyrie was occupied pulling her astral essence into a spell. Once completed, she released the spell against the bubble. There was a dazzling, aurora-like flash on the surface of the strange object. "That didn't work," she said after the effect dissipated. "I was trying a spell to read the thing."

AD frowned. He backed up, and then cast a spell, resulting in a blinding burst on the outside of the shell, but when that faded, there seemed to have been no effect on it.

"Can you see if this is tied to the physical realm?" Weaver asked.

AD and Valkyrie concentrated. "Yeah," AD answered, getting concerned. "It looks like ... it's in Poe."

Heyoka's eyes widened. "Poe?" He didn't know anyone, other than himself, who could navigate the astral plane.

"Yeah. It looks like you're going to have to try to track this down."

A shiver went down Heyoka's spine. "I ... I think I know who, and what this is," he said with dread certainty.

"What?"

"It's ... a shaman's dream-world," he said gravely. "That's why it seemed a bit familiar."

AD frowned. "Shouldn't my spell have gone into this 'dream world'?"

"Yes. Unless this is a very powerful shaman."

Weaver grimaced. "Heyoka, you're going to have to track down who this is so we can talk to him or her."

Heyoka gulped. If it was who he thought .... "I'd rather not," he said with a grimace.

"Why not?"

"I'd rather not say," Heyoka answered. "It involves my spirit."

AD frowned. "But you know who it is?"

Heyoka nodded. "It's the new girl, Pejuta."

Weaver winced. "The Native American girl that's been the focus of so much trouble?"

"Yeah."

"I'll try to talk to her," Valkyrie volunteered.

Fortuitously, Foob chose that moment to show up. "What are you guys doing?" he asked, sounding very concerned.

"I noticed something faint but unusual," Weaver explained, "so we were investigating."

"It's Pejuta's dream space," Foob stated immediately. "It's very heavily warded to protect her and people she cares about."

"From what?" AD asked, not liking the sound of Foob's explanation.

"From a very nasty Native American snake-demon that exists in either plane as it wants. You should probably let me talk to her, since I've been in her dream-space before."

The sighs of relief weren't audible, but the faces of the Dream Team were visibly relieved by Fubar's volunteering. If they couldn't affect the astral bubble, they weren't sure that they wanted to confront the spirit that had created it.

"If you can," Foob continued, "you should watch for astral entities trying to attack or penetrate the dream space. But if you see something, do _not_ engage it or try to stop it. Let me know immediately, and stay away from it."

AD gulped. "Is it _that_ nasty?"

"From evidence, it's a Class X entity." He noted the gulps and gasps of the rest of the team; they might have to deal with the worst astral entity that they'd ever encountered, and it was an object lesson in the dangers of their responsibility as guardians of Whateley's astral space.

* * * * * * * * * *

Western South Dakota

As he hid under a bridge to shield himself from the injurious rays of the sun, the snake demon pondered the knowledge he'd absorbed from the two women - the one stranger in the truck, and the one of the People in the odd, fixed structure. If he understood it right, the People had been weakened by diseases brought by an invading swarm of fair-skinned humans, beings like the one in the truck whose thoughts he'd eaten. The vast herds of bison were gone, slaughtered by the invading whites to control the People.

Now the People were mostly located on small tracts of land called 'reservations, where they no longer lived their nomadic lifestyle. The snake creature knew that his father would be curious about this, even though it made no sense. The spirit of the People that they remembered was wild, untamed, roaming free on the vast prairies. Had the invaders destroyed that spirit? And if so, had they forgotten about the gods and beings they worshipped?

What would the father-creature do if there were no warriors with whom to battle and cow, no People to worship and offer sacrifices? The world had changed radically from what he, and probably his father, remembered.

There was no doubt, however, about the snake creature's place; he was the son of Unhcegila, a servant of his father, and since he'd been given a task, there would be nothing that would stand in his way.

In all the memories of the woman of the People, there was nothing about the sacred sphere. His task had become more difficult; he had to find these 'reservations' and then find someone who would know.

As the day stretched into evening, the snake demon reached out with his senses, and he immediately felt something moving. It was large, even bigger than a Bison, and moving very rapidly, like the strange metal beast which had hit him earlier. That wound had been serious, but nothing he wasn't healing from; he decided to risk another such injury to find more knowledge to consume. If he was lucky, the human in this beast would be one of the People.

Ignoring the pain of the late-day sun, the snake crawled from under the bridge, clinging to it so he climbed directly onto the road.

In the car, Joseph Red Elk took his gaze from the road for a second, because the radio station he'd been listening to had faded, so he had to switch to another station. Satisfied with the country music blaring through the car's speakers, he returned his attention to the road.

A huge black snake curled on the road, a hideous half-demon face staring malevolently at him. Panicking, Joseph jammed on the brakes and swerved to go around the massive creature. The tires smoked as the brakes locked the wheels and rubber ground noisily against the asphalt, and the car skidded, caroming off the opposite bridge rail and back into the snake creature, where it slammed to a halt.

Joseph sat behind the now-deflated airbag, dazed by the impact and the shotgun noise of the airbag inflator. He faintly saw something moving, lurching awkwardly beside his car, and he tried to get his mind in order.

It was a futile task. Even as he struggled against the seat-belt, the snake demon pushed his mouth through a window. Joseph was too dazed to realize what was happening, so he didn't even scream.

After consuming the man, the snake crawled painfully back under the bridge. This second vehicular impact had hurt him worse than the first, and he knew it would take time to heal. Worse, this man had no more knowledge of the sacred sphere than the woman. The one thing that did help was that he was driving to the Standing Rock Indian Reservation, and the snake demon now had the knowledge to find this land, where he would find more People.

Two victims had given him no information about the sacred sphere. Perhaps it was time to find a shaman, who _should_ know much more about sacred artifacts. Then he'd find out where the object of his search lay, and he could claim it for his father.

* * * * * * * * * *

End of Chapter 5

Kayda 2 - Trials of a Warrior, Chapter 6 - Hoka

Author:

Elrod

Audience Rating:

General Audience (pg)

Publication:

17,500 < Novella < 40,000 words

Genre:

Transgender

Character Age:

Teenage or High School

TG Universes & Series:

Whateley Academy by Maggie Finson, et al

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

A Whateley Academy Adventure

Kayda 2: Trials of a Warrior

Chapter 6 - Hoka

by ElrodW

Tuesday, March 27, 2007 - morning
Poe Cottage

I must have looked as bad as I felt; as soon as I staggered into the bathroom, it seemed like all the girls stopped to gawk, open-mouthed, at me.

"What happened to _you_?" Vox asked, voicing the question that I'm sure was on everyone's minds.

"I didn't sleep worth a crap last night," I said, shaking my head slowly because, among other things, I had a headache.

"No dream-nookie last night?" Vamp asked with a leering grin.

"Fuck you!" I snapped right back, and as soon as I said the words, I regretted being snippy. Then again, I regretted having to shower in a room with Vamp and Ayla, both of whom made me nervous.

"Um," Vamp leered, as if considering, "Nah, you're not my type." Ayla glared at Vamp, his eyes shooting daggers at the smartass. That wasn't surprising; it was well known that Ayla and Vamp didn't get along at all. I couldn't help but wonder why they were rooming together.

Shaking my head angrily, I joined a line for the showers.

Toni was in line ahead of me. "Really, what happened?" she asked, curious. "You really don't look good."

"Something was interfering with my dream-world," I answered with a sigh.

"So you _didn't_ get any dream-snuggling with your GF, then."

I stared at her a second before I shook my head. "No," I admitted softly

"Girl gotta get some," she said softly, but loudly enough that Verdant heard and gave me a knowing wink, and Toni's pleasant smile became a leering grin. "Nothin' like a little _cuddling_ to keep a girl in a good mood!"

My slightly reddened cheeks must have turned crimson, because I caught a few girls glancing at me and smiling. Damn, Toni had me embarrassed - again.

"Not that I didn't try," I countered, trying to push my embarrassment aside - unsuccessfully. "Let me put it this way. How would you manage to 'cuddle' if someone was banging on the door, pounding the floor above you, smashing into the walls periodically, and every so often banging on your window?"

"Damn, girl, you're supposed to be sleepin' for your dream walkin'," Toni said, shaking her head.

"Yeah, I _was_ asleep, but something was really hitting my dream-space hard last night, like ...." I broke off, realizing what it had felt like. It was the same as the time Aunghadhail had come into my dream space. I frowned, and looked around to see if Nikki was in the restroom. If I mentioned Aung's intrusion, the reminder of her ancient Sidhe spirit might Nikki off into another tear-fest. She'd already had enough of those over the weekend.

Nikki had just come in, bleary-eyed and still waking, carrying a towel and her toiletries kit. She looked like I felt - exhausted, but then again, everyone knew, from her near-constant griping, that she wasn't a morning person. On top of that, since she lost Aung, she seemed a lot less energetic and happy. She looked around, rubbing sleep from her eyes, and yawned, and then she noticed me staring at her. "What?" she asked plaintively.

"Someone was messing with my dream-walking last night," I said, angrily, even though I didn't mean to sound that way. I was tired, and my emotions were pretty raw.

"Was it ... Aung?" she asked hopefully, her eyes begging me to say yes. We all knew that she was really messed up from losing Aung, and despite counseling, often seemed to be in denial.

I shook my head 'no'. "I don't think so. It didn't feel like her. I'm sorry," I added, knowing that Nikki had gotten her hopes up that I had encountered her lost spirit.

"Trouble?" Billie stepped over beside me, aware that others were paying undue attention to us. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You look like death warmed over."

"I didn't sleep well last night. Someone, or something, was disturbing my dream space," I complained.

Nikki shook her head, her unkempt red hair swirling about her in a disheveled mess. "Are you sure it wasn't Aunghadhail?" she asked, pleading with her eyes for me to say that it was. Damn, but she was taking the loss of Aung hard, even with all the time she was spending with Dr. Bellows, and I couldn't say that I blamed her. Sometime, though, she was going to have to get out of denial and face the fact that Aung was permanently gone. She had her team-mates to help her, but she was still having difficulties, even with daily counseling.

Ayla asked, "Was it that snake-demon, perhaps?"

Toni's eyes narrowed. "Tell him to bring it on. We'll kick some snake-booty. We'll teach that bitch not to mess in _our_ hood!"

I shook my head. "You guys don't want to mess with him," I cautioned. "He's sort of Class X - real bad news. Just his appearance drives people insane."

"Must be an _ugly_ motha', then." Toni replied. "No wonder snakey-boy is such an ass!"

"It wasn't old snake-face," I replied. "I've felt his presence a few times, and this didn't feel anything like him at all."

"Girlfriend, you better find out what it was and fix it pronto. If one night without sleep leaves you like this, I'd hate to think what a week would do!" Toni said, shaking her head.

"Yeah. I know."

"Hey, why don't you have Tonka Trucka kick some psychic ass to whoever is doing that, like he did to the Don and Tansy?" Toni suggested.

"Hmm. That's a good idea."

"Of _course_ it's a good idea!" Toni giggled in a serious faux British accent. I giggled, because I immediately caught the reference, but many didn't, and they were giving her strange looks.

Several of us walked over to the caf for breakfast; as tired as I was, I wasn't really paying attention to the conversation as we walked, nor was I alert at the table with my usual gang. If the chefs had prepared eggs benedict or crepes or souffles for breakfast, I don't think I would have noticed.

As we were leaving the caf, Rosalyn sidled up beside me. "I've got escort duty this morning, girls," she said to Naomi and Evvie, pausing to wink at me as if we has some secret between us.

"Okay," Evvie said, looking warily at me. "I guess we'll see you for lunch?"

"Yeah. Assuming I survive martial arts," I groused.

"You seem awfully stressed," Rosalyn commented as Evvie and Naomi went their separate directions. "Need a shoulder rub?"

I turned, stunned by how forward she seemed to be. "What?"

Rosalyn smiled coyly. "If you're that stressed, a shoulder massage might help you relax. And then you can give _me_ a massage and help _me_ relax!" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"You're not giving up, are you?"

"Nope."

"Debra told me that you always found yourself a 'special project' every term," I grumbled. "I really don't want to be yours this term."

"You know how to get me to ... slow down."

"I noticed you didn't say 'stop' this time."

Rosalyn grinned. "Why stop when I'm making progress?"

"You're _not_ making progress, and I think all you want is to see me naked."

"Is it my fault that we're on different floors, so I don't get to take in your magnificent ... scenery ... every day in the shower like those lucky girls on the second floor do?"

"I had a bad night's sleep last night, and I'm not in the mood for this."

"Oh? Something wrong?" For the first time of the morning, Rosalyn sounded concerned.

"I don't know. Something was messing with my dreams." I sighed, glancing around and noting a guy from my floor in Poe. "I wish ...." I broke off, mid-sentence because Wakan Tanka yanked me into dream space.

"You must speak to that one."

"Who? He's a kid from my floor with the code-named Heyoka?" I replied.

Wakan Tanka frowned at me. "His spirit says that he is a true Heyoka. You must find out why he is here."

"Urk ...." Rosalyn stammered when she saw the change in my posture and demeanor as Ptesanwi manifested in me. "Um, what's ... going on?"

"We must speak with Heyoka," we said imperiously. We were Ptesanwi, and we expected to be listened to.

"Uh, okay," Rosalyn said a bit nervously. "Why ... why are you talking with a royal 'we'," she asked, her voice uneasy, "and why are you glowing a little bit?"

"We are Ptesanwi. We must speak with Heyoka," we commanded.

Rosalyn, bless her heart in all her confusion about what had happened to me, took us toward Heyoka. Jamie looked like he had partial feathers on him, like he was trying to manifest a bird, and as soon as he saw us, he frowned deeply.

"Heyoka," we said in a commanding tone, "we will speak with you."

"I don't need to speak with you," he replied. There was something disquieting about his demeanor.

"Why are you here? Why are you not teaching the People, as you are supposed to?"

Heyoka frowned. "I answer to Ptesanwi," he answered.

"You _are_ the contrary one, the Heyoka, the sacred clown. I understand your words in ways some of the People cannot. You say no, when you mean yes. You say you are cold, when you are hot. You say you answer to Ptesanwi when you have no intention of answering to us. Very well, if you will not answer to Ptesanwi, will you answer to Wakan Tanka, since we speak for her? Do you answer to her?" I asked.

"I ... I will not answer to Wakan Tanka," he said after staring at us uneasily for a few seconds.

"Why are you here?" we repeated. "Your role is to teach the People."

"I can teach that which I do not know," Heyoka answered sternly.

"You _are_ truly Heyoka," we replied. "You speak contrarily, as you should to get the People to question themselves. But you must share it with the People, so they will learn. It is your task."

"I don't need to learn to control my powers," Heyoka countered. "It will help the People if I teach without knowing."

"Then learn, Heyoka, and return to the People to teach them. They are in need of us."

"The People don't need us right now," Heyoka answered. "We won't return to them."

"Uh, do you understand this?" Rosalyn asked hesitantly.

We turned to the confused older girl. "Heyoka speaks contrary to his meaning. It is a way to make the people question their knowledge, morals, rituals, and traditions."

"So ... when he said the People don't need him, and he won't return to them ...."

We smiled at Rosalyn. "He acknowledges that the People need him, and that he _will_ return to them when he is finished learning here."

"Oh."

"Heyoka," we continued, "you have the knowledge to dream-walk, yes?"

"I don't know how to dream-walk."

"Did you interfere with our dream-walk last night?

Heyoka frowned, and we could tell that he had an internal struggle over whether he should answer us. "We didn't notice anything unusual in the astral plane last night. We didn't try to investigate the space that is your dream-world."

"You will leave our dream-space alone!" we fairly screamed at him angrily. "You have no right to interfere in another's dream-space without permission, especially that of the Ptesanwi!'

"We can tell you everything about the incident that didn't occur," he answered. "Here, in public, and right now."

Despite his contrary language, we, as Ptesanwi, were used to dealing with Heyoka. "You will meet us later, so we may discuss this in private."

"No."

"Very well. Since you live just down the hall in Poe, come by my room to talk." We turned sharply away from Heyoka, resuming our walk toward our class. Shortly after we started walking, I felt Ptesanwi leave the real world, so I was Kayda once again.

"That was ... weird," Rosalyn said uncertainly as we walked. "Is that ... your spirit that manifests for you?"

"It is one of them, the Ptesanwi, the White Buffalo Calf Woman."

"And Heyoka?"

I sighed. "Is the Sacred Clown of my People."

"And you understand his funny way of talking?" Rosalyn asked. I simply nodded. "So, if that's the way it works, then when you say 'no' about going to the hot-tub party, you really mean ...."

"Heyoka speaks contrariwise. I speak normally," I cut her off with a wry grin. "Nice try, though."

"Dang. Well, you can't blame me for trying."

"I've learned to expect no less from you," I said, half-sighing, half-smiling at my would-be seductress. Then I frowned. "I really need you to keep quiet about this whole thing, especially my spirit."

Rosalyn nodded. "I might have to ask a favor for keeping my mouth shut, though," she said with a leering grin. When she saw the look of horror on my face, she chuckled. "Got you!" she teased. "I promise I'll keep quiet. As long as you _think_ about coming to the party."

"Okay," I answered. "I'll _think_ about it. But no promises that I'll come."

"Fair enough." From the very interested look she was giving me, I had the dread feeling that she was winning our little contest of wills. I was also wondering why, at times, it seemed fun to be engaged in the flirtatious verbal sparring with her.

* - * - * - * - *

Schuster Hall, Headmistress' Office
Elizabeth Carson

Mrs. Carson heard the buzz on her phone, and was tempted to ignore it in favor of the pile of paperwork before her on her desk. It wasn't that she didn't trust Elaine Claire, Ms. Hartford, or Mrs. Shugendo when they sent her papers for her signature; rather, she pushed herself to stay as informed about _her_ school as she could, and she believed that if her underlings sent her documents to sign, those papers were important enough for her to read and understand _before_ she signed them. When the intercom function buzzed again, she carefully set the paper she was reading back on the 'unread' pile and pressed a button. "Yes, Elaine?"

"Mrs. Carson, I finally got ahold of Mr. Two Knives. He's on line two," Ms. Claire reported promptly.

"Thanks, Elaine." Mrs. Carson punched a button on her phone. "Hello," she said, having switched on her speaker-phone so she could lean back and stretch a bit. Forty-five minutes being hunched over a stack of papers really made her shoulders stiff, despite being an exemplar. "Mr. Two Knives?"

The voice chuckled, a deep but friendly sound. "Please, call me Billy. I presume I'm speaking to the esteemed Mrs. Carson?"

It was Liz's turn to laugh. "I prefer to not go on reputation, but let people decide for themselves whether I live up to the advance billing."

Billy Two Knives chuckled again. "What can I do for you, dear lady?"

"Straight to the point. I'm not sure if that's appropriate for this discussion."

"Oh? You were hoping to get a feeling for me from some idle conversation?"

Liz Carson frowned. "Yes, but since you want to get straight into the topic of our phone call, a trustee of our school got a recommendation from your uncle, your tribe's shaman, that you might be qualified to tutor one of our students."

"My ... uncle? Jimmy Red Lake?" This time, Billy Two Knives sounded surprised. "What kind of tutoring are you thinking of? I'm not a teacher."

"I know. You barely passed your high school classes," Liz said, reading from her computer monitor. Silently, she mouthed, 'bless you, Elaine,' acknowledging the admin aide's diligence in getting information about Mr. Two Knives sent to her computer.

"You have me at a disadvantage."

"Do I? You seem to have checked on my reputation, so you must have been expecting someone to call you."

Mr. Two Knives laughed aloud. "Is it not wise to know who is asking about you?"

"Touche," Liz acknowledged. "I am Headmistress of Whateley Academy, a private boarding high school, and we frequently find ourselves in need of tutors with special ... skills."

"Which means you have some problem students," Mr. Two Knives commented.

"You could say that."

"What kind of skills would _I_ be able to provide?"

"The information and recommendation we received says that among other things, you're an expert horseman."

"I ride, but not conventional dressage or formal equestrian styles, if that's what you're asking."

"Yes, but I'm not looking for a conventional horsemanship instructor," Liz replied.

"What _are_ you looking for?" There was puzzlement in Mr. Two Knives' voice.

"Tell me, what are your qualifications with traditional Native American weapons and fighting styles?" Liz prompted.

"Oh, you're looking for someone who can teach Native horse combat skills? Isn't that a little unusual for a high school?"

"Your file shows that you're considered one of the best Native fighting instructors in the country."

"I teach a little bit of traditional skills."

"What do you teach?" Liz asked bluntly.

"I teach Native riding, which means bareback and no bridle. Riding this way is the basis for learning horse bow and lance. I also teach standing bow, tomahawk, war club, knife, and unarmed combat."

"So would you call yourself a warrior?" Liz asked.

Mr. Two Knives chuckled, relaxed after many confusing questions. "Some would call me that. What kind of classes are you teaching?"

"You _could_ teach my students the skills you know, right?"

"Yes, but ... I'm not sure I understand. How many students would be in my class?"

"One."

"One?!? You're talking about me teaching _one_ student?" Mr. Two Knives was astounded.

"One right now. Our trustee is pretty sure that more students in his Native American cultural group will be interested in learning the skills you teach _if_ you come here, but the primary student is a girl who needs training. Her ... spirit ... demands it."

"One student?" Mr. Two Knives repeated in disbelief.

"She's a very special student.

"She must be," Mr. Two Knives said, still surprised.

"What's your background?" Liz prompted to continue the discussion.

"I thought you read a file on me," Mr. Two Knives said.

"I do, but I want to make sure what I'm reading doesn't have any errors."

"Fair enough," Mr. Two Knives agreed. "I'm forty, single, and I'm from the Wahpekute Band. When I was younger, I belonged to the Ino'ka, the Badger Society and the Kangi'yuha, the Crow owners society. I've been a leader in both. Now I'm one of the few members of Wi'ciska, the White Marked Society, which is reserved for the best of the best veteran warriors."

"That looks like what I've read. Do you know any of the martial arts?"

"Like Krav Maga?" Mr. Two Knives chuckled. "I'm a third-level expert in that technique. I find it adapts well to traditional combat situations and weapons. It's so much more useful than the LINE system I learned in the Corps."

"You were a Marine?"

"Yes, ma'am. I hold dual Canadian and American citizenship."

Carson chuckled. "You'll get along well with Gunny Bardue, then. Have you ever worked with mutants?"

"Yes," Mr. Two Knives answered, again sounding puzzled. "We had several in the Corps."

She paused a moment, to collect her thoughts. "My student is in basic martial arts, and due to some ... threats ... is taking intense classes with the Aikido 2 class as well."

One could almost hear the frown on Mr. Two Knives' face. "Threats? Of what nature?"

"How versed are you in lore and legends of the Sioux peoples?"

"Lore? Pretty well, I guess. I grew up on the Birdtail Sioux First Nation in Manitoba. My uncle is a shaman, so he made sure I know all the stories of my people."

"How about shaman magic and healing?"

"I'm not a shaman like my uncle, but I know of shaman traditions and magic. You're getting me quite intrigued by this web and puzzle of hints you provide. Who is this girl? Is she a shaman?"

Carson chuckled again. "You could say that." She glanced at a green indicator on her phone, indicating that _her_ end of the phone line was secure. "I trust you're on a secure phone."

"Yes, I am," Mr. Two Knives answered, sounding puzzled. "Why?"

"The girl is an avatar, and her spirit is Ptesanwi." There was dead silence on the line for several seconds. "Mr. Two Knives?"

