“You need to stop this. Stop going to him,” she snapped at Tadg. “It won’t change anything.”
Tadg ripped his arm away from her. “I don’t have to listen to you. What happened was your fault too.”
They’re talking about his father,Barclay realized with shock.
“That’s not fair.” Runa’s voice nearly shook from anger.
“Then tell me I’m wrong.”
When Runa didn’t answer, Tadg growled, “I thought so.”
Then he turned around and stormed away. Barclay, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, ducked around the corner, his back against the crooked stone wall.
“I don’t want to hear about you going to the Bog’s Inn again!” Runa shouted after him.
“Then stop listening!” Tadg called back.
Tadg passed Barclay without noticing him, and Barclay let out a strangled breath. If Tadg was visiting the Bog’s Inn, then that proved that Tadg and Soren were working together. Which meant it didn’t matter what Barclay thought about Root or the world of Lore Keepers.
Surviving the second exam could be just as hard as passing it.
He ran the entire way back to the Ironwood Inn, as though he could sense a monster chasing him.
SEVENTEEN
The morning of the second round of the Exhibition, all the students and the Lore Masters gathered at the edge of Sycomore. The sky was gray from an oncoming blizzard, and snow whipped across the street, stinging Barclay’s already sleep-deprived, bloodshot eyes. This exam’s proctors, Floriane and Athna, distributed pieces of parchment and canvas bags while Erhart spoke at the crowd’s center.
“The second exam is a scavenger hunt,” he told them. He was bundled up so heavily that only his blue eyes were visible between his wooly hat and scarf. “You will have three hours within the Woods to collect the items on that parchment. Stow them in your bags, and return to this spot for the proctors to count them. Speed and correctness are important. You must finish quickly, and you must try to collect as many items as you can. Fewer items will result in a lower score.”
Ethel locked arms with Barclay. “We should work together!”
“We can do that?” he asked incredulously.
“Of course we can,” said Abel. “There aren’t rules, remember?”
After an entire night worrying about Soren and Tadg plotting his demise, Barclay’s hope rekindled. Ethel and Abel could protect him—they wouldn’t let him die, or fail.
When Floriane handed Barclay the list, his spirits lifted further. Viola had done a good job teaching him. Already he guessed the proper places to find all the items. And Soren, who usually watched him menacingly across the crowds, was nowhere to be seen.
“What are you smiling about?” Tadg asked Barclay as the students queued up at the starting line. “Eager to die, are you?”
Barclay’s skin prickled at his words. Ethel and Abel shot him suspicious, knowing glances. Last night Barclay had told them everything he’d overheard between Tadg and Runa.
“We’ll be waiting for you at the finish, fish food,” Abel told him.
“I told you to stop calling me that,” Tadg growled. Barclay realized Abel must’ve done so when he’d first overheard Abel and Tadg fighting in the Exhibition registration line.Considering how Tadg’s father had died, itwasa pretty mean thing to say.
“Make me,” Abel goaded.
Before Tadg could, however, Athna cleared her throat. With a voice surprisingly powerful for an old woman, she shouted, “Begin!”
The students sprinted into the forest. Even in the thick of the blizzard, Barclay was one of the fastest. Ethel and Abel panted to keep pace.
“Do you know where to find a river? Or a creek?” Barclay asked. “We can find the Stoolips, Tadpikes, and Garneeli by water.”
Ethel held up her arm to block the snow pelting her face. “I think there’s one to the north.”
They trudged through the snow. The weather made it difficult to seeandhear, so they didn’t notice they were nearing the stream until their boots were wet. Chunks of ice floated down the water.
