“Why do I get the feeling that if you give me a hard time, I'll tell all of our year-mates your family nickname is Meathead?”

“We could mate. In a year our nestlings would be large enough to mob anyone we like...Should I begin to court you? Do you like grubs or ants better?...I will be here. In case you change your mind about mating.”

“Why do you look like cheese, Beka?" Nestor asked me quietly. "We've got help."I was too flummoxed to tell him I hadn't expected help to come so fast. Miracles aren't for the likes of me, didn't Nestor know that? Only the nobility gets them.”

“I well knew the rules to follow with our training Dogs: Speak when you're spoken to. Keep out of the way. Obey all orders. Get killed on your own time.”

“Ah," Gary said dreamily. " 'Free time.' I've heard about that. Don't fool yourself, Fire-Top. What with extra hours of lessons for punishments, and the extra work you get every day, free time is an illusion. It's what you get when you die and the gods reward you for a life spent working from dawn until midnight. We all face up to it sooner or later--the only real free time you get here is what my honored sire chooses to give you, when he thinks you have earned it." "And he doesn't give it to you at night," Alex put in. "He gives it to you when you've been here awhile, on Market Day and sometimes a morning or afternoon all to yourself. But never at night. At night you study. During the day you study. In your sleep--”

“George looked at her for a long moment. Finally he replied, "And why do you find it so hard to think someone might like you and want to do things for you?”

“Not one word," Kel warned. "Tobe and I have reached an understanding." Neal's lips twitched. "Why do I feel you did most of the understanding.”