"I'm sorry, there must have been interference on the line, or you're pulling my leg. You couldn't have said Ptesanwi."

"I _did_ say Ptesanwi," Carson said in a serious tone. "The girl has the spirit of Ptesanwi."

"You're serious."

"Yes, I'm very serious. I don't joke about my students. Because of that, she's attracted some ... unwanted attention, and she said that Wakan Tanka has told her that she must learn traditional fighting methods."

"Wakan Tanka ... talks to her?"

"Yes, we believe so."

"When can I start?"

Liz was taken aback. "Wait a minute. Don't we need to introduce you and see if the girl will accept you as a tutor? And there are little matters of pay and schedule and such."

"When can I meet her?" Mr. Two Knives sounded quite insistent.

"Aren't you even interested in negotiating a salary?" Liz wanted to be cautious, because while he was eager to meet Kayda, she might not like or get along with him.

"You expect me to be paid to teach Ptesanwi? Would you take a salary to teach _your_ messiah?" He took a breath. "I'd like to meet her as soon as possible.

Liz cringed at his statement. From the moment she'd learned of Kayda's spirit, she'd been afraid that the girl was going to attract devotees and disciple-wannabes. The reaction of Mr. Two Knives didn't do anything to assuage that fear. "If you can come here, we'll arrange a meeting to see if she finds you acceptable."

"Great. I'll be there as soon as I can." The line clicked dead, leaving Liz Carson with an uneasy feeling about Mr. Two Knives as a private tutor for Kayda.

* - * - * - * - *

Laird Hall, 4th Period
Kayda

"I hate doing martial arts twice a day," I grumbled as I went through a form with Anna Parsons. "How can you be so cheerful about it?"

Anna laughed; she was a sweet, carefree girl - mostly. The exception was her worry about her boyfriend, one of the lab-coat crew named Hazmat. She seemed perpetually terrified of not being good enough, or upsetting him and making him not like her - normal teenage girl worries. I hadn't yet met him, although I suspected that I would eventually. "It's fun!" she replied happily.

"Yeah, maybe for you, because you're good at it. I suck," I grumbled.

"When I first started," my student instructor explained, "I wasn't very good, either. It takes practice."

"Yeah, I know. I also know that I can't do half of the moves you're doing. They're ... weird. Not like Sensei Tolman and the others are teaching me."

Anna winced, as if embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she apologized profusely. "My ... mutation has given me some ... characteristics of my avatar spirit ...."

"Yeah, I know what _that's_ like!" I griped.

"Well, it's ... it's like I move better when I move like my spirit, not the same way other people move," she continued. "And that makes my technique different." She stopped moving. "Sensei said we're supposed to spar once before my turn teaching is up," she said, noting that Kismet had come over to take her turn instructing - which also meant that she was refereeing Anna's and my sparring match.

I won't bother with details; it was ugly. I got my ass kicked six ways from Sunday. Anna was too fast, and her moves were unconventional enough that it threw off everything I thought I'd learned. After the third point - all won by Anna, she helped me to my feet, self-conscious of the way I winced in pain. "Did I hurt you?" she was almost in tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you so badly, because I wasn't trying to hurt you, but we were sparring, and ...."

I held up my hand to stop her. "It's okay. Remember, Ito Sensei and Tolman Sensei keep telling us that injuries are common in this class." I smiled. "And Tolman Sensei keeps reminding me that I'll only get better by sparring people better than I am."

Relief flooded her expression. "Oh, I'm glad you're not mad at me, because I wouldn't like it if you were mad at me because you got hurt sparring, and I wasn't trying to hurt you. I wasn't being mean because I hate you or anything, but I was doing what Tolman Sensei told me, which was to make you fight hard, and ..."

"It's okay, Anna," I interjected quickly. "You were doing what the senseis told you, and you were doing it correctly." Gak! I was defending the sadistic teaching methods of Ito? What was the world coming to? Then again, Anna was a really sweet girl - the kind I would have loved to have had as a girlfriend back in the days when I was a boy. Now, if she was my friend, I'd be happy, because she was so cheerful and friendly. It was hard not to like her. Unlike Britomart, who was a little standoffish and cool toward me. Ayla had told me that Britomart was really nice, but she was a little shy, and that she'd warm up to me eventually - so long as I didn't get bitchy or nasty with her.

I did six rounds of instruction and sparring, and I was tired and very sore when class ended. Based on the smirk on Ito's face, he'd done that to me on purpose to push me. I was the first one done showering, and while I was waiting outside the locker room for my 'escort', Anna and a few other girls came out.

"Didn't you say you had French next period?" Anna asked.

"Can't go yet. My escort isn't here," I answered.

"Escort?" Her eyes widened as she came to the wrong conclusion. "Oh, your boyfriend."

I shuddered with revulsion. "No," I answered quickly. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Then what?" Anna asked. "Or are you ...?"

I figured I should head off this conversation. "You know how Ito said I needed to jump-start my martial arts? It's because I've been attacked several times since I manifested. Chief Delarose and Mrs. Carson said I _have_ to have someone escort me on campus, to try to discourage whoever is trying to kill me - at least until I'm good enough in martial arts to defend myself."

Anna's eyes popped open. "Someone still wants to hurt you?"

"There's a very powerful Lakota demon spirit that wants me dead," I said with a resigned air.

"Wow!"

I glanced around, not seeing anyone. "Can you walk with me to my French class? I don't see anyone coming for me, and I don't want to be late."

"Sure." We started toward the classroom building. "When you said you didn't have a boyfriend, you looked kind of upset. I'm sorry if I said something I shouldn't have," Anna apologized as we walked. "I mean, you just seem like the kind of girl that would have a lot of boys interested in you, because you're so pretty, and everyone says you're really smart and ...."

"It's okay. You don't know."

"Know what?" she asked before she realized that she might be treading in a place she shouldn't. "Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked, but I didn't think that maybe you don't want to talk about whatever ...."

"It's okay," I assured her, patting her arm. "After I manifested," I explained, deciding to give her the 'short', less shocking version, "the guys in my home town tried to kill me." Her eyes widened. "Twice. And ...." I fought the surge of panic that threatened to paralyze me as memories tried to overwhelm me - again. "And I ... have a hard time trusting guys anymore after that."

"Wow!"

"I've got ... post-traumatic stress disorder," I explained. "I ... have a very hard time ... even thinking about guys." A shudder made me tremble at the horrid memories - including the ones I hadn't told Anna about. "I grew up like everyone in my home town, believing that you don't ever hit girls, and then they tried to kill me." The threatening PTSD episode faded away, albeit slowly. It was still there, a rocky shoal of emotions deceptively hidden beneath a seemingly calm sea, waiting to rip my emotional vessel apart if I made any missteps. I was past loathing the monster within me; I hated it, but I didn't know how to rid myself of the thing.

"Wow!" she said again.

I decided to change the subject - quickly. "You're an avatar, too?"

Anna squirmed uncomfortably. "I ... I've got a ... pretty lame spirit." She looked at me. "Someone said you have a buffalo spirit. That'd be so cool, better than what I've got."

"Yeah, my spirit is the sacred white buffalo of the Lakota people," I answered. I could see that Anna looked impressed - and a little envious. "Thanks for walking with me. Otherwise, I'd get in trouble with security - again," I said to break the awkward silence. "I guess I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said with a grin. "The way Tolman Sensei set it up, I'll be seeing you every day."

"You mean, you'll be kicking my butt sparring every day," I chuckled.

"Oh, don't worry about that," she replied cheerfully, "you're learning pretty quickly. You'll be beating me soon."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "You're so damned good, and you've got moves that I'll _never_ be able to do! I'll never be that good."

"That's what I thought last fall," Anna answered. "I didn't even know how much I was learning until I started winning some of my sparring matches, and I'm in class with all the advanced students, who I _never_ thought I'd be good enough to spar with, so I'm sure you'll get better at martial arts quickly." It was so damned hard to stay frustrated around her because she was so positive.

French class was the usual exercise in frustration, but I was starting to feel like I was catching up - maybe. Despite that, the instructor thought that I'd do well with some tutoring, because I wasn't nearly as good at languages as I was with math. I was a little envious of Hippolyta from our cottage, whose mutation seemed to have made her a wiz with languages; I'd heard that she was fluent in more than twelve languages. I could have used a little of that power. As I considered that, I got a particularly mischievous thought that maybe, if I ever met her, I could speak Lakota, and watch her try to figure out the language, because it was highly unlikely that she'd ever encountered it. Then again, she was known to have a short temper, and she was a brick, so if she wasn't amused by the joke, I could be in serious trouble. And with my luck, the joke would fall flat because she'd figure out the language in a couple of minutes.

After French, I met Ayla in an unoccupied classroom in Schuster to work on pre-calc. I was pleased that he'd read ahead - as everyone told me he would - and had worked some of the problems, but there were a few concept that didn't quite fit together for him, so we went over them, worked several sample problems, got him a homework assignment, and then I sprang a quiz on him. I could tell he was surprised, and I kind of giggled at his reaction, as if I was a little less than fair at springing a quiz so quickly. He needn't have worried; he completed the quiz easily and quickly, and was mostly accurate; he seemed quite miffed to have only gotten 9 of the 10 points. He didn't complain, nor did he try to convince me that his answer was correct, which was what I would have expected from a teenage high school kid; instead, he asked what he'd done wrong, and then rather insistently asked for a couple of practice problems that he worked in my presence to ensure that he knew the concept and had corrected his errors. If I had any doubts about Ayla as a student, that pretty much erased them.

If I'd have let him, Ayla would have kept me in that classroom for longer, but I had to get to my electronics class, and Ayla had to go to his job as a teaching assistant for accounting, so Ayla escorted me to the electronics lab. On the way, I stopped by Ms. Bell's office and gave her Ayla's graded quiz. The smug look from Ms. Bell seemed to indicate that she thought she'd gotten a difficult student out of her hair and had given _me_ the problem. I took her attitude as a reason to help Ayla succeed so Ms. Bell would wipe that smug grin off her face.

Tatanka lay peacefully on the prairie next to me. "The waunspewichakhiya is pleased with your skill."

"How do you figure that?" I asked with a frown. "She looks like she's pleased to have foisted a problem student on me."

"Did she correct you?" Tatanka asked.

I had to pause a moment. "No," I answered, thinking. "She didn't."

"If she was unhappy, would she have corrected you?"

Damn that smug know-it-all bison. "Yeah," I was forced to agree.

"Did it occur to you that she was actually pleased that her experiment appears to be working, instead of being smug about ridding herself of two problems?"

"Are you going to start doing the 'I told you so' dance?" I asked sarcastically.

Tatanka smiled. "I don't dance, Wihakayda."

Electronics was okay; I was getting caught up, but the pace of instruction was unrelenting, so unless I worked very diligently, I might never catch up to the other students. After class, Delwin was nice enough to escort me from the electronics lab, although I had to admit that he looked a little nervous. It was widely known that a security guard had tried to kill me, and he may have had the uncomfortable thought that being with me made him a target as well. I had to respect him for walking with me despite that knowledge; either he thought of me as a good friend, or, and this was a much scarier thought, he was really crushing on me and was hoping to maybe impress me with his bravery.

Wakan Tanka looked a little cross. "Wihakayda, you are forgetting something," she said sternly, her arms folded across her chest. She seemed to think nothing of interrupting me.

I started at her tone. "What?" I asked. "What did I forget?" I was a little upset that she'd intruded without warning, at a time when I hadn't asked her.

"You must purify the spikes from Mishibijiw," Wakan Tanka told me bluntly, as if chiding a young child.

"I haven't forgotten," I retorted. "It takes all my essence, and I was going to do it later this evening, because I might need some essence this afternoon.

"It will take time for them to attune to you after you have purified them. You must go purify another spike _now_."

I sighed heavily. "Okay."

"I need to go by Kirby, if you don't mind," I blurted when I realized that he was staring at me. I'd spaced out again in the dream world, although it couldn't have been for more than a few seconds. I saw the look on his face. "Sometimes, my spirit pulls me into the dream world to tell me something important," I explained, "and it seems like I zone out when that happens."

"Oh," he said; I think he was relieved that it wasn't something more serious, like I'd been poisoned or was under some kind of telepathic or psi attack, or was having another PTSD episode.

"She's sometimes very insistent," I added with a bit of a smile, trying to put him at ease. "She yanks me into dream space without warning when that happens."

"Dream space? Is that like an Indian thing?"

I smiled, chuckling softly. "We prefer Native American, and yes, dream space is part of what shamans help people connect to. We call it dream walking."

Delwin's eyes bugged out. "Wait," he stammered, "so are you telling me that you're a shaman or something?" He seemed a little surprised, and even overwhelmed.

"Or something."

"Like Mr. Lodgeman? I heard a couple of students talking like he's a shaman, too."

"He's got a very important shaman spirit. To people of his tribe, he has _the_ shaman spirit."

"Are you from his tribe, too?" Delwin seemed fascinated by the lore I was telling him. Or he was pretending to be interested in the hope he'd impress me.

"No. He's Iroquois. I'm Lakota."

"Oh." He thought for a moment. "So you have different traditions? And ... his spirit isn't your people's most important shaman?"

"It gets complicated when you talk about the different Nations and their spirits and lore," I answered, not sure how else to put it. I certainly didn't want to tell him that I thought Wakan Tanka really outranked Mr. Lodgeman's spirit. We came to the door of Kirby Hall. "This is my stop. I think this is going to take a while, so it wouldn't be fair of me to have you wait."

"Okay," he said, sounding a little disappointed.

"Thanks for walking with me." I smiled, and then walked into Kirby, thinking. Delwin was nice, but in a friends sort of way. There was no way that I could bring myself to kiss him, or anything else for that matter, but he was nice to hang out with. Like Adrian and Vasiliy, who were interested in other girls, and as a result, weren't acting like total jerks around me. I supposed that if I'd have been born a girl, and not been raped, someone like Delwin would be fun to go out with. Those 'ifs', however, couldn't be ignored, and the thought of even kissing a boy made my stomach churn uncomfortably.

I made my way through a magically hidden doorway, which, as the story went, was installed to hide the Mystic Arts complex from the offices of the Psychic Arts department, with whom they had a rivalry of sorts. Supposedly, if one couldn't find the portal, one didn't belong in the Mystic Arts complex, so all the beginning and introductory classes were in the 'normal' part of the building. With the power of Wakan Tanka through Ptesanwi's spirit, I had no problem finding the doorway.

Ms. Grimes' door was open, and she was sitting at her desk, apparently grading papers, so I knocked on the door frame. "Oh, Kayda," she said when she looked up and recognized me. "Come in."

I slipped through the doorway. "Um, I came by to purify another of my copper spikes," I explained quickly, not wanting to waste any of her time. "If it won't be too much trouble."

"Oh, of course," she said, setting down the red pen she'd been using to 'bleed' on the classwork. "If you don't mind," she continued, standing, "I'd like to watch you cast that spell."

"I don't mind at all," I replied, trying to sound cheerful. I really didn't want spectators, but she _was_ an instructor, and the spikes were under the watchful eye of the Mystic Arts department. "Wakan Tanka also told me that, to be most effective, I'll need to keep the spikes with me so they attune to me."

"Circe thinks that you should wait until all the spikes are purified, just to be certain we don't have an accident."

"Okay," I replied unhappily. Wakan Tanka wanted me to start tuning the copper artifacts to my magic as soon as possible, but Circe was the department head, and I had to respect the wishes of my teachers.

She led me into a warded storage room, and then she opened a large cabinet, on which I could sense even more mystical protection. I frowned when the cabinet revealed my spikes sitting, unprotected, in what appeared to be a plexiglass case. "Um," I started to say that I thought they were being careless, but I wasn't sure quite _how_ to say that without offending Ms. Grimes.

"Don't worry, Kayda," Ms. Grimes said with a smile, "they're well protected."

"Um, okay," I answered nervously, not really surprised that she'd guessed - or read - my concern about the spikes.

Under her watchful eye, I used a spell to check for taint, because I didn't want to waste my essence removing taint from those two I'd already purified. Satisfied that I wasn't about to clean one I'd already done, I reached into the box and picked up a spike, feeling a faint tingling on my hand when I reached into the box. I looked up at Ms. Grimes, surprised.

"A little extra mystic warding," she chuckled.

"Oh." I set the spike on the floor, then sat beside it, cross-legged. I was well-acquainted with the 'dirty' feeling of tainted objects, bodies, and things; it was like a subtle, foul taste that, now that I knew it, I couldn't ignore. With frequent consultations with Wakan Tanka, I went through the purifying ritual, and cast the spell. As the magic flowed from me, I felt a little dizzy and weak; I would have fallen had I been standing.

"Interesting," Ms. Grimes commented as I took a few deep breaths to recover from the mystic exertion. "That was a very unique spell you used. Where did you learn it?"

"Wakan Tanka taught me," I replied. "She can't do it directly, but she's teaching me the spells. But it's a little confusing to me, because Lakota shaman magic doesn't neatly fit into the spheres or areas of magic you're teaching."

"And you used a lot of essence for the spell," she noted. "Hmm. I wonder ... if Fey could ...."

"No!" I snapped, surprising even myself with the intensity of my reply. Ms. Grimes looked at me, startled. "I don't know _what_ those will do to someone else," I added quickly. "The last person who touched them, besides me, is in ARC, down in the lower levels. I ... can't let anyone else take a chance with them."

Ms. Grimes nodded, accepting my reasoning. "I assure you that ...."

"Wakan Tanka tells me that she has no idea what would happen to anyone touching or trying magic on them," I added firmly. "I can't let anyone risk it."

"Not even to examine them?"

I shook my head. "Not until they're all purified, and someone in the department can confirm that they're not dangerous."

"Okay," Ms. Grimes reluctantly agreed. "Since your spirit is most familiar with them, it's best to listen to her. You better put that back with the other six until after ...."

"Seven," I corrected her, frowning. "Not counting the one I have in my hands."

Ms. Grimes shook her head. "We counted them when you brought them over. You only brought a total of seven."

"There ... were eight," I mouthed in disbelief, feeling the blood drain from my face. "That's how many I cut off. Wakan Tanka had me double-check."

"Dear, you only brought seven to the department." As the implications of her words hit, she paled as well. "There are only six in the box that I can see." She took my elbow and guided me to the cabinet. "Please check for yourself."

I did a quick count, and if anything, became paler. "One of them ... is missing."

"Is it possible you didn't put back one you purified?" Ms. Grimes asked hopefully. "Or that you only brought over seven?"

"I've only purified three now, counting this one. And I can see, from the auras around them, that there are only two purified spikes in the box." I looked at her, my voice quavering. "Someone has one of these things, and it's got a Class X taint on it."

* - * - * - * - *

Tuesday, March 27, 2007 - evening before dinner
Poe Cottage

The knock on the door casing interrupted my reading. "Yes?" I answered nervously. Since we'd discovered that one of the spikes was missing and had done a rather frantic search for it, including in my room, I'd been fretting about what that meant and where the spike could be - and how much trouble I was going to be in.

Mrs. Horton stood framed in the doorway. "Kayda, dear," she began, "Mrs. Carson wants you over in Schuster immediately."

"This is about Mishibijiw's spike, isn't it?" Doubt and fear rose to overwhelm me. "I was certain that I took all of them to Mystic Arts, and I double-checked that the missing one isn't in my room, and ...."

"Calm down, dear," Mrs. Horton tried to soothe me. She'd have had more luck trying to single-handedly stop a hurricane.

"Calm down? I'm gonna get expelled because I brought them with me, aren't I?" I started to bawl. "It's not my fault! Someone had to have taken it! I _know_ I didn't lose it!" I wiped at the moisture that was suddenly dripping off my cheeks. "I don't want to go! I'm sorry it got lost, but it wasn't my fault!"

Faster than I thought she could move, Mrs. Horton had me wrapped in a hug. "Calm down, dear," she repeated, holding me in a comforting, motherly hug. "You don't know what Mrs. Carson wants, so there's no sense getting yourself in a tizzy, is there?"

I heard her message, even though I felt like being pessimistic. "I ... I suppose not," I sniffled.

"Besides," she added, "with all the other things you've done without getting in too much trouble, do you think she'd expel you for this?"

"But ... that spike could hurt or kill someone!" I protested, my eyes still leaking.

"Kayda," Mrs. Horton said, leaning back a little and holding my cheeks so we were looking eye-to-eye, "this is a _dangerous_ school, because the students here have their powers, but lack control or the mental discipline to control them. Kids here _die_." She paused to let that sink in. Her blunt acknowledgement of facts hit like a hammer. "Unless it's deliberate murder, you can't be held responsible if someone stole something dangerous. This place is _full_ of dangerous things, like pathogens in the biodevisor labs, weapons at the ranges, and that's to say nothing of the uncontrolled power danger in Hawthorne. Okay?"

"Yeah, but ...."

"No buts," she said, shaking her head. "Unless it was deliberate on your part, you _can't_ be held responsible if someone else took one. Okay?"

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Good. Now wipe your eyes," she said, giving me one more hug before she released me, "and get yourself over to Schuster. I don't think Mrs. Carson will wait. She's pretty busy with paperwork and issues that arose while she was out of the office for a few days."

"I need an escort," I said as I wiped my cheeks and walked to the mirror in the room to touch up my face.

"Already lined up."

"It's not ... Rosalyn," I asked, shuddering involuntarily, "is it?"

Mrs. Horton chuckled. "Yes, dear, I know she's got her eye on you, and unfortunately, she's the only one around, so you'll have to put up with her teasing."

I sighed. "I suppose."

"She's really a good girl," she explained. "Just a little overly enthusiastic in expressing affection, and it looks like you've attracted her attention."

"I already _have_ a girlfriend!" I protested. Mrs. Horton, as housemother, knew the secret of Poe, so I knew that I wasn't saying anything that she hadn't heard before. "I'm not interested in Rosalyn."

"Would you like me to have a talk with her?"

I thought a moment, and then shook my head. "No. I'll figure out how to deal with it. I don't want to look like I can't do anything on my own." I shot her a smile. "Besides, Debra gave me an idea to prank her."

Surprisingly, Rosalyn didn't make any double-entendre comments, nor did she joke about getting me to a movie with her. She _was_ concerned about how I was doing; the grapevine had already spread news that I was in trouble for something. As we walked, I noticed that it was a 'red flag' day, and I wondered about that little bit as well. Mostly, though, I focused on conversing with Rosalyn, wondering when she was going to start with her teasing; I knew such was in character for her, and so far, she'd been very friendly and not in the slightest bit suggestive.

At the entrance to Schuster, I turned to her. "Thanks. I appreciate your help."

Rosalyn smiled, a very pretty smile that _could_ be enchanting if I wasn't attached. "No problem."

"I'm thinking," I said slowly, "that maybe I _should_ ...."

"Go to the hot-tub party?" Rosalyn asked, suddenly excited.

I chuckled. "No. I was thinking that maybe at the next movie night, we could ... talk, and watch the movie together."

Rosalyn looked at me suspiciously. "You're not pulling my leg, are you?"

I shook my head, smiling demurely. "You've been so much help that I figured it wouldn't hurt to ... say thank you and be friends." I looked square into her eyes. "Just watch the movie together. Nothing more."

"I'm looking forward to it," Rosalyn said, smiling warmly. She turned, and with a bounce in her step, walked back toward Poe.

As soon as I turned, I grinned wickedly. Step 1 of the setup done. Another couple of steps, and I could prank her just like Debra had suggested.

