The nine chosen members of the sibko moved closer to each other, all of them facing Falconer Joanna nervously. About fifteen meters away, Ellis' trio was grouped similarly. Aidan felt Marthe's shoulder against his; the shorter Endo stood slightly in back of him.

"You seem to cower, eyasses," Falconer Joanna said, a pleased smile on her face. "Are you screamers, taken too soon from your nest, tender of the hood, pulling at the jesse, unable even to be at hack safely?" The terms belonged to falconry. Being at hack was the time of liberty and exploration before the bird was trained to the hunt; a jesse was the leather thong that tied a hooded bird to its block during periods of inactivity. Aidan thought the comparison uncomfortably apt for cadets and even trained warriors.

"You heard the commander. Fight, you freebirth mutants. Fight, you sib-bastards." Another low term, sometimes used when it was discovered that there were inferior strains in a sibko's genetic makeup.

Aidan looked past Joanna at the many other groups of trainees in the huge field. Some of them were now in furious activity. Some were assembling to march, others were already marching away from the landing site. In the distance he could see a brawl going on. Closer by were two groups, whose members were lying on the ground, with training officers urging them back to consciousness and mobility. The wind had died down, but the air was still bitter cold. Far away he noticed for the first time a chain of ragged mountains that looked like a line of teeth—littered, he feared, with the bodies of erstwhile trainees.

"You!" Falconer Joanna shouted, pointing to Endo. "There is no use in hiding behind your fellows. Step out, cadet!"

Endo walked around Aidan. He was obviously trembling, though it was more likely because of the frigid temperature than fear. No doubt he did feel fear, like Aidan, but it would be unsib to show it, especially to a warrior like Joanna.

Endo opened his mouth as if to speak, but Falconer Joanna's scornful glare made him think better of it. "Remember not to address me," she said softly, then, with a punch that was not at all telegraphed, she hit him in the stomach. Not just hit him, but dug her fist into his extra flesh as hard as she could while grabbing his hair and yanking his head back. She was still wearing her metal-studded falconry gloves. Recalling his own pain when Joanna had gut-punched him, Aidan winced to think how the blow must hurt Endo. "You are allowed to hit me, surat." Surat was a loathsome word, the name of a disgusting, monkey-like creature. "Hit me, surat. Hit me." Endo reared back and, grunting, attempted a roundhouse right that, if successful, would have addled Joanna's brain for a moment. But she was too quick for him. She blocked the punch and dug her fist into the exact same place on his belly. Endo's face turned red. She pushed him away. He stumbled backward, gasping for breath.

Standing straight, Falconer Joanna ceremoniously removed her gloves and casually tossed them onto the ground. "I do not need these, not against nestlings like you." She squared away, her body loose and ready. Her eyes scanned the still-standing members of the sibko, who now had edged together. Passed out, Endo was splayed out on the ground in front of them.

Suddenly Joanna ran at the group, yelling, "This is a free-for-all. Fight, you drooling fools!" She hit Bret with a forearm chop across the bridge of his nose, then she head-butted Tymm while kicking back at Orilna, making contact in a spot that might have been more painful to a male but nevertheless made Orilna double up.

"Do you still suck the metal teat, cadets?" Joanna yelled. "Fight me!"

Both Aidan and Marthe accepted the challenge. Aidan leaped at Falconer Joanna, his arms flailing as a diversionary maneuver. She brought up her arms to block the expected blow, but at the last minute, he drew his arms in, lowered his head and butted her just below the breasts. He had been aiming for her stomach, so when his head hit her at rib cage, he was momentarily stunned. Marthe, in the meantime, maneuvering from a position to Joanna's left, missed a grab at her neck but managed to get hold of her upper arm. As Marthe twisted the arm back, Joanna laughed. "Tug and tussle do not work here, whelp." With no trick, no diversion, with just a demonstration of her own strength, she brought her arm back to its former position, then—moving so quickly that

Marthe was caught by surprise—Joanna flung her body at Marthe, knocking the cadet backward with a shoulder blow that caught Marthe at the tip of her chin. As Marthe reeled back, eyes dazed, the now-recovering Aidan saw that she was definitely out of the fight. With a yell that would have frightened an ordinary person, he rushed at Falconer Joanna. The cry did not, of course, faze Joanna.

Leaping, letting out a scream that didscare Aidan, she sent him dizzy with a kick to his head. Around him the sibko had come to life, and as he fell, they all tried to pounce on the falconer. Reacting quickly to evade their smothering assault, she managed to make contact with her fists, elbows, knees, feet, head—all her destructive body parts dealing blows that bruised, stung, and pained, even injured, her attackers. Wading back into the melee once she was free, Joanna quickly dispatched the remaining sibkin and soon stood over a groaning, squirming mass of cadets.

She stared around her, her cruel eyes daring any of the downfallen to try again.

Aidan tried again.

He stood and rushed toward her with all the strength left in his legs. As he reached her, she brought her forearm up to ward off a weak blow that he had intended as a feint, but then he brought around his other arm slower than he wanted and she dealt him a punishing backhand right without bothering to ward off his attack. Another couple of solid punches, and Aidan was down on the ground again.

Above him, her eyes sent out the dare again.

Aidan dared.

Pulling himself to his feet, swaying from side to side, he clasped both hands together and, running forward, managed to hit Joanna on the side of her face with the joined hands. The impact seemed to surprise the falconer, who had arrogantly made no attempt to defend herself against his onslaught. She stumbled sideways, but regained her footing and turned to him, smiling. The smile was peculiar. Though her eyes retained their scornful cruelty, her smile was pleased. It seemed almost appealing. She walked toward him, the smile becoming friendly. She held out her hand.

"I see you do not like me, cadet. Good. I admire your tenacity."

With her outstretched hand, she took his and held it for a moment. Then, releasing his hand, without rearing back or giving any indication that a punch was coming, she jabbed him in the nose with her other hand, and he felt something break. She hit him again in the same place, and the pain was so bad he could not see straight—or, rather, he could see too well, in too many images. The third punch sent him back to the ground.

He looked up to see Falconer Joanna standing over him.

"Are you through yet, nestling?"

He tried to sit up, and she gently pushed him down. This time he stayed there.

"This one might test out all the way," she said to Falconer Ellis, who now stood beside her. As she spoke, she was putting on the falconer gloves, whose star-shaped studs caught some light and sparkled. She held each glove, palm side toward her, directly in front of her face as she pulled it on, grimacing as she stretched it tight. "He does not, as you saw, give up easily. Let us make his stay with us especially difficult."

Her compliments gave Aidan no pleasure. He was not sure he wanted her approval. He wassure he hated her.