She woke at dawn, as light filtered, gray and dim, to the forest floor. Seated in front of her, back to her as if he were on guard, was a massive wolf. Naelin tensed, squeezing her children tighter, and she felt Erian and Llor shift, waking. She loosened her grip on them, wiggling one arm free. Her kitchen knife was in her pack . . . which she’d left up with the champion, of course. She cast around for anything that could be used as a weapon—a stout branch, a sharp rock.
Champion Ven spoke. “His name is Bayn.”
She swallowed, not trusting herself to speak. He was here, and he knew the wolf. That was . . . good? Champion Ven was leaning against the trunk of the tree, arms crossed, face in shadows. A streak of blood stained the sleeve of his armor. In the dim dawn light, it looked like rust. He looked like he’d walked directly out of a heroic ballad, and she felt instantly safer. Not safe, but safer. Her heart kept thudding fast, though. “He seems to have taken a liking to you,” he said.
In her arms, Erian woke and tried to stifle a scream—it came out as a shrill meep! The wolf turned his head to look at them. His yellow eyes fixed on Naelin. She didn’t move.
“Doggie?” Llor said, his voice mushy with sleep.
“He’s . . . tame?” Naelin’s voice only cracked a little. She licked her lips and tried again. Show no fear. “He won’t hurt us?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
Because he’s a wolf, Naelin thought. “Don’t mock me.”
“Never.”
She thought she detected a twinkle in his eye, but perhaps that was her imagination. Surely he didn’t have a sense of humor. Erian took the champion literally and addressed the wolf, “Hello, Mr. Wolf, are you planning to eat us?”
As if her question were beneath his dignity, the wolf looked away, scanning the forest once more. Around them, leaves rustled, and above birds chattered at one another, calling as they flew unseen from branch to branch. The forest was awakening as dawn filtered through the leaves.
“Nice doggie,” Llor murmured, and then yawned, as if it were perfectly normal to wake up next to a wolf.
After a few more minutes of no one being savaged by any wild animals, Naelin extradited herself from Erian and Llor and stood. Her muscles twinged, and her back ached. She hadn’t slept outside in years, and never as unprotected as this. She stretched her back and tried to shake out her foot, which tingled from being tucked underneath a not-so-small child for so long. At Champion Ven’s feet, nestled against the tree, were their packs—all the supplies that Naelin had left behind when she’d climbed with the children in the night. She didn’t see Captain Alet and felt a rush of alarm. “Is the captain all right?” Naelin asked.
“She’s fine, but you left us in danger. That’s not behavior appropriate for an heir.”
She considered for a moment how to reply to that. She knew he expected her to be abashed, or at least apologetic that she’d fled, but after searching her feelings, she decided she didn’t feel sorry at all. She settled on, “I’m glad that neither of you were hurt.” There, that was true.
“You agreed to be trained,” he said. “If you’re to survive the trials, you must be trained.”
“You agreed to keep my children safe,” she shot back. “If you want me to train, then tell me what you plan. No surprises. No assumptions. I will not be your performing monkey, dancing to your tunes without questions.” There. Let him respond to that.
“Mama likes explanations,” Erian spoke up. “If you tell her why you want to do something and show you’ve thought it through, she’ll consider it.” She was parroting something Naelin told them all the time. If they acted mature, she’d treat them as mature. She nodded approvingly at Erian. Nice to know she’d been listening.
Champion Ven sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Perhaps you’re right. I am used to candidates who need to be taught about spirits in the wild—they’ve spent years within the academy, learning to use their power within a highly controlled environment, and it’s my responsibility to throw them into the real world and teach them to adapt and bend, so that they don’t break. You, though, you already know about the dangers and unpredictability of the world. Perhaps what you need is the structure.”
Naelin blinked at him, unsure if that was an apology, an insult, or a compliment. She thought . . . maybe the latter? “Exactly what do you mean?”
“Tell me what you already know, and we’ll devise a lesson plan.”
He was trying very hard to be both nice and reasonable, which was impressive given how she had abandoned him to the spirits last night. “I won’t agree to any plan that endangers Erian or Llor.”
“You’ve made that clear.” She thought she heard a hint of amusement in his voice. He was laughing at her, or at least near her. “And Bayn apparently agrees with you. He’s been on guard all night.”
She looked at the wolf again. “Thank you.”
The wolf inclined his head as if he understood.
“If we’re in agreement . . . ?” the champion asked.
Naelin nodded, cautiously, still watching the wolf. She wasn’t certain she trusted this conciliatory mood of Ven’s. It felt like it should be some kind of trap, except he was agreeing with her. What’s the catch? Oh, right . . .
“I still haven’t agreed to become an heir.”
“It doesn’t matter. You still need to be trained.”
She stared at him. He stared back. And for the first time, she felt like she was with someone who saw who she was, all her strengths with all her faults, and . . . approved? “All right then.”
“All right. We begin today. Now.”
Chapter 11
Naelin saw Ven exhale, as if he’d been worried she’d refuse. Granted, she was still refusing to become an heir, but he must have been worried she’d refuse to train at all, after the stunt he’d pulled last night. Truthfully, she’d considered it. If he’d been a little less honest, a little less kind . . .
He settled himself on a root. “Have you ever summoned a spirit?”
“Never. And I won’t, not out here, not around Erian and Llor.” She used her this-is-not-open-to-debate voice. It worked well with her children; she wasn’t certain it would work at all with a champion.
“But you’ve sent spirits away? You’ve commanded them.”
She saw where this was going, and she didn’t like it. “Only when Renet forced me. Only what you saw. I’ll send them away again if I have to, but only if it’s necessary, and I won’t summon them. Not here, with us all alone and not enough charms.”
“I know you can sense spirits. Describe that to me.”
It felt like a change of subject—she’d been expecting an argument instead. She didn’t hesitate, though, and answered promptly, feeling like a schoolgirl. “It’s like a crackle in the air, like lightning about to strike.”