That gleeful thought vanished as I walked through the massive entrance hall that doubled as an informal, cozy student lounge, toward the wing that held the admin offices. I paused at the frosted glass door of the admin office suite, and, steeling myself to face whatever music I was fated to face, I walked into the offices.

Elaine Claire looked up from her computer. "Kayda," she acknowledged my presence. "I'll let Mrs. Carson know you're here."

"You're staying late," I observed.

She shook her head, sighing. "A lot of paperwork to catch up on after Mrs. Carson was out. It happens every time she takes a break." She looked down at her phone and pushed an intercom button. "Mrs. Carson, Kayda is here."

"Send her in, please," she answered. For some reason, she sounded a little tired, or distracted.

Wincing, expecting the worst, I hesitantly turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Inside, Mrs. Carson had already risen from a chair, not from behind her desk. There was a man with her, which surprised me. "Kayda, come in and sit down." She gestured to a chair in an informal conversation group, where she'd been sitting and where the unknown guy was standing.

I walked to an unoccupied chair, and before I sat, Mrs. Carson continued, "Kayda, I'd like to introduce Mr. Billy Two Knives."

I shook his hand, and I felt like he was scrutinizing me the same way I was evaluating him.

Mr. Two Knives was about five-ten, and I guessed in his mid-forties. He wore his long, black hair in a ponytail, as was traditional of men from the Nations, as his complexion and face seemed to indicate. His grip was firm and rough, and with the weathered lines on his face, indicated that he wasn't an office-chair occupier, but worked outside for a living. He wore faded jeans and a western-style shirt, with a Native-themed bolo tie, and well-worn moccasins on his feet. His belt was also adorned with imagery and decorations that I recognized as Native American, and more specifically, Lakota.

"Mr. Two Knives," I said formally.

Mr. Two Knives chuckled. "I go by Billy, not Mr. Two Knives. Mister Two Knives sounds so old."

We sat, and I looked to Mrs. Carson for some type of explanation.

"Kayda," she began, "after you told us that Wakan Tanka wanted you to learn Native American skills, I've had my staff looking for a suitable instructor. Mr. Two Knives comes well-recommended, and he seems quite eager to have you as his student." She chuckled. "In fact, I only talked to him this morning, and he caught the first flight he could to come to meet you."

"I see," I said cautiously, looking at Mr. Two Knives more closely. I saw eagerness in his eyes. "Why?"

"Why, what?" he asked. "Why would I want to teach you?" he chuckled. "Because, if I understand correctly, you're the Ptesanwi, and it's my duty - and privilege." He eyed me warily. "You _are_ Ptesanwi, aren't you?"

I felt my spirit stirring, and we became one again. "We are the Ptesanwi," we replied. We noticed that Mrs. Carson had an amused look on her face. "How have you heard this?" We were wary of him.

Mr. Two Knives chuckled, glancing at Mrs. Carson. "When your headmistress informed me that she had a special student, she told me _who_ that student was."

"As soon as he found out who you were," Mrs. Carson interjected, "Mr. Two Knives got on the first available flight to meet you so you could see if he would be acceptable to you as a tutor." She chuckled. "I first spoke with him this morning, and to be honest, I didn't 'expect him to come for a couple of days, not within hours."

We looked warily at Mrs. Carson. "You aren't kidding us, are you?"

Mrs. Carson shook her head. "No. Mr. Two Knives comes highly recommended as an extremely experienced warrior, and a first-class instructor of Native American fighting skills and weapons."

Mr. Two Knives noticed our knife on our belt, and his eyes widened. "Is that a sacred knife?" he asked.

We nodded. "It is Wakan Mila, the knife we carry, and have always carried. It is a gift to us from Wakan Tanka."

"May I see it?" he asked hesitantly.

We nodded, and handed him the knife. The awe on his face as he examined the sacred knife was unmistakable. After examining it, he handed the knife back. As we sheathed it, I felt Wakan Tanka leave me. "What ... what will you teach me?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Traditional weapons. Bow, tomahawk, lance. Hand-to-hand combat. Bareback horsemanship, so you can learn the horse bow."

"I see," I replied. "I'm a little uneasy about learning _more_ combat, but Wakan Tanka was insistent, and ...."

"Kayda," Mrs. Carson said, "it's _your_ decision as to whether Mr. Two Knives will be your tutor. He is highly recommended, but ultimately you have to learn from him, so _you_ have to be comfortable that you can work with him."

"I ... understand."

"Why don't you talk more over dinner? I'd like to talk more with the two of you, but I've got a _ton_ of paperwork to catch up on after my little ... vacation."

"Okay," I said uneasily. "I suppose that will work."

* - * - * - * - *

Crystal Hall

"Do you have any fighting experience?" Billy Two Knives asked as we stood in line, waiting for our turn to get trays and food.

"I fought a snake-demon in the dream-world," I said hesitantly. "After I got my butt kicked by some former friends when I manifested."

Billy Two Knives nodded grimly. "My uncle, our tribe's shaman, told me that almost _all_ shamans have heard of that incident. It is an insult that the white man would treat Ptesanwi so shamefully." He practically spat the words with fire in his eyes; I suspected that if he were in my home town, some of my attackers would be in serious trouble.

"Hey, Buffalo Gal," some guy I didn't know called out to me as he joined the line, "lookin' good, girl!"

I spun, startled at his comment, and little angry at the implication that he was admiring my figure. I had no idea why he would make such a rude, overtly sexual statement, but it annoyed the hell out of me. As soon as I turned, I saw other guys looking at me appreciatively.

"Would you autograph _my_ picture?" One leering guy asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

I was confused by this talk about a picture? I hadn't given anyone any pictures - certainly not the ones on my memory stick with Debra at the Sioux Falls League photo shoot, and most definitely no one outside Poe knew of my poster with Debra. And yet these guys were acting as though there were public pictures of me for them to admire.

"What picture?" I demanded angrily, my eyes narrowed to slits, as I tried to convey with my expression my extreme disgust at the unwanted attention I was getting.

Instead of being intimidated, the guys just laughed, one even saying, "That angry expression is _really_ cute!"

"Yeah," another guy said, laughing, "but there's no way she can look as fierce as Fey did in her poster."

Several other guys joined in the laughter, all looking at me with expressions I took to be unadulterated lust, which really creeped me out. I was starting to feel very flustered and intimidated, almost ready to leave the lunch line and harassment I was receiving.

Billie Two Knives stepped between me and the guys, glowering at them. "You young men are not displaying any knowledge of how to act around a lady, especially one as important as Kayda. Would you perhaps care for a little remedial education?" The tone of his voice and his posture left no uncertainty as to his intention to thrash the guys if necessary to teach them a lesson in respect.

I felt cheeks blushing. That was all I needed – for all these guys to think that I couldn't stand up for myself, but needed a defender to protect me from unwanted attention. It certainly would be readily apparent to even the dumbest of them that their comments about my appearance and the reference to some picture had really gotten to me, flustering me to the point I was nearly speechless.

I decided to do something about that perception. "What picture are you talking about?" I demanded angrily of the first guy.

He merely laughed at me, and asked again, "Can I get you to sign my poster?"

I seethed inside, realizing that these guys were not taking any threat seriously, but treating the whole thing as some kind of sick joke at my expense.

Mr. Two Knives, however, was not amused. He stepped to the first boy, confronting him face-to-face with a wicked sneer, and demanded," You need some lessons in gentlemanly behavior." Though he spoke in a low tone, his voice conveyed a real menace to the boy, and despite puffing out his chest, knowing he was probably much stronger than Mr. Two Knives, Mr. Two Knives' very presence and demeanor conveyed a very real threat.

The boys, gulping, backed down. "Sorry," the first boy said halfheartedly before turning and moving to a different part of the lunch line, away from Mr. Two Knives and me.

"What was that all about?" Mr. Two Knives asked me.

"I have no idea," I replied nervously, wondering about several references to photos that I'd heard in the past few days. "They can't be talking about some pictures I took with the Sioux Falls League when I was staying with them."

"Are those the pictures that that were published in the Lakota Culture magazine?"

I winced, wondering why the League would have published anything without telling me. It was out of season for a calendar, and I didn't _think_ they were going to publish anything else. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, feeling panicked. "Please tell me you're kidding me."

Mr. Two Knives shook his head. "No. There were some very good pictures of you in the magazine as an example of a self-assured young Lakota woman."

"My mom didn't tell me that they were going to publish anything but a calendar." I complained. I was rattled by the attention the guys had given me; I could feel panic rising within me at the thought of some of those pictures being published and having found their way to Whateley. I felt my world closing in as the PTSD rose once again. Mr. Two Knives noticed that something was wrong, and gently put his hand on my shoulder to reassure me.

The panic turned into a dam-burst of fear, to the point that it was winning; I spun away from him, backing away from the line in the crowd of guys seem to be pressing in on me from all sides. My eyes darted about, searching for a nonexistent threat, and frightened as I had been every time I had a PTSD attack. The memories were _trying_ to come back, to overwhelm me.

Laurie, bless her heart, was in line, and saw my reaction. She almost dropped her tray in her haste to get to me, and she wrapped her arms around me holding me and comforting me, while she said over and over in a soothing voice, "It's okay, Kayda. It's okay."

It took a few minutes, during which I felt that everyone in the cafeteria was watching me, as if I was some kind of circus sideshow, but eventually Laurie calm me down, and I got a tray of food and joined Mr. Two Knives in the checkout line, where he was waiting, and watching me in a studious manner. We got checked out and went to my usual table, where Laurie, Adrian, and Vasiliy were already seated. They eyed Mr. Two Knives carefully as he sat across the table from me; he'd clearly learned quickly about how sensitive my PTSD was, and he wanted to make sure he didn't cause another attack.

"Guys," I said, "this is Mr. Two Knives, who will be tutoring me in Native American combat skills."

Mr. Two Knives chuckled. "First, I go by Billy. Second, I'm only going to instruct you if you accept any as your tutor. It's your decision, not mine."

"What sort of things do you teach?" Laurie asked curiously.

"Native horsemanship and weapons," Mr. Two Knives replied with a humble smile, "and the little bit of Krav Maga."

"Krav Maga?" Vasiliy asked, looking at Mr. Two Knives with a little respect. It seemed obvious that Vasiliy had heard of Krav Maga as a martial art form.

"I'm only a third-level expert," Mr. Two Knives said casually, as if reporting the weather. "I find Krav Maga is much more flexible than the old Marine Corps LINE system. That system was intended to fatally disable an opponent, whereas Krav Maga gives you the flexibility of response, from disarming to disabling to killing."

The three students at the table looked wide-eyed at Mr. Two Knives, who seemed amused by the entire conversation.

"What's the difference between native horsemanship and normal horseback riding, if there is one?" Adrian asked, changing the subject slightly. The thought of using martial arts to fatally attack someone was a bit unnerving to the students. "Before I came to school here, I did quite a bit of dressage back home."

"Well, with Native American horsemanship, we don't use fancy things like bridles and saddles," Mr. Two Knives said with a grin.

While they were talking, I got out my medicine pouch and began to make myself a cup of tea. When he saw what I was doing, Mr. Two Knives' eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Is that a traditional herbal tea?"

"Yes," I replied. "My spirit taught me to make it. It has some healing and calming properties that I find very useful."

Mr. Two Knives looked at the herbs longingly. "Would it be asking too much for you to make me a cup as well?"

"No problem."

No sooner had I started to make him a cup of tea than I saw Mindbird coming across the caf toward me, looking more than a little stressed. I chuckled to myself, knowing that my tea, which she'd first been very leery of, now seemed to be her relaxing beverage of choice. Before she even arrived, I began mixing up a third cup of tea for her, and then glancing around the table I saw that Laurie had a pleading look as well. "I should start charging for this," I chuckled as a mixed up the beverages and imbued them with my magic.

"Some days," Mindbird said with a heavy, frustrated sigh, "it'd be worth it."

I didn't have to be an esper or telepath to sense the three junior-high students coming up behind me. "No, girls," I said without turning, "I am _not_ going to make tea for you." I turned to look at their disappointed faces, while my group, and especially Mindbird, chuckled.

"But ...." Palantir started to complain.

"I taught you - twice."

"Someone," Irene glared at Abracadabra, "lost the instructions - again!"

"It wasn't my fault, Pally," Abra whined.

"You were the one who was writing the stuff down," Irene said accusingly.

A couple of tables over, Tansy stood, glaring the direction of the three little witches. Irene had told me that Tansy was their personal supervisor when they weren't in class, and I gathered from Ayla that the girls were getting their jollies out of making her life miserable. From what Ayla had said, they didn't really have to do much extra to accomplish that.

I sighed, then reached into my purse and extracted a folded sheet of dirty paper. "You mean _these_ instructions?" I asked with a wry smile.

Abra looked, and reached for the paper. "That's it! How did you ....?"

I pulled the paper away from her outstretched hand. "Ah, ah, ah," I chided the three.

"But how ...?"

"You girls were so excited last time that you didn't even notice that Abra dropped the paper. I _knew_ you'd be coming back eventually."

"That's _our_ paper," Irene declared, meeting my gaze with her own determined look.

"Not once you lost it," I said. "Finders, keepers."

"You _know_ it's ours!" After a couple of seconds, though, her expression became far less determined. "Please?"

"This is _two_ you owe me," I said smugly as I handed the paper to her.

Irene gulped and nodded. "Okay," she replied grudgingly.

"Don't worry, though," I added with a grin. "I won't ask for much. Just maybe making Tansy's life hell if she bugs me again."

As the little witches scurried away, I looked back at Mr. Two Knives. "How do I know you're any good?"

Mr. Two Knives smiled. "I have permission from your headmistress to give you a demonstration after dinner." He had taken note of my reaction in the serving line. "In fact, you can all come if you want to see some traditional arts."

My eyes silently begged the group to come with us, just to give me moral support. A one-on-one meeting with Mr. Two Knives, an unknown man, terrified me.

"That sounds like it could be fun," Adrian stepped up.

Despite the presence of four teenagers, Mr. Two Knives kept the conversation focused as if he was interviewing me and I was interviewing him. It was almost a surreal experience to have someone guide you as you interviewed them, but I learned a great deal about my would-be instructor. It was a little disturbing to realize that he'd been in the Marine Corps and had been a drill instructor because all of the things I'd heard about how demanding DIs were reputed to be. From what he'd said, he was a very accomplished warrior and teacher of traditional fighting skills. The question was how effective he would be helping me in a school full of superpowered mutants, where traditional fighting skills and weapons might fall woefully short.

Nevertheless, after dinner, the four of us accompanied Mr. Two Knives to Laird Hall, to one of the smaller gyms that was set up for hand-to-hand combat instruction, complete with realistic looking dummies. Mr. Two Knives pulled out a training knife from a duffel bag; it was similar in size and weight to Wakan Mila, but of course had no magical properties. He had me attack one of the dummies, and although I thought that I was very successful, he had a very critical expression on his face.

"You're making basic, rookie mistakes in knife fighting," he said. He took the knife from me, and after backing away, he approached the dummy warily. When he struck, his hand moved fluidly with a knife while his other arm was in a position to block or deflect an attack from the opponent.

To further demonstrate, he gave Vasiliy a practice knife and told Vasiliy to attack him. The movement was so fast I barely caught it; Vasiliy was not inexperienced, but his best attack was easily defeated and Mr. Two Knives expertly placed the blade against Vasiliy's body four times before Vasiliy could react. Naturally, Adrian had to try to demonstrate his own manliness for his girlfriend. The result was the same; no matter how Vasiliy or Adrian tried, they couldn't come close to landing a knife strike on Mr. Two Knives.

Laurie, as a healer, was not thrilled with the thought of self-defense and martial arts, but she seemed to be enjoying the show as I was put through some intense drills.

To make things more interesting Mr. Two Knives had both of the boys attack him, and he very easily defeated them; if it had been a real-life attack, each of the boys would have had four or five major knife cuts without a single mark on him.

After putting away the knives, Mr. Two Knives took his personal tomahawk from his duffel bag and put a safety guard over the cutting-edge. Vasiliy and Adrian moved three dummies into position and when one of them said go, Mr. Two Knives attacked with his tomahawk in a frenzied blur of motion. Had it been real-life, the three dummies would then rapidly and effectively disemboweled, two from direct blows, and the third from having a thrown tomahawk embedded in its skull.

Although the boys had been eager to demonstrate knife fighting skills, neither of them looked particularly eager to attempt the same thing when Mr. Two Knives was armed with his tomahawk. Instead, he had them holding and moving the dummies as if attacking. Again, he moved with manic speed, seemingly everywhere at once as he tore into the two moving dummies mercilessly. I couldn't help but be impressed by his skill, while at the same time I doubted that I would ever be able to learn such moves.

I thought we were done for demonstrations, but Mr. Two Knives continued, using Adrian and Vasiliy to demonstrate some of his Krav Maga skills. In a way, it was not unlike working with Sensei Ito and Sensei Tolman, who frequently had two-on-one or three-on-one sparring sessions, sometimes with weapons, and other times using full powers. With mock handguns, Mr. Two Knives could disarm one of the boys faster than they could react, and before the second one even had a chance to say the word "bang", he would have shot them both if the situation had been real.

Even after all of that, Mr. Two Knives had more surprises in store for me. The training room had some small bows and training arrows, which he prepared.

"These aren't the kind of bow I'll be teaching you," he remarked as he strung the bow and then took a few practice shots to get the feel of it, "it'll work for me to show you what can be done with a bow if you're trained." Mr. Two Knives had Vasiliy and Adrian arrange the dummies and then, at nearly a full run, he wove in and out of the dummies, the whistling hiss of the bowstring sounding time and time again as he shot arrow after arrow, all of which hit the targets, some of them all the way across the training room, forty feet away.

"Well?" He asked me as he hung up the bow, not even breathing hard. "Do you think that there is anything I can teach you?"

"Um," I stammered, in awe of the display of martial efficiency and viciousness I'd seen. "I think ... that I'd like to learn to fight like you do."

Mr. Two Knives chuckled. "It'll take me some time to teach you to be as good as I am. After all, I've had a few more years of experience than you."

"Wakan Tanka believes that I should learn, and as you know how to use the weapons well, I think I would like to learn from you."

"Very well, Ptesanwi," said almost reverently. "It will be my honor to teach you all that I know."

We walked back to Schuster Hall, where Mr. Two Knives was to have a late meeting with Mrs. Carson. After saying goodbye, Laurie and Adrian escorted me back to Poe cottage, while Vasiliy went back to his own cottage. As we walked, Laurie asked, "What did he mean calling you Ptesanwi? I thought your code name was Pejuta."

I winced; I really didn't want a lot of people to know the identity of my spirit, but their curiosity _had_ been piqued by Mr. Two Knives' comment. "Ptesanwi is the name of my spirit," I explained softly, trusting that they'd keep the secret. "She is the Lakota spirit called the White Buffalo Calf Woman."

"That sounds kind of mystical and eerie," Adrian said.

"You can't tell anyone else," I said solemnly. "Please. Ptesanwi is a very important spirit to the Lakota people. It is a great honor for me to have her as my spirit, but I'm afraid that many Lakota people will look upon me as someone sacred or special."

Laurie nodded, saying, "We won't tell anyone else, will we?" She gave Adrian an elbow in the ribs to emphasize her point, and he quickly agreed.

When I got back in my room, Evvie was busily studying, but she glanced up at me. "I expected you home shortly after dinner," she said. "I was starting to get worried."

"Mrs. Carson introduced me to a warrior who is going to be my tutor, and he wanted to demonstrate his traditional combat skills before I decided."

Evvie chuckled. "When are you going to find time for another training class?"

I winced. "I hadn't thought that through. I'm sure since Sensei Ito and Mrs. Carson will figure out some way for me to get the extra training time."

Evvie laughed. "Just make sure you save time on your busy schedule to have a little fun now and again. On the bright side, if you're busy all of the time, Rosalyn can't harass you!"

I gave a halfhearted chuckle. "I suppose there is that." I sat down at my desk, pulled out my books, and began my own studies.

When both of us had finished studying, and after I'd brushed my teeth and was ready to crawl into bed, Evvie leaned up on her elbow on her bed and looked strangely at me. "What?" I asked, puzzled by the expression on her face.

"I was just thinking about your feelings whenever you're talking about Rosalyn flirting with you," she said. There was something in her tone that indicated to me that she was being cautious or that she thought the subject might be a little sensitive.

"I wish she'd stop!" I replied quickly and testily.

She frowned. "That's not what your emotions are saying right now."

"Well, that's what I want!" I huffed and flopped down on my bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked after a couple of minutes.

"No."

"You're feeling a lot more than just annoyance, aren't you?" she asked knowingly.

I sighed. "You're not going to let go of this, are you?"

"No."

Another sigh. "Okay, she ... she scares me."

"Because?"

"Because ... hell, you know. You're the empath."

"The question is whether _you_ know, or acknowledge, what you're feeling," Evvie replied.

"Are you after Dr. Bellows' job?"

Evvie chuckled. "No. But I can tell you're feeling a lot of different emotions when you talk about her."

"I'm ...." I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds to gather my thoughts. "She scares me," I said finally.

"Because ... a part of you likes her flirting with you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. And ... I've had ... some fantasies about her," I admitted softly.

Evvie chuckled. "Every girl in Poe ... at least those on _our_ team ... has fantasized about her," she said.

"She's very pretty, and she's got a sexual appeal to her that's ... hard to ignore."

"But ... I love Debra!" I protested.

"Are you doing anything with Rosalyn?" Evvie asked. "Or is your attraction to her confirming that you really _do_ like girls?"

"I ... I dunno."

"Think of it this way. If you weren't attracted to her, you should worry that you're not really a lesbian. And then you and Debra would have _serious_ problems."

"Maybe," I admitted. "But what if ...? I mean, she's here, and Debra's not, and I've had some pretty erotic fantasies about her. What if ...?"

Evvie smiled. "You're worried that since Rosalyn is here, and Debra isn't, and you've had a couple of erotic dreams about Rosalyn, that you're going to fall for her? Or cheat on Debra?"

"Yeah." Evvie nailed what I was thinking.

"I wouldn't worry about it. If you really do love Debra, you won't do anything stupid."

"Why won't Rosalyn stop, though? I've told her ...."

Another chuckle. "Do you _really_ want her to stop? Or are you enjoying the fact that her flirting makes you feel sexy and attractive?"

Damn, she got me with that one. I really _didn't_ know what I felt about that. Maybe Evvie had a point. Maybe I _did_ like having someone flirt with me, since Debra wasn't here to do it. It took a long time for me to fall asleep as I considered what Evvie had said.

* - * - * - * - *

Kayda's Dream Space, Poe Cottage

I sat by the fire circle, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun on my face. As was typical, Wakan Tanka was brewing tea for the two of us. It was a peaceful, wonderful day, with bright blue, cloudless skies, a gentle breeze rustling leaves, and Debra sitting beside me with her head on my shoulder.

"The warrior your teachers have chosen seems worthy of the task of instructing you," Wakan Tanka said, handing cups to Debra and me.

I chuckled, and Debra gave me a puzzled look at the conversation. "What warrior? What instruction?" she asked.

"I think I told you, sweetie, that Wakan Tanka wants me to learn traditional fighting skills. Mrs. Carson has located an instructor to teach me those skills." I took a sip of tea.

"I guess that would be very helpful," Debra observed, "but I thought Sensei Ito would teach you enough."

"He's making sure I'm learning a lot," I laughed. "He's sort of a sadistic little ...."

