I had failed.

I had tried to be clever and failed; all I had managed, all I had ever managed, was to get abandoned again. And that was what I had wanted, wasn’t it? Fellen was better off without me, and things were easier without constantly monitoring a relationship tally—but I had failed, because now she was still going to get herself killed and I didn’t have the solace of knowing she would be safe.

I fumbled as I went to slide my eating knife away, nearly nicking a finger. Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to focus on the action so that I wouldn’t mess up again, even though I had slipped my knife away so many times before that the action should have been thoughtless. The knife went into its sheath and my gaze caught on a bit of cord lying near my feet.

Sinking to my knees, I picked it up. A large gray felt leaf caught my attention next and I picked it up too. Then I was feverishly, frantically gathering up every bit of cord and leaf I could find. Never mind the dark and the snow and the bile building up in the back of my throat. I had to gather them all, because if my gambit hadn’t worked then wrenching another hole in my chest by leaving them in the snow wasn’t worth it.

The hair cord had been a beautiful, if relatively simple, piece of craftsmanship; now it really was what I had unfairly called it: bits of string and rags. Still, I clutched at them, like a drowning swimmer to a bit of driftwood that was already sinking from their weight. I knew I didn’t have the knowledge or skill to repair the cord, just like I didn’t have time to repair the damage I done to Fellen even if I thought trying to win back her trust would do any good.

She finally hated me.

I was free.

But I hadn’t thought that Fellen’s absence—the knowledge she wouldn’t try to cling to my side like a burr anymore—would hurt without even a smidgen of relief. I had been trying to protect her, but the end result didn’t allow for any relief from that quarter just as it threw in my face the absolute lack of control I had. Fellen had taken control of the conversation and said the final word while I had given into fear and lost control and ruined the last couple days I had with her. I wasn’t even controlling my reaction right now.

I looked down at the pile of scraps on my lap and it was like looking into her favorite look of disappointment—lips pressed together, chin slightly raised, eyes looking down her nose.

I flung the leaves and bits of cord away from me. Still, the sense that I was a coward too afraid to make use of all resources around me stayed close at hand—though I doubted she meant for me to make and keep friends when she had pressed that lesson into me. Rather, she probably would have wanted me to do what I had done, as the one lesson she had never said but taught over and over again was that self-preservation was paramount to all else.

That realization, all on its own, was sickening. I dry heaved into one hand as I clasped my middle with the other arm. I was independent, wearing adult clothing…alone. She wasn’t supposed to have that kind of influence over me anymore.

And yet, I couldn’t deny the kernel of truth in her lesson. Who else was I going to look after but myself? It wasn’t like anyone else was going to. I just had to focus on my goals and hope that Fellen—

Snow crunched softly behind me. It sounded like someone walking. I took my hands away from my face and stomach, straightened my spine, and twisted to look into the forested shadows behind me. Rawley appeared first as a silhouette and then as a person with too much sorrow and concern laid bare through her expression, her posture, her focus. My mind stuttered to a stop upon spotting her; once again caught off guard by her presence and emotion.

Rawley took in the scene quickly—me kneeling in the snow with the ruined hair cord scattered in front of me—before crouching by my side, facing me. “What happened?”

I refused to make eye contact with her. “I was trying to protect her.”

Rawley shifted and I didn’t need to look at her to know that disbelief had been added to her expression. “She was crying, Gimley.”

My nails dug into my knees. “She’ll deal with worse when she goes to die in one of the goddess’s trials.”

“Ah.” Rawley settled down next to me, careful not to disturb any of the cord pieces. “I assume those pieces are from something of hers?”

I held out for three long breaths before I answered her. “They were a gift.”

“So you made her cry and cut up a gift she gave you, all in the name of protecting her?”

I rounded on her. “What else was I supposed to do? I only have a couple more days and she was—is—still set on becoming a Realmwalker. If she keeps pursuing that she’s going to get herself killed. We barely made it out last time.”

Rawley’s smile was small and sad and understanding, but her voice was firm. “She might.”

I blinked, shocked out of my growing outburst.

