I faced some challenges the first morning of class. All students were required to make their own beds. I did my best.

Gerald sighed, and shook his head. "No, no. Let me show you. We don't have housekeepers here to do it for us."

"So I'm aware."

"It's not a gibe, it's a fact," he said.

Once the bed was presentable, he checked the time. He paled. "Five minutes. Damn, let's hurry."

We raced downstairs, across the square outside. Gym was our first session, and it lay on the other side of campus. Shoving the gymnasium doors open, we joined the group of young men within, panting for breath. It was more than shameful to be late. A penalty would also earn Father's scorn.

The clock tower struck time, and the professor called us to attention. After a proper introduction and roll call, he led us to the locker rooms. We changed quickly, then gathered on the field. A standard warm-up routine followed.

"As you all know, you're required to represent Chamberlayne in at least one sport. Line up, gentlemen."

When my turn came, I announced my preferred choice. "I'd like to sign up for tennis, please."

"I'm sorry, but tennis isn't being offered this term," said the senior student at the recruiting desk. "We still have positions in rugby, wrestling, or rowing crew."

Gerald and I chose the latter.

Our team met at the edge of the lake. The racing shells and oars rested on the bank beside the captain--none other than Vance Prynne.

"We'll start with the basics," he said. "There's twelve of us, so let's form three groups."

I ended up with Gerald, Vance, and Chester Armitage.

"This ought to be interesting," Vance said, looking me up and down as we climbed into the shell.

I took up my oars, and we pushed off. I'd often rowed across the lake at Silvring Hall. It was one of my favorite pastimes. However, coordinating with a team was harder than I expected. What was worse, Vance pointed me out several times.

"Come now, Blane, sweeping isn't difficult. Keep the rhythm."

My frustration was at its peak when we reached a clearing in the trees.

The sound of many female voices and the shriek of a coach's whistle split the morning haze. A dozen girls sparred in a field hockey match further up the bank. The clash of their shouts and sticks rang across the water. A moment later, the ball flew in a high arc toward us. It landed with a splash, and floated just offshore.

"Wait a moment," Vance said, as a group of girls ran after it.

We paused in our stroke, drifting closer to the wayward ball.

A slender girl with a honey-brown bob pulled off her shoes and stockings. She waded in, as her friends laughed. With a determined expression, she reached for the ball with her hockey stick.

Vance watched her, grinning. "Have you lost something, Miss Lovejoy?" he shouted.

I tensed in recognition. Could it be the same girl I'd met in Moskloberg seven years ago?

She flashed a mischievous smile. "What's it to you? I suggest you get rowing."

Vance hooked her stick with his oar. "I'll retrieve it for you," he said. "There's no need to drown yourself."

Miss Lovejoy lifted her chin. "I don't need your help, Vance." She rushed forward and grabbed the ball, immersed to her chest, and held it aloft before him. "There, you see? I can handle things myself."

Vance clucked his tongue. "Yes, but now you're drenched. Allowing a little chivalry can prevent such unseemly encounters."

Her eyes were a brilliant golden green, wide and endearing within her heart-shaped face. Beyond a doubt, it was Tamsin. She was as beautiful as I remembered. Water dripping, she rushed back to shore. She squeezed the excess out of her uniform shirt, and retrieved her shoes. Her gaze was triumphant.

"Don't assume so much," she said.

A whistle blew, and all the girls ran back to their game.

Vance stared after Tamsin with obvious longing.

"Is that Irving Lovejoy's daughter?" Gerald asked.

"The oldest of his five children," said Vance. "And by far the most headstrong."

Gerald whistled. "I've never seen her before. She's gorgeous."

"Don't get any ideas, Forsyth," Vance said, with a sideways grin. "She's spoken for."

After gym, I said farewell to Gerald. My next class was Worlds History. I chose a desk in the front row. Within minutes, other students settled around. I gave no thought to the person directly behind me, until the professor called her name.

"Miss Tamsin Lovejoy?"

"Here, sir."

Her voice crept along my neck, prickling my skin. I knew many members of the Lovejoy family had attended Chamberlayne. Yet I never expected to meet Tamsin again. Would she remember me? A memory of the beautiful, charming girl who'd been taken from me burned vivid in my mind. I'd never forgotten her, ever since we'd met beside the Kaezer's fountain.

"Mr. Silas Blane?" The professor called my name.

Tamsin coughed behind me, and I froze.

"Mr. Blane?" The professor scanned the room, waiting.

"Here, sir," I said, raising my stylus to get his attention.

Several students laughed at my slow response, including a giggle from Tamsin. I couldn't bring myself to look at her. It was difficult to concentrate afterward. The lecture began with a course outline. Then we were given our first assignment, which I downloaded to my tablet.

"Dismissed," the professor said, as the tower chimed nine.

Amid all the hustle of departure, I waited. Never had I felt so torn. I wanted to say something to her, but Father had strictly ordered against it.

"Ahem." She tapped my shoulder.

I slowly turned around. Remain composed, I told myself. Always be a gentleman.

"Hello, Miss Lovejoy," I said. The moment I met her gaze, I was trapped. I'd had the same reaction years ago, as if every word stumbled out of my mouth, making me a fool.

"Hello, Silas. Or is it Duke? Last we met, your dog was bigger than you." She laughed, and stole my heart all over again.

"It's been a long time," I said. "What a pleasure to see you."

"Our parents would keel over if they witnessed this," she said. "But I can't bear to be rude. I'm not that kind of person, regardless of my family's associations." A blush colored her cheeks, matching the rose bow of her lips.

"Of course, Miss Lovejoy. I apologize for not greeting you sooner."

She waved a hand. "Never a worry. And please, call me Tamsin. All you colonials are so damn proper. I don't know how you can stand living in those stuffy, floating glass boxes of yours. It must get dreadfully boring."