"Wihakayda!" Wakan Tanka snapped at me. "Show respect to your teachers and elders. I shouldn't have to tell you that."

I sighed heavily. "I wasn't trying to sound mean or insulting. We _all_ refer to him as a sadistic little runt – or worse."

Debra giggled. "I see some things haven't changed."

I knew sitting at the fire circle wouldn't last, because I hadn't seen Tatanka, and I figured the old goat would drag me off somewhere to learn some lessons from yet another animal spirit. My expectations were accurate; he ambled silently into the camp and rubbed the side of his head on my arm.

"You didn't surprise me," I laughed. "Not when you lumber around like a great noisy cow."

Tatanka frowned. "You've been listening to Ithunkasan too often." he pouted. "I'm _not_ a great noisy cow. I seem to recall that he was using that phrase to describe you."

Debra giggled again so I turned at her with a frown to let her know I didn't find it amusing. Before I could say anything, she kissed me, and I forgot all about being miffed at her.

"Save your kissing for later, Wihakayda," Tatanka snorted. "It is time to meet another spirit, who I think has much to teach you, especially with your new emphasis on learning to fight."

Debra and I followed the shaggy, cuddly beast out of camp. We walked a ways, and eventually Tatanka bade us sit. "Who is it today?" Before Tatanka could answer, I heard the grass rustling and I looked toward the noise.

A squat, furry animal, with white cheeks and white tufts on his ears, and a white stripe from the top of his head to the tip of his snout, looked up at me. After staring a few seconds, he looked at Tatanka. "Is this the one you told me about?"

Tatanka nodded. "Yes, Hoka," he answered. "This is the Ptesanwi, the one who is to come."

Hoka, the badger, frowned. "She looks too young to be the Ptesanwi."

"Nevertheless, she is. And she has come to you to learn."

"You mean, you dragged me here to learn," I interjected sternly.

Hoka laughed. "She has the fiery spirit of Ptesanwi," he said. He turned to me, pausing to glance at Debra. "Who is this?" he asked suspiciously. His posture spoke volumes; he was on guard and ready to defend himself if need be.

"This is Debra," I told the badger, pulling her close and wrapping my arm around her waist. "My beloved." I changed the subject back to the visit. "Why did you bring me here?"

"To learn from Hoka."

"Tell me, young one," Hoka said, squatting down like a dog sitting, "what do you know of my kind, of the badger?"

I couldn't help chuckling. "I know better than to get a badger mad at me," I said. "They're probably the most ferocious animal, size-wise, I've ever seen. Badgers are persistent, and very aggressive, especially when cornered."

"Ah, so you _do_ know something," Hoka said. "Sit." As Debra and I seated ourselves on the ground, Hoka continued. "Am I so ferocious when we sit here and talk?"

"No."

"Precisely. As I go about my day, unlike other animals, I am well grounded, centered, alert but not aggressive."

"But ... I've seen a badger get _very_ aggressive," I countered.

"Why? Why was he aggressive? Was he looking for a fight? Did he stumble across some other animal and decide to do battle?" Hoka asked.

"No," I stammered. "He ... was being harassed ... by a coyote, I think."

Hoka shook his head. "Sunmanitu, the trickster coyote," he said with a sigh. "Every animal is wary around Sunmanitu because of his incessant tricks. And when he's not playing a trick on someone, he's hungry and looking for a meal." The disgust in his voice was plain to hear. "Tell me, Wihakayda," he continued, "what did the badger do? Did he attack the coyote?"

"No," I said, struggling to remember the details. I'd been quite young at the time. "No, he tried to run away."

"Good. And?"

"It was only when he couldn't run that he turned to fight. He even tried to dig his way to safety, I think."

"Yes. We're good diggers," Hoka said proudly, "so good that the People - and most animals - respect us for our talent." The moment of smug self-satisfaction passed. "So why did the badger fight?"

"Because the coyote wouldn't let him escape," I answered confidently.

"And how did he fight once he was forced into combat?"

I didn't have to think of that one. The scene was only too clear, as if it happened that afternoon. "The badger was vicious and relentless attacking the coyote until it gave up and left."

"What was the reason he fought?"

"Because he was attacked?" I asked, hesitantly because I figured it was a trick question.

"And when did he quit fighting?"

It was a eureka moment. "He stopped when it was no longer necessary, when the danger was gone."

"I fight only when there is no choice," Hoka explained, "but when forced, I fight aggressively."

"And Hoka fights with great courage when it is necessary to fight," Tatanka added. "Hoka will defend himself - and his family - against great odds."

I frowned. "That sounds more like suicidal insanity."

Hoka chuckled. "No. Suicidal insanity would be fighting against great odds when there is no reason to fight."

"But how do you know if there is a reason to fight?" I asked. "What if you are wrong about the need to fight?"

Hoka glanced at Tatanka. "She asks questions that are wise," he said. "It is obvious she has tutors other than just you."

Tatanka snorted at the insult. "I am wise, and could teach her all she needs to know."

I couldn't resist. "If that's true, why are you so insistent that I learn from the other animal spirits?" Debra and Hoka laughed, while Tatanka frowned at me.

"How does this apply to your life, Wihakayda?" Hoka asked once he's stopped snickering at Tatanka.

"I ... don't always have to fight," I said cautiously. "But that part's easy. I don't like to fight."

"And that is part of your problem, because you're only thinking of the first half of the lesson" he said firmly.

I wasn't quite sure what he was asking, but when I glanced at Debra, she was smiling knowingly. "What?" I asked her.

"Think about it a moment. How does Hoka fight?"

The image of the badger fighting a coyote came to mind. "When a badger fights, he fights aggressively." The light bulb came on. "If I _have_ to fight, I need to fight as aggressively as I can."

"You need to fight to win," Hoka said with a smile, "_when_ you have to fight."

Debra clutched my arm, leaning her head on my shoulder. "You need to give a hundred and ten percent in a fight - and that's whether sparring, or using magic, or fighting for real. And not give up."

"But ... how do I know when I should or shouldn't fight?"

"Experience," Debra said with a smile. "Which you'll get from occasionally making some mistakes."

"You have a wise companion," Hoka said. "You will learn when it is necessary to fight and when a fight can be avoided, and when you _must_ fight, you will learn to fight as a badger - with courage, aggression, and persistence.

* - * - * - * - *

Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Outside Kirby Hall

"Kayda!"

I turned at the sound of my name, searching to see who had called out to me. Irene, walking beside me to the caf for lunch, also looked around out of curiosity.

"Kayda, I want to talk to you."

This time, I saw the speaker, trying to dart through the crowd to catch up to Irene and me. I could feel my eyes narrowing; the girl approaching was Wind Runner, Doli Peshkali, from the Native American group. "Hi," I said as neutrally as I could manage. I wasn't sure I trusted her, based on how she'd acted in the Native American culture group meetings.

Wind Runner stepped beside me as if invited. "Heading over to Crystal?"

"Yeah. I always meet my friends for lunch." I started walking with her, with Irene on the other side of me watching Wind Runner cautiously.

"Listen, I wanted to talk with you a bit about your idea for my group," she began.

"You mean, Mr. Lodgeman's group, don't you?" I interrupted.

"Well, yeah," she replied, annoyed that I'd forced that admission from her. "But he trusts me to run things when he's on travel, which he's been a lot lately, so ...."

"So you consider it _your_ group?" Irene chimed in from beside me. "I wonder what the others think of that."

Her frown was almost audible. "Well, things are working okay as it is, and we don't want to change things just because someone gets a wild idea."

"I thought it was Mr. Lodgeman's choice, since he's the advisor and organizer," I replied, trying to keep my rising anger out of my voice.

"Yeah, and he trusts _me_, so we're going to just leave things alone," she declared.

"Why?" I asked, getting more than slightly peeved at her. "It could be so much more."

"It works fine the way it is."

"Is that why Stormwolf and Stonebear are there _all the time_?" I asked sarcastically. "Because it's so exciting and fun?"

She stopped abruptly, grasping my arm so I swung around to face her. "Listen, you may have fooled Mr. Lodgeman and a couple of the others with your wild-ass claims to having some kind of mystical spirit," she snarled at me, "but _I_ don't buy it! You and your phony claim to being important aren't welcome!"

I really, really wanted to punch her. Hard. Right in the nose. Hard enough to break it, and maybe spoil some of her pretty appearance. It was taking an effort to rein in my temper. "It's not yours to say."

"Oh yeah?" she snapped, "If you're such hot shit, why aren't you even enrolled in a tribe?"

I flinched, annoyed at her question. I _wasn't_ enrolled, and thus not officially a Native American, at least not in the federal government's eyes, or in a tribal government's.

She saw my reaction. "You're not, so you're not welcome! It's a group for Native Americans, not fakes and wannabes!"

"I'm joining, whether you like it or not. It's not your decision." She was getting my stubborn streak up.

"Not if you're not enrolled, you're not."

"Okay, if that's how you want to act," I said defiantly, "I'll get enrolled, just so I can shove your objections so far up your ass they scratch your tonsils!"

"Hah!" Wind Runner scoffed loudly. We were gathering a crowd, perhaps expecting a physical fight. "It can take years to get enrolled! You'll probably graduate before the paperwork gets approved." She turned to march off, her head held high and her nose slightly upturned, as if I was beneath her.

"We'll see about that! My grandmother is well placed in the tribe. She'll know how to make things happen."

"Good luck with that," Wind Runner scoffed before walking away arrogantly.

I stood in place, glaring after her and fuming. She'd gotten under my skin, and now she was gloating. "I guess I have to call Grandma tonight and hope she can help me get enrolled."

"What do you mean, enrolled?" Irene asked as we started walking again.

"It means you're officially recognized by the tribal government and by the Bureau of Indian Affairs as being at least one quarter Native American."

"So it's like a pedigree or something?"

I started at her comparison. "Yeah, I guess it is," I replied. "I have to prove that I'm at least one quarter Native American."

"Is she right? Is it hard to do?" Irene asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I've heard it can be tough." I shook my head. "I hope not, though."

We walked silently for a few seconds. "What's with Fey?" Irene asked. "She looks upset, and every time I see her, she's got a lot of her friends with her."

"Why do you ask?" I didn't want to betray any secrets; it wasn't my place to tell others what had happened to Nikki if she didn't want to talk.

"'Cause she's up ahead of us, with Phase and Bugs and Chaka and Tennyo and Generator," Irene said, "and they _never_ all come over here to meet Fey at lunchtime."

I looked and sure enough, the group was just ahead of us. I knew that Ayla and Nikki were behind us when we started walking; they must have passed while Wind Runner and I were exchanging words. "I don't know," I lied.

I wasn't on her team, but as a floor-mate in Poe, I was worried about Nikki. I couldn't begin to imagine how her friends felt. They were always with her, never leaving her alone, but even then, she seemed forlorn all the time, as if there was no cheer left in her life.

I wondered, as we walked, if there was anything I could do that would bring her some cheer, but I realized that if her team couldn't comfort her, I probably couldn't either. And Wakan Tanka would just remind her of losing Aunghadhail. I sighed, shaking my head; surely there was something that I could do, but I couldn't think of anything.

* - * - * - * - *

Laird Hall

"No, no, no!" Billy Two Knives said, interrupting the attack I was attempting against him, using a training knife. We were in the gym after dinner, cutting into my homework time, but I'd already agreed with Mrs. Carson and Chief Delarose that I had to really work on my self-defense skills, so I had no room to complain.

"What?" I asked, having frozen in place as soon as he interrupted. It had only taken a couple of minor 'lectures' about stopping so he could correct what was wrong, and I got the lesson; when Mr. Two Knives said stop, or halt, or anything remotely similar, I stopped moving.

"Look at your foot stance," he said. "You're off balance, aren't you?"

I looked down and nodded sheepishly. "Yeah."

Without another word, he did a quick leg sweep, and with a minor blow to my chest, I tumbled to the mat.

"By being off-balance, you left yourself open to having the tables turned on you." He reached down, taking my hand, and helped me back to my feet. "Again."

Once more, I lowered myself into a balanced stance that was remarkably similar to what I was learning in beginning martial arts. I circled warily to my left, causing him to turn, and when he had just lifted a foot to move, I lunged at him.

Effortlessly, he blocked the knife strike, using my momentum against me, and I sailed over his hip to land with a thud on the mat. At least in beginning martial arts, I was learning how to fall so I didn't get hurt. I rolled, getting back to my feet quickly, fast enough to block a blow he was going to deliver to me.

"Good," he smiled. "But what did you do wrong this time?"

I thought a moment. "I don't know."

"When you blocked my attack, you failed to counter. You aren't aggressive enough on your attacks, and that leaves you very unbalanced."

"Hoka," I said under my breath.

Mr. Two Knives grinned. "Yes, Hoka. If you fight, you must do so aggressively." He eyed me questioningly. "How do you know Hoka?"

I chuckled. "Let's just say that Tatanka and Wakan Tanka want me to learn from as many animal spirits as possible, and I've been getting a crash course in life philosophy from a lot of them."

One eye narrowed, while his other eyebrow rose. "You're a dream-walker?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "I'm learning to do that."

Mr. Two Knives chuckled. "I'm not surprised. You _are_ the Ptesanwi, after all."

That name made me wince, because it seemed that he was acting a little bit like a fan-boy and not like an instructor. "Could you just drop the Ptesanwi thing?" Reacting to his confused look, I continued. "It's not going to help you instruct me if you're practically worshipping me, is it?"

"I guess not," he said with a chuckle. "Where did a fifteen-year-old girl get such wisdom?"

"From actually listening to one or two things all those animal spirits have tried to teach me," I chuckled. "From now on, it's just Kayda, okay? No Ptesanwi."

Mr. Two Knives nodded. "Agreed." He smiled. "I suppose it's fitting that you're getting lessons from Hoka. When I was younger, I was a member of Ino'ka, the Badger Society."

"Badger Society?"

"The order is pledged to take on the aspect of the fearless badger. Ino'ka warriors are renowned for extreme ferocity in battle, and for fighting fearlessly regardless of the number of enemy." He smiled. "I'm not a member anymore, so I no longer wear otter fur on my wrists and neck."

"Why not?"

"I'm Wi'ciska, White Marked Society. It's reserved for the best and most experienced warriors."

"Uh," I stammered, "I don't think I'll want to belong to a warrior society."

"There are special societies for women who are warriors," he said before dropping back into his fighting stance. "Okay, Kayda, let's try that again. This time," he added with a grin, "try not to telegraph your moves."

"Huh?" I was a bit confused; he hadn't said anything about telegraphing my intentions. It was an ill-timed distraction; I found myself once again slammed to the mats.

"And don't let yourself be distracted," he added, smiling smugly.

I got back in my fighting stance, and as I watched him prepare for my incipient attack, I had a funny feeling that I'd seen his motions before, even though I couldn't remember were.

The result was only marginally better than the previous fourteen attempts; I didn't telegraph my attack quite as much, and I avoided his attempted foot sweep, plus I didn't get thrown too hard.

"Better," Mr. Two Knives said. "You're getting there."

"Yeah, right," I said sarcastically. "I don't think I made any progress at all." I shook my head. "I couldn't do _anything_ against you."

He chuckled. "If you had thirty years of experience fighting, you'd be winning every time because I'm a baseline. For the first time training with a knife, you weren't doing badly."

"It doesn't feel like it."

"You have to be patient. It'll come."

Suddenly, things clicked, and I goggled at him. "You're animal spirit - he's igmu taka, isn't he?"

Mr. Two Knives was a little surprised. "How do you know that?"

I smiled at having guessed correctly. "Because of what I learned about igmu taka," I replied. "He has power, but he balances it with patience and cunning. He's swift, but not impulsive, planning his moves and attacks to avoid surprises." I chuckled. "I watched him hunt. You move the same way."

"Very good," he said with a pleasant smile. "I was right to not underestimate you." He put the knife back in the cabinet. "Let's work with the tomahawk for a while."

"But ... there are more types of fighting than just igmu taka," I said to him, confused. "How am I to fight mato the bear, or hoka the badger, sunmanitu the coyote, sugmanitu hota the wolf, or skecathanka the wolverine, ithunakasan the weasel, or any of the other animal spirits who guide those who fight?"

"Why?" Mr. Two Knives asked. "Why would you need more than one fighting style, or type of opponent?"

I shrugged, frustrated at his indifference. "Because, they all fight differently. They all have different strengths and weaknesses."

He positively grinned. "I see that you've learned from your spirit mentors. In answer to your question, yes, they all fight differently, but there are only a handful of characteristics that are combined to any animal spirit's fighting style. Grace, strength, power, patience, agility, risk taking, observation, aggressiveness - these are the primary characteristics. If you can counter all of them, you will fare better against the various combinations."

"And I suppose you teach fighting all aspects of the spirits," I said sarcastically.

"Yes, I do," he said with a smile. "It's why I'm an effective warrior and teacher."

"Oh." I considered what he was saying.

"Now, let's do some work with tomahawks, and then we'll work on some Krav Maga."

An hour and a half later, I stumbled, aching and bruised, into Poe. Just my luck, Rosalyn was one of the first people I bumped into.

"What happened to you?" she asked, concerned, as she eyed up and down my stiff, sore figure that was mottled with bruises all over.

I knew that she suspected another attack. "It was my 'extra' training," I explained to put her mind at ease. "My Native American tutor is ... quite thorough."

"You look like you went fifteen rounds with Chaka," she mused.

"I _feel_ like I've gone fifteen rounds with her." I sighed wearily. "Right now, I'd give just about anything for a nice, hot soak in a tub." As soon as the words slipped out of my mouth, I regretted them.

Rosalyn's eyebrows shot up. "I think something can be arranged," she replied, trying not to grin like a Cheshire cat.

"By the time the hot tub party comes around," I said, "I won't be bruised and tired."

"Who says we have to wait?" she asked with a mischievous, leering grin. "What's your tutor teaching you?" Rosalyn changed the subject, and turned to walk with me up the stairs.

"Native American combat skills. We worked on knife and tomahawk tonight, with a little Krav Maga thrown in for good measure."

"That sounds ... intense," Rosalyn said. "But aren't those weapons kind of primitive?"

I chuckled as we walked down the hall of the second floor. I was getting a few looks from the girls - some of whom looked jealous, and some who had a knowing grin. "The advantage is that they don't rely on technology. No matter what kind of devise or gadget someone comes up with, they're still effective."

"Good point," she said. "But they sound so ... messy."

"Yeah," I said, nodding wearily. "That's one thing he was working with me on. If I have to use them, it's going to be really ... gross ... and I have to get past that."

"Ick!'

I shrugged. "It can't be much worse than seeing my buffalo rip the guts out of two different villains."

"Eeewww!"

"And Debra's wound that I healed was pretty gross, too."

Rosalyn made a face and put her fingers in her ears. "I _so_ do not want to be hearing this!"

I grinned. "Still want me to come to the hot-tub party if I talk like this?"

Rosalyn goggled at me, and then she grinned knowingly. "As if I wouldn't distract you from that kind of talk!'

"Well, you just keep thinking that," I said, mockingly sweet as I leaned forward as if to kiss her, but pinched her cheek instead. "You're so cute when you think you've won." With that, I walked into my room, leaving her standing in the hall with an expression that said, 'what just happened here?' At least, it halfway asked that question. The other half of her expression seemed to say that she knew she was making progress.

Evvie didn't even bother to look up; her empath power sensed my emotional state - fatigued, pleased, and a little frustrated and concerned - before I even opened the door. "How was your special class?"

"Intense," I replied, slumping heavily onto my bed. "I'm going to have to do something about this schedule, because if we work out after dinner, I won't have enough time to do my homework."

"And what's the reason you feel kind of smug?"

"I'm not smug," I replied testily.

Evvie chuckled. "You're broadcasting that emotion pretty strongly. So what's up? Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?"

I sighed. "You know how Rosalyn has been acting?"

"Yeah. I think she's got a thing for you."

"Debra gave me some ideas to prank her so _maybe_ she'd back off."

"How would Debra know ...?"

"Debra and Rosalyn, um, last year, they, um, ...."

"Okaaaayyy," Evvie said cautiously.

"I'm not jealous, honest," I said defensively. "That was before we knew each other. Besides, I was fooling around a lot with my girlfriend, so it's not like I was any better."

"True. But ... you _are_ a little jealous, aren't you?"

I blushed. "Only because she and Debra ... and we haven't." I decided to change the subject. "I'm so sore that I'd love a hot soak in a tub."

"Don't say that anywhere near Rosalyn or you'll get ...."

"I _did_ accidentally say it," I said, wincing.

"And now she thinks you want to go to the hot tub party?" She shook her head, chuckling. "Good luck dealing with that."

"I'm going to take a warm shower," I grumbled. "So I don't have to put up with _you_ teasing me the same way Rosalyn was." I bounced from the bed to my feet and quickly stripped, put on my robe, and grabbed my toiletries kit.

"Don't forget to turn on the noise cancelling system," Evvie said with a grin.

"Oooohhh!" I grumbled. I turned and stomped out of the room to the bathroom.

* - * - * - * - *

Rosebud Indian Reservation

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Chief Dan growled at the phone as he walked slowly, painfully, from the bathroom toward the source of the interruption. "It never fails," he muttered to himself.

"Dan Bear Claws," he said unenthusiastically.

"Chief? I've got some news for you."

Dan perked up when he recognized the voice of his operative. "What?" He didn't have time to play nice social games on the phone.

"I've heard that she's going to enroll with your tribe," the operative reported.

A smile crept across Dan's face. "That's great news. I'll have to report it to the shaman immediately."

"But there may be complications."

"Oh?"

"Word is that the school has hired a private tutor for her."

"A private tutor? Why?" Dan's mind was racing; if she was getting a tutor, then it could be that she was content, or, God forbid, even happy at the school. "Tutoring her in what?"

"Native American fighting skills."

"Damn! What the hell am I going to do about that?"

"It gets worse."

"How could it get worse?" Dan snapped.

"There's an informal Native American culture group on the campus that she's getting involved with."

"Damn. You've got to figure out a way to keep her out of that group, to keep her isolated."

"How?"

Dan sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. Get creative. That's what I'm paying you for."

"Okay.

Dan hung up the phone and thought. This whole thing was getting a lot more complicated than he'd originally counted on. He'd have to figure out how to deal with these latest setbacks. Meanwhile, he had a task to do. He punched in a few numbers and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" the familiar voice on the other end of the phone asked.

"It's me, Chief Dan."

"I presume this isn't just a social call?"

"No. I just got some news from my operative," Dan admitted with a frown.

"Go on," the shaman commanded.

"She's going to enroll in the tribe," Chief Dan said plainly.

"I already know that," the shaman said impatiently.

"Won't that take a few months?"

"No," the shaman cut off his protest. "Let me handle that. I've got favors I can call in to speed that through the system in a matter of days. What else?"

"She's got a private tutor for Native American skills."

"Oh? A private tutor? _That_ I hadn't heard."

"And she's getting involved with an on-campus Native American student group."

"Keep her out of that group. I don't care what your insider has to do, you _must_ keep her out of that group."

"I already told my operative that."

"As to the tutor ...." The shaman paused, leaving silence on the phone for several awkward seconds. "Hmmm. I think we can make this work _for_ us."

"For us? How?"

"If she's getting tutoring for skills, then make her a gift from the tribe. Something very important to help her learn those skills."

"Yeah, but what?"

"You're supposed to be a chief, dammit!" the shaman snapped. "She's learning fighting skills. What's the most important gift a young warrior can get?"

"A ... a horse?"

