She’s been … scuffling with city guards? Honing these skills. “Why?” I ask. “Why did you want to learn to fight?”
She shrugs. “I’m good at it, and I really love it. I thought I might want to be a guard someday.”
“But that’s dangerous!”
“And that’s why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d react like this.”
I stare openmouthed at her. All the sneaking out. It was so she could practice fighting in secret?
“You should be glad,” Kellyn says. “She was a big help just now. Especially since you divided their numbers by coming out of your tent.”
“You stay out of this!” I hiss. Then I turn back to Temra. “I can’t believe you didn’t think you could tell me about this.”
“Because you would have forbidden it! It’s my choice what I do with my life.”
“You’re damned right I would have! It’s my job to look after you.” Mother and Father would be so disappointed if they knew. Not just about this, but how I failed to protect Temra. From this blasted sword and the warlord and everything else that threatens us.
Petrik crawls out of his tent. He’s fully dressed in his scholar robes. He takes in the dead beasts first, then looks over Temra and me—for any wounds, presumably. Then his eyes land on Kellyn.
“You just had to use your shirt, huh?” Petrik says, looking distastefully at Kellyn’s torso.
“I didn’t have time to ask to borrow your dress.”
Petrik shakes his head, like he can’t even bother. “I’ll make some tea.”
CHAPTER
TEN
Temra cleans the claw marks for me in the privacy of the tent, neither of us saying a word. After, we all sit around the fire, Temra and Kellyn with their weapons unsheathed, prepared should the few wolves that fled decide to return.
Kellyn has thankfully donned another shirt.
I tell him, “Thank you for saving us. That was quick thinking about the torch.”
“Have I earned my keep, then?”
“I’d say so.”
A silence follows, and I feel the need to fill it, but I have nothing to say. Discomfort spreads over me like a scratchy cloak.
“We need to have a discussion about following orders when we’re under threat like that,” Kellyn says. “I need you all to listen if I’m to do my job properly. Strangely, the scholar was the only one who obeyed.”
“I knew I could help,” Temra says defensively.
“And now that I know you can, I will use that knowledge next time I give orders.” Kellyn turns his gaze to me expectantly.
“I’m not about to stay behind if Temra is in the thick of danger. If I hadn’t pushed her away, that wolf would’ve—” I cut off, unable to finish the thought.
“So it’s better that you were hurt instead of her?” Kellyn asks.
Temra says over the top of him, “You shouldn’t have thrown yourself at me. That was reckless.”
“I’m stronger than you are,” I say simply. She couldn’t very well have held her own against a wolf barehanded. I barely did—and only for a short amount of time at that. Any longer, and it would have had me if Kellyn hadn’t intervened.
Another silence.
“Regardless of how stupid it was, it was very impressive,” Kellyn offers. “I’ve never seen anyone wrestle a wolf like that.”
The compliment startles me, and I have no idea how to respond to it.
“Had I known we were all ignoring the mercenary’s sage advice to stay in our tents, I would have come out to help,” Petrik says, sounding somewhat embarrassed.
“I had my hands full enough keeping these two out of trouble,” Kellyn says. “You should be proud that you’re such a good listener.”
I ignore the men, instead focusing on my brave sister. She was amazing tonight. I was so scared for her, but I realize now that we’re safe, and in spite of everything—“I’m glad you know how to fight.”
“Really?” she asks, her eyes looking to me with something akin to hope.
“I always want you safe. That is more important to me than anything else. I’m sorry I reacted poorly, and in the future”—I let a hint of sternness creep into my voice—“I expect you to tell me things.”
“I promise.”
* * *
We ought to be exhausted while traveling the next day, but the attack has made all of us hyperaware of our surroundings. I haven’t been able to calm down from full alertness yet.
Still, I need a distraction from the constant terror of wolf mauling.
“Petrik, what do you know of other magic users in the world today?” I ask, hoping to move the conversation in such a way as to help me figure out what to do with Secret Eater.
Petrik is delighted by the question. “Though I’m sure there are many magic users in the world who keep their abilities a secret, there’s only one other who is widely known like you are: the cotton spinner. While you take the ores from the land and shape them into magicked weapons, she takes the plants of the earth and spins them into illusions.”
I’ve heard stories of cloaks of invisibility and masks of disguise. The merchants and mercenaries who pass through our city bring many exciting tales. I don’t hear them myself, of course. I hear them secondhand from Temra.
What I hadn’t expected was that there were only two of us who advertised our abilities. I thought surely there must be more, even if I hadn’t heard of them before.
“The witch hunts of a century ago really wiped out most of those with magic,” Petrik explains, as though reading my thoughts. “Bloodlines known to carry magic were basically made extinct. Now that magic is no longer outlawed, I hope we’ll begin to see the ability spread.”
I’ve often wondered if that’s who came after Mother and Father. Someone with a violent hatred of magic. But that doesn’t explain why they killed Father.
Or why they left Temra and me alive.
“In all your studies,” I say, “have you ever read about anyone else with an ability like mine? Aside from my mother?”
“I have not, I’m sorry to say. I’ve read about those with control over many of the planet’s natural resources. Clay, plants, water, wood, minerals, animals—even the people themselves.” Petrik grimaces at the last one. “While others before you have used metals and minerals in other ways, you’re the only one I know of to combine magic with forging.
“I came across an old children’s book that talked of a man who could skip rocks great distances over the surface of the water,” Petrik continues. “There was a witch back in the day who could bend silver into any shape she wanted. She was the one to create a common currency throughout all of Ghadra, shaping the metal into coins. There are tales of an old woman who could call grains of sand to her. She could move them where she liked, make them form together to build extraordinary things: a house, a fence, the wall around a city.
“I’m afraid no one interviewed your mother or recorded her abilities. That is why I’m doing this. Life can be fleeting, and we don’t want any more knowledge lost.”
“I’m sorry if our mother’s death was an inconvenience for you,” Temra suddenly bites out.
“Oh, I didn’t mean—Temra, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have phrased it so carelessly. I only meant that what happens in our world is precious and should always be remembered. Your mother should be remembered.”
Somewhat appeased by his words, she says quietly, “I wish I could remember her. I was too young when she died.”
In my memory, she was nothing short of perfect. Beautiful, soothing, loving. I should tell Temra this, but my eyes sting just to think of her. My most vivid memory of her was shortly before she died.
I was so angry with Temra because she was playing with one of my dolls.
“I hate her,” my five-year-old self said. “We should get rid of her.”
“You want me to get rid of your sister? What should we do with her? Put her out in the street? Toss her out with the garbage? What do you think would happen to her?”
I remember feeling a little guilty, but I still thought life would be better without someone taking my things.