Damien leaned on the table in the little kitchen in their quarters and nibbled on a slice of bread covered with blueberry jam. The normally sweet jam seemed bitter this morning. He hadn’t slept much last night. After his father’s pronouncement Damien had thought of little else. Jen and Lizzy both tried to convince him Dad didn’t mean it, but after seeing the disgust in his face Damien knew he did. Barring a miracle Damien would be homeless in a few months.

He flexed his shoulder; the pain had vanished overnight, but it still felt a little stiff. His class had sword drills this afternoon and he felt good enough to join in, though he’d have to sit out morning calisthenics or face Miss Ella’s wrath. From behind the door to his sister’s room came the sound of hard-soled shoes on stone. Damien covered a second slice of bread with jam and poured a glass of milk. Jen appeared in a swirl of blond hair. He handed Jen her breakfast and they ate for a while in silence.

Halfway through her bread Jen said, “I heard you tossing and turning last night. Did you get any sleep?”

Damien shrugged and washed the last of his breakfast down with a swallow of milk. “Not much. Busy mind, you know?”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it, Damien. Dad would never kick you out. He was just upset.”

Damien washed, dried, and put away his dishes. “He didn’t come home until early this morning and stayed just long enough to grab Lizzy. He can’t even stand to be in the same room with me. I think he meant every word.”

“Try not to worry about it. Walk with me to strategy class?”

“Sure.”

They left their quarters and went downstairs. Students from all years milled around the entry hall, talking, arguing and flirting. Every boy and many of the girls turned their heads to stare when Jen walked down the stairs, the boys in open awe and the girls with a combination of annoyance and jealousy. She ignored them all with her usual cool indifference. No one gave Damien so much as a second glance. Walking with Jen he never had to worry about getting too much attention.

They turned down the left-hand hall towards the strategy room. Damien had a class there once a week, though they only covered basic, small-scale stuff. He loved strategy class. Since it didn’t require soul force he excelled at it.

Jen stopped halfway down the hall. “Damn it! I forgot my paper. I’ll be right back.” She turned and ran back down the hall about three times as fast as a normal person.

She must have pushed soul force into her legs to enhance her speed. He shook his head as she disappeared around the corner. Just once he’d like to run that fast.

“Well, well, well.”

Damien turned to find a pair of fourth-year students ambling his way, soul-force-enhanced muscles straining against their uniforms. The tall blond with close-cropped hair was Dirk and the shorter bald one his idiot cousin Donk. Now would be a good time to be able to run like his sister.

“Our favorite punching bag, out and about without his big sister to protect him,” Dirk said, prompting an evil chuckle from his cousin. “Word is you failed your endurance test again.”

“What’s it to you?”

Dirk’s lips curled into an ugly sneer. “Tsk, tsk, you should show your seniors more respect. Perhaps we can give you some practice toughening up. What do you say, Donk?”

Donk chuckled again and cracked his knuckles. Damien grimaced. This could get ugly in a hurry. “Don’t you two have anything better to do than bother me?”

The two bullies shared a look then turned back to him. “Not just now. We need our morning workout and you’re it.”

Damien brought his fists up in a futile gesture. He had no chance of beating them one on one much less together and judging by their grins, Dirk and Donk knew it.

They lunged for him. Damien ducked and shot between Donk’s legs. He scrambled away then spun to face them. The older boys weren’t using any speed enhancements, which was the only reason Damien managed that move.

“Slippery, ain’t he?” Donk said.

“Indeed. Shall we try again, cousin?”

Dirk blurred and before he could react Damien slammed into the wall, Dirk’s fist snarled in his uniform. His captor leaned forward. “A weakling like you didn’t think you could get away from us, did you?”

Damien flicked a glance down the hall and grinned. “I wasn’t trying to escape. I was trying to delay you.”

Dirk frowned as he tried to understand. “Why?”

Damien nodded back toward the entry hall.

Dirk turned his head just in time to catch Jen’s fist with his face.

Dirk flew down the hall, bounced twice, and crashed to a halt when he reached the far wall.

Damien straightened his uniform. “That’s why.”

Jen turned her furious gaze on Donk. Dim as he was, Donk had brains enough to make himself scarce. He ran to collect his cousin as fast as his soul-force-enhanced legs could carry him.

When they’d gone Jen relaxed. “You okay?”

Damien nodded. “I figured you’d be back in a hurry. Funny, they didn’t seem so interested in fighting two on two.”

Jen snorted. “Those two aren’t interested in anything resembling a fair fight. Are you good to go to training on your own?”

“Sure. I doubt those two will bother me for a while.”

Jen scowled. “If they do I won’t go so easy on them.”