The pen had been built for animals.
That much was obvious from the smell, which lingered in the dirt despite somebody's recent attempt to throw some fresh straw down. The walls were old, dark stone stacked waist-high and then continued upward in fresh planking that someone had hammered together fast and not particularly well. The planks went up about ten feet. There was a gate at one end, two guards posted outside it, and a small open square of sky overhead.
The students were marched in a few at a time and told to sit.
Katarina sat against the south wall with Pirra on one side of her and Tavia on the other. The faculty were gathered near the gate, Pelegatta at the front, the others behind her. Eva was across the pen, against the far wall, alone, her knees drawn up and her wings folded so tight they looked stitched to her back.
Katarina leaned her head back against the stone and let the day do what it was going to do.
The afternoon dragged.
