Free Rebel Elements (Seals of the Duelists) by Jasmine Giacomo Page A

Shawnash Wind Instructor, and Pim Aalthoven, the Waarden Wood Instructor. All six instructors bore tattoos on the backs of both hands.
    The door opened in the back of the room, and two women glided in. The older woman, her hair bound back in a long, straight ponytail, followed the younger to one of the back benches. Bayan swallowed, staring at the younger woman. She carried herself with perfect poise, and her face, with a pointed chin and wide dark eyes, reminded him of a more serious Imee.
    “And these—thank you for joining us, Kiwani—are your three meditation instructors, Greer, Jurgen, and Rina.” Headmaster Langlaren waved a hand in turn to the plump blond man who had opened the door earlier, then to an older man with a curly gray tail of hair and age-spotted skin, and finally, to a lithe, attractive younger woman with brown ringlets. No tattoos on their hands, Bayan noted.
    “They’ll begin your first meditative classes tomorrow, along with spell practice classes from the element instructors, and Imperial History from Joos de Rood.” He indicated a slender man with a shock of brown hair ringing his balding pate. The rest of his hair formed a frizzy tail at the back of his neck, and he gave the new trainees a crisp nod.
    “In addition to your classes, you will occasionally be assigned chores around campus. These may be in the kitchens, out and about on the grounds with Groundsmaster Gerrolt Visser—” A wiry, older man with frizzy gray hair briefly stood and waved an untattooed hand. “Or they may be specific tasks assigned to you by any of your other instructors. We are all servants of the empire, and as such it behooves us to serve ourselves by keeping our home and training areas clean and safe at all times.
    “Now, most of you new trainees have had Doc Theo match you to a blood crystal, so if you’ve done that already, you’re free to head down the hall to retrieve your textbooks and workout gear.” A general buzz rose as students shuffled from the bench sections and filed down the hallway to pick up their supplies.
    “Thank you,” Headmaster Langlaren continued over the din, “and sints guard you all.” He stepped down toward Bayan and Calder and waved over a tall, gray-haired man with a long nose who wore a brown tabard with two linked circles embroidered on the breast. “Trainees,” Langlaren addressed his newest students, “this is the head physician on campus, Theo Willemsen. He’s one of our several chanters from the Temple of Ten Thousand Harmonies, and he or one of his staff sits in on every arena class in case of severe injury. I’ll leave you in his excellent hands.” The headmaster nodded and moved away.
    “I’m glad to meet you-all.” Theo smiled down at them.
    Bayan wondered who else he was talking to; he and Calder were the only two there.
    The physician fished a collection of three finger-long, clear crystals from the bag at his hip. “You-all know which of these is yours?”
    Calder sucked in his breath and nodded. “I’m Northern Common.” He indicated his cheek.
    Theo’s brows drew together in concern. “Looks like it hurt a fair bit. How long did you have to wait?”
    “Three days.”
    Now it was Theo’s turn to hiss. “Awful sorry to hear that. Glad you’ve pulled through, though.” He turned to Bayan. “You ever been healed by a chanter before?”
    “No.”
    “And you’re from Balanganam?”
    Bayan nodded, noticing with discomfort that several students seemed to be listening to his conversation.
    “Wayl,” the chanter drawled, “belike you’ve got the same blood type as Pinams do, but I can’t go taking chances with any of my patients.” He pulled a small knife from a sheath on his belt.
    Bayan’s eyes widened.
    Theo smiled and offered the handle to Bayan. “Just need a little nick, so’s I can test these crystals and see which one works on you.”
    Bayan shifted the pitcher’s pot to one hand and slowly took the knife, glancing at Calder for