The new pathway began to dive deep after we turned the first corner. It felt like we were on the path entering the maze all over again. For a brief, stupid moment I had to fight the urge to glance over my shoulder and double check that I couldn’t see the hands and goddess statue looming over us. Tension made the air thick. Now everyone’s hands stayed near their sling or knife. The huntresses’ heads were craned upwards to catch glimpses of the sky more often than not. We had to keep stopping and starting as Fenris marked down the stars’ positions and the path. It was interesting seeing her so focused and precise, even though the jarring nature of her work was annoying. Still, I’d rather take the annoyance over getting throughly lost in Flickermark.

I kept my gaze on the path ahead, careful to note any nooks and crannies that might hide a beast or two. I wasn’t able to make out all the turns and spaces the shadows tried to hide, especially as we lost some of the moon and starlight as the path took us deeper, but I figured having more than one person devoting their attention to what might lie ahead couldn’t hurt. It wasn’t that the huntresses weren’t paying attention to their surroundings, but that they only had so much awareness to give. It made sense to split the jobs.

Yolay had taken point with Bluebell as soon as we stepped onto the new path. She was the other person who was giving her attention more to the path than what lay overhead. Bluebell’s nose never seemed to stop twitching as she searched for the scent of any predators that might lie ahead—though given that we were upwind I wasn’t sure how well she could sniff out what was coming. Fellen was giving her attention more to the ravine walls than anything. I hoped she was looking out for caves or precarious rocks that might fall. I almost said something, but then I thought better of it. I didn’t want to accidentally distract the huntresses. Nor was it the time to let our rivalry distract me from my job and, if she had any potential at all to become a huntress, she would be doing hers.

We kept walking as the path took us deeper and deeper. Fenris was forced to stop pausing so much to mark things down simply because the ravine walls blocked out everything but a thin strip of stars. After another five minutes or so of walking the path split into three. The left one looked liked it would lead us back to our original path, but it was so narrow I would have to slid sideways to pass through it. The adults and our supplies wouldn’t have a chance of passing through it, especially since the ravine got narrower about five feet off the ground. It was more like a large crack in the wall than anything else. The center path kept sloping down. I was sent to check around its first corner and from what I could tell it didn’t seem like it was headed toward the center of the maze. The right path rose and split into two more paths just a little ways in. From what we could tell they both seemed to head in the Statue Garden’s direction, though all of that was not much more than guesswork—given how the ravines twisted and turned all of them could bend back into the complete opposite direction than what we thought. Which was why everyone hated trying to figure out a new path through the maze.

The tribe caught up to our group as the huntresses deliberated. The main argument seemed to be about whether we should follow this path back to the one that had been blocked try one of the other routes connected to it, or have the tribe settle here, however uncomfortable it was on the incline, while fishing groups were sent out to get a better idea of the paths in front of us. Since time was of the essence, before the night ran out, and no one looked too keen on hiking back up the hill we had just walked down, in the next few minutes it was decided that the tribe would “go fishing”. It was a rare moment when Fenris and Rawley actually agreed on something.

The advance group split into three, with Rawley and Nole each taking a path, and Fenris and Yolay on the last. All were given thin rope to knot—depending on which way the path turned they would knot it a certain way and the distance between knots would stand in for the length of the path between turns. That way they could devote more of their memory to the important constellations they saw as they went. Parchment was too costly and slow to make to use for anything but the final, official maps of Flickermark. Hence why Fenris was so careful to mark our new path correctly. We couldn’t travel down all the paths we came across, or even always stop to go fishing down every path we came across to get basic knowledge of the path, so what ones the tribe did follow we made sure were marked and correctly aligned with the maps we did have.

All three groups also had the line we used to make fishing traps tied around their midsection, so that they couldn’t lose their way. Each line had a large spool of thread so it was doubtful that they would run out of line before they were ready to turn back and report. “Going fishing” and “fishing groups” had become the common terms for such exploration tactics simply because they looked like fish caught in a trap and they were fishing for information. The tribe had fun making the usual fishing jokes and after a bit good natured eye rolling the huntresses went on their way. Rawley took the middle path while the others went down the two branches of the right path.

Fellen and I weren’t experienced enough to take along, so we were dumped unceremoniously to the side and told not to cause trouble. If we were caught even bickering while our mentors were gone we would regret the consequences-never mind what those consequences actually were. I had no desire to join Grandmother’s group or risk seeing my family by venturing into the tribe as people sat down to rest their feet and work on minor tasks, so I sat by the narrow left hand path. Fellen sat on the other side of the path’s entrance and we had a silent contest of who could studiously ignore the other the longest. I won. I could watch the other tribe members going about their business, but Fellen had to turn in my direction if she wanted to do the same. As Rawley always said, preparation was key. With only ravine walls and the night sky to distract her, it wasn’t even ten minutes before her gaze flicked towards me.

