“I’m surprised they let you enter, being an Elsie. I can’t wait for the practical round. We can all take bets on how fast you’ll be eaten.”
“Or how fast you’ll be eating your words,” Viola countered.
Tadg’s gaze turned to her. She still wore her scarf down over her face. He squinted at her. “You look familiar.”
She snapped her mouth shut, as though she hadn’t meant to speak. Then she yanked the scarf down lower. “Doubt it.”
“You’re the Dumont girl! The daughter of the Grand Keeper.”
The others around them stopped chattering to stare.
The Grand Keeper?Barclay thought. No wonder everyone treated Viola like a princess. Her father wasn’t just “important”—he was the head of the Lore Keeper world!
“No, no,” she said quickly, her voice weaker than Barclay had ever heard it. “You’re mistaking me for—”
“I thought you were apprenticed to the Horn of Dawn?” Tadg asked.
Viola seemed to give up trying to lie, but she still stared at her boots. “I was—I mean, I am. I’m not competing. I’m here to support my friend.”
Tadg peered at Barclay more curiously, then he scoffed, “An Elsie isn’t worth your support.”
Barclay pulled Viola away, then he spotted the twins waving at them from the edge of the snowy courtyard and headed toward them.
“We saw Tadg giving you trouble,” said Abel. He dried the snow off his strange cards with his threadbare sweater. Up close, Barclay saw that all the cards had people drawn on them—the top one was of Runa Rasgar, the scar on her face just as gruesome as it had looked in person.
“Seems like there’s a club,” his sister mumbled. Around her shoulders, she carried a backpack near to bursting with notebooks and Beast-like figurines. It looked too heavy to carry, but the girl seemed unfazed by its weight.
“What did you say to him earlier that made him so angry?” Barclay asked.
Abel shrugged. “You know… He looks for reasons to be angry. He doesn’t like anyone who doesn’t fawn all over him just because he has a Mythic class Beast.”
Barclay seemed to remember it was Abel who had started the argument, but knowing Tadg, Barclay didn’t blame him.
“Itiskind of impressive,” the girl said, sighing wistfully. “I’d love to see it, just once. I could sketch it or take some notes. I’ve never—”
“Traitor,” Abel muttered.
His sister shrugged, then she stuck out her hand for Barclay to shake. “I’m Ethel Zader. This is Abel, my brother.”
“I’m Viola, and this is Barclay,” Viola told them.
“Is it true that you’re the daughter of the Grand Keeper? And you’re from the towns beyond the Woods?”
Viola and Barclay both nodded hesitantly.
Ethel and Abel smiled, a matching starry look in their brown eyes. “That’s neat,” they said together.
Barclay had been prepared for more snickering, so their eagerness was a surprise. Bullies like Tadg and Falk he was used to. Friends… not so much.
“We’re from the Woods,” Abel said blandly. “Just like nearly all the Lore Masters and students. It’ll be really competitive this year for apprenticeships. The good ones, anyway.” He had a look on his face like he liked the challenge.
“Competitive” wasn’t what Barclay wanted to hear.
“What makes an apprenticeship good?” asked Barclay.
“The fame of the Master!” Abel answered. “The places you’ll travel, Beasts you’ll encounter. The farther and more powerful, the better!”
Barclay smiled weakly. “If you say so.”