"Yes, of course I'm thinking of sukawakan. Get her the best pinto you can. It's very symbolic, and the gift will be appreciated and will endear her to her tribe."

"But ... isn't that going to be expensive?"

"I've told you to let me worry about the cost. She'll be home for Spring Break in a week and a half. Make sure you arrange to get it to her then."

Chief Dan frowned at the way the shaman was ordering him around. It was demeaning. "Is she going home? The high-school boys tried to kill her twice."

"I've got that little problem under control. By the time she comes home, the townspeople will be afraid to say or do anything against her."

"I'll get a horse for her, and we'll arrange to deliver it to her home."

"Or possibly to Sioux Falls if she decides to not come home. She has friends in Sioux Falls."

"This isn't going to be easy to line up in that short a time."

"Maybe you _shouldn't_ have been chief, then, if you can't do a simple task like this." The shaman slammed down the phone, leaving the sting of an insult ringing in Chief Dan's ears.

* - * - * - * - *

Kayda's Hometown

Kayda's former friends JJ, Skelly, and Rich walked quickly out of the burger shop and teen hangout, and looking around themselves frequently and nervously, they scampered to JJ's car. Once inside, they relaxed a bit, but only slightly, because the car was parked in a darker area, since all the better-illuminated spots nearer the burger joint had been taken when they arrived.

"This is getting kind of freaky," Rich said, his voice quavering.

"I know," JJ replied. "Scott and Shelly got the crap beat out of them, and Scott was threatened with castration, but he was adamant that we have to stick to our story. The sheriff will find what's going on and stop it."

"How?" Skelly whined. "There aren't _any_ clues. No footprints, no fingerprints - it's like they're ghosts appearing out of nowhere."

"And the sheriff still doesn't have any clue about ... you know," Rich said, alluding to the break-ins that had left notes and animal testicles, and the sabotage of the guys' cars. "I ... I can't take much more of this."

"Quit being a whiny little pussy!" JJ admonished him sharply. "We've got our story, and if we stick to it, well, there's no proof of what we did."

"It ... it was _Brandon_!" Rich complained. "Our friend that we did it to."

JJ turned and glared at him. "It was a fucking mutant," he snarled. "Not Brandon. And it had it coming to it." He turned his attention back to the car and turned the key.

Nothing happened. The boys' eyes widened in shock, as JJ tried again and again, with the same results - nothing.

Before JJ could react, the doors of the older two-door car were yanked open, and roughly, JJ and Skelly were yanked from the car. Hands clamped over their mouths instantly to prevent any noise. A couple of seconds later Rich joined them after being dragged roughly out of the back seat in a fashion that was going to leave bruises.

One man held each of the boys, their arms pinned painfully behind their backs in a way that suggested that the unknown assailants knew precisely what they were doing. In front of them, two more men stood looking at them, although the faces of the men were hidden by ski masks.

"We know what you did," one man hissed menacingly, drawing a wicked-looking knife from his boot. He waved it casually an inch or so in front of the throats of the boys, seeming to relish in the terror that filled their eyes. "Confess or suffer the consequences." He paced in front of the captives, letting the sharp steel blade touch their throats as the boys tried unsuccessfully to pull back from the knife.

The second man, following the first, suddenly delivered two sharp strikes to the side of Skelly's torso, with an audible crack, and as Skelly flinched at the sharp pain of broken ribs, he kneed him very hard in the groin, causing Skelly to crumple. The man holding Skelly let him fall to the ground, where he curled up in a fetal ball in agony.

Rich and JJ's eyes widened even more when the one who'd been holding Skelly kicked the boy very hard in the crotch. Skelly retched, hurling the contents of his stomach at the incredible pain, and even that caused more suffering as the convulsive spasm of his guts pulled at the broken rib.

JJ barely had time to think before he was similarly assaulted and injured, leaving Rich standing, his eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets, and a look of profound terror on his face.

The man with the knife held the blade to Rich's throat again, and leaned close to the captive boy. "Well?"

"I ... we ... I didn't ... mean to!" the terrified boy stammered, tears running down his cheeks. "The others ... started it, and we'd been drinking, and ...."

"Confess to the police," the masked man hissed again. Rich nodded feverishly, beads of sweat running down off his forehead and face. "We'll know if you don't," he said threateningly, moving the knife down to Rich's groin. "If you don't, ...."

Rich nodded again, gulping.

"Good." The arms holding him relaxed, but he knew that with at least five assailants, he couldn't run.

A second man thrust something in front of Rich. "Here." Rich hesitantly took the Sharpie marker pen, wondering what was going on. "Write as I direct on each of your friend's foreheads."

Hesitantly, avoiding the pools of vomit on the ground, Rich knelt beside Skelly. With a last glance up at the circle of men surrounding him, one holding a wicked-looking knife, he wrote what he was told in large letters on Skelly's forehead. Looking up again, he saw the man nod and point with the knife blade to JJ. As with Skelly, Rich wrote on JJ's forehead.

No sooner had he finished than a something was clasped over his nose and mouth, and as he struggled, awareness faded quickly.

Nodding, the man who'd given Rich the marker took it back, and similarly marked Rich. The small band stood, and tilting their heads back, shrieked a frightening native war cry, a terrifying, ululating howl of primal anger and triumph. A moment later, they faded away from the boys lying on the ground, leaving no traced of their having even been there.

The war cry was heard inside the burger shop, and immediately, over a dozen boys and girls spilled out, looking around. It took a moment, but the group quickly located the source of the disturbance - sixty or seventy yards from the entrance, on a side street, they could see three figures lying on the ground. Like moths drawn to a flame, the group satisfied their morbid curiosity and anxiety for their friends by circling around the three, avoiding the disgusting puddles on the ground. One produced a penlight, and as he shone it on the boys on the ground, a couple of girls screamed.

The last thing they expected to see was the word "RAPIST" written boldly on each of the boys' foreheads.

Cheryl, one of Julie's friends, turned to her friend Harry, mouth open in shock. He had the same look of disbelief. The two looked at Shelly, who was holding her hand in front of her mouth, staring in shock at the three boys on the ground. Unlike the others gathered around, she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

* - * - * - * - *

Thursday, March 29
Laird Hall

"My turn," Anna said cheerfully, coming over to where I was working out with Britomart in fourth period martial arts. Britomart made me finish the kata I was working on, and then gave me a curt bow and strode back to the main group.

"We better get right to the lesson so Sensei Tolman gets upset."

Anna demonstrated some moves, and I just shook my head. "You expect me to move like that?" I asked, astounded. "I don't think my body will do half of that stuff."

"Oh, yeah," she blushed. "Sorry." She'd forgotten that I didn't move the same way her spirit and physiology worked best for her.

"You move like ...," I thought a moment, "like Zica."

Anna wrinkled her brow. "Who's Zica?"

I gave a little amused snort. "Sorry. It's ... a Native American spirit. The spirit of the squirrel, Zica. And the ground squirrel, Tasnaheca."

"Wow! You've met these spirits?" Anna asked, wide-eyed.

"My spirit showed me them, and taught me why they're important, but I haven't actually _met_ them yet. Heads up - here comes Sensei Tolman."

As I expected, Sensei Tolman chided us for talking instead of working, and then had us spar several rounds - which was totally frustrating to me, because I got my butt kicked every single round. Between rounds was an analysis of what I'd done right, and what I'd done wrong. The latter list was always the longer of the two.

"Well, that was humiliating," I mumbled as I got up from the last round, sore all over. "I don't see the point."

Sensei Tolman overheard. "The point, Kaya, is for you to improve your fighting skills."

I snorted. "I'm already good at losing. I don't see that I need much more practice at that."

"Against a baseline," Anna chimed in happily, "you'd have kicked butt. You're getting better."

"Hmphh," I scoffed. "I don't feel like it's doing any good."

"That's because you're learning from, and practicing with, advanced students, who've had at least one term of martial arts, and in most cases, two terms."

Anna went back to the advanced group, while Sensei Tolman had me run through my katas, chewing me out when I did something wrong. At least it felt like she was chewing me out, because she didn't seem to find _anything_ that I was doing right.

After two more torture sessions of sparring, when class was over, I was in the locker room when Anna plopped down on a bench next to me. "You're getting better," she said to reassure me.

"Doesn't feel like it," I grumbled.

"In another couple of weeks like this, you'll be winning most of your sparring matches in basic martial arts," she predicted.

"If I don't die of being bruised and battered first. I've got two periods of martial arts, and then after classes, a tutor teaching me Native American fighting skills."

"That sounds _so_ cool!" Anna said appreciatively. "I wish _I_ could learn more fighting skills and styles, but Senseis Tolman and Ito keep me busy enough, and I have to have time for studying, and ...." She blushed a bit.

"And your boyfriend, right?" I asked with a knowing smile.

"Yeah," she replied softly, as if it was a state secret. After we got showered, while we were drying off, Anna asked, "What was the thing about today, the Native American spirit, zinc?"

"Zica," I chuckled. "He's the squirrel spirit. My buffalo spirit has me meet the animal spirits so I can learn from them."

"Like hiding nuts and running up and down trees?"

"Hardly," I chuckled. "Zica and Tasnaheca teach important lessons about being prepared, and planning things well, but also about being adaptable. What they teach is very important to the People. In the days of the bison, the People had to conserve and store food for the winter, just like Zica. But even though life was hard for the People, they learned from Zica to balance work and play, to be part of their larger group."

"Wow!" Anna said, amazed at what I'd explained.

"Your spirit is Zica, isn't it?" I said. "I see his moves in your movement."

She nodded, wincing in embarrassment. "Yeah. Pretty lame, isn't it?"

"Not at all. Your spirit is revered by the People for the lessons he teaches."

Her eyes widened. "Really? You're not just teasing me are you?"

Like the day before, Anna walked with me to my next class, all the while practically begging for more information about Zica and Tasnaheca - what they were like, were they fun or grumpy, were they cute - standard questions someone with a squirrel spirit would ask a shaman who visited squirrel spirits. I enjoyed talking with her, although the sparring thing wasn't yet among my favorite ways to spend time with her.

For some unexplained reason, as we neared Kane Hall, where language classes were taught on the upper floors, above the security offices, I tripped on an uneven spot in the walk and fell, dumping my backpack, just in time for a gust of wind to scatter my papers.

Anna, bless her heart, helped me retrieve all of the blowing papers, and after telling her thanks and putting everything back in my backpack, I went into class while she went off to her next period.

I would have thought nothing of it, except that as I was walking back from Electronics with Delta Spike, I tripped again. I looked around, suspicious this time, but I didn't see anyone watching me except the idly-curious who would normally stare if someone fell down. Suspiciously, it was the same pattern - I fell down, my book bag was slung from my shoulder, and an ill-timed gust of wind blew many of my papers away. I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was pranking me, and that both occurrences were not coincidental.

* - * - * - * - *

Crystal Hall, Dinnertime

"Incoming," Evvie said, looking over my shoulder. We were in the caf, sitting at 'our' table eating, hoping for once to have an event-free meal. Alas, it was not to be.

"Mindbird or the three little witches for more tea?" I asked, resignation in my voice.

"No," Naomi said, her voice quavering. "It's a few girls from ... Wondercute."

"Wondercute?" I stammered, astonished.

"Yeah. Generator, Dragonrider, and Aquerna, and they're looking straight at you."

"Oh, gods!" I swore softly. "Why me?"

"Might as well face the music," Laurie said with a snicker.

I sighed, and turned just as the trio stopped. "Can I help you?" I asked, trying to be polite, even though Wondercute apparently spread fear and terror across the campus by their very existence. Even though their T-shirts were trimmed in different colors, and with different animals embroidered on the chest, there was no mistaking that they were part of an unofficial 'uniform' for the dreaded team.

"Hi, Kayda," Jade said cheerfully. Her T-shirt had a 'Hello, Kitty' theme, which caused grimaces around the table.

"Hi," I replied stiffly. "Hi, Anna," I said in turn to Anna, who had a shirt with an embroidered squirrel on it. It wasn't hard to deduce that the other one was Dragonrider, both from Naomi's warning and from the dragon embroidered on her shirt.

"I'm Lindsay," the girl with the dragons said, holding out her hand to shake.

While grasping Lindsay's hand, I couldn't help asking, "Is there something I can help you with?"

The three girls exchanged nervous glances, and then they started giggling softly. "We ... we wanted to ask you if you'd have dinner with us," Lindsay said nervously.

"She'd _love_ to," Evvie said with a wicked grin, which earned a glare from me. "Why, just at lunchtime Kayda was saying how it would be nice to expand her circle of friends, wasn't she?"

Adrian frowned, and opened his mouth to speak, but a sharp elbow in his ribs from Laurie shut him up. "That's right," she chimed in.

"So go, have fun," Naomi said in a motherly tone. "We're always here, but you don't get a chance to dine with others all the time."

"Especially not with a team with the ... awesome ... reputation as Wondercute."

"That's great!" Anna squealed happily. "I'll carry your tray!"

"Everyone is _so_ anxious to meet you," Lindsay said, giggling.

Resigned to being railroaded by my friends, I stood and followed the trio, pausing only to turn and look at Naomi, and mouth, "I am so going to get you for this!"

We went up to the second level, which was a bit intimidating, since I'd never eaten on an upper level. Ironically, the same girl who had chastened me only a few days ago about ascending to the upper levels was coming down the stairs as the three Wondercute members and I walked up. She gave me a questioning look, but said nothing, which made me smile.

Dinner was chaotic, at best. The topics shifted fluidly, rapidly, and with the accompaniment of much good cheer and giggling. The girls introduced themselves; three I knew - Bunny, Jade, and Anna. The others were Lindsay, who was also known as Dragonrider because she could manifest a dragon, Molly, also called Gateway, whose companion was an ancient huge panther-like cat named Rythax, and Misty - Superchick - who had a fondness for unicorns. The main topic of discussion was figuring out how to get back at a group of Southern rednecks called the Good Old Boys, who'd apparently seriously dissed Molly and Anna, a slight that deserved serious retribution, something that would humiliate the rednecks even worse than they'd done to Jericho some time back.

"We're meeting in Anna's room. Please come with us!" Jade begged as soon as we were all done eating and were busing our trays. She was making use of what Ayla and Toni called her plus-ten Big Sad Puppy-Dog Eyes. I realized that they were only half-joking about how effective Generator could be by using that sad, pleading look in her eyes.

"I guess I can - for a little while," I relented. Even Tatanka would be powerless against such formidable weapons. "But I've got a Native American group meeting at eight-thirty, so I can't stay long."

"Oh. What's that like?" Lindsay asked.

I shrugged. "Not great, so far. But I've got ideas to make it more fun." I grinned. "If it was a formal club, then we could do things like camp out, or use the simulators for things like buffalo hunts."

"Oooohhh!" was the general reaction. "That'd be so cool!"

"With traditional weapons - horse bow and arrows."

"I heard you have a buffalo you can manifest," Molly said softly, like she was afraid to say anything.

"Yeah. Jade saw him, and I've had to summon him a couple of times to defend myself."

"Oooohhhh! Can we see?"

"You're going to love it. He's so kyooooot!" Jade cooed.

"Okay." With that, I had Tatanka manifest, in St. Bernard size.

"What's his name?" Lindsay asked, goggling the bison with adoration in her eyes.

"He's Tatanka," I replied. "And I can have him manifest from full size to lap-dog size."

"Ooohhh! That's so cool!'

Molly thought for a moment, and then concentrated. Almost instantly, a sort-of gate thing opened, and a black, winged panther-sized creature manifested. "I can summon Rythax," she said proudly.

Tatanka frowned, and then walked cautiously to the black shadowcat. He sniffed the cat, who was watching him warily. "Rythax. It has been a very long time," he said, startling the girls.

"Indeed, Tatanka. It was before the Sundering," Rythax answered in a neutral tone.

"Now we find ourselves meeting once again," Tatanka said.

"Yes. And I hope we can continue our friendship as before."

"Indeed, Rythax."

Misty was staring at Tatanka. "You know, we should call him Mr. T. That sounds so cool!"

Tatanka slowly turned his head and stared at her as if she was joking. "Who, or what, is this Mr. T?" he asked after trying - and failing - to stare down Misty.

"He's so cool. My dad watched the reruns of the A-Team TV show all the time. Mr. T was soooo awesome!"

"You are _not_ going to call him Mr. T!" I snapped as soon as I realized what they were thinking.

"Why not?" Lindsay asked, getting excited by the prospect of a nickname for Tatanka.

"Mr. T would be a lot better than what Toni calls him - Tonka Trucka!" Jade chimed in.

Misty grinned, and leaned closer to Tatanka, whispering in his ear. I didn't like what she was up to.

My fears were proven well-founded when Tatanka de-manifested for a moment, and re-manifested - with his fur in a shaggy Mohawk, close-cropped on the sides, and then furry again around his horns, trailing down into what would be sideburns, a thin moustache, and a beard. His eyes were narrowed angrily, and around his neck were dozens of chains that looked like gold.

"Tatanka," I cried in horror. "What are you doing?"

"The request wasn't harmful, and it entertains your friends," he replied in deep, gruff voice. "And if anyone don't like it, I pity the fool!"

The girls all giggled gleefully at that, while I face-palmed and rolled my eyes. Good grief - this was awful. "What is Wakan Tanka going to say?" I asked, hoping to appeal to his sense. "This ... isn't seemly for the mighty Tatanka."

No matter what I tried, I couldn't get the fool buffalo to change back; he seemed to be enjoying my discomfort, or he was relishing in attention from the other girls. In either case, I was frustrated and embarrassed by my spirit, but I gave up trying to persuade them otherwise. As soon as I made one logical argument, four or five more 'cute' statements would arise, peppering me from all directions with questions to refute, or worse, points that were completely unrelated that would sidetrack the discussion into a frenzy of oohs, aahs, and giggles. It was easier to just give up and deal with Tatanka later.

There were only a few things I got out of the nearly forty-five minutes I spent with the girls of Wondercute: first, anyone who didn't like 'cute' was someone to be converted or shamed into silence about 'cute'; second, the type of treatment they were talking about for the so-called 'enemies of cute' was truly frightening to any sane person; third, they couldn't decide on which of these enemies they should strike first; and fourth, the topic of discussion bounced around with all the rationale of a random number generator on amphetamines. If there was a pattern that could be harnessed from the seeming randomness, it would create an encryption scheme so strong as to defy the best mathematicians in the universe. Certainly, if such a resulting encryption technique included words and phrases from the actual conversation, it would instantly render insane anyone attempting to crack the code.

By the time I had to go to the Native American meeting, I understood the terror that Wondercute instilled in the hearts of many. It was obvious that the girls wanted me to join their ranks, although it wasn't clear if it was because they thought I would love their concepts of cute, or, more likely, they thought Tatanka was cute. My dilemma was that I wasn't into 'cute', but I also realized, from their wild and chaotic discussion, that I didn't want them angry with me.

* - * - * - * - *

Schuster Hall

"Last week," Mr. Lodgeman said at the end of the meeting, as soon as he had everyone's attention, which took all of ten seconds after he stood in the front of the room, "Kayda offered a suggestion, and I think it's worth presenting to the entire group to see what you think. After all," he said, smiling modestly, "this group is for _you_, not for me." He looked my way. "Kayda?" He was suggesting - strongly - that I come to the front to present the idea.

Wind Runner's glare at me had been nonstop, from the time I'd arrived at the meeting, and it transformed from dislike to outright hostility. The malice in her expression was unnerving, and I swallowed hard, realizing that she was rapidly becoming a foe, even though I had nothing against her.

"I was thinking last week," I began nervously, "that if this group was a formally-recognized campus group, it would bring some advantages."

"Like paperwork?" someone in the back called out, which elicited some chuckles.

Surprisingly, the lighthearted banter made me less nervous. "Yeah, well there is that," I replied. "But recognized groups get to use campus resources that we can't. This group could have a private clubhouse, where we could meet anytime, instead of having to meet only when there is an empty classroom."

"That would be nice," someone - I think it was Slapshot - commented.

"Yeah. And if we were working on projects, we wouldn't have to clean them up every night when the meeting is over," Lupine added.

"Plus, we could petition for some of the student activity fees for supplies, which I think you all have to buy yourselves, right?" I continued.

"That would be too much red tape," Wind Runner objected.

"Maybe," Mr. Lodgeman said, "and maybe not. It certainly wouldn't hurt your cause that Native Americans are a recognized minority by the federal government. And it wouldn't hurt if you had a trustee advocating for you."

"I think the group could do so much more," I said, on a roll. "Besides just telling tales and singing, we could learn native skills. We could have native-themed campouts. We could learn traditional weapons and fighting."

"That sounds cool," Stonebear observed.

"And," I saved the best for last, "if we were a recognized group, we could use the simulators for activities like simulated buffalo hunts, or raiding parties."

"Yeah," a few of the guys said enthusiastically. "That sounds _really_ cool."

I glanced around, and the girls looked a lot less enthusiastic about the idea of simulated hunts and raids. "And that wouldn't just be for the guys," I continued. "Lakota legends tell of a woman who led a raiding party against incredible odds, and succeeded. I'd have to look it up, but I bet most cultures have similar lore about great warrior women."

"I still think it'll be more trouble than it's worth to become a recognized organization." As I expected, it was Wind Runner, and her eyes were shooting daggers at me. Clearly, she thought I was trying to usurp her spot as leader of the group.

"I don't know," Mr. Lodgeman said thoughtfully. "Having our own facilities alone would simplify life for our group, just in scheduling and planning meetings." He looked around the room. "Show of hands - who thinks we should explore this option more?"

Immediately, hands shot into the air, and looking around, I gathered that well over half the assembled group liked the idea. Wind Runner was notably not among those holding her hand up.

Mr. Lodgeman nodded at the showing. "Okay, as unofficial advisor and sponsor, I'd like you," he was looking right at me, "to write up a formal proposal that we can present to the administration after we review it in here."

"Will this be open to only those who are enrolled Native Americans? At least on the planning team?" Wind Runner asked innocently.

"Since we aren't a formal group yet," Mr. Lodgeman replied easily, "we don't have formal membership requirements." He recognized that Wind Runner was still glaring at me. "Besides, if I didn't believe a person wasn't genuinely interested in Native American culture and lore, I wouldn't ask them to write up a proposal."

"I think it'd be better if I had help writing the proposal," I said, trying to take the attention off myself. "Maybe a small committee?" I was honestly hoping that Wind Runner would volunteer, so she'd realize that I wasn't trying to usurp control of the group.

Hands shot into the air again as people volunteered. Mr. Lodgeman surveyed the group. "Lifeline, Thunderbird, Slapshot - your hands were up the fastest. You get your wish to work with Kayda on a draft proposal." He watched the grins form on the three, and a few looks of disappointment. "For the rest of you, I don't think the committee will turn down any suggestions or help. Oh, and one more thing - we're about a week from spring break. I'd like it if you can write a charter, review it with the group, and work with me to get an appointment with Mrs. Carson, Mrs. Shugendo, and Ms. Hartford to present this proposal before spring break." He read the shocked expressions on all our faces.

"One week? Are you kidding?" Slapshot asked.

"You've got several charters you can use as a blueprint, and you just have to customize it for this group," Mr. Lodgeman said. "It'll be easy to get it revised and reviewed electronically. It would be advantageous to have the proposal in the administration's hands for them to consider during break, when there aren't little distractions like classes and students getting in trouble."

The meeting broke up, and I met Verdant, who'd drawn the short straw to provide escort for me. I smiled at her. "Nervous?"

She winced a bit, but tried to shake her head no.

