"You've been fortunate not to run into serious danger up to this point," Wake said as we prepared to part ways the next morning. "I hope that luck continues with you for the remainder of your journey."
I frowned skeptically. No danger? What about the nokk? What about when we were hiding from the hoaks?
"Thank you," Mother said politely. "And thank you for guiding us. We are truly grateful."
Wake nodded. She ruffled my unruly hair with a smile. "Come and visit me again someday."
I grinned back. "I will," I promised.
Mother cleared her throat. "Let's go, Tiff."
Wake raised her hand in farewell, then strode in the direction that led to her river. I stood and watched her for a moment, but my mother tugged on my hand to urge me along.
Our progress down the mountain was steady and uneventful. Our midday meal was brief, as I could see that Mother was anxious to keep moving. We reached the foothills by late afternoon, which brought a sigh of relief from both of us.
"I'm tired," I complained, even though I knew that I had the better stamina of the two of us.
Mother nodded as she knelt by the edge of the river that ran around the mountain base. She splashed some cold water on her face, smoothing her hair back with her wet hands. I did the same, but I didn't bother trying to make myself look presentable.
"We need to get to the village before nightfall," Mother said, getting to her feet.
I bit my lip. "We'll have to move fast."
"Yes," she agreed. "Let's go."
My mother wasn't weak by any means. We survived through her hard work and determination. In fact, I would argue that she worked harder than any of the laborers in the village. I'd seen her push past her exhaustion more times than I could count, so I was familiar with the stony expression that set her face as she began walking briskly.
I kept pace with her, making sure that I didn't allow myself to get distracted by interesting rocks or plants that I saw along the way.
I suddenly remembered Wake's comment about magic in music, so I sang a little nonsense song to try and energize us both.
Rocks are rocky, clouds are cloudy,
Nuts are nutty, and mud is muddy.
But birds are not birdy, and sticks are not sticky,
Bees are not beesy, and trees are not treesy.
Mother laughed, even though she was out of breath. I grinned at her reaction, feeling proud of myself. Her face appeared less strained, which made me hope that I'd been successful in my endeavor.
Even though I had cheered her up, the emotion was fleeting. I could see Mother's expression darken again as we continued.
Our journey had taken us almost three full days, which didn't seem like much in the scheme of things. However, I didn't know how quickly Aunt Ellie's sickness would progress. Had we been fast enough, or were we too late?
We arrived at the village just as the last rays of light were scattering in the sky. Mother rushed us to the cobbler shop, looking pale and anxious. She hated being in the village after dark. That was when the cowards came out to try and prove themselves strong.
Mother rapped her knuckles on the cobbler's door, glancing over her shoulder more than once. The door opened a crack, revealing one of Master Heele's brown eyes.
"Eva," he exclaimed, unlocking the bar latch and opening the door for us. "What are you doing here?"
We were hurried inside and the door was secured behind us. Master Heele led the way to the side room, where the table was set for supper. Tsuki was sitting at the table, waiting for his teacher's return. When he spotted us, his eyes widened and he scrambled to replace his wooden mask.
His face flushed red as if he was embarrassed by being seen. I didn't get a clear view, but I hadn't noticed any deformities or unsightly features. I wondered why he wore the mask at all.
Master Heele took note of his apprentice's rushed action and apologized. "I should've said we have guests."
Tsuki gave a half-shrug. "It's fine," he mumbled.
The cobbler urged us to sit, settling down across from Mother. "Why are you here at this hour?" he asked again.
She reached into her pouch to pull out the carefully wrapped herbs. "We went to the mountain to find alpine clusters for my sister," she explained.
Master Heele gasped. "You found some?"
Mother nodded. "I need you to take it to the physician who is treating her illness."
He immediately got to his feet. "Of course."
"But," Mother hesitated, glancing at me, "I want you to…ask Master Westerly for permission for us to use my great-aunt's house again."
I frowned. She'd always avoided asking my grandfather for any favors, no matter how small. Also, she insisted that we were fine living on our own in the forest. I couldn't understand why she was suddenly changing her mind.
Master Heele gently received the medicine from her hand. "I understand. I will make sure it happens." He turned to his apprentice. "Make them comfortable, please. Eat dinner, then make up a bed for them. It will be best if everyone stays the night."
Tsuki answered softly. "Yes, teacher."
"Lock the door after I leave," he warned.
"Yes, teacher."
Tsuki followed the instructions meticulously. He retrieved extra dishes and utensils, serving us each a bowl of thick stew and warm slices of bread. I watched him to see if he would take his mask off again, but he didn't. He sat with us, but he didn't eat.
