"YOU'RE PULLING MY leg," I said, stretching out across a couple desks in an unused classroom. "You never go to class - there's no way you can be a better swordsman than the teacher."

"I go to the classes I wanna go to," Fred replied, leaning back in his chair. "'Course, Swordfightin's the only one, but what're ya gonna do? 'Sides, I've been usin' a sword since I was seven. Why shouldn't I be better?"

I laughed. "Well, I'd challenge that, but I've only been taking lessons for three days. There's still no guarantee I won't take off the arm of the person standing next to me."

"I can prove it," Fred said. "'Ere, Mikey, get your sword out. We're gonna show Tammy 'ere just 'ow good we can fight wivout the teacher's 'elp."

Mikey was the big, mean-looking boy with the bowl cut. He grunted. "I gotta?"

"No," Fred said conversationally, "but if ya don't you'll probably find my sword at your throat and you'll draw any'ow."

Jacob - the skinny kid - and I both laughed. Then I laughed even harder as Jacob fell out of his chair.

"See," I told him, "that's why you aren't supposed to lean back like that."

He scowled. "Could ya 'elp me up?"

"Nah." We all three laughed at the indignant scowl on his scrawny face. "Come on, if you don't use your muscles you'll be a skinny little rat forever!"

"Ah, stuff it, Tammy..." He pulled himself up, still scowling.

Mikey sighed and rose, drawing his sword. "If only just to make you divvies shut it..."

I raised my eyebrows. "Right in here, with all the desks in the way?"

Fred shrugged. "Why not?"

And then he and Mikey started fighting.

My eyes went wide as I watched. There was no bloody way...

But Fred was every bit as good as he'd said. Mikey wasn't half bad, either, though I could see a definite difference between their skill levels. Mikey's style basically depended on good old brute force; Fred's was quicker, cleverer, though just as strong. I pulled myself into a sitting position and watched, leaning about as far forwards as I could without falling off the desk.

The two boys dodged around desks - well, Mikey did; Fred clambered over them sometimes - past chairs, and from wall to wall, almost like they'd practised it. Mikey had a snarl on his face. Fred looked shockingly calm and collected. There was more difference between their fighting styles than just the outside, I realised. Fred was perfectly composed, taking in everything around him. Mikey was just barrelling through angrily, trying to overpower the smaller boy.

And then with two quick flicks of his wrist, Fred disarmed Mikey and put the sword to his throat. The two of them stood there, breathing heavily. The room was utterly silent.

Fred sheathed his sword and plopped himself down on one of the desks. "See?" he asked. "I don't need no teacher tellin' me 'ow to swing a sword. An' neither do these two."

"That's 'cos I fight with a knife," Jacob muttered.

"And that's 'cos even a little sword would weigh more than you." I grinned wickedly in response to Jacob's scowl. "Seriously, kid. Lighten up. Your face is gonna stick like that if you aren't careful!"

Just then, the bell rang, releasing us for lunch. We headed out the door and down towards the cafeteria.

Nick, Cristine, and Erik sat down inconspicuously at a table across the room from us. I glanced their direction and winked. Cristine giggled.

It had been three days since we'd arrived at Swinedimples - three days since I'd found Fred and his lot lounging around behind the auditorium and had managed to join up with them. Honestly, it had been pretty easy. And since then, I'd managed to skive off every class except for Swordfighting and music. I wasn't entirely happy about that - Swinedimples was, from all I'd read, the best school in the Protectorate, and I didn't really want to miss anything - but this was kind of fun. And it was freeing, too. It felt like I didn't have any inhibitions - a natural side affect of hanging around with people who did whatever they wanted, without bothering what anyone else thought.

I reached across to the fruit plate and snagged an apple. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Erik watching me from across the room. I grinned and crunched down loudly on the apple. Then I turned my attention back to the gang. I couldn't let on that this was a sham, after all.

Erik watched from across the cafeteria as Tammy and the boys in Fred's gang ate and talked, chattering and reaching over each other and shoving one another as though none of them had ever heard of the concept of manners. He pursed his lips and picked at the sandwich on his plate.

Nick and Cristine paid no more attention than the occasional glance across the cafeteria. They were engrossed in their own conversation. Erik paid them no mind.

Absentmindedly, he continued picking at the sandwich, pulling it to pieces.

Fred said something - from this angle, Erik could not read his lips, and the sounds of student conversation were too loud for him to pick up any of what was said - and Tammy leaned back, roaring with laughter. Erik clenched his jaw and put down the shred of sandwich that he had been considering eating.

He did not like this.

Why, he did not know, but the whole situation frustrated him. Every time he saw Tammy with those boys, he could practically feel his blood pressure rising. They were rude, uncouth creatures, and he did not like Tammy spending time with them. And he especially did not like the fact that she seemed to enjoy it.

In his frustration, he was so distracted that it was not until he realised that his fingers were scrabbling at air that he discovered that he had ripped the sandwich into pieces so small they could easily be termed crumbs. He sighed heavily and let his head fall into his hands, massaging at his temples in an attempt to ward off the headache he knew was coming.

