The Rithmatist

below, he noticed, the students were already drawing. He’d missed the start. He winced, half afraid to seek out poor Melody. He was taking her reeducation slowly for her own good. She wasn’t yet prepared for something like this.
    That made Fitch grow nervous again. Drat it all! he thought. Why can’t I be confident, like Nalizar? That man had a gift for self-assuredness.
    “Hey,” said Professor Campbell. “Is that the chalkmaker’s son?”
    Fitch started, almost spilling his drink as he looked down at the wide, circular arena floor below. In the very center, two figures drew from within the same circle. That wasn’t forbidden by the rules, but it was highly unusual—it would mean that a break in the circle would knock them both out of the competition, and that wasn’t a risk worth taking.
    It slowly dawned on Fitch who those two students were. One didn’t wear the uniform of a Rithmatist. He wore the sturdy, yet unremarkable clothing of a servant’s son.
    “Well, I’ll be,” York said. “Is that legal?”
    “It can’t possibly be!” Professor Hatch said.
    “I think it actually is,” said Professor Kim.
    Fitch stared down, mentally calculating the arcs between the points on Joel and Melody’s circle. “Oh, lad,” he said, smiling. “You got it right on. Beautiful.”
    Nalizar stepped up beside Fitch, looking down. His expression had changed, the haughtiness gone. Instead, there was simply consternation. Fascination, even.
    Yes, Fitch thought, I’m sure he’ll turn out to be an all right fellow, if we just give him enough time.…
    * * *
    Joel’s blue chalk vibrated between his fingers as he dragged it across the black ground. He drew without looking up. He was surrounded by opponents—that was all he needed to know. Keening would do him no good. He needed defense. A powerfully strong defense before he could move on to any kind of attack.
    He scratched out a kind of half-person, half-lizard, then attached it to a bind point before moving on.
    “Wait,” Melody said. “You call that a chalkling?”
    “Well, uh…”
    “Is that a walking carrot?”
    “It’s a lizard man!” Joel said, drawing on the other side, fixing a circle that had been blown through.
    “Yeah, whatever. Look, leave the chalklings to me, all right? Just draw ‘X’ marks where you want them, and I’ll make them to fit the situation.”
    “You aren’t going to draw unicorns, are you?” Joel asked, turning, his back to her as he drew.
    “What’s wrong with unicorns?” she demanded from behind him, her chalk sounding as it scraped the ground. “They’re a noble and—”
    “They’re a noble and incredibly girly animal,” Joel said. “I’ve got my masculine reputation to think of.”
    “Oh hush, you,” she said. “You’ll deal with unicorns—maybe some flower people and a pegasus or two—and you’ll like it. Otherwise, you can just go draw your own circle, thank you very much.”
    Joel smiled, growing less nervous. The lines felt natural to draw. He’d practiced so much, first with his father, then alone in his rooms, finally with Professor Fitch. Putting the lines where he did just felt right.
    The waves of chalklings came first, a surprising number of them. He glanced up to see that Nalizar’s students—with their advanced training in dueling—had already eliminated some opponents. Drawing so quickly and offensively had given them an advantage in the first part of the Melee. It would hurt them as time wore on.
    Joel and Melody, along with three or four other unlucky students, were in the direct center of the floor. Surrounded by Nalizar’s team, who formed a ring. Obviously, their plan would be to eliminate those in the direct center, then fight those at the perimeters.
    What’s your plan for these students, Nalizar? Joel wondered. What lies are you teaching them?
    Joel gritted his teeth—the positioning was great for Nalizar’s students, but terrible for Joel and Melody. He and she were surrounded by a ring of enemies.
    Large waves of chalklings swarmed Joel and Melody. By now, however, Melody had up a good dozen of her unicorns. That was one of the great things about an Easton Defense—a large circle with nine bind points, each with a smaller circle bound to it. Each of those smaller circles could theoretically hold up to five bound chalklings.

    With Melody on the team, that was a distinct advantage. Her little unicorns frolicked in what Joel thought was a very undignified manner,