35. Maddy

Chapter 35

Maddy

S arra's back at her workshop table and looking much more herself when I rush in that evening.

"How are you feeling?" I ask her.

"Much, much better, thank you," she says. "I don't know what happened."

"I'm sorry if it was because of me," I tell her.

"Nobody knows you sleep down here, do they?"

"They could follow me. I know Kain does," I answer.

"Well, they didn't take anything. I checked."

"That's good," I say. "Did you report it to the Valkyrie?"

She shakes her head. "No, but I did inform the thrallmaster. So hopefully, if it happens again, we'll have more to go on."

"I'm sure it won't happen again," I say, although I'm not sure at all. I'm just saying it to try to make her feel better.

"What's new with you?" she asks .

I tell her I just heard Inga say that she's seeing a bear too.

"A bear?" Sarra asks.

"I know. That means if I ever move into the Bear Wing, she's going to be there too." I sigh.

"That is interesting, though, that both of you had your staffs destroyed, and now both of you are the first to get your magic another way."

I look at her thoughtfully. "So, you think if other rooks start destroying their staffs and ruining their access to their magic, Featherblade will give it to them in a different way?"

She shrugs. "No fae I know is going to risk that."

"Agreed," I tell her.

We work together quietly for the rest of the evening, having the odd conversation about my shield design or what she is studying. But I struggle to sleep that night. This time, instead of Kain on his flaming wolf, it's Kain on his flaming wolf next to Inga riding a flaming bear.

The next morning, I'm treated to a sharp reminder of where I am, and why I'm here.

"Fridays are now the Wild Hunt days," Erik says, clapping his hands together as we're all eating breakfast in the feast hall. "And today, two of you will head out on the Oskorela , and we shall see you return tomorrow, hopefully victorious and with rewards."

My heart hammers in my chest .

Please not me, please not me, please not me. I'm not ready, absolutely not ready. My shield's not rebuilt, I don't know how to control Thyrvi, I don't ? —

He speaks again, cutting off my wildly running thoughts.

"Today will be Merit and Staffan," he says. Merit and Staffan exchange uneasy glances, but they both stand, and everybody claps and cheers. I join in, throwing as much enthusiasm behind it as I can, figuring they're going to need all the confidence that they can get. There's a sudden energy in the room, a tense, tightly coiled nervousness.

"So this will happen every single Friday now?" someone whispers.

Eldith looks at me. "Fates, I don't feel as ready for this as I thought I would," she says quietly. The fact that the older woman, who's clearly much better at Valkyrie training than I am, is saying that does not fill me with confidence, but I give her the best smile I can.

"You'll ace it, Eldith, and you'll come back with something to make you even stronger."

"Like what?" she says.

"I don't know." What I do know is that Featherblade is absolutely packed with secrets. But I just say, "With any luck we'll all find out very soon, and without any more deaths." I instantly regret saying death , because she gives me a dark look, and then goes back to eating her porridge.

Nobody really knows what to do with themselves once we see Staffan and Merit out of the feast hall with shouts of good luck.

My nervous energy is running at an all-time high, and I'm having trouble even keeping one thought in my head in a straight line. I have to do something. I can't just spend all day in the forge on the shield—I know I can't.

I need to work out how to control this magic by next week. If my name is called, there is no way I can survive out there without Thyrvi. I need somewhere quiet to go, somewhere I can actually concentrate, or at least work out how to try to get just one thought in my head at a time.

My thoughts land on the small glade. It's very, very quiet there, and if I hide under the sweep of the tree, another rook could walk straight past and not even know I'm there.

Making my mind up, I load up my larger pouch with food from the table and head out. It's just as quiet as I remember when I get there, and it's cooler today than usual, a strong breeze whipping through the hanging willow.

I close my eyes and drink in the change in temperature. It's delicious, but I wish it were colder. Snow falls gently above me. I open my eyes and sigh as a snowflake lands on my eyelashes. I really, really need to get control of this. I slump against the tree, blushing slightly as I remember last time that I was by this tree, and head to the gallery.

I'm looking for any memory of anything I've ever been told that might help me learn to concentrate. I'm there for about an hour, coming back to reality and watching memories of the old scholar talking to my sister, or the occasional abstract memory of overheard conversations from people at parties.

Nothing is helpful because nothing applies to the way my brain works, and I know it almost instantly every time I replay a conversation that the people speaking never knew was being recorded.

I can't keep avoiding my true worry. Do I really have to give up the gallery in order to be able to control my magic?

There was something in what Brynhild said that's still resonating. As long as the pull of the gallery is a constant presence in my mind, which it always has been and I assume always will be, then I guess my mind is never truly empty. It's never truly just on the bear.

What if I concentrated on the bear statue in the gallery, I wonder? Even as I think it, I'm transported, whizzing along until I reach the memory I created of Thyrvi the first time I saw her, the giant crystal bear before me. I reach out for it and let the memory of when I first saw her wash over me. But when I slip back to reality, a shout drowns out the roar of the Frost Giant in the memory.