We ate in silence, feeling the minutes tick by with weighted expectations. Mother looked unusually nervous, although I didn't know why. We'd found the medicine, so the problem was solved. I tried to start a conversation, but neither of my companions appeared inclined to speak.
I found myself studying the young apprentice, just so I'd have something to do. I'd never met anyone from another kingdom before, so I was curious about what made them different from us.
My homeland is called Talva, although at that age I didn't bother with such information. There are three neighboring kingdoms, all of which are considered allies. The majority of the conflict we experienced came from within our own borders, as was also the case in Navon—the country where Tsuki was born. Master Heele had called him a refugee, but at the time I only had a vague idea of what that meant.
Tsuki's black hair had a bluish tint to it that I hadn't noticed before. He kept it longer than the other boys in the village, with the tips curling at the nape of his neck. It looked so silky that I had the urge to touch it to see if it felt as smooth as it appeared.
His eyes were large, and the gray color shimmered in the lamplight. He didn't look directly at either of us, but I could still see them clearly. He reminded me of a fawn trying to be unseen, but not quite succeeding.
"Aren't you hungry?" I finally asked bluntly.
He jumped at the sound of my voice, staring at me with wide eyes. "No," he stammered. "I'm fine."
Mother placed a hand on my forearm, silently reminding me to be polite. I didn't ask any more questions, but the one seemed enough to scare him away. He mumbled something about making beds and hurried from the room.
With him gone, I was left to turn my attention to my mother. My lips pressed together and I folded my arms across my chest. "Why do you want to live in Auntie's house? I thought you said we were fine where we are."
"We are fine," Mother acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean we couldn't be more comfortable. Do you like spending winter in our hut?"
"Better than being so close to the village," I said stubbornly.
"No one will bother us," she assured me.
I made a skeptical sound. "Would we move back in the spring?"
She hesitated. "We'll see."
I dramatically slumped down in my chair. "Ugh," I moaned. "I don't want to go there."
Mother tsked at me. "I thought you liked Auntie's house. You were the one that suggested that we move there, remember?"
I stuck my bottom lip out. "I changed my mind."
She smiled faintly. "Why?"
I didn't know how to put my newfound feelings into words. My experience on the mountain changed the way I viewed our simple life. Before, I had valued anything that made daily tasks easier. Anything that reduced the amount of firewood to gather, foraging to be done, clothes to sew, or medicine to find.
But now…
Now, I didn't seem to mind the idea of those things. It seemed worthwhile to suffer a little in order to stay close to my home of trees.
The only move that interested me would be to move to the mountain where Wake and Budding lived. I didn't dare mention that to Mother, though.
"What about our doves?" I demanded. "And how will we move all of our belongings?"
"Don't worry about that," she dismissed. "The doves can take care of themselves, and we don't have much to take with us."
Tsuki appeared at the doorway. "I've made a place for you to sleep if you're tired. I know you've had a long journey."
Mother stood and straightened her clothes. "Go to bed, Tiff. I'll stay up to wait for Master Heele."
I wasn't eager to be sent away, so I hurried to find an excuse. "I'll…wash the dishes first."
I jumped to my feet, moving before Mother could say anything. I gathered up the leftover food, returning it to the kitchen to keep warm until Master Heele returned. There wasn't enough for Tsuki to eat as well, so I decided to make something for him.
I set the dishes aside to be washed later, turning my attention to the pantry. There was still plenty of bread, and I spotted some cheese and some fresh greens. I set to make him a sandwich, adding in all of my favorite flavors.
"Tsuki," I called when it was ready.
He responded promptly, but he seemed nervous about getting too close to me. I set the sandwich on the counter farthest from me, which had the advantage of allowing him to face away from anyone who was in the kitchen.
"Eat," I ordered shortly.
Then I turned my back to him, pretending to be completely preoccupied with washing the dishes and cleaning up.
I reminded myself not to peek at him, even though I was curious about what the rest of his face looked like. He must have his reasons for wearing the mask, and it wasn't respectful for me to try and see past it.
To avoid unnecessary temptation, I left the kitchen as soon as I was done cleaning. I went back to the side room, where Mother was seated by the fireplace. She appeared to have located Master Heele's mending basket, and she was already to work sewing.
"Not back yet?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Not yet. You can go to bed, Tiff. It may be a while."
"I'm not sleepy," I declared, settling down into a chair next to her.
"Very well," she said sweetly, handing me the basket. "You can help me with the mending."
I immediately got back to my feet. "I'm very sleepy. I should go to bed. Goodnight, Mother."
She chuckled. "Goodnight, my darling."