Rawley continued, “Don’t you think she’s smart enough to realize that? And I think we both are smart enough to know that in hurting her you weren’t really protecting her.” She let that sink in for a moment before asking one more question. “So why did you do it?”

I swallowed hard, but didn’t answer.

Rawley shifted again, so that her shoulder pressed against mine. “Another direction then. You pursued the healing craft even when you knew its detriments, didn’t you? Why shouldn’t Fellen be allowed the same opportunity?”

I wanted to say because learning the healing craft didn’t carry the threat of dying but I knew that was a lie. Never mind the herbs that could be mixed badly and have terrible effects, but the time I had spent trapped in the tent had been a different kind of dying. I had experienced more outside tent walls in less than a year than I had ever thought possible previously.

Unbidden the memory of her trying to cut off my healer’s beads rose. My stomach roiled again as the similarities between our actions glared at me in my mind’s eye. The only difference was that she had failed to destroy, where I had succeeded. She had hissed at me that she was trying to do it for my protection, for my future, as she still held the knife in hand.

Rawley gently lifted my chin so that I looked at her. “Trust is a different type of strength.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I licked my lips and focused on a tree past her shoulder as she pulled the answer I was trying to hide out of me once again. “I…wanted to regain control. So that I could protect myself.”

She nodded and let me go. “As long as you realize that. Though if you do find you truly want to protect her in the future, I suggest you ask her what you can do first rather than destroy a gift.”

I flinched as the note of censure in her voice cut deep. “She won’t want to talk to me ever again. Not after what I did.”

Rawley sighed and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “Perhaps. That’s her choice; after all, this isn’t an instance where we can use a retaliatory punch to make the damage equal and forget. But that also doesn’t mean you can’t try.”

“There’s only two days left—and it’s better if she hates me.”

Rawley sounded genuinely incredulous. “Why?”

I couldn’t form the answer into words, so instead I simply gestured to the scattered bits of cord and felt leaves.

“Ah.” She cleared her throat. “Well, perhaps if you do earn her forgiveness in the future it would be best not to betray her trust again.”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I could. If I had convinced myself what I was doing was for the best this time, who was to say I wouldn’t do the same thing in the future? Especially, when I still couldn’t deny that I didn’t want Fellen to risk herself in the goddess’s trials.

“And the time limit?”

Rawley chuckled though the sound had a melancholy edge to it. “Do you die when you go off to the Seedling Palace?”

“No.”

“Then there is no time limit, not unless you choose not to seek her out in the future.”

I pressed my lips together in consternation. In my mind, my life had always been split between before and after leaving for the Seedling Palace with no mixing between the two sections but, as my mentor said, that didn’t necessarily have to be the case. Granted, whisper women weren’t known to parade around their old tribes but that didn’t mean I had to cut myself off completely. Especially when Fellen would be making her way to places that were more likely for a whisper woman to frequent. She had said she would continue to train first; I could train as well and keep an ear out for someone attempting the trials. Perhaps I could meet her there and see if time made her more open to let me fix what I had broken. Perhaps I could really protect her then.

Or, if I learned she was doing better without me, I could leave her in peace.

“Okay.” I started to gather up the pieces of broken cord again.

Rawley helped me and we soon had them all in hand. I pressed the bunch I had gathered into her hands. “Will you hang onto these for me? Like you did with the beads?”

Her smile brightened. “Of course.”

- -

The next two days passed by in a blur of quiet contemplation and storytelling. A few ceremonies stood out such as when we all gathered to watch a couple of whisper women appear from a shadow on the third day to add to the pile of wood everyone had collected on the second. I knew it was supposed to be symbolic of the goddess building something even greater with what we had already made with our own hands, but I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of wood we were going to burn the next day. It was the kind of extravagance only the Dark Night celebrations could command.

Mostly though, I felt like I was in a bubble of silence and solitude without Fellen dogging me at every step. The few times we saw each other across the crowd she would flinch and quickly turn away. At one point I thought I saw her talking to Prevna, but given the dark and the oddity of it, I couldn’t be sure. I debated trying to talk to her before I left, but I was never able to bring myself to do it. One part of me was convinced I’d manage to make everything even worse while another thought she deserved to live a life that wasn’t entangled with me.