It took only a few more minutes before she gave in to her boredom. So her voice wouldn’t echo she whispered, “What do you think is down is this path?”

“You care what I think?”

She glowered at me. “I should have known you weren’t capable of handling a normal conversation.”

I smirked at her. “Careful. We’re not supposed to bicker.” I twisted around so I could peer down the ravine. It looked craggy and full of shadows. “What’s that?”

Fellen was also looking down the path and she stiffened at my question. “I don’t see anything.”

I leaned forward and made a show of squinting and moving my head as if I had actually seen something and was tracking its movement. But then I did see something. A soft purple glow that was hidden behind a lump in the wall unless you looked at the right angle. I pointed. “Right there. The purple glow.”

She shifted around trying to see before she looked at me, irritation plain on her face. “This better not be one of your tricks.”

I waved her words away. “No, it’s not.” Was it Hanli’s Lament or Trickster’s Cup? Or some new plant Levain hadn’t taught me? Either way it would be rare and useful to have. I felt like I was on one our gathering trips, the excitement of finding the different plants and harvesting them, the freedom of being outside the tent. My favorite time as a healer’s apprentice.

I made Fellen crouch where I had been and pointed again. “The purple glow. Don't you see it?”

It took her a bit to find the correct angle but I noticed when she did see it. She asked, “What is it?”

I pulled off my pack and rummaged through it before pulling out a ball of wool thread and slipping the pack back on. “I’m going to go find out.”

Fellen’s eyes widened and she glanced back at the tribe, but no one was paying us any mind other than a few curious glances. As long as we didn’t start screaming at each other I was sure it would remain that way—everyone was either too busy or concerned with how the fishing was going to want to bother with two children not in their direct care. I tied the thread around one wrist and placed the other end in her hand.

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“You’ll be my stake. It’s not that far, but better safe than sorry.”

I started to shuffle into the narrow ravine before I was pulled up short. I looked back to see that she wasn’t letting the ball of thread unwind. “You can’t!”

I rolled my eyes and did my best to smile at her. “Think of it as fishing training. And it’s not like you won’t be able to see me the entire time.”

She debated with herself before reluctantly relaxing her grip on the thread. “If you die, that’s on you.”

That was the only thing she didn’t need to worry about, but I kept that to myself and began my shuffle down the ravine again. I did keep my hand near my knife though, just in case. The ravine was little more than a long crack in the wall, irritatingly big enough that I felt like I should be able to walk forward normally at times, but just a little to narrow for that to actually work. The sky above and the few inches of air in front of my face gave just enough breathing room, to not feel completely oppressed by the narrowness of the ravine. I didn’t like small, enclosed spaces, but I was used to feeling of being trapped enough that it would take more than a narrow path to overwhelm me.

As I went I noticed rivulets of water running down the ravine walls and along the edges of the path. The purple glow was more likely to be Hanli’s Lament then. The moss liked to grow in shadowy, damp places just as it’s namesake had been drowned in a shadowy lake. It was more likely to be found on the rocks on the edges of ponds and lakes, but sometimes the moss found a suitable place inland, like this ravine seemed to be.

Once I passed the bulge in the ravine wall, I crouched down as best I could in the small space to get a closer look at what was giving off the soft purple light. The light was coming from a hole a couple hand spans wide and inside it, just like I thought, was Hanli’s Lament. The purple moss covered the inside of of the hole and was barely beginning to creep outside it. I glanced down the ravine and I saw a couple smaller purple glows. Elation filled me at the sight until I moved my head to look down at the moss in front of me and there wasn’t the soft bump of the healer’s beads against my temple, no quiet clink of bone hitting bone. This might be a treasure trove of Hanli’s Lament, but it wasn’t for me to make the calming drafts or other mixtures that could made from it. I couldn’t even gather it without the risk of setting off the notion that I was still practicing the healer’s craft, despite others occasionally gathering and bringing ingredients to Levain.

So I had two choices: pretend the purple glow was nothing important and leave the Hanli’s Lament hidden in the ravine, wasted. Or I could go to Levain and inform her about her about the moss so she could send the twins to retrieve some of it.

I hated both options.

A part of me wanted to harvest the moss without anyone the wiser, but if I got caught that would lead, as likely as not, to me being burned, and part of the preparation of Hanli’s Lament was leaving it out to dry in the sun for a few days. I didn’t humor myself with the thought that there was even a chance I could get away with that.