"Erik, what's wrong?" Cristine asked, breaking off from her conversation with Nick. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I am fine," he lied flatly. "But I believe I need fresh air."

And with that, he rose and left the cafeteria.

The cold air outside was filled with tiny snowflakes which must have appeared after they had entered the cafeteria. Erik strode across the grounds towards the auditorium. He knew that there would be pads set up for the fisticuffs class which commenced after lunch.

He pushed the door open, made directly for one of the punching bags, and roundhouse kicked it as hard as he could. Then he kicked it with his other leg. And then he tore off his handrills and sprang into action, attacking the bag as if it was a threat to his life.

As he stumbled backwards after a particularly powerful kick, he stopped, eyes going wide. I am behaving like a mortal, he realised, horrified. What is the matter with me?

A great number of things sprang to mind, including Aquila's disappearance, Stella's presence, and the incredible tedium of sitting through lessons on things he had learnt long before, but none of them was the answer.

He sighed and leant back on his heels. This was wrong. A Celestrian should not behave so. You ought not let your emotions get the better of you... Idiot boy! he berated himself. Celestrians are above such petty emotions as this!

But just what petty emotion it was, he did not know.

The bell rang to end lunch, and still Erik was crouched in the auditorium. He only moved when he remembered that a class was to commence in there, and it was not one he was to be in. Sighing, he rose and strode out of the room, passing several surprised fisticuffs students who were on their way in.

He did not go to class, though. When the bell rang again, he slipped out of the school building and began to walk.

And there he paced the rest of the day, struggling to puzzle out his feelings.

It was almost lights-out by the time I got back to Cristine's and my room that evening. She was stretched out on the bed in her nightdress, reading a book. "Hi, Tammy," she said without looking round.

I smiled. "Hi. How ever did you realise it was me?"

She laughed and sat up, marking her page. "Because no one else would come in here - your little chat with Fred and his lot made sure of that. And speaking of which, how is the lovely gang today?"

"Same as usual," I said, pawing through my bag for my nightclothes. "But I did find out something interesting about Fred today."

"Mm?" Cristine rolled back onto her stomach, pointedly staring down at the page while I changed.

I nodded. "Yeah. He's brilliant with a sword."

Cristine raised her eyebrows. "Really?" she asked. "I wouldn't have imagined."

"Me, neither," I laughed. "But it's true. He started bragging about it and then challenged Mikey to a fight to prove it."

"Mikey - the big one? He must have crushed Fred!"

I shook my head. "Actually, Fred beat him pretty bad. I'm done, by the way - you can look round if you like." I moved over to pull out the trundle bed that the headmaster had given us to use since we had two people in the room.

Cristine sat up, setting her book aside. "So Fred won?" she asked. "That seems unlikely."

I shrugged. "Yeah," I said, "but it's true. Honestly, the kid's really good at it. If he'd just get his act together, he'd make a brilliant warrior."

"Huh." She scooted to the edge of the bed. "So what had you out so late tonight? Even with Fred's gang, you're usually back by curfew."

"We were practising." I nodded over to my sword, which I'd leant up against the desk. "For several hours. Fred was trying to teach me a few tricks."

Cristine nodded. She was quiet for a second, biting her lip. Then she said, "Do you really enjoy hanging round with them?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Sort of," I admitted. "It's a lot different from being with you and Nick and Erik. I mean, it's not like I'm ever particularly polite when I'm with you -" Cristine giggled, and I grinned - "but I found out pretty quickly that Fred and his lot don't much care how you act. It's kind of weird, but kind of fun, too. Why?"

"I don't know," Cristine said. "Just...well, Erik was acting sort of weird at lunch, and I think it was because he was watching you and the gang."

I snorted. "Erik acts weird without my help," I said. "And why would he be watching us anyway? I'm the one keeping an eye on the boys, not him."

Cristine shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know. I just...thought I ought to tell you."

Then there was a knock at the door. "Lights out, girls!" called a voice. "Time to stop chatting."

"Yes, sir," I said. I got up, switched off the lights, and lay back down on my trundle.

"Cristine," I murmured after a long, dark, silent moment.

"Mm?"

I fidgeted. "Why do you think Erik was watching my table?"

She was quiet for a minute. I could hear the sheets rustling as she moved a little.

Finally, she said, "Honestly, Tammy...I think that's something you're going to have to figure out for yourself."

Neither of us said anything else. After a while, Cristine's breath slowed down, and I knew she was asleep.

But I didn't join her for a long, long time.

Hello again!

Mm, awesome week...sleepovers, cross-country, and messing around with characters that don't have any real personality in the game! Seriously, that's good fun. Jacob kind of reminds me of my brother...

Okay, so the past few times I've posted, I've been really paranoid that I'm going to hit the wrong file - my Phantom fanfiction file sits above this one, so that's what I instinctively try to hit. It'll leave the system in a few weeks, I think, but I apologise in advance if instead of another chapter of Song of the Souls, you accidentally get Le Point de Non Retour.

Anyway..Til next time, I suppose.

May all the bodies of the heavens watch over you!