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was in one of those, though his group was in a set of the less-favored seats. Lan hesitated, then took an unoccupied chair at the end of one of the tables. By the time he got started on his lukewarm meal, the students at the head of the table were already devouring their second and third portions.
    Across from Lan sat a very plain, lumpish girl who kept her head down and didn’t look up from her plate. Next to him was a nervous boy much younger than Lan, eleven or twelve, perhaps, who bolted his food so quickly Lan was afraid he was going to choke, and vanished from the table, casting backward glances over his shoulder as he scuttled away.
    Shortly Lan found out why he had been in such a hurry to leave. One of the oldest boys, a square-jawed, stereotypically handsome specimen of about eighteen with crisply cut dark-blond hair and indolent dark-blue eyes, strolled down from his exalted seat and surveyed the lesser beings at the lowest end of the table with his hands clasped behind his back, looking for all the world as if he was surveying the offerings at a horse fair.
    He took his time about it. Lan decided that discretion was the proper tactic to pursue, and quietly continued to eat, ignoring the young man’s arrogant gaze. He could feel eyes burning a hole between his shoulder blades, though, and he didn’t like the feeling in the least.
    The chattering at this end of the table quieted, and now Lan sensed that there were a great many more eyes on him.
    â€œSo, this is the new one.” A hand fell on Lan’s shoulder, and he restrained the impulse to slap it away. “I hear they put you with the babies, boy. What do you have to say for yourself?”
    Lan kept silent, but the arrogant one was joined by three or four of his peers, lesser copies out of the same mold, who rose from their seats and gathered around him. The biggest of them grabbed Lan’s chin and wrenched his head around.
    â€œSpeak when you’re spoken to, country boy,” his harasser said in a deceptively pleasant voice. “Sixth Formers are the masters here; the rest of you are scum. The sooner you get that into your head, the better it will be for you.”
    â€œDon’t argue with him!” the homely girl whispered harshly, and the older boy suddenly turned on her.
    â€œDid you speak out of turn, Froggy?” he asked, with a savage, joyful smile.
    The girl shrank down, looking very like a frightened frog. Her olive skin went pale, and she hid her overlarge eyes under the thick, coarse fringe of her dark hair. “He’s new, sir,” she whispered miserably. “No one’s told him the rules, sir. He can’t know what to do if he doesn’t know the rules, sir.”
    Lan’s first attacker took pity on her. “Quite right, Froggy. We won’t have our ladies paint you today. Must tell the new one the rules, then we can flog him if he disobeys.”
    The second one pulled Lan up out of his seat by his collar, then knocked his feet out from under him with a sweep of his leg. The rest of the oldest students had gathered around by then, and they howled with laughter as Lan went to his hands and knees. Lan bit back a yelp of pain, but his eyes watered. Another grabbed a handful of Lan’s hair and yanked, forcing his face up so that he looked the leader full in the face.
    â€œScrawny, undersized,” said the leader meditatively. “We’ve already got one Rabbit, so that’s out of the question. But you—you’re decidedly scrubby. I believe I will call you Scrub. Now listen well, Scrub.”
    Lan was red with fury, his insides churning; his knees ached and his head felt as if they’d already torn his hair out. He started to say something, then bit back the words. This was not the time to get into a fight. He was dreadfully outnumbered, and he wouldn’t stand a chance.
    â€œThe Sixth Formers are the rightful rulers here. You will address us all as