Viola laughed. “The world is alotbigger than just the Woods. There are six major regions to find Beasts, which we call the Wilderlands. There’s the Woods, the Desert, the Sea, the Jungle, the Tundra, and the Mountains. Six Wilderlands, six Legendary Beasts.”
Truthfully, Barclay had only heard rumors about such places in books. They must have been very far away indeed. The Woods had always seemed endless to him—an entire world to its own.
“Have you ever been to any of them?”
“I’ve been to the Desert, the Woods, the Jungle, and I live in the Mountains. Mitzi is a Mountain Beast as well. All dragons are.”
“What about places that aren’t the Wilderlands? Do they have a name?” Barclay asked.
“The Elsewheres,” Viola answered, shrugging.
Well, that certainly sounded insignificant. Barclay felt a bit snubbed on Dullshire’s behalf.
Then Viola snappedA Traveler’s Logclosed. “You know, I think I’ll buy this. I’m sure there’s loads I could learn about Gravaldor in here.”
She counted the number of coins left in her purse. Thenshe reached into her bag and pulled outanotherpurse, also full.
Barclay swallowed down the urge to ask how rich she was, deciding that was rather rude. Instead, he examined one of the heavy gold coins—one side engraved with a dragon, the other triangular peaks of what he guessed were the Mountains, though a few of them had trees instead. He frowned. “What kind of money is that?”
“It’s Lore money—kritters, we call it. You probably just have Elsewheres money, don’t you?”
A sick feeling filled Barclay’s stomach. He hadn’t even considered that Sycomore would use different money than Dullshire.
“Don’t worry,” Viola told him. “I’ll pay for removing your Mark.”
“No, definitely not,” said Barclay quickly. He was used to working for what he needed. No work meant no food—no charity, no exceptions.
She gave him a pointed look. “It’s no trouble. And it will be hard to find a Lore Keeper willing to help you for free.”
“Then I’ll find one who will takemymoney.”
“No one will. Just let me—”
Barclay groaned as she jingled her purse. He might have been an orphan, but he still had his pride. He left her to her errands and stormed out of the shop.
Even though he didn’t know his way around Sycomore, it wasn’t hard to find the Guild. It was the largest buildingin town, with a massive, snowy tree jutting right out of its center. To Barclay’s surprise, several tiles on its roof were missing, its windows caked with dirt, and its wooden frame termite-eaten. A fraying banner hung from the awning.
WOODS APPRENTICE EXHIBITION
60+ LORE MASTERS IN ATTENDANCE
ALL LORE KEEPERS AGES 9–14 WELCOME TO REGISTER
Several kids his age crowded beneath it. They were dressed as outrageously as the rest of Sycomore: tip-dyed pelts, clothes embroidered with golden thread, swords slung over their shoulders—all so different from the plain styles of Dullshire. Several had young Beasts growling at their feet or cradled in their arms.
“I heard the Horn of Dawn and the Fang of Dusk will be there,” one girl said excitedly.
“That’s why you’re here, right, Tadg?” another asked.
“The Horn of Dawn and the Fang of Dusk nearly killed each other in a duel to the death. You think they’d both be anywhere at the same time?”
The boy who answered—Tadg, Barclay assumed—had an unmistakable sneer in his voice. That didn’t seem to stop the other kids from watching him with wide, awestruck expressions. Tadg looked about Barclay’s age, withfair skin and light brown curls that shadowed his cold, bored expression. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing a golden Beast Mark that coiled and snaked across his hand and reappeared above his collar—so large it covered his entire arm.
Barclay didn’t know this boy, but he reminded him of Falk. Kids who only got to be leaders by acting smug and better than everyone else.
Barclay ignored the group as he strode toward bulletin boards covered in hundreds of pieces of parchment. They said things likeLICENSED SURVEYORS NEEDED TO EXCAVATE VALUABLE LOST BEAST ARTIFACTSandKEEPERS TO HELP SAVE THE FELSNIPS FROM EXTINCTIONandGUARDIANS NEEDED TO PROTECT TOWN FROM PACK OF MISKREATS.
Each of them offered a reward.
