This time, it was Aunt Maddy who blinked. “Of course not. We just want to be there in case he needs anything.”
Aunt Maddy had just lied to her, Katie thought. She did not take offense; adults lied all the time, their reasons often as silly as those of children. But it was odd that, in a conversation that had contained so many other surprising bits of honesty, Aunt Maddy would feel the need to lie about this.
“We want to start your apprenticeship early, Katie. Next month. We want to train you, just as your mother and I were trained, to meet violence when it comes.”
“Why? What violence?”
Aunt Maddy’s face seemed to shutter. Even her eyes became blank with concealment.
“Probably no violence at all, Katie. This is just a precaution.”
Another lie, and Katie felt anger stir inside her now, a crouched animal, waiting.
“Does it have something to do with the graveyard?” she asked, thinking of those torn-open graves, their contents strewn pitifully across the grass. They said it was an animal, but privately, Katie had wondered. Wouldn’t animals have torn up the entire place? Whatever had dug into the ground had apparently targeted three or four specific graves.
“No,” Aunt Maddy replied. “But there may be other dangers. Consider yourself a preventative measure.”
“Just me?” Katie asked, thinking of her size. She wasn’t tiny, but she wasn’t tall either, and she was slight. If she had to fight a man with her bare hands, she would probably lose, training or no.
“No. We’ve chosen several young people. Your friend Virginia. Gavin Murphy. Jonathan Tear. Lear Williams. Jess Alcott. A few others.”
“But not Row?”
“No. Rowland Finn won’t be a part of this, and he’s to know nothing about it.”
For a moment, Katie felt her anger begin to uncoil. Row had so many gifts; why couldn’t the adults recognize them, at least once? The lack of acknowledgment hurt Row, though he did his best to hide it, and Katie felt that hurt as though it were part of herself.
“Do you want to do it?” Aunt Maddy asked.
Katie swallowed, trying to tame the animal inside her. She did want to do this, but it would mean keeping a secret from Row. Could she even do that? They had no secrets. Row knew everything about her.
“Can I think about it?”
“No.” Aunt Maddy’s voice was kind, but implacable. “You need to decide now.”
Katie stared at the ground, her thoughts racing. She did want to do this. She had never hidden anything from Row, but she thought she could, just this once. She wanted to be in on the secret.
“I’ll do it.”
Aunt Maddy smiled, then crooked her finger toward the house. Katie turned and saw William Tear striding toward them. Without thinking, she hopped off the bench to stand up straight. Aunt Maddy gave her shoulder one final squeeze before she left, but Katie barely noticed her go. The only other time she could remember being alone with William Tear was last year at dinner, when they had both gone to the kitchen for seconds at the same time. Katie had waited, frozen, not knowing what to say to him, relieved when he took his plate back to the table. Now was no better.
“No need to be frightened, Katie.” Tear settled himself into Aunt Maddy’s spot on the bench. “You’re not in trouble. I just want to talk to you.”
Katie nodded and sat back down, though a muscle in her leg was shaking and she had to fight to keep it still.
“Do you want this apprenticeship?”
“Yes.” Perversely, Katie felt her mouth wanting to open and let words tumble out: how she could keep a secret, how she would be a good fighter, never do anything to hurt the Town.
“I know,” Tear said, making Katie jump. “That’s a large part of the reason we’ve chosen you for this. It’s not all fighting and knives, Katie. All the training in the world is worth nothing without trust. I’ve watched you for years. You have a gift, one we’ve all observed, a gift for seeing through artifice. The Town will need that, and I won’t always be here.”
Katie stared at him, bewildered. She had never given much thought to Tear’s age, as she might do, idly, about the other adults in the Town. Tear had to be at least fifty, but that was just a number; Tear had no age, he simply was. But there was no mistaking the tone of his words.
“Are you sick, sir?”
“No.” Tear smiled. “I have years left in me, Katie. Just being cautious. Which brings us to this.”
Reaching beneath his wool sweater, Tear pulled out a tiny drawstring pouch that had been tied with a strip of deer thong. Katie had never noticed this pouch before, and she watched, interested, as Tear thumbed it open and dumped the contents into his palm: a sparkling, deep blue jewel—sapphire, Katie thought—its many facets reflecting the waning sun. Plenty of people in town had jewelry, brought with them in the Crossing, but Katie had never seen a gem of this size. Tear held it out to her, but for a moment she could only stare at it.
“Go on, take it.”