Cythera was busily chatting away to Daja and Sandry, just as Alanna had hoped she would. The Lioness was exhausted, her violet eyes threaded with a ghastly red and set in a too-pale face. It was much easier to let Cythera do her work for her and have some time to sort out her thoughts.

She found herself walking alongside the woman Sandry had introduced as Lark. Nice name, Alanna reflected mildly, I wonder if she has a character to match? Sandry seemed to like her. As though summoned by her very thoughts, Alanna felt a warm, gentle hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she met the eyes of a smiling Lark.

"Tired?" The Dedicate questioned gently. Alanna nodded, smiling. Lark beamed. "I can't blame you." The woman agreed, gesturing towards the others, engrossed in conversation. "That lot would wear out a stone wall."

Alanna blinked. From Sandry's description-rather hurried-this woman held the same sort of position as one of the Daughters, back at the convent, but she acted more a big sister or mother. Lucky Sandry, Alanna reflected enviously.

There was a momentary lull in the conversation. Rosethorn's voice rang out, loud and clear. "Cythera, do you have any gardens in this place? I could do with some refreshment."

Cythera blinked and stared a little at this, but pulled herself up quickly, bristling at the inferred insult to the Palace. "Of course we have gardens!  Rose gardens, tulip gardens water gardens, herb gardens, wild gardens, orchards, berry gardens, vegetable gardens…" The monologue continued. Alanna shook her head.

"Let me get this straight," She asked Lark in an exasperated voice, momentarily forgetting her age, "Rosethorn and Briar are plant mages who can talk to grass…"

"…And everything else that grows..." Lark added helpfully.

"…Yes, thank you… Daja and Frostpine are metal mages who can smell gold from ten metres…"

"…And all other metals."

"And you and Sandry…"

"Are thread mages, yes." Seeing Alanna's slightly confused look, she clarified, "Our power works through thread, spinning, weaving, carding, everything. Sandry can handle raw magic better then any of the others, because it's really just another kind of thread."

Alanna rolled her head on one side, thoughtfully. "Would you show me?" She asked, a little bashfully. Lark chuckled.

"It would be a pleasure." Glancing around for something to do, she noticed a rip in Alanna's clothing which had not yet been mended. An impish look in her eyes, she pointed out to Alanna, who stared at it intently. Holding up a hand, Lark wove the threads into each other magically, creating a seamless mend before Alanna's very eyes. Seeing the expression on her face, Lark shrugged self-effacingly. "My magic's not flashy." She said apologetically. "You want Tris for that."

"That's alright," Alanna began, "I…" but she was cut off by a squeal from Cythera. Alanna whipped round. "Cyth, what is it?"

Her friend was frozen in a very dramatic position, eyes wide, a hand clapped to her mouth. The colour had drained from her cheeks, leaving her ashen grey.

"Aly!" She wailed miserably. "It's the presentation ball tonight!"

A/N: Ooh! A ball! What WILL happen? Want to know really, really soon? Review! Thank you all so much for getting me to 150 so quickly on my first fic, it means so much to me. Y'all get cyber-brownies! Also, I do make a huge effort to read the stories of anyone who reviews, so there's something in it for you guys!