I said what goodbyes I had the morning of the fourth day. The huntresses had been more on edge with me ever since I hurt Fellen, but they still came to Grandmother’s tent to wish me good hunting. Rawley also kept her goodbye short and sweet.

She touched her forehead to mine, much like she had after I arrived in Grislander’s Maw, and said, “Good hunting, clever girl. Don’t ever doubt that you’ll make me proud.”

I murmured, “Good hunting,” in return and she gave me a private smile before clasping Crest’s hand. Then they left to go secure a good spot in the crowd for the upcoming ceremony.

After that the only people of note to say goodbye to were Grandmother and Old Lily. I knew better than to expect Fellen or my family.

Old Lily held out my packed traveler’s pack. “May the goddess know of your deeds to honor Her.”

I took it from her and slung the straps over my shoulders. “May She avert Her gaze from your travels.”

She nodded and gently placed a hand on my arm. I had to force myself not to flinch back. “Be well, child.”

Grandmother was blunt, as always. “Make Her proud.” Her eyes narrowed. “If I hear one inkling of your ego getting too big for your britches, I’ll come to the Seedling Palace and cut it down myself.”

I knew better than to back talk in that moment though the desire to do so was on the tip of my tongue. “I will.”

Then Old Lily bustled me off to my spot in the ceremony. I found myself sandwiched between Wren and Prevna, close to the huge, unlit bonfire. They also had their packs on and Chirp hopped on Wren’s shoulder. Murmurs and shuffling came from either side of us, but I couldn’t see much of the crowd other than what the occasional flicker of flame showed. When the sounds of movement came from behind us, I knew the ceremony was about to begin.

Crack. Crack.

The Echoes’ rhythm sticks struck. From past years, I knew they were in two lines behind each side of the crowd that lined the path we would walk down. Then the Grandmothers’ voices rose from where they had encircled the fire pit behind us.

“Do you honor the goddess?”

From the dark the voices of the tribes rose as one as they began to stomp in rhythm with the Echoes. “We honor Her!”

“How do you honor Her?”

“With blood. Blood. Blood!”

“Then She shall have blood!”

Lights flickered behind us and then the bonfire roared to life. I had to blink hard to stop my eyes from watering from the sudden light even though I wasn’t facing it. The fire illuminated the twin columns of tribes people and the Echoes behind them. They continued to stomp and hit their sticks together and despite the fact that the volume was at odds with how the goddess’s procession had been, I couldn’t help but be reminded of it as I had every year since I had seen the goddess for the first time.

Except now I wasn’t on the sidelines. I was standing on the middle of the path and at the end of it was three whisper women standing in the mountain forest’s shadows. Each was rigid with formality and expectant. The one on the left was thin and tall with blond hair severely pulled back into a sleek tail while the other two looked almost to be twins with identical wavy brown hair and paler skin than the blond whisper woman’s tan.

Prevna, Wren, and I walked forward and as we did the crowd set off their flickers of flame in a kind of rippling effect. Some danced on the ends of fingertips while others flashed and sparked around our heads and backs. And with every flash of light the shadows at our feet seemed to pool darker.

Anticipation rose in my chest as we continued forward. I was finally about to take my first concrete step towards becoming a whisper woman.

My gaze caught on Fellen, standing next to her mother. She looked pained at the sight of me but she made her fire spark to life—I was sure the one that flashed near my hair had to be hers. Rawley and the huntresses were on the other side of the walkway a little ways down. She grinned at the sight of me and their flickers of flame appeared close enough together to give the illusion of a larger fire. I ignored her and the twins and Father when I saw them near the end of the path. They didn’t deserve to steal my final moments in the valley.

We reached the whisper women and they each held out their right hands. I grasped the hand of the whisper woman in the center without hesitation, eager to reach the Seedling Palace.

It was the whisper women’s turn to speak in unison. “The goddess accepts your offering!”

My whisper woman winked.

And then the shadows swallowed me whole.

—End of Book One—