I wasn’t able to avoid joining Grandmother indefinitely. There were rituals and prayers to be made, and thus blood to be offered. I left the huntresses’ area when Fellen went to find her family and Rawley admonished me to go where I was needed. As I picked my way through the crowd of people I made sure to stay on the far side of the meeting hall away from the healers. No doubt they were being sequestered away into their alcoves, unable to appear until the storm blew itself out, but I couldn’t be sure that there weren’t still some healers working their way through the crowd.

The oddity of people noticing my adult clothing and then my trial mark before shifting out of the way wasn’t lost me as I headed toward the platform. Before, with clinking beads to warn of my approach, I would have been willfully ignored so that I had to find my way through narrow gaps or wait for space to open up. Now by simply being recognized as an adult woman I was placed in the upper half of tribal hierarchy—and the mark rose my status even higher as the rumors questioning our competence lost traction. For most tribes, my bless mark would have also given me a higher status but, given that nearly no one knew what it did and my time as a healer’s apprentice was still engraved into the Gabbler Shore Tribe’s memory, it did little for me.

Grandmother acknowledged me with a glance as I stood near the other wards, but it was Old Lily who bustled around and got us organized on the stage with the wards from other tribes. There wasn’t going to be any grand ceremony, so each group of wards were placed on different sections of the stage. That way the tribes could see that the rituals and appeasement of the goddess were being tended to, but there wasn’t a large commotion that could draw the goddess’s focus more closely upon us. The Grandmothers conferred with each other as we stood waiting and people fussed throughout the hall, searching for loved ones.

Even with my vantage point, I couldn’t pick out Fellen in the crowd. Either she was behind someone taller than her, in one of the alcoves, or in one of the pockets of gloom between light sources that made it difficult to make out details at a distance. Those spots of shadow would only grow as the glow stones faded once evening arrived; there was no good way to recharge them with a snow storm raging outside. Given that there was no sure way to tell when the storm would end, and the rest of the cold season to consider once it did, fires would be kept to a minimum. The meeting hall might not be a haven of heat and warmth, but even without fires it could keep the worst of the chill away. Between that, body heat, thick clothes and blankets we didn’t need anything else to stay warm. Fires instead acted primarily as tools for cooking and providing light so we didn’t trip over one another and could do more than whisper in the dark. We might see well in dim light, but trying to peer through complete darkness was a fool’s errand.

There were those that settled into the deeper spots of darkness in the hall and took a few minutes to take solace in self-made shadow there. As there were no tent walls to do the practice behind—and only so many alcoves—everyone did their best to grant them the privacy they deserved. Not everyone made use of the compromise though as publicly taking solace in self-made shadow still had an undercurrent of vulnerability to it.

Grandmother walked up the ramp and over to where the other wards and I stood with Old Lily near the front right side of the stage. “We’ll be doing the storm offering this morning and then a variation on the traveler’s offering every evening on rotation until the storm is over.” Grandmother’s eyes fixed on me. “Depending on how bad this storm gets, you have offered to take part in more offerings.”

I opened my mouth to refute her statement, but her unyielding gaze shut me up before I even said a word. Old Lily, however, could still speak up even when her sister was asserting the full weight of her authority. She rested her hand on Grandmother’s arm, concern clear on her face. “Only her?”

Grandmother’s smile was grim and tight lipped. “She has proven herself capable of it, sister.” She noticed, as I had, that while the others didn’t look enthused about the idea of offering more blood, they also didn’t like that I had been singled out for the job. “If you all want to prove you can participate in more rituals without undermining them by hesitating or collapsing from the blood loss, you’re welcome to speak up now so we can test you.”

No one did and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. Grandmother and I both knew my blessing was the only reason she volunteered me for the added rituals. She wasn’t one to let potential resources go to waste.

Old Lily accepted her answer though and backed off so that we could do the blood offering. There was no call-and-answer, no reason for her to keep the beat with her rhythm sticks, so instead she hurried off to take care of some other task while Grandmother pulled out her ritual bowl.

Grandmother faced us as we stood around her in a curved line. “Do you remember the words?”

We all gave our assent; there was little chance of us forgetting one of the ritual prayers even if we hadn’t had to participate in the ceremony before. They were simply one of the things everyone knew and couldn’t quite remember when they had learned it like children’s games.

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Raya went first at the other end of the line. She held her left wrist over Grandmother’s bowl and spoke the ritual words. “I gift this blood to the Goddess, so that She may know our awe in the face of the storm and that we bow before its strength and glory.” She knelt and crossed her wrists over her head in a bow. “May Her gaze turn to one more worthy.”

