Alara woke with a start. The room was silent and cool, the fire having burnt out in the hearth. With a panicked jolt, she jumped over to the window and threw back the wool curtain. The sky outside was gray with dawn light.

“Shit!” Alara cursed.

A grumble behind her made her head swivel and she saw Quenti lying in a pile of blankets near the smoking fire. Adelmo lay on his cot across the room, snoring lightly.

“We are in so much trouble! Get up, quickly. We need to get back to the dorms before morning meal and classes.”

Alara quickly threw off her fighting outfit and slipped back into her red tunic. It was still damp and had turned cold in the air overnight. She suppressed a shiver, ignoring the chill in her limbs.

Quenti still sat in her impromptu bed, legs stretched and hair disheveled. Alara’s eyes blazed with fresh anger at Quenti’s calm face.

“El’dyo, get up!” She hissed. “We’re not supposed to be out in Cielo at this time of day.”

Quenti gave a long sigh. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

Giving a small wave to the snoring form of Adelmo, Alara and Quenti ducked from the house. The city was just starting to wake from its slumber. Some of the houses were smoking from the morning fires and a few vendors wandered around, on their way to start the day.

Alara knew where they were going. She had been out to Adelmo’s more times than she could count and could probably find her way back to her room blindfolded. But she wanted to be careful, knowing that even this early there activity stirring in the Haven: cooks waking up to head to the kitchens, cleaning staff, and probably even a star magite or two trying to get a jump on their studies.

At one point, Alara heard a sound around the next corner, and she threw out an arm to stop Quenti. The other girl shot Alara an annoyed look, but stood quietly as they waited for the person to pass.

They were only a few passages away from their room when Alara heard the distinct sound of voices coming toward them. She looked around, but since the passage they were in was so long and thin, and there was no where to hide.

Councilwoman Lena Cruz and Mitteo—when had he gotten back from the mission?—rounded the corner speaking quietly to themselves. Mitteo noticed them first, his eyes widening in recognition. Senya Cruz followed his gaze and her eyes landed on Alara. Her face creased into a deep frown.

“Alara.” She turned and looked Quenti up and down. “I assume you are Quenti, then. Neither of you ladies should be wandering about this time of morning.” She exchanged a look with Mitteo who only stood by silently. Then she gave a sharp jerk of her head. “Come.”

There was no doubt who she was talking to them as well. Alara ducked her head and followed, shooting an unacknowledged glare at Quenti. The other girl was finally looking a bit pale and anxious for the first time since arriving.

Alara’s stomach dropped as they rounded a few more passages and came into Senya Cruz’s office.

She motioned for Alara and Quenti to enter. “You wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She turned and left, Mitteo still trailing behind her. Alara rolled her eyes at this. Mitteo was always following after Senya Cruz like a trained puppy dog. She had to assume the only reason he hadn’t failed out yet himself was the fact that he had one of the Council member’s in his pocket. Alara may not have known how to use her magia, but at least she was a competent fighter.

Alara sat tentatively in a chair by Senya Cruz’s desk. Her back was rigid as she tried to come up with an excuse for why they had been out so early in the morning. Quenti, on the other hand, wandered around the room, her fingers tracing the books and papers haphazardly thrown about.

“Stop, snooping. You’re going to get us in even more trouble.”

Quenti rolled her eyes, “Calm down. I’m just looking.” She ran her finger along a particularly large tome that was balanced on the edge of the large desk. “History of the Bruya Wars: An Analysis of Both Sides. Sounds fascinating!” she said, though her tone indicated it was anything but. She flipped through a few of the pages before slamming it closed again.

Alara watched with nervous eyes. The waiting game was starting to wear on her. She was almost relieved when Senya Cruz’s office door opened again. Quenti stood up straight and she sidled over to the chair next to Alara as the councilwoman crossed the room silently. She took her seat across from the two magites and did not speak for several long seconds, eyes sharply moving between Quenti and Alara.

Quenti remained stiff, her own eyes focused on the woman across from her. And then, after a moment, Alara noticed Quenti’s shoulders suddenly relax and her jaw tighten, as if she had seen something in Senya Cruz’s black eyes and made a decision.

“So, ladies, would you like to explain where you were last night?”

Neither of them spoke. Alara’s throat felt dry and her mind swirled with lame excuses.

“Alara,” Quenti finally cut in, “was just giving me a tour of the Haven and Cielo in the evening. We got turned around, which was totally my fault, and ended up in Cielo after dark.” Quenti’s voice was calm and her face held no hint of a lie. “We ran into Adelmo and he offered to house us for the night rather than have us wandering around after curfew.”

Senya Cruz’s eyes flickered between the two of them. Alara felt the blood drain from her face, but she didn’t flinch when Senya Cruz’s eyes bore into hers.

“Hmm. I won’t report you for punishment this time. But you should both know better than to be wandering around when you shouldn’t be.” Her eyes settled on Quenti again and her voice was sharp. “If we catch you out and about again after curfew, the punishment will be severe. We take these things seriously. Do not get caught again.”

She paused for a long moment as Alara and Quenti’s heads both nodded in agreement, her sharp brown eyes still focused on Quenti.

Without warning her face shifted and she smiled brightly. “Well, off you both go. You don’t want to be late to classes, and morning meal will be starting soon.”

Alara practically jumped from her chair, rushing out the door before Senya Cruz could change her mind. Quenti followed at her heels. She was being uncharacteristically lenient, but Alara didn’t care—Senya Cruz was strict, and the fact that they got off with just a slap on the wrist was something she didn’t want to jeopardize.

If she kept her head down and made sure not to get in the way of any other councilmembers this week, maybe she could avoid getting kicked out of the Haven altogether.

“Who was that?” Quenti asked as they rounded the corner away from Cruz’s office.

“That is Senya Cruz, another member on the council.”

“Like Emaru?” Quenti said.

“Senya Emaru,” Alara corrected. “And yes. Only Senya Cruz is a councilmember that you do not want to get on the wrong side of.”

Quenti didn’t ask anything else as Alara practically stormed back through the tunnels to her—their—room. Quenti even managed to look a bit on edge—a change from the complete nonchalant attitude she had held since coming to the Haven. Perhaps she was finally starting to understand the gravity of their situation. This was a step in the right direction.

Maybe Alara could actually get some peace back.