I made a silly face at her as I walked out of the room. Since I wasn't looking where I was going, I bumped into Tsuki after a few steps. He hurried to back up, as if he'd been the one to make the mistake.
"Sorry," he murmured.
I lurched forward and grabbed his wrist. "Do you want to play a game?" I asked impulsively.
His eyes widened. "A game?"
"I don't want to go to bed," I whispered conspiratorially.
Tsuki stared at me for several moments without speaking. I was about to give up on the idea when he finally responded. "Do you like to play yoso?"
I searched my memory. "I've never heard of that game."
"Would you like me to teach you?" he asked hopefully.
I shrugged. "Sure."
Tsuki ran to another room and returned with a drawstring bag. He led the way to the kitchen, where we could sit at the counter to play. The drawstring bag contained two smaller bags and a square of leather that had a grid drawn on it.
The smaller bags held wooden tokens of different colors, each inscribed with the symbol of one of the four main elements (fire, air, water, earth). The idea of the game was to take turns placing a token on the grid to create the most balanced formation possible (keeping compatible elements together)—while sabotaging the other player's formation, of course.
I was a slow learner, but Tsuki was very patient with me. He even began to gently tease me after our first game.
"Fire isn't the only way to attack, you know," he said with a smile in his voice.
"Fire is the strongest," I protested.
"No element is stronger than the others," he pointed out. "That's a basic law of nature."
"I think I know more about nature than you," I said, sticking out my tongue. "I'm half-tiernan."
He seemed surprised by my bold statement. "Tiernan aren't the only ones who know about nature and magic."
"You're just bothered because I'm a born genius at this game," I joked.
Tsuki laughed softly. "You're terrible at this game, and you know it."
"I'll get better!"
At the shop door, we heard someone knocking loudly. We fell silent, looking at each other nervously.
"It might be my teacher," Tsuki suggested, getting to his feet.
I stayed where I was, suddenly wondering if it was dangerous for the villagers to know that we were staying there for the night. Would they care, or would they just ignore us?
The indistinct murmur of voices reached my ears, along with heavy footsteps. I gathered up the game to put it away, telling myself to stay calm.
Tsuki reappeared, looking relieved. "Master Heele has returned."
"What happened?" I asked eagerly.
He shook his head. "I don't know. He's talking to your mother now."
I quietly walked over to the side room doorway, keeping out of sight so I could listen without being noticed. It wasn't that I thought they were talking about anything secret. It was just that I'd told my mother that I was going to bed, which I obviously hadn't.
"…very adamant."
"I understand," Mother's voice replied. "I'm glad they accepted the medicine anyway."
"The physician seems hopeful for Miss Elsabetta's recovery."
I heard Mother sigh in relief, then there was a pause.
"What did my…Master Westerly say about the house?"
"Well…" I could imagine Master Heele shifting from foot to foot in discomfort. "I had to be rather forceful on that point."
"What do you mean?"
"At first he seemed to prefer to reject the medicine altogether, let alone grant you a favor. It took some arguing from me and the physician to convince him that wasn't an option."
"He would sacrifice his daughter's health for his pride?" Mother fumed.
Master Heele hesitated. "I think he would've accepted the medicine on its own, but…"
"What is it?"
"I told him that I'd only give the medicine if he granted the favor."
I heard Mother gasp. "Master Heele!"
"I know, I know," he soothed, "but you know he wouldn't have agreed otherwise."
There was a few seconds of silence.
"He agreed?" she finally asked.
This time it was the cobbler who sounded upset. "He agreed on one condition."
"What condition?"
Master Heele huffed indignantly. "He said that you could stay there as long as no one else needs the house, but you must swear that your child will never set foot in the village again."
My face flushed with a surge of emotions.
Banish me from the village? How dare he! He had no right to tell me where I was allowed to go. But also, did he think that was a punishment? Good riddance to the whole lot of them! I'd leave Three Valleys entirely if I could convince Mother to go.
"I'll stay out," I volunteered, stepping into the light of the room. "I hate going there, anyway."
Mother and Master Heele jumped when they saw me. They both looked guilty, even though they'd done nothing wrong.
"Tiff," Mother began.
"I don't care," I emphasized.
"I was hoping to send you to school," she said softly.
I made a face at the thought. "No, thank you. I'll just learn at home like I always have."
She didn't look happy at the prospect, but we both knew that there wasn't much of a choice. Either manage another cold winter in our hut or spend the winter more comfortably with me promising to stay away from the village.
"Don't worry," I reassured her. "Budding will be coming in the spring anyway. I'll spend all my time in the forest with her."
I'd thought that my words would cheer her up, but Mother's expression became even more grave.