experience. And they would damn well dance in the front.
"No, Madene," said Freetrick. " That's the way it works. New dancers go in the front, because they need the encouragement . Us old hats don't need people watching us to know how good we are."
"What letter?" said Kendrick, "This smells wrong."
Madene was not to be distracted. "But Jubal dances…" she shook her hands, searching for the word, "like a stinking goof, Freetrick."
" Rooster is a goofy step, " said Freetrick, shooting another glance at Istain. General policy wasn't the only reason he had put Madene and Kendrick in the back for this particular dance, but he had no desire at all to say.
"Yeah," said Madene, "not my favorite."
"I agree," said Zathara, lying, Freetrick knew, with absolute-seeming conviction " I prefer the Bull , myself. " That was flattery aimed at Kendrick, whose stocky body and quick, solid movements were a perfect match for the martial dance's steps.
Kendrick nodded and Madene made a sort of compromising head-bobble. " Okay, " she said.
" And the Bull is our anchor dance, " said Freetrick, " here. " He swung his bag around and dug into it. " I made a list of the stuff we'll need for the show. "
" Of course you did, " said Istain.
" And I have the dance schedule and blocking diagrams in there. Here, let me show you. " Freetrick reached into his bag and pulled his palm-sized magic mirror out from among the books and scholarly detritus. " Just a sec… " He mumbled a quick prayer to the God of Words and scratched a few runes onto the mirror's smooth surface. It shivered in his hands and began to shine with the soft, blue light of its start-up screen. Freetrick scratched at the surface with a fingernail until he found the right document, then handed the mirror to Madene.
"But as I was saying," Istain said as Madene scrolled through Freetrick's notes, "I think it's a theme party. Oh for Truth's sake, Kendrick, stop glaring at me like that."
"Freetrick got a letter," Zathara said. She handed it to Kendrick, who reached out, looked down, and then jerked backward as if from a live rattle snake.
" 'The Kingdoms of Evil'?" He demanded, " Skrea ? Where did you get this?"
"It's a joke, Kendrick," said Istain. "Calm down."
"A very stupid joke, if so." Kendrick scowled. "Who the hell do they think they are?" His deep-set eyes flicked up to Istain. "Some down-hill city-slicker who's never seen an ogre in his life."
" As if you have," Istain said.
Kendrick growled. Istain was a local boy like Freetrick, a Rationalist born far west of the Bulwark Mountains, but Kendrick was from Between, and he took certain things seriously.
"Maybe it's an awareness campaign," Zathara said.
" You think that's likely?" Istain prodded the skin-like paper in Kendrick's hands. " I don't think Eldritch administration gives out hand-lettered invitations written on parchment ."
"What are you looking at?" It was a habit of Madene's to zone out of a conversation, then expect to be informed about what she missed. Freetrick would have been more annoyed by the tendency except that it probably helped make conversations with Istain more comprehensible.
"A letter from Freetrick's stalker," said Istain. "We're hoping to lift finger-prints off it."
"What?" Madene took the letter from Zathara. " Oh . The Kingdoms of Evil? It's a stupid joke or something."
"Judgment freaking pronounced," muttered Istain.
"It'd better not be from any campus organization," said Kendrick, glancing darkly at the student activities office on the opposite side of the union's central rotunda, "or they'll hear from me."
" Sweet God of Words, please!" Istain said , "Just open the damn thing."
"Fine," Freetrick ran his thumbnail under the seal. "Okay…Looks like there's another envelope in here. Ah, and a folded piece of paper. Or…" he pulled out the square of thin, flexible material, "…skin?"
"Vellum," said Madene. "It's called vellum."
Part of her and Istain's mutual problem was that both