I tried to stomach the thought of keeping the moss a secret, but the waste of such a rare plant galled me. The glow meant this was the proper time for the moss to be harvested too. My whole childhood of training welled up with Levain’s repeated lessons of not wasting resources, to harvest at the correct time, to never pass up on a chance given to you. I wanted to see the drafts and mixtures that could be made with the moss, and having the moss meant Levain could have an upper hand when came to trading with the other healers in Grislander’s Maw. I didn’t want to help her, but the better prepared she was, the better it was for the whole tribe.

Levain might put herself first all the time, but even she knew that strengthening the group helped her overall. The favors she earned didn’t mean anything if there was no one to leverage them against. Survival was the prerequisite before everything else. Which was why the tribes tolerated healers even with the stigma they carried—healers kept them alive.

If I hid the existence of the moss I would be hurting everyone’s chance of survival by keeping an asset hidden. Nor could I accept acting with less insight than the woman who threw me away. Hiding the moss would only prove me worthy of the disappointed looks she had leveled my way for years rather than being a satisfying way of proving her wrong.

My decision made, I let out a long breath and stood before making my way back down the ravine. I tried to untie the thread from my wrist as Fellen asked, insistent, “What was it?”

I ignored her and kept plucking at the tight knot. She began to look affronted, “You don’t get to ignore me—I held the thread for you! What was it?”

Giving up on the knot, I pulled out my knife and cut the thread. Snatching the ball of thread from her hands, I bit out, “Moss,” before turning on my heel and leaving. I didn’t have time for her. If I was going to do this, I had do it soon before my resolve broke.

Fellen hurried after me, wanting a better answer, but I put her out of my mind. Preparing myself for interacting with my family was more important. I knew exactly where they would be—on my left near the back of the tribe. Levain would be tending to the small ailments gained during the run by those brave enough to bother her for treatment. Adley would be wrapping Father around her little finger, gaining a sweet out of her efforts while Kem sat as close to Father as he could, waiting to tell him about every little silly thing he’d seen and done that day.

When I saw them there was a moment of vicious satisfaction as I noticed that, instead of what I had expected, Levain had both of the twins attending her as she rubbed ointment on a woman’s foot. Of course, they could do little more than watch at this point, but finally the twins were getting a tiny taste of my whole childhood. Doubtless, Levain was being softer on them though. Father sat behind them making a new blanket.

I marched up to the other side of the woman Levain was treating and stated, “Hanli’s Lament. It’s ready to be harvested in the narrow ravine over there.” I pointed. “You’ll have to send the twins to retrieve it. Take it or leave it.”

I knew I should turn around and march away as quickly as I’d come, but I paused. I hated myself for the impulse but I paused, waiting for a single moment for a hint of praise or acknowledgment or—

I was foolish and waited for things I didn’t need from a woman I knew would never give them.

In that pause, Levain looked up, her face suffused with her favorite look of disappointment as we both recognized my moment of weakness. Her mouth twisted. “Don’t cling to things you no longer have, Gimlea.”

And that was that. She dismissed me by focusing back on her patient, a woman I knew she didn’t care about as more than stepping stone in that moment. Adley looked smug about Levain’s rejection. Kem, worried—no doubt for himself. Father looked like he wanted to say something, but I knew he wasn’t brave enough to object in Levain’s presence. He had twelve years of chances to do so after all.

I felt myself go cold and distant. Vacant. Like I wasn’t completely inside my own skin anymore. I turned around and left. As I passed Fellen the cold part of me noted the shocked look on her face. I guessed it was one thing to throw insults her mother had said at me and another to see the truth of it first hand.

Levain had taught me her final lesson: disappointment and apathy cut the worst of all.

I felt the reality of what I had been saying for the past few months sink in. I didn’t have a mother. I couldn’t be what I always defined myself as. The healer’s daughter: disliked and unwanted. I had to be something else. Something new.

When Levain threw me away, I had realized I couldn’t be both the girl who was a healer’s daughter and who couldn’t die, so I tried to keep one and cover up the other. But I couldn’t have healing now and I wasn’t a healer’s daughter.

I did still have my mark and its blessing. The very blessing that had caused Levain to give up on her dream of making me one of the goddess’s chosen. So.

So what better way to get revenge than take what she had taught me, what she wanted me to be, and twist it? I wouldn’t become one of the goddess’s chosen simply to no longer be under anyone’s thumb. I would become the goddess’s chosen who was known to have a blessing that didn’t let her die. I would rise with the very thing that had caused Levain to think me useless.

I couldn’t be Gimlea anymore. I couldn’t use the name that woman had given me. Couldn’t hang onto what I didn’t have. I wasn’t like the Lea flower, tiny and pretty and useful for boiling into a sticky concoction that held cuts together.

I made the cuts. I was strong and unbreakable and able to stand on my own.

I was…Gimley.

Gimley the huntress’s apprentice. Gimley, Grandmother’s ward.

Gimley the girl, and future whisper woman, with the mark that wouldn’t let her die.