I followed her lead when it came to my turn as did the other wards. All around on the stage I could hear other groups of wards say the same prayer, over and over, as their Grandmothers conducted the ceremony. Once Grandmother’s bowl was filled with our blood she turned to face the crowd though less than half was watching the familiar proceedings with any marked interest. This was not a ritual they had a role in and there were other tasks to be done.

Grandmother held the bowl aloft for one long moment before she brought it to her lips and drank. I couldn’t see her face, but I knew her upper lip was coated with blood.

“Heliquat!” Multiple people flinched as she called out the goddess’s name. “This lowly blood speaker drinks this blood in your stead. Do you accept the Gabbler Shore Tribe’s offering?”

One moment, two, and then the blood flaked away into the air. I let out a silent sigh as Grandmother turned back to us.

“I expect to see you all again after the evening meal for the next ritual. Until then finish the tasks that were assigned to you—once you’re done with them the time is yours as long as you don’t cause trouble.”

I declined to mention that I hadn’t been given any tasks and hurried away with the other wards. Rather than go to Old Lily or the healers, I could bandage my leg in the safety of the lone huntress’s area. I didn’t get much further than the ramp leading back up to the stage, however, before Prevna interrupted my plan.

She rose from her squat next to the alcove closest to stage as I drew near and revealed a roll of bandages. I didn’t ask where she got them and she didn’t say, but when she indicated the alcove with her chin and entered it I followed her in. I could have kept going, but curiosity and the desire for my new pants not to be ruined pushed me to follow her lead.

The alcove was the same one Fellen and I had ate in after the celebration for our marks, but there was no glow stone lighting it up or cushions to rest on now. So, Prevna handed me the bandages and propped the alcove’s covering slightly open so that the light from the stage’s glow stone took the space from complete darkness to a deep gloom. That was all I needed though to make quick, efficient work of bandaging my leg.

Prevna watched me for a few moments as I worked before she spoke up. “It’s been nearly a month. Are you ready to talk now?”

“I don’t see why you’re so intent on it.”

“You’re so kind and wonderful I can’t be satisfied until you declare us friends.”

I glared at her and her poor attempt at humor.

She rolled her eyes. “Look, if you’re that put off by the concept we don’t need to be friends—but I think it would benefit both of us if we were at least allies. We don’t know what to expect at the Seedling Palace, but two can face a challenge better than one and if we share knowledge we’ll have a better chance of progressing faster.”

I couldn’t deny her points even if I still didn’t truly trust her. “I’m not the only other one with a bless mark.”

A brief smirk curled up the corner of her mouth. “No, but you are the only one being difficult about this. Wren was more than happy to be allies.”

I kept my expression still even as I learned the name of the girl with the bird—I doubted there was a fourth girl in the valley ready to go to the Seedling Palace and the name left little doubt. I couldn’t let Prevna know that her involvement might interest me more than it should for a girl I didn’t know and had only seen once. Still, perhaps I could tolerate a connection with them like I had with Crest—nothing deeper than the exchange of information and mutual benefit. No deep or difficult questions, no traps that threatened to hurt me no matter what I did. If that’s all the connection was than even if they abandoned or betrayed me they wouldn’t be able to truly hurt me as I wouldn’t trust them with the information to do so.

I finished closing the flap on my pant leg and straightened up. “Allies?”

“Yeah. She said friendship was earned, but being allies couldn’t hurt.”

I tossed what was left of the bandages back to her. “Fine. But don’t press me for information. If I think you should know something I’ll tell you.”

I saw her hold in a sigh. “You’re always so much fun to talk to.”

I snorted and pushed aside the other side of the alcove’s covering as I left. “Get used to it.”

“Meet us back here tomorrow after the midday meal. We’ll go over what we know then.”

I raised a hand to show that I heard, but kept walking.

The rest of the day passed quickly as everyone settled into their respective areas and gossip and speculation buzzed around the hall about the storm, the herds outside, and herds and herders in the holding pen. Apparently, two families were distraught because they couldn’t find a young couple in the meeting hall and they were hoping beyond hope that they had ended up next door despite the fact that the pair weren’t herders. Losing someone to a snow storm was one of the worst ways for it to happen as there often wasn’t time after being trapped inside to find the body before it became a shamble man—but if two people were all we lost than the goddess had been lenient no matter the strength of the storm screaming outside.