Ty was late. Kehel was late. It was all a bit of collective lateness explained by the two boys, who had gone to the Weed and told him it was all Otian's fault. Ty had raised an eyebrow at him whilst hearing the news, for everyone knew Otian was never to blame for anything but perhaps a bad joke now and then. It was later explained that Otian had volunteered. Ty thanked him and the boy glowed, then they all went back to report to their teacher, who would be telling them who to wait on, while the older boys went to change.

Leej and Otian disappeared, to no one's real surprise. Otian said he had to do something, and Leej had a date. Mel and Terry were going to the Dancing Dove, they said. Ty waved them off, her thoughts elsewhere, then returned to serving tables.

It was not until in the evening when everything happened at once. It was midnight, and Kehel had only just gotten sent off serving duty. He had only to wait a while and Ty, too, would get off. She was doing extra duty for a slight ill-comment on the serving-master. It had been funny.

"Ty! Hand me over that small spoon over there!" the man had shouted in the kitchen. Ty had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and half-turned, only to look directly where the man had briefly pointed before shuffling away to deal with a handful of different dishes.

"Which one, sir?" she asked the kitchen quietly, looking at the dozens of silver spoons lined up by size, each about a minute fraction of an inch apart in size. They all looked, to Ty, about three inches big. She picked one at random and came up to him.

"This one?" she asked politely.

"No!" replied the man, turning around to look at it for a second before running off in another direction, Ty barely moving but still at his heels. "For the sake of the Goddess, dear me, can't you pick one of the small ones? I'll give you a clue: it's silver-colored. Now get it to me!"

"Oh, its silver is it?" she had asked heatedly. "I'm terribly sorry sir. They all look silver to me. And which size? They all measure about three inches, not one over or under it! Which one?" At this point Kehel and a handful of others had turned around to look in their direction, looking puzzled as to the reason for the fuss.

"All silver indeed!" the man had cried indignantly. "Page, can't you at least fetch a spoon, or is your intelligence thus so narrowed? Is there so many problems within your loins you can't even sit still until midnight?"

A few of the pages giggled. Ty pulsed with rage, though her face didn't show it. Her tongue did, for it said fiercely, "I would not create question about my intelligence sir; it far outstrips your own. And I would not raise arguments about the state of my loins, I assure you, for it would raise certain questions about your own genitalia. That is, if there's any left after Cook did away with it when you last pissed yourself."

A gasp had gone round the room. Then several boys had stuffed their fists in their mouths in order to stop themselves openly laughing. Kehel's face was red, he had seen in the silverware, but the serving-master's had been much, much worse.

"Out of my kitchen!" he had bellowed. "Detention duty, page! Scrubbing pans until one! Out!"

All Ty had done was raise an eyebrow and say, "well boys, that answers that question, now, doesn't it? Don't think there'll be any more insinuations on my loins from those that don't have them, isn't that right, sir?"

"OUT!"

Kehel chuckled slightly.

"Kehel?" Ty asked as she gathered her things without a sound. "Could we pass by your room on our way to dinner? I need that notebook on the Kyprish notes and the other textbook for Tkaa's assignment."

Kehel nodded dumbly, then began walking along Ty as she made for the Page's Wing. Ty hoped he knew what she meant: she was going prowling, and needed his notes of the red building on the left side of the Dancing Dove in order to get in secretly. There was something there she wanted to check.

They walked silently over to his room. She waited outside as he went in, searched his desk for a moment, then came back out with the book. She nodded, then smiled slightly and looked into his face. It looked visibly gray. She frowned.

"Cub, what is it?" she asked him quietly, leaning against the doorframe. He shook his head and kept walking out the door. She grabbed his arm and turned him around.

He took a deep breath. "Ty, I need to ask you two favors," he said, looking into her eyes as if searching them for something. Ty frowned deeper and nodded.

"And they are?" she asked as he hesitated. The Panther whispered in her mind. She ignored her. Kehel never asked for anything. This must be serious. Within reason, she would help him with what he asked.

"First," he said, his eyes darting from location to location, though not locking onto hers. "I need to ask you: when are our Midwinter presents being given out? Tomorrow?"

"Yes," she answered. "And the second?"

Once again Kehel took a deep breath. Ty folded her arms and tried hard to force the Panther to be quiet for once. She searched his face. Something was there that she had seen before, but could not fathom. Was it shame?

"Kehel, spit it out," she told him sternly. "What is it? What can I help you with?"

"I—I need you to promise me something," he said at length. She raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Promise you won't kill me."

He wouldn't meet her eyes. Ty made her face into a blank, mask in the slight darkness. Then she nodded.

"Promise?" he asked.

"Tehea's word, I won't kill you," she told him. Then she smiled slightly. "I don't see why I should though. Kehel, have you been misbehaving?"

Kehel faced her at last. Ty's smile died.

"Please don't kill me," he muttered. She nodded.

Then he leaned in. For some reason, her eyes were closed, her lips and face felt warm, despite the fierce cold. Then shock took over, then quickly was shut away as the sense in her head kicked in and she stepped back, knocking her head against the doorframe. Kehel drew back, pink in the face.

"Midwinter tradition, Ty," he mumbled. Then he faked a smile. "No killing, remember, you promised," he said, waving a finger in front of her stunned and speechless face. She was pale, numbed, and sweating. Instinct took over. She jerked his feet from under him, jumped to the ceiling, and dashed for her private ceiling, her spire. The panther chanted in her head triumphantly.

I told you so, I told you so, she sang in her mind.

Shut up.