I chuckled. "After what happened to me last week, if I were in your shoes, _I'd_ be nervous."

Verdant nodded, relieved that I understood. "I guess I am, a little bit."

"Mr. Geintz wouldn't let me out if there was any threat like last week," I said. "But we're _not_ going in the tunnels this time."

"Good. Because it's easier to run away above ground."

As we walked toward Melville, we passed a couple of boys walking the other way. They stopped, looking at me, and then grinned. "Hey, Buffalo Gal," one of them called out, "wanna take a picture with _me_?"

"Me, too," the other guy said. I didn't know a lot of students yet, and in the dim light of the lamps along the walkway, I didn't recognize them. "Or at least get me an autographed copy?"

"Preferably one in a skimpy, sexy outfit," the first guy said.

Verdant's scowl matched mine. "Knock it off, Applesauce."

"Appaloosa!" one of the guys snarled at her.

"Whatever. You two don't want me to let it be known that you're being an ass to one of Ayla's friends, do you?" Verdant said with a malicious grin.

Judging from the reaction of the two, they were intimidated by Ayla. I'd have to find out the backstory on that one when I got a chance.

"C'mon, Ferret," the one called Appaloosa said, "let's get back to Emerson before curfew. We've been in enough trouble with Tolliver already, and she's in a bitchy mood."

"We _still_ want autographed pictures," Ferret said over his shoulder, "showing _lots_ of skin!"

We walked past Melville before Verdant asked, "What was that all about?"

I shook my head. "I have _no_ idea. But it's not the first time." I noticed her teasing the one guy about his name. "What's with the mangled code name?"

Verdant chuckled. "Ayla started it, and it kind of caught on. It's a way of getting under the skin of the more obnoxious students."

* - * - * - * - *

Standing Rock Indian Reservation, South Dakota

"I _hate_ those things," Ernst muttered to no-one in particular as he walked away from the helicopter which had taken him, Hazel Two Bears, and Chris Patton, his research assistant, to the center of the reservation, where air service was sparse.

"Would you rather fly to Mobridge and drive an hour and a half," Hazel asked with a chuckle.

"I didn't even know there _was_ a town called Watauga," Ernst grumbled. "Why does this have to be in the middle of nowhere?"

"A shaman lives where a shaman lives," Hazel replied philosophically.

The helicopter, one of the South Dakota National Guard's Blackhawks, had set down on the edge of down, near a cluster of flashing police lights and roadblocks. The trio approached a line of yellow police tape that had cordoned off an area at least two hundred feet from the small dwelling.

A gruff-looking older tribal police officer intercepted the trio. "No-one is allowed in here," he warned. His gruff expression softened when he noticed Hazel.

Ernst pulled out his wallet and showed his HPARC ID card. "We're from the paranormal research center. We're expected."

The policeman nodded. "Okay." He was obviously a man of few words.

"What can you tell us about what happened here?" Hazel inquired.

"Some kind of wild animal attacked and killed Sam Blue Feather," the officer reported. "The person who discovered the attack flipped out shortly after she reported it, probably due to the ... mess ... she reported." An involuntary shudder coursed up and down his spine. "From what she described, there's not much left of him."

Hazel frowned. "Sam is ... was ... a shaman, correct?"

The officer nodded. "A pretty well-liked fellow around these parts. It's a shame this happened to him." He frowned. "Why did the tribal council order us to not enter the house, and why did they call you guys?"

Hazel sighed. "It wasn't a wild animal, I'm willing to bet." She began to chant a rhythmic song-like incantation, and when she finished, she grimaced. "Bad. There's residue of something that's Class X."

Ernst winced. "That's why you were told to stay away," he said to the officer. "Anything that's Class X can warp your mind, or your body. If you're lucky, it'd kill you outright." He looked at Hazel. "Can you ... protect us?"

She nodded, and opened her medicine pouch. Crushing a few chosen herbs while she chanted, she tossed the herbs in the air. A small downburst of air hit the three researchers and the officer, startling the policeman. "That'll give us about twenty minutes, give or take."

"Give or take how much?" Ernst asked with a frown.

"I wouldn't push past ten to twelve minutes," Hazel advised.

The trio entered the house, and immediately, Chris turned to empty his stomach. The room was a complete shambles, with blood and pieces of a body strewn about; there was precious little left to identify the victim.

"This has a similar feel," Hazel said, her eyes half-closed in concentration. "Like Mishibijiw, and the residue from the car wrecks."

"Is it like the house in Rapid City? And the campsite?"

Hazel nodded. "It is a familiar pattern. It feels like ... Unhcegila."

"That can't be!" Ernst snapped. "He's on ice in the lowest level."

"You might want to check on that," Hazel replied grimly. "But it could also be one of his spawn."

"His ... what?"

"Unhcegila has spawn that are somewhat like him in nature, fierce and ruthless and single-minded about sowing destruction and death."

"How many spawn might we have to deal with?"

Hazel thought a moment. "According to legend, usually three. Never four or more, and sometimes only two."

Ernst's eyes widened. "So ... the Mishibijiw in Erie ..."

"Could be another of his spawn, and we're dealing with two of them." Hazel sighed. "There's nothing to be found in here. Let's go back out."

With a huge sigh of relief, Chris and Ernst emerged from the bloodbath that was the inside of the house. "Now what?" Ernst asked Hazel.

"Now, we need to consult an expert."

"Charlie Lodgeman," Ernst said knowingly.

Hazel shook her head. "No. Not him."

"Then who?"

"The girl he spoke of, the one with the spirit," she lowered her voice, "of Ptesanwi. The girl who fought the Mishibijiw."

* - * - * - * - *

Friday, March 30, 2007
Crystal Hall

"I don't think we can get away with closed membership," Maggie, aka Lifeline, said. "I could ask Loophole; she'd be able to find the regulation in seconds."

"But ... I thought we were going to restrict membership to enrolled tribal members," Scott said. "That would ensure that our membership is interested in, and votes for, things that are pertinent to the Nations."

"I agree with Maggie," I said hesitantly. "We can't discriminate for general membership. But we _can_ create an executive council, and restrict officers, to those who _are_ enrolled members."

"We can?" Slapshot asked, astonished.

I nodded, and then turned my computer so they could see. "See here? In this charter, which we're using for a model, the European Promotional League restricts officers and even voting members to European students." I chuckled. "They don't even consider Brits to be European, so they don't get to vote or hold office either."

"I bet that's just fine with the Brits," Scott deadpanned.

"Okay, I think that'll work," Maggie said with a nod.

"How about a sponsor? Mr. Lodgeman?" Slapshot asked.

Maggie and I both nodded. "That makes sense if he'll do it. He should, though since he's already an unofficial advisor."

Maggie went further. "We should see if we can get a representative from the Medawihla tribe as a non-faculty sponsor as well."

Slapshot furrowed his brow. "Why?"

Scott grinned. "Because Hartford hates Mr. Lodgeman, but she won't dare oppose us if someone, like Mrs. Donner, was a local tribal sponsor since the school is on tribal land."

I sighed. "I met them the other night, but I've never heard of the Medawihla tribe."

Maggie grinned. "And there are probably a lot more tribes you've never heard of. Tribes that predate the Nations by a long time. The were tribes."

"Weres?" I shook my head. "You can't be serious."

"She is, and so am I," Scott said. "You met Mrs. Donner's daughters, Paige and Jo, the other night, too."

"Wait, you mean Paige is a were?"

"Yup," Maggie said. "She's a were-panther. Although she's just a cub right now, according to what I've heard."

"Hey, boyfriend," a voice purred from behind me. Across the table, Scott's eyes darted up, and then a big shit-eating grin formed. "Hey, Toni," he replied. "We were just working on a charter for our group."

"Boring," Chaka said as she slipped around the table and slid into Scott's lap. "I'd rather we took a little stroll before our next classes. It'd be a shame to waste such a beautiful day being cooped up with bureaucratic stuff."

Scott looked at us, torn between spending time with Chaka and our task of working on the charter.

"Go," Maggie said simply. "We've picked your brain so clean that there's nothing left."

"As long as you left his lips alone," Chaka said seductively to Scott.

I nodded. "Yeah. If you're distracted, you won't do any good. Besides, I think I've got enough to get a draft put together and get it out to you sometime tomorrow after my costuming class."

Maggie shook her head. "Let me do the draft. I'm not so busy with after-school classes and tutoring, and I can run this by Loophole to make sure we're not violating any school regs."

As Scott got up, with Chaka doing some impossible flip off his lap and ending up with her arm around his waist, I shook my head. "Is Loophole some kind of legal wiz?"

"You don't know how she got her codename, do you?" Maggie said with a smile.

"No."

"Mrs. Carson gave it to her," Maggie grinned, "because within her first few days as a freshman, she was quoting regulations to Mrs. Carson to get what she wanted."

I frowned. "The way everyone talks, she's like a goddess of the labs."

Maggie chuckled. "She's probably the best gadgeteer on campus. She figured out the computers and broke the simulators during the fall combat finals. Mrs. Carson was a little pissed. She invented the bullet-resistant fabric Kevra, she built a suit of powered armor for combat in a few days after she'd spent only a year designing it from scratch, she's already got a three patents, two of which are licensed and being marketed - yeah, she's pretty damned good."

My jaw muscles clenched as I thought about this girl Loophole. I _used to be_ the best in my school, but the way it sounded, despite being a certified math prodigy, I was merely average in comparison to this uber-genius who invented anything she thought of. Mouthing off to Mrs. Carson? Breaking the simulators? Inventing stuff, seemingly on a whim, and already holding a few marketed patents? And she was the 'power behind the throne' of the Alphas according to someone? If she was that good, I suspected that she was probably pretty full of herself, too. It wouldn't surprise me if someone like that ran around the labs telling everyone what they were doing wrong, probably with a smug, condescending, know-it-all smile on her face. I hated know-it-alls. The more I heard about Loophole, the more I didn't want anything to do with her. It was mostly due to never having had to deal with being second-best because of the small-town, limited environment I'd grown up in. With everything else that had happened, her reputation seemed to take away yet another thing that I'd excelled at, knocking my accomplishments down to mere 'so what' and hitting once more at my self-confidence and feeling of self-worth.

As I expected, the advanced martial arts class was an exercise in futility. At least in the morning class, I could spar against Alicia and Adalie, where I had a chance. Not so in fourth period; no matter what I tried, I couldn't come close to scoring a point against the girls who'd been selected to tutor and spar with me. Britomart was simply too good for me to have a chance against. Anna and her squirrel-like reflexes were too quick, and her jumping ability made it impossible for me to score against her. Belphoebe was worse, with her Drow exemplar-4 strength and super-enhanced reflexes; in a sparring match against her, I was lucky to last more than five seconds. Evvie, Kismet, Scrambler, Bova, and Flashbang were also on my list of 'tutors', and were impossible for me to spar with. Evvie was a brick, Scrambler, a speedster, Bova, another Drow, and the other girls were simply too practiced. They'd all had the fall term, a combat final, and many had taken other martial arts during the winter 'special topics' term. In comparison, I'd been learning martial arts for only a few weeks. The net result was that I was always humiliated in sparring sessions, even when the girls didn't use their powers. I also left every fourth period battered and bruised, both physically and emotionally, sometimes limping from minor injuries.

Like I did every day at the beginning and end of the class, I briefly wondered why I was subjecting myself to this type of physical and emotional punishment, but the memories of the attempt on my life were seared into my brain, and I knew - at least intellectually - that I _had_ to improve my self-defense skills.

French, Power Lab, and electronics were a nice chance for me to rest before I went to my third martial arts class of the day, my private tutoring with Mr. Two Knives. I know he'd chided me time and time again for not calling him by his first name, but it went against all the manners I'd learned over the years. He was an adult and a teacher, and thus was to be given respect.

The only thing odd about the day was that small annoying 'incidents' kept happening, enough that I was certain they weren't a coincidence. I tripped several times, even though there was nothing to trip on, including in the breakfast serving line, which resulted in a bit of a mess and several annoyed students upon whom part of my breakfast had landed. At the start of French class, I couldn't find my textbook, even though I was certain that I'd put it in my book bag. It was happening too often to be coincidence, and I began to suspect that the harassment campaign that had greeted my arrival here was back.

* - * - * - * - *

Laird Hall, before Dinner

"Attack again," Mr. Two Knives urged me. Unlike the senseis, he spoke respectfully instead of barking out orders.

"I'm exhausted," I complained, wearily holding the training knife. I was so fatigued that my arms naturally fell to my sides. "This is my third combat class of the day!"

"That doesn't matter to a warrior," he retorted sharply. "An enemy won't wait for you to be rested. If the enemy is smart, he will attack precisely when you're tired so he has an advantage. A warrior must _always_ be ready to fight. Now, attack again."

One of the reasons I was a little reluctant was that Mr. Two Knives was having me perform all sorts of attacks, including from behind an opponent. "It doesn't seem right," I had complained at first, "to practice sneak attacks."

"A warrior must use _every_ advantage he has," Mr. Two Knives had chided me. "What if there are three enemies in a group, and the only advantage you have is surprise - if you can keep it? A warrior would use stealth to improve the odds by quickly eliminating one opponent - and without compromising the element of surprise to the other two."

I hadn't been able to argue with his logic; I'd seen in my spirit-world battle with snakey and in the real-world with Mishibijiw that any surprise, no matter how small, threw off an enemy's plans. Evening the odds was a normal way to approach battle.

Using as much stealth as I could manage, I tiptoed across the mat toward the training dummy, but just before I grabbed him to slit his imaginary throat, I had a brief vision of attacking JJ, one of my former friends, a guy I'd grown up with until I manifested. The thought of slicing JJ's throat, despite what he'd done to me, completely rattled me. I collapsed into a sobbing heap on the mats, horrified by the thought of killing someone I'd been close to.

Mr. Two Knives squatted beside me. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"I ... I couldn't," I cried. "What if it was someone I knew? Like my friend? My former friend?"

"What if they were beating you again, with the intent of killing you?" he posited. "What would you do then?"

I looked up, into his eyes, and I saw flint, a hardness and resolve that I apparently lacked. I looked up again at the practice dummies, arrayed in a small cluster of four. The thought of them - attacking me a third time, and possibly more, sent shivers down my spine.

The blank, featureless faces melted and rearranged, becoming Scott and JJ and Rich and Shelly, all leering at me, all taunting me, their expressions evil. Around me was the night-time parking lot of the honey factory, my nightmare come to life - again. The guys were circling me as they taunted me. Scott's belt was unfastened, and he was unbuttoning his trousers. I screamed at what was going to happen - again.

I saw Scott's eyes looking down, toward my side, wide with surprise. I followed his gaze down, and saw that I was holding Wakan Mila, my sacred knife. Something inside me snapped. This time, it would be different. This time, I had Wakan Mila, and they weren't going to repeat the rape and beating, not if I could help it. All my anger burst out in an uncontrolled frenzy. I sprang from the ground, my knife already swinging upward, into Scott's abdomen. He looked down, shocked, as blood began to pour from the wound. I didn't wait to watch him fall; I turned, leaping onto the back of Rich, pulling his head backward as my knife sliced at his neck. A scream gurgled and died in his throat.

JJ had watched, and as the horror of the situation sank in, he backed away, afraid for his life for a change. "No," he pleaded, but my fury had made me quicker, and I jumped on him, sliding the blade between two ribs right into his heart. He hadn't even begun to fall when I leaped, twisting, to Shelly, the bitch queen who'd helped Scott beat and violate me.

"No, please!" she pleaded, but I stabbed at her, wounding her leg so she fell, Again and again, screaming in primal rage, I stabbed her, in her groin, in her abdomen, in her neck - all over, venting my fury at the beatings and rape at the now-helpless victim beneath me.

"Kayda!" a voice calling me over and over penetrated my nightmarish fog. Slowly, breathing hard, I realized that I wasn't in my hometown, I wasn't being assaulted all over again, I wasn't viciously turning the tables on my would-be attackers. I looked around, semi-dazed and found myself in a training gym, atop a training dummy, with a training knife in my hand.

"Kayda," Mr. Two Knives called sharply again, trying to get my attention.

"Uh," I stammered, looking up at him. "Yeah."

Mr. Two Knives looked at me with concern. "What happened?"

I slid off the training dummy to the floor, shocked that I'd had another PTSD event, and that this time, it had resulted in the raging attack it had. "I ... I don't know," I mumbled. "I ... I was ... back there ... and I saw the guys ... trying to ...." I dropped my head, wiping at my damp eyes, ashamed to look at my tutor and unable to continue my explanation.

"I think I understand," Mr. Two Knives said solemnly. "You have to keep your head during a fight, and it doesn't look like you did today."

"I know," I said, ashamed. "I ... I don't know ...."

"Mrs. Carson told me you have frequent meetings with your counselor because of what happened," Mr. Two Knives said. "You need to keep going to those sessions so that you can stay in control."

"That's easy for you to say," I cried, my dammed-up emotions bursting forth. "You haven't been through what I have!" I let my head fall into my hands as I started crying like a baby.

Mr. Two Knives squatted down beside me and put his hand on my shoulders. "No, Kayda, I haven't." with his free hand, he unbuttoned his shirt as I looked at him, both puzzled and afraid. "I've been through my own hell," he said as he exposed some horrific scarring on one side of his torso. "First Gulf War." His eyes looked far away, as if he was seeing something that wasn't there. "My squad got hit. Hard. Only two of us ...." I could see his jaw trembling, and the battle within was reflected in his eyes as he fought his own demons. After a bit, he began buttoning his shirt as he gave a single, soft snort, which I guessed was because he was angry at letting those emotions surface. "I know PTSD."

"How ... how do you deal with it?" I asked hesitantly.

Mr. Two Knives chuckled. "You master your pain," he said, "so it doesn't master you." He looked at me with wizened eyes. "You're a shaman. You're the Ptesanwi. Surely Wakan Tanka is teaching you these things."

I nodded, dropping my gaze. I honestly didn't know, at that point, whether Wakan Tanka and Tatanka had helped me more than Dr. Bellows or not. "Tatanka has me learning from the animal spirits, and Wakan Tanka has been teaching me ...." My voice trailed off as something occurred to me that hadn't before. "She's teaching me healing magic first."

"Healing the body, or the mind?"

I started at his question, and realization dawned on me. "Both."

"Rest is over," he declared, springing to his feet. "Time to get back to work."

"But ... my episode ...."

"You must learn to master it ..."

"So it doesn't master me," I concluded his saying.

We worked more with the knife, and then with a tomahawk. Though he was extremely critical of my every move, correcting me and having me repeat the motions again and again, I could see in his eyes that he thought I was making progress. I felt a little satisfaction in that; he wasn't being spiteful or nasty like Ito was, or at least seemed to be, but was guiding me without being arrogant, cocksure, or sarcastic.

"Enough with the weapons for tonight," he finally said. "Even a warrior in training needs time to relax and unwind with friends."

"Okay," I agreed. I hadn't realized how long I'd been training until I looked at the clock, which showed that it would be dinnertime in less than an hour.

"Let's do one more brief exercise." He pulled out a handkerchief, which he quickly folded and put on himself as a blindfold. "I want you to sneak up on me."

I frowned. "You're serious?"

"Yes. Do anything you want, to sneak up on me and touch me."

I slipped off my moccasins, and padding softly, as gently as I could, trying to use what I'd learned from Ithunkasan, the weasel, I crept toward Mr. Two Knives. He stood perfectly still, and just as I was about to poke him with my finger, he spun, raised an arm, and blocked my move.

"Again." A second time, I crept toward him, trying even harder to be stealthy, but just as I was about to softly kick his leg, he danced out of the way.

"Again." This time, I wasn't going to fail. I quickly chanted my ghost-walking spell to hide myself, and then circled him slowly in a tightening spiral, watching for any clue that he knew where I was. He stood perfectly still though, his head tilted slightly to one side, and once more, just before I touched him, he ducked out of the way.

"How can you do that?" I asked, astonished. "I ... I was using my ghost-walking spell."

Mr. Two Knives smiled. "You should know that. I'm well trained. I hear and feel everything - a disturbance in the breeze, the slightest noise. And like Igmu Taka, I feel disturbances to the earth spirit."

He slipped off the blindfold and extended it to me. "Your turn."

"What?"

"As shaman, as Ptesanwi, you should be much better than I. You touch the spirits of the wind and the earth in ways I can't. You should _never_ be surprised."

"Ceta, na Hoka," I said, suddenly realizing how his lessons connected with the lessons Tatanka had been supervising.

Mr. Two Knives smiled. "Yes. Feel the wind spirit as Ceta does. Touch the earth spirit as Hoka must."

Reluctantly, I tied the blindfold over my eyes. With that sense masked, I focused on my other senses - my hearing, my sense of touch. More than that, I reached out to the earth and sky spirits, to feel them.

A sharp poke of a finger on my arm shattered my attempted focus. "Ow!"

"Again," he directed. I focused again, concentrating on my senses and the spirits, and heard and sensed nothing until my feet were swept from beneath me and I fell to the mat.

"Don't think," Mr. Two Knives admonished me. "Feel."

"This isn't the damned Force!" I snapped at him in my frustration.

He chuckled. "No, but it's an appropriate metaphor. Don't try to think. Feel. Now, let's try again."

It took three more tries, but I finally sensed enough that I was able to move away from where he was, even though he was circling me in random directions. When he tried to touch me, I could almost see his arm moving, and I managed to block it a little, so the poke was a glancing touch.

"Ha!" I said in triumph, just before a slap painfully hit my other arm. "Ow!"

"A warrior _never_ celebrates in battle," he chastised me. "You were thinking of your success, and you lost focus." He tugged the blindfold off my head. "You're making progress, but you need to practice. You need to pay attention to what's around you, to the sounds and ...."

"Itukala," I said, nodding. "He listens and feels what's around him so he's not surprised."

My tutor grinned. "Precisely. As you go about your day, spend time feeling the spirits, and do as Itukala does - listen and see and smell and feel _everything_ around you."

* - * - * - * - *

Saturday, March 31, 2007
Kane Hall

"No, I'm sorry," I apologized, red-faced, to Mrs. Ryan, "but with my class load and the extra tutoring, I didn't get all of my homework done."

Mrs. Ryan frowned at me. "There is no class next Saturday, Kayda, and you started late. Are you going to be able to complete this course?"

I sank down in my chair, feeling shamed. So far, the morning was a disaster. I was late waking up and barely had time to take a shower before I had to run to class, skipping breakfast - all the while knowing that I was going to be in trouble for not getting last week's homework done, let alone that which I was still behind in. "I can't go home for spring break," I muttered, knowing that many other students were staring at me, "so I'll use that time to catch up - in all my classes."

"What _did_ you get done?" Mrs. Ryan asked, her tone changing slightly from stern taskmistress.

"I got a few ideas from the Internet," I said, turning my laptop so she could see as I opened the pictures that I'd found. Most were variations on a basic buckskin dress, but a few were in blue or white leather, with knee-length skirt. There were a few arm and wrist bracers that were ornamented with beadwork and semi-precious stones as well, plus a few headbands, belts, and chokers. With the dresses, I had over-the-calf moccasins, but in one outfit, I had a mini-length buckskin dress with matching pants, again ornamented with beadwork. I had another file of accessories, from chest plates to bracelets and necklaces.

"What do you see as problems with these?" Mrs. Ryan asked, pointing at two of the dresses.

I winced, knowing immediately what she was looking at. "The neckline on that one is too low, and there's nothing covering the arms. And on that one," I pointed at the second dress, "the skirt might be too long."

