“However,” Instructor Lauer monotoned, “that’s far from saying preparation and study is useless to a first-time delver. No two runs are the same, but certain frameworks be applied to aid the neophyte in a successful dungeon run.”

  Natalie hadn’t thought it possible, but Instructor Lauer was making delving sound b. The dungeon was the most incredible phenomena on the p, a byrinth of infinite plexity and variance, a structure described as se by some schors, and allegedly sprawled beh the entire world. The riches pulled from its depths fueled half of society as they k. There were beasts hidden in the deeper floors that could destroy cities if they somehow surfaced. And Instructor Lauer?

  He was making it b.

  Natalie’s head slowly deed toward her desk, eyes fluttering as her desperate efforts to stay awake faltered. The world went fuzzy, then—

  Then Jordan kicked her ankle, and Natalie jerked up, blinking in disorientation. Jordan studiously wrote in her notebook, not even gng over, her passive waking-up of Natalie so ingrained she might not have realized she’d do. Jordan was the only reason Natalie hadn’t failed a grade, back at Tinford. Not because Natalie was stupid, but because she seriously couldn’t keep still. s were torture to her. And three hours a day? Less than high school, but still the worst thing Natalie could imagine.

  “For example,” the buzzing, impossible-to-focus on noise tinued, “the study of monsters. While your dunge course will be ed with the intricacies of traps, floor youts, and on enters, we will focus on the dungeon’s inhabitants, first and foremost. Much be ascertained from a monster’s appearance, and a formal [I], even more so.”

  It wasn’t that the material was b. Just, everyone khis. As in, everyone everyohey were truly starting from the ground up when it came to the dungeon—not taking any material franted, not even stuff six year olds would know. Whiatalie supposed was fair, because as Harper had pointed out during orientation, some students joie from even stranger circumstahan Natalie. There were lots of myths to dispel, or holes to fill, just to be safe. But that didn’t make it not torture.

  “But let’s start with general cssifications, first. sider—“

  A bell went off in the distance, interrupting Instructor Lauer’s monologue. He id-sentence, and ohe eg noise silenced, said, “It seems we’ve run out of time for the day. Your instructor will be in shortly. Remember, pages sixteen through twenty nine, by tomorrow.”

  The enormous lecture hall came to life with chairs scraping against the ground. Natalie’s css was in this same hall—as many of the students’ was—so she stayed seated.

  She groaned and thumped her head onto the desk. “I’m not gonna make it, Jay.”

  Jordan patted her back sympathetically. “There, there. Just two more csses.”

  “Every day,” Natalie groaned.

  “It is pretty b,” Liz piped in. “I mean, how’s he even do it? No iions, just one long string of bh, bh, bh.”

  Liz had, it seemed, ied herself into Natalie’s group. Natalie had no clue why. Not that she minded. Just, a literal, actual princess, making friends with the three of them? Why?

  To the right of Jordan, Sofia leaned backward in her seat, bringing herself into Natalie’s view. “If you ’t focus on the lecture, I’d reend reading the textbook. That’s what I’ve been doing. It’s much more engaging. And more importantly, informative.”

  “Only you could think reading from a text book is engaging,” Natalie sneered.

  “No, she’s right,” Jordan said idly. “There’s a pendium in the back detailing onsters. It’s fairly iing.”

  Natalie experienced a brief bout of dissonance: Sofia being a nerd was annoying, but Jordan? Well, on her, it was endearing. Fortunately, she was saved from itting to a response by Liz:

  “So, what are you guys up to after css? You going to the semester kick-off soirée?”

  “Huh?” Kick-off soirée? “Wait, is that the party at the healer’s guild?”

  “Yeah.” Liz leaned frinning. “Apparently, it’s been six years sihere wasn’t a casualty. It’s supposed to be crazy.”

  “Casualty?” Jordan asked, armed.

  “I thought they had the healer’s guild host it so things didn’t get out of hand,” Natalie said. That was what Sammy said, at least. “Aren’t you guys supposed to be the responsible ones?”

  “Hey,” Liz scolded. “You shouldn’t stereotype people.”

  “You were happy about being a stereotype,” Natalie pointed out. She’d had Natalie guess her role, then been pleased when she had.

  “Doesn’t matter.” Liz pouted. “We’re not always responsible, okay? We know how to cut loose, too!”

  Liz’s pout wasn’t doing much to help her cims. She looked way too i.

  “There’s no way there’s casualties,” Natalie said.

  “Guess we’ll have to find out. So, are you going?”

  Natalie g Jordan—and Sofia, seeing how she was in line of sight—who both shrugged at her.

  “I am,” Natalie said, turning back. “With someone else, though. Got invited.”

  “You did? Who?”

  “Sammy? From the tank’s guild.”

  Liz didn’t seemed the name. She turo Sofia and Jordan. “And you two?”

  “Probably not,” Jordan answered. That didn’t e as a surprise. She wasn’t a sociable person—loud, chaotic parties weren’t her se.

  “I might,” Sofia said. “I’m undecided.”

  Liz, naturally, seized the opportunity. “You should! You e with me. Ana’s gonhere. And Johanna—she’s in our barracks too. You’ll like her.”

  Sofia nodded slowly. Natalie could see the gears turning in her head. She and Sofia weren’t friends, but they did, unfortunately, know each other well. Sofia washusiastic about a party, but she reized the merit of meeting Ana—a potential future teammate—and other promi political figures, sidering Liz’s family name.

  Sofia was like Jordan in that way, her brain always ing over implications and strategies, even in normal life. Which was a good thing, Natalie guessed. A desirable trait in a delver. Natalie was more of a ‘in-the-moment’ thinker. She had Jordan for the other stuff.

  “That sounds fun,” Sofia said eventually. “When is it?”

  “Eight,” Liz said, seeming genuinely excited at Sofia accepting. “Starts at seven, teically, but we ’t be too early. We’ll look me. That’s a death sente Te.”

  “It is?”

  “That’s what my brother says. And he would know. He’s the king of meness.”

  Sofia gave a bemused ugh. “Eight it is, then.”