Page by Tamora Pierce

back, and she knew Lalasa fed him. Instead, Kel lit a stick of incense, asking the Great Mother to protect him, and resigned herself to her new companion.
    Jump’s snores roused Kel one November morning before dawn. She turned him on his side - he only snored on his back - and waited for sleep to return. It didn’t. Instead, she worried. She had plenty to worry about. Once they had the energy, she and her friends had begun their hall patrols, trying to catch Joren and his cronies harassing a first-year. They’d had no success. Neal and Cleon thought Joren’s crowd had given up. Kel wasn’t so sure. Her experience of bullies was that if they weren’t doing one thing, they were preparing something else.
    It’s no good fretting, Kel told herself sternly. Whatever it is, you’ll put a stop to it, that’s all. She just hoped she’d catch them soon. The suspense was like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
    As soon as she put Joren from her mind, she worried about practice. She had finally gotten used to the weight of the harness. Only a week ago she had started to hit the quintain properly in tilting; only in the last two days had she returned to hitting it correctly on every pass. Just when she’d gotten her skill back, what did Lord Wyldon do but announce a change. In another week he would be replacing the lances of the second-, third-, and fourth-year pages with swords two days a week and axes two days a week. Kel wasn’t ready for that.
    Had she noticed the senior pages using other weapons from horseback the year before? She had to smile at the thought. Of course she hadn’t. When she concentrated on something, like her long struggle to learn how to tilt, she saw little else.
    Her smile vanished. I’ll talk it over with Peachblossom, she decided. He may not understand, but perhaps he’ll appreciate my making the effort. I just hope I don’t bang him with the sword or the ax. I don’t think he’ll like that.
    Was it even worth trying to sleep again now? she wondered, eyes on the light gray sky beyond the open upper shutters. Chances were she would doze off just as the bell rang for the day to start.
    She rolled out of bed and carefully opened the lower shutters so she could see. If she lit a candle, Lalasa would be awake within moments, asking if she could serve Kel - and this even though the dressing room door was shut. Kel sighed, quietly, and wished it were as easy to like Lalasa as it was to like Jump. Certainly the girl was useful. She smuggled Jump’s food into Kel’s room with no one the wiser. She kept things neater than Kel had ever done. If only she laughed more, and talked about things! She relaxed only with the animals, but not Kel. And she mourned each and every tear in Kel’s garments as if a friend had died.
    If only she wouldn’t be so skittish, thought Kel, slipping her weighted harness on over her nightgown. She creeps about like a mouse, flinching whenever you look at her, till you just want to give her something to flinch about. She’s afraid of me. What have I done to deserve it? Only thought about smacking some life into her, and I know she can’t hear my thoughts. If she could, she’d know I felt bad just thinking that.
    Her job with Kel was safe: Baron Piers and Lady Ilane had sent money for the girl’s wages for a year. Kel had paid Lalasa then and there. There was no reason for the girl to think Kel might dismiss her, after receiving a year’s wages. She said little to Kel but “Yes, my lady” and “No, my lady,” or for a change, “I’ll see, my lady.” Kel was a friendly girl; it hurt that Lalasa couldn’t be easy around her. It was also uncomfortable, tiptoeing about her own rooms for fear she might startle her new companion.
    Kel bent to touch her toes and heard a rip. Her nightgown, more than a bit snug around the shoulders these days, had gotten caught under the harness and torn. Wriggling, Kel tried to get a more comfortable fit out of gown and harness. Could