"Correct," Mrs. Ryan said, sounding pleased that I'd noted the flaws. "There's a reason that miniskirts are so popular with heroes, because they aren't constraining."

"But I'm not going to be a hero," I protested.

"Perhaps not, but you _will_ have combat finals, and no doubt you'll be on a training team, so you'll need a suitable costume," she said, smiling wryly. "And when you go home, it will probably be expected of you to be in a suitable costume, true?"

My jaw dropped. "How ...," I stammered. Unless Mrs. Carson talked, how would Mrs. Ryan know about my spirit.

She leaned a little closer. "When the administration signed you up for this class," she whispered, "they let me know that you have a very important role in the Lakota tribes. It was suggested strongly that I help you find something suitable - and protective."

"Oh." I hoped that she didn't know of my spirits; the fewer people who knew that I had the spirit of Ptesanwi, the safer I'd probably be.

"I like the ones with the beadwork," she continued. "It's laced together, and can have some armor value."

"Like chainmail?"

"Exactly. Now on these designs that you've looked at, you could overcome the weakness in protection by wearing a skin-toned Kevra bodysuit, which would give you the protection you wouldn't have."

"A body suit?" I was flabbergasted. "Like ... tights? Or nylons?"

"Yes," Mrs. Ryan said. "With a dress, your legs are unprotected. Unless you have a long-sleeved top with a high neckline, you have too many unprotected, vulnerable areas. All of that can be overcome with a Kevra body stocking."

"Then ... why would I want extra weight? Wouldn't it be too hot?"

"It's been my observation that being hot is better than being dead," Mrs. Ryan deadpanned. "And Kevra is such a stretchable fabric that a bodysuit will be skin tight and barely noticeable." She smiled. "We're lucky that Loophole's patent agreement let us buy it at cost; otherwise, many of our students couldn't afford to use it for their costumes." It was obvious she was proud of the fact that a Whateley student had developed the product.

My jaw clenched involuntarily when she mentioned the Goddess Queen of the Labs, Loophole. As if it wasn't bad enough to be considered second-rate compared to her, now Mrs. Ryan expected me to be beholden to her for her miracle-fabric invention? "Uh, I don't have to pick a fabric yet, do I?" I stammered.

"No," Mrs. Ryan confirmed. "You don't have enough of a design figured out to commit to a fabric. But I have to say that Kevra would be a good choice, based on the troubles you've already found yourself in. Now, have you thought about headgear?"

I frowned. "There are a few options I've found." On my computer, I opened a file that was a collage of a number of pictures of different headgear.

"Hmmm," she said to herself. "The war bonnet is traditional and pretty distinctive."

"No," I replied. "It's traditionally reserved for chiefs, and I'm not one. Nor do I plan to be one. Besides, it'd be pretty impractical for fighting."

"True."

"I was looking at the headpieces with the bear theme, the bison theme, and even the cougar theme. Kind of like a helmet that would give an animal impression and hide my upper face, just like the book says is required."

"Do you want my opinion about what would fit you best?" Mrs. Ryan asked. When I nodded, she continued. "Your hair is so pretty, especially if you have it braided with Lakota-themed accessories. It'd be a shame to cover it up. You should go with a domino mask, with appropriate beadwork and such."

I frowned. "Not a lot of protective value there, is there?"

Mrs. Ryan shrugged. "What most students fail to consider when they design a head-covering is that any projectile impact with kinetic energy more than half of the stopping power of Kevra is going to result in a very serious, brain-scrambling concussion and probable unconsciousness, to say the least. The head is the hardest thing to protect, outside a full helmet in an armored suit, but an armored helmet, like most headpieces, also restricts one's freedom of head motion and interferes with some senses, and those factors are vital to combat situations."

I sighed. "I still don't know why I'm here. I didn't want this course, and I don't think I need it."

Mrs. Ryan smirked. "You'll have to take that up with the administration. I'm just a humble teacher who instructs those who are enrolled." She gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Before next Friday, I want to see at least three of these concepts refined and modeled in the graphics program."

"Yes, ma'am," I answered unenthusiastically. At least I had two more hours of class time to work on the project.

* - * - * - * - *

Poe Cottage, mid-afternoon

Lunch gave me no rest; I had to go to Laird with Mr. Two Knives for more practice, and as usual, he was pretty thorough in his tutoring. Mostly, I worked with the knife and Krav Maga; all the work in Basic Martial Arts and 4th period Aikido seemed to help with the hand-to-hand instruction. I was quick to notice the differences between the martial art forms - in particular, Krav Maga was much quicker and more ruthless than what we were learning in regular classes. Given its history, I wasn't surprised.

Still sweaty, I flopped heavily on my bed. "I thought weekends were for resting, not for non-stop school!" I grumbled.

Evvie chuckled. "That's not my fault. You need to take that up with the administration."

"With the tutoring, I effectively have nine classes this term. Nine!" I shook my head wearily. "I must be freakin' insane!"

"No more so than Ayla," Evvie laughed. "Did you know that last term, Ayla took business accounting two, three, _and_ four? And after acing business accounting one in the fall, he was teaching assistant? On top of regular classes and a Saturday class?"

"Ayla's fucking nuts," I mumbled. "Type A double-plus personality. Ayla probably won't stop working this hard until six months after he's in a grave."

Evvie laughed. "Yeah. I guess that's how come he's successful."

"That and being fortunate enough to be born to rich parents," I added.

"That's not it," Evvie chuckled. "He lost everything, and then earned back a small fortune." I gave her an odd look. "Okay, a rather large fortune. But it's because of hard work, not being born lucky."

"Yeah, and I shouldn't talk, either," I said contritely.

"Oh?" Evvie turned her head at the sound of the knock on our door. "Come in."

Naomi came in, sitting down on Evvie's bed. "What's up?"

"We were just talking about rich kids," Evvie said with a grin.

"Oh. Ayla again?"

"Yeah," I said, not bothering to move my head, or even my eyes, to look at her. I was too tired to waste the energy.

"And you were saying something about how you shouldn't talk?" Evvie prompted.

I sighed. "I never knew how much my family was worth until Mom told the Sioux Falls League."

"And how much is that?"

"My parents own a farm implement dealership, a few thousand acres of good farm land, an agricultural trucking business, and a cattle feed-lot. Plus investments they've made over the years." My pause to take a deep breath must have seemed like a dramatic pause, but it was only because I yawned. "Somewhere north of a hundred mil."

I could practically hear Evvie's eyes bugging out, just like in the cartoons. "A hundred million?"

I nodded very slightly, feeling my neck muscles ache with the effort. "Yeah."

"Girl, you're buying pizza and movie tickets tonight," Naomi said with a grin.

"I'm not going to the movie," I replied. "All I want to do is rest. And if knew I where one was, I'd take a nice long soak in a hot tub."

There was silence in reply to my comment, so I tilted my head up, with some neck discomfort, to look at Evvie and Naomi. They were looking at each other with strange expressions. "What?" I asked.

I saw Naomi shake her head almost imperceptibly. "What?" I repeated. A moment later, the answer dawned on me. "The hot-tub that Rosalyn keeps talking about - that's not just for that party she keeps talking about, is it?"

Evvie winced, and Naomi positively grimaced. "No. It's open for general use - if you know about it," Naomi admitted after an awkward moment.

"Where is it?" I asked eagerly. "I want, no I _need_ to soak for a bit."

"It's not ... in Poe," Naomi said slowly. "It was a special Poe class project many years ago."

"Can I use it to soak?"

Evvie exchanged another glance with Naomi. "I'll check to see if anyone from Boys-town is using it. If not, we might be able to use it."

"We?"

"Yeah," Naomi grinned. "If you're going for a soak in the hot tub, we might as well go, too."

I felt my eyes widen. "Okay," I said hesitantly. "But no-one else, okay?"

Evvie laughed. "That's going to depend on whether someone else had the same idea."

I stared at her for a second or two. "Just my luck, Rosalyn will be there." Naomi and Evvie exchanged a glance, and then started to snicker. "Not funny!" I protested.

"Yes, it is," Naomi said with a grin.

I sighed. In a way, they were right; if it wasn't me being tormented by Rosalyn, I'd have found the situation hilarious. "Are you going to take me?"

"Sure," Evvie said. "Best thing is to put on a pair of sweats - with nothing underneath."

"Nothing?!?"

"You don't think we use the hot tub with clothes on, do you?" Naomi asked with a grin.

"Besides, you've seen all of us - or most of us - in the showers," Evvie added.

"Okay," I said reluctantly. "But if Rosalyn shows up, you two better not laugh!"

"Can't promise that," Evvie chortled.

Naomi went upstairs to change, while Evvie and I pulled on sweat suits and grabbed towels. We met Naomi downstairs by the back entrance, and with me looking around nervously, paranoid that every girl I saw knew what we were up to, we walked in the direction of Hawthorne, and only ten or twelve yards from Poe, Evvie and Naomi checked that no-one was nearby or looking, and then Naomi led us off the main walkway onto a well-disguised path through the underbrush and landscaping. We went deep into the trees, until we came to a large stump, the tall remains of a once-mighty oak tree. Glancing around again, Naomi pressed in a knothole, and a part of the stump swung inward like a door.

"Don't worry," Naomi said. "It's a biometric lock, and when it's in use by the girls, the boys are locked out and vice-versa."

That statement put my mind at ease - a little. There were still potentially other girls to deal with, and for some reason, this felt more intrusive than the communal showers, even with Ayla and Vamp there. If there were older girls, they wouldn't have seen me nude, and they might be attracted to me. That thought scared me, even though it was irrational.

We descended a wooden ladder into a large limestone grotto, with amber and golden illumination on stalactites, while recesses and benches were spotlighted with soft green glows. Three girls were in one of the three pools already, and they smiled at us as the door above closed again. The pools were marvels; they were sunken into the floor, with only a small rim, so that there was an illusion of walking straight from the grotto floor down into the pools as if they were natural low-spots in the cave floor, albeit pools with blue lighting from below the surface,

"Put your things in one of the nooks," Naomi directed as she began to shamelessly strip. Evvie did the same, and reluctantly, I did the same, feeling rather self-conscious as the girls seemed to be looking at me.

I recognized them, but not from my floor. All were at least sophomores. I recognized Angel instantly; it would have been difficult _not_ to recognize her. Besides being very pretty, her wings were a dead give-away. In my opinion they made her look even more angelically beautiful. I was puzzled, though, what a soaking in a hot-tub would to do her pretty wings. Troika and Selkie were the other two in the pool, Selkie being notable by her fey-like appearance. Troika I'd seen around, but I didn't know her as well, and since I knew all of the changelings, she had to be one of the many lesbians.

I gulped at the stares of admiration directed my way. Following Evvie and Naomi, who had no problems displaying their sexy bodies in front of other girls, I nervously stepped down into the pool and sat down on a built-in bench, hiding most of my body from the gazes I'd been receiving.

The contented sigh would have escaped my lips even if I'd been trying to be silent; the warm water bathed and massaged my tired muscles in a way the shower never could.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Naomi asked with a grin.

"Is this a natural cavern?" I asked.

Angel laughed softly, a sweet, mellifluous sound instead of mocking chuckle. "No. This is the legacy of the class of '83. It's reinforced concrete with limestone over it. The water is filtered and heated and completely changed out every few hours. On top of that, some of our mages and devisors put in wards and guards and anti-snooping technology, so it's safe from prying eyes."

It felt like I was almost floating in the warm pool, my cares washing away from me as the heat soaked into my tired body.

"Careful," Selkie said, almost startling me. "You look like you're about to fall asleep in here."

It was my turn to chuckle. "I had a hard day training with my tutor, after getting up early for my Saturday morning costuming class."

"Tutor?" Troika asked curiously.

"She has a Native American warrior teaching her traditional fighting skills," Naomi answered before I could. "From what I saw the other night, he's even more of a taskmaster than Ito."

"That's not possible," Angel scoffed. "Ito is the most demanding teacher on staff."

"Except Gunny Bardue," Selkie chimed in. "He's impossible to satisfy."

"True," Angel, Naomi, and Troika nodded together.

Selkie noticed my look of confusion. "Gunny is an ex-marine, and you don't get to use the simulators or ranges unless he's satisfied that you're not a screw-up."

"Since the ... incident ... last week," I said softly, "the administration wants me to get up to speed on martial arts as quickly as possible. I'm in basic martial arts in the morning, and after lunch, I'm training in the advanced aikido class. And they're going to get me qualified on the range so I can carry, too. So I have to deal with Ito twice daily, and it sounds like I'll get to meet Bardue soon, too."

"That sounded horrible!" Angel said, wincing. "Was it really as bad as everyone was saying? A guard tried to kill you?"

I leaned back, closing my eyes. "Yeah," I answered. "He damned near succeeded, too." I sighed heavily. "I hope I don't have to deal with the demon-spirit that possessed him for a _long_ time."

"Pretty nasty?" Selkie asked, her interest piqued.

"Yeah. That's the third time I've had to deal with him. He fought me and Debra ..."

"Cornflower," Angel chimed in so the girls knew who I was talking about. "Kayda's girlfriend." That got 'oohs' of appreciation from Selkie and Troika.

"Yeah. We fought him in the spirit world, and then he possessed an Iroquois water panther that attacked me, and then he possessed the guard."

"Wow! How'd you get him for an enemy?" Troika questioned.

I shook my head softly. "I inherited him when I got my spirit," I said. "His father is apparently an ancient enemy of my spirit, so ...."

"His ... dad? You mean you were fighting ...?"

"Just his offspring," I finished Angel's question. "Yeah. I'm glad I didn't fight big daddy snake demon."

Angel reached out and held my hand. "As long as you're in Poe," she said reassuringly, "we'll all help you, because Poesies watch out for each other."

"Thanks," I said. "I appreciate that. But I need you guys to promise that if I do have to fight him, you'll stay out of reach, and especially don't lock eyes with him." I saw their eyes all widen, including Evvie and Naomi. "He's a class X thing, and from what I've been told, merely looking into his eyes can drive a person insane."

I felt the atmosphere grow heavy with that line of conversation, so I decided to change the topic. "This is so relaxing. I feel like my cares are floating away. It's certainly better than being clubbed with training knives and tomahawks."

"Yeah, well, I think that the fighting instructors have a bet to see who can make the most students sore in a day," Troika laughed. "Lord knows, Ito sure makes everyone suffer."

"He's got to have the record for number of injured students in a term," Angel added with a giggle. "I've heard the others keep trying to break his record, but every time someone comes close, he steps it up a notch and keeps the record safely in his hands." We all laughed at that.

We talked a lot about classes and such, and the girls were interested in my Lakota heritage. Time passed more quickly than I'd expected because of the fun conversation, and it was soon time to get out and dry off so we could go to dinner. I'd half expected to see serious hanky-panky in the hot tub while we were there, but it was a friendly gathering of girls; Evvie and Naomi only held hands as they relaxed, which surprised me a bit.

The other girls climbed out of the pool first, and I found myself staring at them a little jealously, which surprised me. Angel was a beauty, head to toe. Selkie was exotically attractive and alluring. Troika had an assured self-confidence that announced that she was beautiful and knew it. Compared to them, I was shy, and I slunk out of the pool to my things. I went to my clothes, and as I dried off, I noticed that there weren't any sounds of motion. I turned to find all the girls staring at me. "What?" I asked, feeling even more self-conscious.

"I hope you don't think I'm being forward," Angel said, "but you're really, really beautiful."

"And sexy," Selkie added softly.

In the colorful, soft lighting of the cavern, they couldn't see my cheeks flushing beet-red, but I could feel them burning.

"No wonder Rosalyn keeps talking about you," Troika added.

"Oh? She's ... talking about me?" I stammered.

"Yeah," Angel replied. "I think you really caught her eye, from the way she talks."

"Yeah," Selkie added with a chuckle. "I've never seen her so focused on one girl before. She's always been pretty carefree, and hasn't ever seemed so ... intent."

"Damn," I swore softly. "I don't want her paying attention to me. I'm ... I'm spoken for."

"Yeah, we know. Even Rosalyn knows about Cornflower, but she still seems to be hung up on you for some reason," Selkie said. "Everyone in the cottage knows that."

"Well _I_ didn't know it!" I protested. "Shit," I muttered, mostly to myself. "What am I going to do?"

"You could always get Debra to ride to your rescue and fight for your hand," Evvie laughed.

Angel shook her head, wincing. "I don't think that'd be a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because last year, she and Rosalyn were pretty ... close."

"Yeah," Troika added, nodding. "And a little ... adventurous. With your luck, if you tried to get Debra to help you, Rosalyn would probably get her to persuade you into a menage a trois!"

"Oh, shit!" I swore as the other girls giggled.

We got dressed and walked back to Poe together. Just after we rejoined the main path, I saw someone coming out of the back entrance that made me wince.

"Hi, girls," Rosalyn greeted us cheerfully, smiling especially at me it seemed. "How was the water?" She had an almost predatory expression when she was looking at me..

"Pretty relaxing," Evvie answered, covering for me.

"Glad you enjoyed it." She stepped to one side of the path so we could walk past, and as I passed her, she wiggled her eyebrows at me. "Now that you know how nice the hot tub is," she said seductively, "and you've had a little experience socializing au natural, it'll be a lot easier for you to find when we have the party after spring break. I'm looking forward to _seeing_ you there."

My jaw dropped open at her more-than-slightly-suggestive comment, while the other girls giggled at my predicament. "I am so in trouble with this, aren't I?" I asked.

* - * - * - * - *

Dunwich, NH - evening

"Rosalyn really wanted you to go to the movie night," Evvie teased me in the bathroom of the pizza place. The Poe trio - Evvie, Naomi, and I - had left Laurie doing some face-sucking with Adrian, while Vasiliy was trying to impress Chat Bleu. The fact that she'd come along meant that he must be making _some_ progress."

"Very not funny," I said with a scowl.

"Well, it's true," Naomi said. "She didn't show it much, because she's pretty schooled in not showing her emotions unless she wants, but I could tell she was a little bit disappointed."

"Have I got my own private stalker now?" I asked sarcastically. "Because I _so_ do not need that kind of aggravation."

"Well, you better figure out what you're going to do before the hot tub party the second Wednesday after spring break," Evvie cautioned me. "Because I _know_ she's going to expect you to be there."

"Why did they have to schedule it on my birthday?" I complained. "If it was a couple of days earlier, I could use my age to keep her friskiness down, since I'd be below the age of consent."

"Does Rosalyn know it's your birthday?"

I sighed. "I'm pretty sure. I heard that the party got moved back a week, probably just because it'll be my birthday." I started to wash my hands. "Can we please talk about something besides Rosalyn?"

"I'm glad the Kimbas aren't here. They're trouble magnets," Evvie commented. "When they got on the shuttle, my first thought was, 'oh, crap - what kind of mess are they going to stir up this time?'"

"I'm glad they got Nikki out of her room," I countered. "She's pretty deeply depressed, and she needs some cheering up." I sighed again. "To be honest, I'm pretty worried about her." It had been very depressing to me to watch Nikki go through her loss, and the emotional anguish that accompanied it. For a few days, she was acting like Aunghadhail had simply gotten lost, and she was desperately trying to find her spirit. It was heartbreaking to watch and listen to. She still occasionally regressed into the denial state, where she was looking desperately for Aunghadhail. I don't know if she accepted that Aung was dead, but I could tell the times she seemed to realize that the Sidhe queen's spirit wasn't coming back; Nikki's mood had shifted from seeming lost to hopeless despair. I _wanted_ to help, but I didn't know what to do. Besides, she had her team-mates, who'd been friends a lot longer than I had.

"Yeah, the whole floor is," Evvie said softly. "She hasn't smiled in over a week. But what can we do?"

"Can't your spirit, like, talk to her?" Naomi suggested hesitantly.

"I don't dare," I replied, shaking my head. "The spirit I channel knew Aunghadhail. I'm afraid that if _I_ tried to help Nikki, it'd just be a painful reminder to her."

"Too bad you can't slip her some of your special tea," Evvie suggested. "That might help her calm down a bit, and maybe start to snap out of her depression."

"If Dr. Bellows isn't having much luck helping her," I countered, "then what could I do? Besides, she's got her friends with her almost around the clock."

"I noticed," Evvie said. "Toni and Jade looked like they were ready to kill anyone who upset Nikki, and Ayla is, well, being Ayla - watching carefully to see if there's anything he can do to help."

"We better go back to the table before Vasiliy does something stupid and causes a scene," I said.

We walked back to the seating area, and noted that more Whateley kids had come to town. Frankly, given the troubles I'd had, I was surprised that the administration let me off campus. Either they were confident that I could take care of myself, or there'd been an administrative oversight and they hadn't gotten my name on a 'confined to barracks' list.

"Hi, Kayda," Anna said enthusiastically, waving at me. Damned, but I wish I could distill the essence of what made her so maddeningly cheerful all the time. It'd dominate the anti-depressant market.

"Hi," I said, detouring slightly. I noticed immediately that she was with a boy - probably the one she'd called Jerry, or Hazmat, during our sparring and locker-room chat.

"This is Jerry, my boyfriend," Anna said softly, as if announcing it to the world would jinx her.

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

Jerry rose to his feet and shook my hand graciously. "Anna has been talking about you. Is it true you can talk to spirits?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, but only the Lakota spirits," I said.

"And Kayda told me that the squirrel spirit and animal totem is considered very important in her culture," Anna added, almost giddy with happiness and what I'd told her about Zica.

"I don't want to hold you two up," I said to excuse myself. "My group is waiting to finish pizza so we can get to a movie." I glanced, and then giggled. "Actually, they're waiting for me to _pay_ for the pizza so we can go to a movie." I smiled at Jerry, but not in a way that might be interpreted as suggestive or predatory. "It's nice to meet you, Jerry. In the short time I've known Anna, she talks about you a lot, so you must have made quite an impression on her."

Jerry blushed. "She's pretty special. I'm lucky she thinks I'm worth dating."

"Have fun, and I'll see you in class on Monday," I told Anna before going back to my own table.

As we walked from the pizza shop toward the theater, I suddenly stopped, so abruptly that Vasiliy and Chat Bleu ran into my back. Something didn't feel right, and I started looking around.

"What?" Evvie asked, starting to look around also.

I shook my head. "Something is wrong. It's like ...." I thought a moment. "It feels like Ptan and her pup - they're in trouble!" I looked around, trying to use my spirit senses and my normal ones at the same time. "It's ... over there," I said, pointing down a side street.

"I don't know about this," Naomi said cautiously.

"Yeah. Just come on," Laurie said, shuddering visibly at the thought of leaving the main street area.

"No, it's Ptan," I said again. I turned without waiting for them and began to walk softly down the side street. In a moment, I sensed the others following me, reluctantly based on their whispered comments. "Ptan?" I called out softly. "Ptan? Is something wrong?" I knew the others wouldn't understand Lakota, but Ptan would.

The tail that smashed into the group, scattering us like bowling pins, came unexpectedly and from nowhere. I hit the side of a building, and my left forearm exploded in pain. I dragged myself back to my feet and instantly called up my shield.

That move was just in time - it stopped the black snake-like creature from sinking his claws and scimitar-like teeth into my body; I shivered to think that if I hadn't invoked that shield spell so quickly, I would have been killed instantly.

"So, Wihakayda," the snake demon hissed at me, "you come to me and save me the trouble of figuring out how to get to you. I knew if I was patient long enough, you'd leave the protection of that school of yours. I didn't expect it to be so soon. And you're so easy to trick - I have to help poor little Ptan!"

