Free Blood Reunion by Connie Suttle Page B

his clan. Calebert picked at a loose thread on his vest for a moment, before repairing it with power.
    "Do you think we shouldn't try to train her?" Glendes asked, tapping his fingers together. Calebert recognized the gesture—Glendes was agitated.
    "No, I didn't say that. She has ability. I'm just not sure it's being directed properly."
    "When was the last time you spoke with her?"
    "Today."
    "Then give it a few more days. If she doesn't improve, I will talk with her." Glendes dropped his hands. That was his way of telling Calebert the interview was over. Calebert rose, dipped his head respectfully and left Glendes' study.
    * * *
    Nissa sat at a corner table in the family dining hall, away from anyone else. Her father was working late again, as he usually did. Grandfather Raffian was working too, and there wasn't anyone else near her age to have dinner with or talk to. She picked at her chicken dish. Calebert had gotten onto her again today. He couldn't understand why it took her so long to clean the rust from the daggers and swords. Nissa didn't know, either. He'd said to make them look like new. That command was what she concentrated on when she worked on them.
    They gleamed as if newly made when she handed them in for inspection, but quality wasn't what they were looking for, apparently. Nissa wished for her mother in times like these, and wished that her father hadn't limited her mindspeech ability. She and her brothers all had it, but it had been muted so they couldn't get into trouble by using it at inappropriate times. If Nissa could have, she'd have sent mindspeech to her mother already.
    "Don't forget the report that's due tomorrow." Her schoolmaster, Fourth-Tier Wizard Moris said as he passed her table. His words caused Nissa to slump over her dinner—she was only half done with the report and now she'd have to stay up as late as possible and turn in what might be substandard work.
    She'd become more and more frustrated in the past few days—she knew Calebert was dissatisfied with the amount of time it took to finish what she was handed and three more daggers waited tomorrow. She was afraid she would only get one done and that wouldn't do. The royal house on Invardine was set to crown a new king and they'd dragged all the old ceremonial daggers from storage, asking Grey House to clean off the rust so they could be worn at the coronation. The deadline was approaching, Nissa was the one given the assignment and she was falling horribly behind.
    * * *
    "Look—the baby's made mud pies." Gren took full advantage of the fact that there weren't any adults around when he taunted Toff. Laral, Toff's former friend, stood behind Gren, sneering at Toff. One of the others—another Half with very little power, also stood behind Gren, laughing at his words. Toff was covered in drying mud—he'd dug up more clay for Mother Fern.
    Unfortunately, there wasn't a pond or stream near the old streambed so Toff could wash the muck away. Toff's cheeks were pink as he ignored Gren, carrying his two heavy canvas bags of clay past the bully and his two new sidekicks. Who knew that Laral would turn on him this way?
    "Hey, we're talking to you, eunuch." Gren reached out and poked Toff on the shoulder. Toff sidestepped and kept walking, although his temper was rising. Gren had never put a hand on him before—he'd always depended on Haldis and Sark to do it for him. He wondered what this meant—and also wondered about Laral and Clover—the other Halves who'd joined forces with Gren.
    "Look, he's running away, just like the scared little baby he is." Gren's words and Clover's laugh followed Toff as he made his way toward Mother Fern's pottery shed. Toff's shoulders drooped and he breathed a heavy sigh as he trudged along.
    * * *
    "Get in here—we need the roots taken out of that and what you brought in last time sifted," Mother Fern grumbled as Toff walked into the pottery shed. "Tiearan is going to force the rain tonight and I want the