She placed a firm hand on his shoulder. Her arms, he noted, were also patterned with knotwork, wrist to elbow. And there seemed to be something he couldn't quite make out on her shoulders and upper arms, as well. Incredible, incredible. He'd seen tattoos before, but Asenath seemed to have gone past that, transforming herself into a new kind of being entirely.

"You have precisely five more seconds to gawk," she said wryly. "Any longer, and I'll know you're a witless mooncalf and give you over to the Wild Hunt. Lord Keir would snatch you back up in an instant."

He snapped his mouth shut and stared at the ground. Staring was rude, after all. Even in a less extraordinary situation, it was rude. Here, he didn't know what consequences it might carry.

"Hmph. Maybe you're trainable after all." A good-humored tone leavened her gruff words. "Jael! I'll need your help molding this lump of clay. See him to my workroom, would you? You can start briefing him a little, and get him prepped. I'll meet you there in an hour."

Jael... he guessed it was Jael... turned out to be a whipcord-thin young man with a tousled mop of auburn hair. He wore a pair of tattered jeans so worn they were white in places, and no shirt. The thick steel rings gleaming in his nipples might have shocked Dennis on any other day, but after seeing Mason and Asenath, they were almost tame. When he reached out a hand to help Dennis to his feet, he noticed that his wrist was tattooed with an amazingly realistic image of an iron shackle. Was this what lay ahead for him?

Jael led Dennis up a rocky path, past what looked like an old lighthouse. "So, Headmistress Chloe assigned you to Asenath. That's kind of unusual, you know."

"Oh. Is it.... um, I don't know what to call you." Dennis' tongue felt thick in his mouth, like it always did when he didn't know what to say.

"Jael, just Jael. You don't need to use an honorific with Seniors. You are expected to obey us, thought. Within reason." He grinned, an amiable expression so normal that Dennis nearly could have wept with relief. "And Instructors, well... you do whatever an Instructor tells you, and you don't ask questions."

"How do I tell, I mean, how can I know who's a Senior, and who's an Instructor? And what's 'within reason'?"

"Well. You, and the other two who came over on the boat, and most of the others at the Academy, are students. You can tell who's a student, `cuz students are always naked. Seniors, well, Seniors wear different things, depending on which Instructor they're bound to. Like Mary Elizabeth, she's one of Headmistress Chloe's Honor students, they all wear those school uniform things, and Lord Keir's Hunt all wear sandals and those rag getups. You'll figure it all out soon enough." He held out his wrist. "This is Asenath's mark. Oh... Asenath doesn't use an honorific, either. Just so you know." He grinned again.

"Is that her real name? Why does everyone have such weird names around here?" It had already slipped out before he realized how dumb it sounded.

"Well, you students don't really need names. Some students wind up with little nicknames, but it's not, like, official or anything. When you get made Senior, your Instructor gives you a name."

"So if I make Senior, Asenath is gonna change my name?"

"Well, it wouldn't necessarily be Asenath." Jael led Dennis through the heavy front doors of what looked like a fort, or a castle. "She's in charge of you preliminary training... that just means that she's going to be overseeing you until she thinks you're ready to go into the dorms with the rest of the students." They climbed a flight of narrow, wooden stairs. "Most of your training will probably wind up being handled by Seniors, but you're likely to work with at least a couple of the Instructors, maybe most of them. Maybe even all of `em."

"How many are there?"

"Ten. But The Eldest doesn't do much training, and Headmistress Chloe doesn't usually bother with new students once she's admitted them and given them their primary assignments." He opened a solid-looking wooden door at the end of a long hallway at the top of the stairs. "And this is Asenath's workroom."

The room was paneled in some dark wood... the exact color was hard to tell, though. The bulb in the ceiling fixture was blue. The high, slanting ceiling looked like stone. The floor was covered with a soft, plush rug that felt soothing on Dennis' battered bare feet. One wall was dominated by shelves, cabinets, and a stainless steel sink. A low, backless couch dominated the opposite wall. In the center of the room was an examining table, unconventional in the it was fitted with ankle restraints on the stirrups, and there was a steel bar at the head, also with attached restraints. The top was padded with what looked like black terrycloth.

"Ok, up on the table."

Dennis blinked like a deer caught in headlights. Jael thought it was kind of cute. But not cute enough to risk Asenath's displeasure if this guy wasn't ready when she showed up.

"Uh, is this one of those 'within reason' things?" Dennis tried to smile, but anxious as he was, it came out as more of a nervous grimace.

"This is direct orders from Asenath. So shut up and lie down on the table."

And really, there was no arguing with that. And the examining table was surprisingly comfortable. Dennis couldn't really muster any surprise as Jael buckled the wide leather restraints around his wrists and ankles. In a way, it made it easier. Since struggling wouldn't make a difference, what point was there in being afraid? Confined and powerless, he could relax a little, waiting.

Jael's next action, however, was a surprise. He fetched a dark plastic bottle and a folded square of gauze from one of the cabinets. As soon as he'd opened the bottle, Dennis caught a whiff of a sharp, medicinal odor. Jael wet down the gauze and began coating Dennis' skin with deft, gentle motions.

"What are you doing?"

"This is just disinfectant."

"But I'm not cut anywhere."