Wakan Mila was in my hand, and I quickly pushed essence into the blade. "Evvie?" I called out to my roommate. "Are you guys okay?"

If they answered, I didn't hear, because I was suddenly very busy with a vicious black snake-demon. He snapped his tail around like a whip, and it sent my shield - with me inside - careening across the street like a billiard ball. I was momentarily stunned by being tossed and turned so violently, and as I tried to reorient myself, I accidentally let my shield slip.

Old snake-face saw the opening, and he lunged, using his snake body like a spring to propel him across the gap toward me, his claw-tipped arms extended to grasp or impale me, and a mouthful of short swords prepared to shred my body.

I ducked, feinting to one side, which caused him to twist his body to match my move. Instead, I dropped and rolled the other direction, swinging my knife toward his body as he went over me and feeling the blade connect with some part of his body. There was a nearly-deafening roar of anger and pain from the snake-demon, and as soon as he could halt his momentum, he turned and lunged at me again. I knew that he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I was momentarily paralyzed with fright at the sight of his terrifying face coming at me, and when I forced myself to focus, I realized with sickening certainty that I didn't have enough time to get my shield spell activated.

His gaping maw came at me, seemingly in slow motion, and I knew that I was going to die. I started to lift Wakan Mila, but he was moving incredibly quickly. The ugly face of the snake demon swelled until it nearly filled my vision. Death was coming to meet me, and I felt helpless, trying hard to shake the cobwebs from my brain before it was too late.

There was a motion in my peripheral vision, and then someone was between me and snakey. His awful mouth clamped down on something, and stopped.

"Evvie, don't look at it," I screamed when I realized what my roommate had done. She was counting on her PK field to protect her - and me - from the snake demon.

With the merest thought, Tatanka manifested, and the white buffalo glared angrily at the son of Unhcegila, while he lunged at the beast.

Another scream of agony sounded from the creature as one of Tatanka's horns tore into it, but the snake demon was tough, and he clawed back at Tatanka. The razor-sharp slashes across my buffalo friend's back stung me as well, staggering me.

Snakey was hurt, and he pulled back into a coil, glaring at me. A split-second later, my head felt like it was exploding; he was using the same psychic attack on me that he'd used in our dream-world battle. I struggled against the psychically-induced dizziness and pain to recite the spell for a psychic shield, but the attack was too ferocious. I heard cries of pain behind me, and I knew that my friends were under siege as well.

Though Tatanka had hurt Snakey, I needed him more inside my brain to shield me from the psychic attack. It was a tradeoff I hated to make, but snake-face had left me no choice. Tatanka vanished from the darkened street, and instantly, the induced brain fog and pain vanished.

The demon glared at me, and then looked toward my friends, who were still reeling from the psychic attack. With another glance at me, he turned and lunged toward them, toward where Laurie squatted beside Chat Bleu, where she'd been obviously trying to help the girl. I screamed in frustration, swearing mightily in Lakota, as I dashed toward my friends, in an effort to protect them.

The snake-demon was clever; as I sped toward my friends, distracted, he whipped his tail around again, catching me in the back and knocking me forward, where his claws raked at my body. I rolled, and as I did so, I slashed upward with my knife, feeling the blade impacting some part of the demon. He roared again, and his tail whipped once more, knocking me away from him.

I hit a building hard, and I felt pain radiate from all over in my body. Pushing myself away from where I'd hit so I wouldn't be a vulnerable target, I rolled, and as I did so, I realized that I'd dropped my knife, the only weapon I had which could hurt old snakey.

Adrian, bless his heart, lived up to his code-name Harrier, flying skyward and darting toward the snake demon in an attempt to distract him away from me. As soon as I realized what he was doing, though, I screamed at him, "No, Adrian." He kept buzzing the creature, and old snakey kept slapping his enormous tail and swiping his claws at the sky in an attempt to swap the buzzing little pest. "Don't look at him!" I cried, hoping he heard me and would avoid the creature's gaze. Otherwise ....

As I pulled myself to my feet, Evvie rushed to my side, so her PK shield could help protect me. In the middle of the street, Naomi darted under the upraised snake-demon's body. "No!" Evvie and I screamed together.

Realizing that Adrian was only a distraction, Snakey turned his attention back to me. There was a glint of reflected light giving away movement of his ivory-black tail, and then it was right there, in front of me, about to smash into me yet again. I was smacked against the wall, but Evvie had come to my side, and her PK shell didn't bend under the impact, which left a small space in which I was protected. If not for her, I'd probably have been killed by that blow.

Naomi darted away from Laurie and Chat Bleu, toward Snakey. He was too busy focusing on me to notice her. She bent over, scooping up something, and then she yelled, "Kayda! Catch!"

That got Snakey's attention. Turning to the noise, he must have seen the knife, because he lunged at Naomi, just as she threw the knife toward me. Snakey grabbed at it with his clawed hands, twisting unnaturally but stymied by the momentum he'd put into his motion toward Naomi, and so he missed. Angry, he looked at me, then at Naomi, undecided of his course of action, but only momentarily. Since Naomi had tried to help me, and he'd been moving that way, he must have decided to punish her first before he finished me off. There was no doubt in my mind that if he killed me, Snake-face was going to kill _all_ of my friends.

Evvie noticed snakey's attention to her lover, and screamed. She - and everyone else - was too far away to help, though. By helping to give me a chance, Naomi had forfeited her life. Snarling, snakey lunged to kill her.

* - * - * - * - *

Outside the Dunwich Movie Theater
Gloriana

Pendragon was reaching for his wallet to pay for tickets for himself and Gloriana when he heard the unnatural roaring and screaming a couple of blocks away. Everyone turned, mesmerized by the sound, but the two high-school kids knew better than to stand and wonder. As one, they dashed from the movie line toward the noise.

Using skills they learned in costume change class, they shed their civilian clothes and, without losing a step, were in their superhero costumes. Knowing how to support each other, Gloriana took off, flying toward the source of the noise, while Pendragon kicked into high gear to run. Several Dunwich residents saw her take off, and most of them simply yawned; seeing super kids was no big deal anymore. They were more curious about the supernatural shrieks. She rounded a corner, and saw a scene of total chaos.

It was difficult to be certain in the dim light, but it looked to Gloriana like Nursing was kneeling beside Chat Bleu, probably tending to injuries. Based solely on who hung out together, it was a safe bet that the boy standing near them was RPG, looking helplessly at the massive pool of snake-shaped blackness that was in the middle of the street, and had obviously attracted the attention of the kids. She was certain she recognized Harrier hovering out of the snake's reach over the sky, unsure of what he could to do help, while in the middle of the scene, Naomi stood in the street, trying not to stare at the monstrosity that was coiled up to strike her. To one side, Kayda and Punch were against a wall that had a conspicuous Punch-shaped indentation in the bricks as a testament to the force that had hit her.

Kayda bent over, picking up something, while Punch screamed at Naomi helplessly. If there was any truth to the wild gossip that Punch and Naomi were an item, it would explain why Punch was so distraught at Naomi's very vulnerable situation.

Gloriana wasn't close enough to help. It was a truly frustrating feeling to know that one of the Whateley students was probably about to die. Still, she turned and burned, flying as fast as she could toward the helpless girl. As always seemed to happen when adrenaline levels were high, the entire scene seemed to move in slow-motion.

Adrian beat her by a few seconds, which was fortuitous for Naomi, because Gloriana would have _never_ been able to reach her in time. The snake thing's massive maw snapped on empty space, vacated only a moment before by Adrian swooping in to snatch Naomi from certain death.

The snake demon was extremely angry at that move, but instead of pursuing Naomi and Adrian, he turned back toward the two girls by the building.

"Vasiliy! Shoot!" Kayda screamed.

Gloriana knew that RPG had a devastating energy attack, and that Kayda, seemingly quite vulnerable, would be inside the blast radius if RPG did shoot. "She's too close!" Gloriana yelled at Vasiliy.

"Shoot! Now!" Kayda commanded again, more insistently.

Snakey had finished coiling, and was ready to strike. Kayda was helpless, and Gloriana wasn't close enough to help.

"Don't look at the thing," Punch yelled, getting Gloriana's attention. "Don't make eye contact with it! It'll make you insane!"

For the moment, natural human curiosity defeated better judgment, and Gloriana looked at the snake creature bearing down on Kayda. It seemed to radiate evil, and if the back of its head was any guide, the thing's face was a horrible sight to behold. Gloriana turned at a flash, in time to see RPG send an energy ball toward the snake. She pulled up her flight into a retreat to keep distance between herself and the incipient explosion.

She couldn't help but look as a massive fireball and explosion engulfed the snake creature and Kayda.

* - * - * - * - *

Kayda

Adrian dove in and got Naomi out of the serpent-demon's way just in time, after she had so heroically retrieved Wakan Mila and tossed it my way. Luck was with me or she had good aim; it clattered to the ground essentially at my feet. I barely had time to pick it up before old snake-face turned his attention back to me.

Evvie was torn between trying to help me and looking after Naomi. I gave her a shove toward the others; I had no idea how long her PK field could last against snakey, and if she happened to make eye contact .... Besides, my one last gambit might prove fatal to her if her PK field didn't provide enough protection. This fight was too dangerous for the others.

As snakey reared to strike at me, in what would most likely be a final blow, I screamed at Vasiliy, "Vasiliy! Shoot!"

A familiar voice from the Capes sang out above me. "She's too close!" I didn't have time to glance up to see Gloriana; instead I urged Vasiliy, " Shoot! Now!"

No sooner had the energy ball formed in his hands than I did a quick incantation. Snakey was lunging toward me, his dagger-filled mouth and claw-tipped arms ready to tear me to pieces. Behind him, I saw the energy ball leave Vasiliy's hands.

I dove to the side, just as his RPG blast hit snakey in a massive explosion and ball of fire. As snakey and I were engulfed in the explosion, I was knocked back against the building, hard enough to knock the wind out of me even though my shield spell was up. It seemed to be holding against the massive forces assailing it. If I got time, I was going to have to thank Wakan Tanka for teaching me the stronger version of the spell.

As my eyes painfully readjusted to the dim illumination of two very distant street lamps, I could see the others, half-turned away from the blast, but peering back my direction. In the street lay snakey, although it was difficult to say how badly he'd been hurt because his inky black body blended too well with the dark scene.

As I watched in horror, snakey's eyes opened, and laboriously, he began to lift his head. "You and your friends will have to do better than that, Wihakayda," he hissed. If he'd been angry before, he was furious now, and his voice was labored some. RPG's blast _had_ hurt him. I needed to summon another shield, and then let Vasiliy lob some more of his energy bursts at the critter.

Before I could direct him, a figure in what looked to be chivalric armor, wielding a sword, dashed past the group and charged at the demon. "No!" I screamed to Pendragon, but I was too late. His sword bit into snakey, eliciting a howl of pain, and then the demon spun toward the new threat. His claws raked at Pendragon, and his teeth bit ferociously again and again at the armored figure, but Pendragon was experienced, and he kept his shield between himself and snakey's mouthful of jagged doom. Unfortunately for Pendragon, as he fought, snakey whipped his tail around viciously, smashing into the would-be hero and knocking him back by the assembled group of my friends.

Using the distraction, I leaped at snakey's body, knife stabbing into the demon-hide. Snakey roared in agony as I felt Wakan Mila draining her magic into the demon's body. He thrashed around wildly, trying to strike me and dislodge the knife. I was thrown from him, miraculously hanging onto my sacred knife, and Snakey turned to glare at me.

"You can't protect yourself and your friends at the same time, Wihakayda," he hissed angrily, before spinning and lunging toward my retreating friends.

"We'll see about that, asshole!" I snarled at the demon. I incanted, and a small ball of magical energy formed in my hands, which I then hurled toward the nearest two, Laurie and Chat Bleu, who was still down, possibly knocked unconscious by the first blows. The little ball hit Laurie, and because she'd been touching Chat Bleu, both girls received the magic and shimmered and vanished from sight. I repeated the incantation, sending what Wakan Tanka had called a group spell toward Naomi, Adrian, and Evvie, and likewise, the three vanished. "Move!" I screamed at them as snakey roared in frustration. Angry at losing his targets, he smashed his body at the spot where Laurie and Chat Bleu had last been, and his tail thumped wildly about, smashing into the asphalt street hard enough to damage it.

Gloriana pulled up short, facing the demon, and a burst of bright energy radiated from her, smashing into snakey. The demon shrieked again, the light having the same effect on him that sunlight would. She dove in closer, preparing for another of her glory bursts, but she had to dodge his thrashing tail which was trying to swat her from the skies. One swipe of the massive tail clipped her slightly, sending her careening through the sky.

It was an opening that I needed. As I ran toward his body, unseen since he was so focused on Gloriana, I pushed my essence into Wakan Mila, and dove onto the top of his body, my knife flashing downward in an arc even before I hit. No sooner had the knife entered than snakey screamed and convulsed his body, trying to toss me and the knife free. I poured every bit of essence I had into the knife, feeling it course through me and into my blade, and snakey's roar turned into an ear-splitting shriek. Still I pushed essence, and the snake demon reared, twisting his head over his back to attack me.

With a final convulsion, the snake demon's fore-body crashed to the ground. Still clinging to my knife, all of my essence poured into the blade and into snake-face, until I was drained. I slipped off, exhausted from pushing so much magical energy into the demon. That was it - I was spent, and if he still lived, I had no more fight left in me.

"He is dead, Wihakayda," Wakan Tanka said proudly to me. "You fought well."

"I'm tired," I said, feeling like I didn't even have enough energy to speak.

"Drink some tea," she replied, holding forth a cup. "It is the healing tea to help your body, and it will give you some essence."

"Yeah," I acknowledged wearily. "All I want to do is sleep."

I levered myself off the ground and looked around. Snakey was on the ground, unmoving, and the aura of evil he'd been radiating was gone. "He's dead," I said. "Finally." Without quite knowing why, I tilted my head back, and spreading my arms down and back, I cried out, letting loose with what Mr. Two Knives would recognize as a Lakota war and victory cry.

It dawned on me that a number of the spectators were staring at me, paying more attention to the fact that I'd just let loose an Indian war cry than to the battle and snake corpse behind me. Suddenly, I felt very conspicuous.

With a quick spell, I burst all the ghost-walking spells I'd cast on my friends to protect them. Behind them, we'd attracted something of a crowd, which was not unusual given the explosions and screaming that had gone on in the preceding battle. I collapsed wearily to the ground, sitting beside the corpse of the fearsome spawn of Unhcegila.

"Hey, Fey!" Toni called as she pushed to the front of the crowd. "Look at what Kayda killed. We have SO got to mount that thing in our trophy room!"

I looked up at her, not quite believing her casually-sassy attitude.

"Uh, Toni," Nikki said cautiously, "we don't _have_ a trophy room."

"What? Why not?" Toni turned to another person in the crowd. "Ayles? Hey, Ayla!"

"What, Toni?"

"You need to pay for a little change in Poe. You have _got_ to get us a trophy room!" Toni turned back to Nikki. "Do you think that we should put it next to the Yama Dojo ninja stuff, or next to the picture of Billie whooping the Arch-Fiend's ass?"

"Definitely next to the Yama Dojo stuff," Ayla replied.

"That black hide would make a _cool_ pair of snake-skin boots! And a matching belt and purse!" Toni observed.

I just stared at them, not quite believing their casual, carefree demeanor. "Guys," I cautioned everyone, shaking my head in disbelief at their sassy attitudes, "stay back from him. He's got Class X taint."

* - * - * - * - *

HPARC - Black Hills, South Dakota

A psychic roar of anguish rattled through the entire HPARC complex, beginning in the lowest, most secure level. In the control room on the second lowest level, coffee cups rattled and clinked, while dust drifted down from overhead fixtures and false ceilings. The staff looked anxiously among themselves, afraid of what was causing the facility to shake from top to bottom.

Ernst looked up from the paperwork he was completing, a frown on his face. "Look at the monitors. Find out what's causing that!" he barked.

"All the monitors are out," someone called from the control room outside his office.

"Code Black Lockdown!" Ernst decided without having to think. "Power armor teams suit up and triple the guards between levels."

Sirens started to sound as security doors slammed shut, while the clatter of guards echoed in the halls. Moments later, the 'clomp, clomp' of power-armor added to the sound of chaos. In less than five minutes, the only sound was the siren.

"Shut that damned thing off," Ernst yelled to be heard above the siren and the echoing of the unknown roar.

Hazel Two Bears stuck her head in Ernst's office. "Got any idea what it is?"

Ernst shook his head. "I suppose you do?"

Hazel nodded grimly. "That's Unhcegila."

Ernst's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"That's his call. Something hurt him, badly."

"What? What could do that?"

Hazel smiled. "That answer is back east."

"Charlie Lodgeman?"

Hazel shook her head. "Nope." She strolled back to the office she was borrowing at the HPARC center. "She has returned," she said softly to herself, smiling enigmatically.

A level down, in a secured room, Unhcegila finally stopped his agonized roar. He'd felt it when his son had died, and it surprised him. After recovering the energy which he'd expended in his emotional rant, he sent a psychic message to his two remaining sons. "She is stronger than I thought."

"I understand, father," the closer son, the one working on the wards that kept Unhcegila prisoner.

"Do not allow this to make you clumsy," Unhcegila warned, "but you must free me soon so she can be stopped. She must not be allowed to grow more powerful."

"What shall I do, father?" the second son called in psychically.

"Find the sacred sphere. I must have it soon because it will take time to empower me."

"Yes, father."

* - * - * - * - *

Kane Hall

"His remains are dangerous," I said urgently. We sat in a conference room in the security offices, with Gloriana and Pendragon, and my friends who'd been in the battle. Mrs. Carson had Dr. Hazel Two Bears on the telephone on a conference call.

Mrs. Carson nodded. "I understand. Louis?"

"We have a guard on the remains to keep people a safe distance. ARC has been notified and is sending a team to retrieve them."

I snorted. "Toni's going to be so disappointed that we can't make a souvenir of its head." That statement was greeted eye-rolls by both Mrs. Carson and Chief Delarose.

"Ms. Chandler and her friends are well known for a rather ... unique ... sense of humor," Mr. Geintz said dryly.

"Was this the same snake demon you've dealt with before?" Mrs. Carson asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. He's the one that attacked me in my dream space, and he had the same psychic feel as the Mishibijiw and ... Officer Matthews." The last words were spoken softly, knowing that they were probably an unfortunate reminder to Chief Delarose and Mrs. Carson.

Louis Geintz nodded. "I can't ... feel ... that psychic presence in at least a hundred miles of Whateley. It's a safe assumption that he's deceased."

"From the top, what happened?" Mrs. Carson beat Chief Delarose to the punch.

We all took turns telling the story, interrupting each other when one forgot a point or we thought something needed embellishment. I'm sure the running description of the battle was rather disjointed, but the essential information was all there, and we didn't care if the administration and security were going to need to work to put the events in order.

Mrs. Carson nodded. "How are you all? I assume you got hurt again?" She was looking at me on the last bit.

Laurie gave a semi-serious chuckle. "I suspect Chat Bleu got a concussion in the first attack. She was unconscious for most of the fight."

"And you're going to Doyle as soon as we're done, right?" Mrs. Carson directed.

"Oui, Madame," Chat Bleu answered.

"Harrier escaped injury from attacks, but he strained a muscle saving Naomi." Mrs. Carson nodded. "Punch took several hits," Laurie continued.

"I saw the dent in the brick building," Chief Delarose said, shaking his head. "I'd add the word 'significant' to the description."

Laurie nodded before continuing. "Gloriana was hit with a glancing blow from his tail, but I healed her minor injuries. Pendragon was lucky he had his armor on; he got a few scrapes from that thing's claws. He's healed, too."

"And Kayda?" Mrs. Carson asked, looking right at me.

"Broken left radius, probable concussion, possible fractured rib," Laurie began to recite my injury list.

"What is it with you and broken ribs?" Chief Delarose asked sarcastically. I just shook my head.

"Sprained right ankle and knee. And her right wrist is sprained as well.

"And you haven't healed yourself because ...?" Mrs. Carson asked.

I sighed, fatigued beyond belief. "I drained all my essence into that thing," I replied.

Mrs. Carson looked at the phone. "Dr. Two Bears, is there anything you'd like to add?"

Hazel answered. "From the photos you sent, I can confirm it was the offspring of Unhcegila."

"I knew that already," I muttered, annoyed. Why didn't they believe me when I told them what I knew?

"From the legends, Unhcegila has three offspring in his brood," she continued. "There is evidence that one of them is active on the Lakota reservations, and there is some evidence that the third is still in Paha Sapa."

"So it's unlikely that another one of them would venture to the Whateley area?" Louis asked.

"No. Unhcegila is on ice in HPARC and can't have more offspring, so there are at most two of them left. According to legend, he can't have another brood until all of his sons are killed anyway. Your area should be safe."

"I haven't detected a similar psychic presence here," Louis reported.

"What, if I may ask," Mrs. Carson said, "can you tell us about this Unhcegila? Is it a threat that we might have to deal with?"

"Unhcegila is the eternal enemy of Wakan Tanka, and thus Ptesanwi."

"We figured that part out," I said sarcastically. "Are you sure Unhcegila is still there?"

"Yes," Hazel said without pause. "There was a significant ... event ... here, that seems to correlate with the time you killed his spawn. Unhcegila is still here."

"Good."

"And he knows you killed his spawn," Hazel added.

"That can't be good," I said with a sigh.

"Can you please provide any additional information you might have on this Unhcegila?" Mrs. Carson asked. "

"I'll get a packet put together. Courier?" Hazel asked.

"Yes, that would be good. I'd prefer to not have too many people know that we're dealing with this particular nasty spirit."

"I'll have something for you tomorrow."

"Good. Is there anything else?" Mrs. Carson asked.

"I'd like to meet Kayda," Hazel said. "Anyone who beats Unhcegila's spawn must be pretty special, and her report of the fight would be useful data for us."

"She'll be on spring break in a week," Mrs. Carson said.

"Yeah. I'll be back home. Hopefully." It was all going to depend on whether my hometown was going to be hostile or not.

"Anything else?" There was no response. "Okay, I'm sure we'll be talking more."

"Kayda?" Hazel asked through the phone.

"Yes?"

"You're her, aren't you?" Hazel asked enigmatically.

My mind raced. I could lie, or mislead her, but I was certain she already knew the truth. The question was how many other people I wanted to know. Certainly, the group at Whateley counted among my friends and teachers. "Yes," I answered simply.

After the debriefing session ended, about eleven at night, Mrs. Carson made us all go to Doyle to get checked out. It was then that I started shaking uncontrollably. I glanced around, and noticed that Naomi and Laurie were also looking quite rattled. But surely not Evvie? No, when I looked at her, she, too, looked rattled by the experience.

The emergency staff called in Banned Aids, who did a healing on all of us. By the time it was my turn, my regeneration had kicked in, and the amount of healing I needed was minimal. After that, Laurie and Adrian walked with us back to Poe. Mrs. Horton noticed how unsettled we still were, so she made an exception to policy and allowed Laurie to stay with us for a sleep-over. We all collapsed from physical and emotional exhaustion within seconds of lying down.

In the few moments before I fell asleep, I took a moment to reflect. It had been a good day. Intense, challenging, nerve-wracking, and terrifying, but as Mr. Two Knives had told me only a few hours earlier, the exhilaration of battle and victory more than made up for the jangled nerves. I realized at that moment that I was a warrior.

* - * - * - * - *

END OF KAYDA 2