The shamassons entered the classroom four at a time. I wondered how many of them there were in the House of Civius, out there in the halls, trying to maintain order in this place that was probably marked for destruction like so many others. The children were still chattering excitedly, but quieted down when the women in white began speaking. They told us to be quiet. They told us to tell them what had happened.
“Gyrath slapped Nerod,” said one.
“Gyrath challenged a teacher about Mrs. Praner and Civius,” said another.
“And where is Gyrath?” they asked.
“I’m here,” I said, standing and avoiding a wince at the pain of the small piece of glass.
“It sounds like you could use some tea,” they said in unison.
“Tea,” I mumbled.