Just in time. The door was jerked open and three girls clattered in, all braids and exaggerated drama. "Two hours," fumed Lydia to her companions, thrusting her books back on their shelf. Tall and golden, she'd be pretty but for a nose permanently elevated. "Two hours they keep us sitting around, and then sent back without a word of apology. My father will hear of this." "Does he rank your education above the defence of the realm?" asked Helena Renton, a droopy blonde following the three into the dormitory they shared. "Surely it must have occurred to you that every competent mage in Tyrland has better things to do right now than prepare you for your Summoning." Since Helena topped Lydia on the social scale that was Lydia's be-all and end-all, the girl only tossed her head, then glared at the last student to enter the room. "If they're so keen on defence, they're being very lax," she said, with deep meaning. "If they're really hunting for supporters of the Black Queen, why are they ignoring the obvious?" The obvious was the last of the students who shared the room, a tall girl with fine but colourless hair and daggers for nails.