I smiled, feeling sheepish. "When it's all one has known, such a box can be the entire world. But I understand your sentiment. Too many become locked inside, and it can be a sort of prison."

Her lashes lowered. "Such an interesting topic for conversation," she said. "I loathe to end it here. But, we only have three minutes to our next class. I hope you're a fast runner."

"Oh? Well, it wouldn't be the first time today."

We both scurried to our feet, gathering tablets and bags as hastily as we could.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"Of course...Tamsin." Addressing her so informally lifted my spirits, though I knew we could never be more than passing acquaintances. Our very names clashed in every channel of society. Everything from lawsuits to slander dotted our families' pasts.

In a world where all depended on status and origin, such as ours, one had to be cautious. A single mistake could linger for generations. It had happened many times over, in the century and a half since the off-world colonies were founded. Reputation was all-important when one lived in the floating glass boxes Tamsin mentioned. I reminded myself of this as I watched her sprint off to class.

Thoughts of her crept into my mind all afternoon. How humiliating, to be smitten with someone who should be my rival, and after only having met her twice in my life. I couldn't tell anyone. Appearances meant everything. I'd keep up a good show, and never let my true inclinations spoil a casual friendship. Also, Vance mentioned she was spoken for. Such a lovely girl would have beaus all about her. It was the perfect reason to maintain only polite regard.

At the day's end, I returned to my room, and shut the door. I collapsed on my bed and sighed, dropping my bags. So far, school was exhausting. And I still had homework to do. At this rate, I wouldn't have time to be distracted by girls. Specifically, Tamsin Lovejoy.

The doorknob clicked, unlocking. Gerald entered. "My friend, you look absolutely devastated," he said, laughing.

I rested my head on one palm. "I'd say that's an accurate observation."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." I stood, and stretched.

"Very well, then." He changed out of his uniform, and called a friend on his wristcom.

I browsed the Net for a while, following the latest stock reports. Blane Industries was up two percent, Lovejoy-Prynne close behind with one-point-seven. Things were on the rise for both of us.

"Pardon me, Silas," Gerald said, as he disconnected. "But I've a proposition for you."

"Certainly." I minimized the display app in my lenses.

"Our crew buddy, Chester, just invited us to a little social gathering this weekend. His cousin keeps a yacht docked on Lake Michigatt, just up the road from here. They're taking it for an evening sail. You ought to come. It'll loosen you up a bit." He tugged at my collar.

I shoved him in jest, and he laughed.

"Is it a weekend when we're free to venture off campus?" I asked.

"Of course. They wouldn't throw a party otherwise."

"I'll go."

"That's the spirit, my friend."

After I finished my homework, I went downstairs to the common rooms. Several boys nodded at me. I played an hour or two of billiards, and watched some holo-vision. Conversation became lively, with many jokes thrown about. An hour before bedtime, I retired, pleased that others were warming toward me. My success at this school--at anything in life, I'd learned--was to build a strong foundation. The upcoming party would hopefully expand it further, with new people to assess as potential allies.

All was well when I laid down for bed. Sleep came easily after the grueling day. Then, I dreamed. It was as if lightning surged through me, a bright bolt of lucidity ripping the veils of my mind asunder. Familiar music called my Sight. I knew it now--Knoseidtru. The bone song pulled me into its current.

When the motion settled, I lay face down on a seashore. I heard the crunch of toes upon the sand. Slender bare feet passed, walking gracefully toward the water. I looked up, and realized it was Tamsin. Her nude body glistened in the mist. Waves crashed, and she ran to meet them.

The vision changed, and the water darkened with blood.

"Wait," I yelled, racing after her.

It was too late. A huge crest rolled over, and swallowed her away. Blood stained the horizon, sea and sky, seeping around me. I looked about for any escape, but found none. The red stain rippled, becoming like fingers. It stroked my skin, almost pleading in its touch.

Pale bone rose through the gore-soaked sand--the ridges of ribs and spine, sharp teeth, sturdy legs, paws tipped with thick claws--and a weathered canine skeleton formed before me.

"Duke?"

As I spoke his name, the transformation quickened. Tawny fur, tail wagging, even the slobbery pink tongue took shape. Only his eyes were lost, the dark, empty sockets staring up with devotion.

"It's you." I fell to my knees, and wrapped my arms around him. "You're alive."

"Silas..." A voice shattered the dream, dragging me awake.

I came to, and found myself kneeling on the floor.

"Wake up." Gerald's apprehension tainted the shadows between us.

The box containing Duke lay nearby, the lid flung open. I held the skull tightly, and couldn't stop shivering.

"Let me help you up," Gerald said, taking my arm. "You were walking and talking in your sleep."

I pulled away, and latched the skull back into its case.

"Something's been off ever since the day you nearly blacked out at Silvring Hall," he said. "I don't believe it when you say everything's fine."

"I've had dreams," I said, sinking into bed. "Nightmares, really. But I'm learning to control them."

He frowned. "Controlling your nightmares? How is that possible?"

"There are things I can't explain," I said. "Please, don't tell anyone about this."

"Of course I won't." He scratched his head. "That skull...is it something to do with my mother's bone cult?"

"Yes. How much do you actually know about them?"

"Not much. Mother always kept it hidden from me. I saw a few things growing up. People wearing skeletal masks and costumes. Chanting. Sometimes, they cut themselves with weird bone knives. It always scared me when I was little, and I avoided them. Do you really find something of value in it?"

I sighed. "It's the traditional way of my family. The Jasters, that is. I've been summoned to follow their path, without even choosing it."

He glanced at my skull ring, where I kept it on the headboard at night. A slant of moonlight shone across it through the thin crack in the drapes.

"I understand," he said.