Page 29 of The Lost Art of Finding Where You Belong

Onadal was suddenly there.

“What happened?”

There was a ringing in Perian’s ears, and he realized belatedly that his chest was heaving. He blinked, trying to focus.

“Fomadin attacked Perian,” one of the other newbies said, and two of the others nodded, looking, if not quite as stunned at Perian, at least pretty shocked.

“We were sparring,” the man spat from the ground.

One of the Mage Warriors Perian didn’t know very well still had him pinned down with what was clearly a lot of talent with air.

Onadal raised an eyebrow at Perian.

“He didn’t ask if I wanted to spar,” he managed to say. He felt like he was talking through numb lips. It was a very weird sensation.

“If he wasn’t wasting everyone’s time here, he would have been fine!” the man spat. “He’s no Warrior—he doesn’t belong here!”

“You don’t get to decide who belongs here,” Onadal said sternly. “I do. Lucky you, you won’t need to see him ever again.”

Fomadin shot a nasty, victorious look at Perian. Perian really wanted to know what he’d ever done to the other man.

Onadal peeled Perian’s hand off his arm, peered at the wound, or maybe all the blood, and then said urgently, “I want you to go to the doctor right now.”

“Oh, I’msure—”

Onadal looked at the closest Warrior, a beautiful, well-muscled man with brown hair and a distracting cleft in his chin. “Perian needs an escort to the doctor.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Onadal dismissed everyone else and directed two other Warriors plus the Mage Warrior who was using air to bring Fomadin with him.

“Here,” the Warrior said.

Perian looked at the towel, but he kind of didn’t have any hands free at the moment.

Gently, the Warrior said, “We’re going to put this against the wound to help stop the bleeding.”

“Oh,” Perian said blankly. “That’s a good idea.”

The Warrior lifted Perian’s hand, inserted the towel, and then pressed his hand back down before guiding him into motion.

“Let’s go see the doctor.”

It was easier to fall into step with him than to protest, so Perian did so.

“I’m not totally sure why I’m reacting like this,” he said conversationally.

“You’re in shock,” the Warrior offered kindly.

He was a big man—so many of them were so delightfully big—with warm hazel eyes. The round beads in his dark hair were almost the same color as his eyes. The fact that he was twice as broad as Perian didn’t seem to makehimfeel like it was his place to crush Perian.

“Last time this happened—I mean, I’ve never been attacked with a knife before, I was burned—I was really angry. Oh, but when I was attacked in the street, I guess I kind of reacted like this. It was definitely a shock when that happened. I wasn’t very useful then, either.”

“You deflected the blade very well,” the man said. “You could have been seriously injured.”

Perian blew out a breath. “It happened so fast. Maybe attacks always do. Maybe he’s right, and I shouldn’t be here.”

“Hey,” the Warrior protested, stopping for a moment so he could look Perian in the eyes. “I mean it. A man with a knife came at you, and you stopped him from severely injuring you. Do youwantto be a Warrior?”

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