storytelling was a trade.
When Han realized Bird hadn’t answered, he repeated, “Have you decided on a trade?”
Bird looked up at him. “I’m going to be a warrior,” she said, giving him a steely eye as if daring him to object.
“A warrior!” He blinked at her, then blurted, “What does Willo say?”
“She doesn’t know,” Bird said, digging her toes into the rug. “Don’t tell her.”
Willo might be disappointed, Han thought. Having no daughter of her own, she probably hoped Bird would follow her as matriarch and healer. Even though Bird wasn’t exactly the nurturing type.
“How many warriors does Marisa Pines need?” he asked.
“I want to go to Demonai,” Bird said, hunching her shoulders.
“Really?” Bird was aiming high. The Demonai warriors were legendary fighters and hunters. It was said they could survive in the woods for weeks on wind and rain and sunlight. That one Demonai warrior was a match for a hundred soldiers.
Personally, Han thought they were an arrogant lot who kept to themselves and never cracked a smile and tried to make you think they were privy to secrets that you would never know.
“Who are you supposed to fight?” Han asked. “I mean, it’s been years since we’ve had a war in the uplands.”
Bird looked annoyed at his lack of enthusiasm. “They’re spilling enough blood down south,” she said. “Refugees have been flooding into the mountains. There’s always a chance the fighting will spread up here.” She sounded almost like she hoped it would.
In the chaos following the Breaking, Arden, Tamron, and Bruinswallow had broken away from the Fells. Now the flatlands to the south were embroiled in an incessant civil war. Han’s father had signed on as a mercenary soldier, gone south and died there. But there had been peace in the north for a millennium.
“Willo’s worried,” Bird went on when Han didn’t respond. “Some wizards are saying that they let go of power too easily, that it’s time to return to having wizard kings. They think wizard kings could help protect us against armies from the south.” She shook her head, looking disgusted. “People have such short memories.”
“It’s been a thousand years,” Han pointed out, and received a scowl in return. “Anyway, Queen Marianna wouldn’t let that happen,” he added. “Nor would the High Wizard.”
“Some people say she’s not a strong queen,” Bird said. “Not like the queens in the past. Some say the wizards are gaining too much power.”
Han wondered who “some people” were, who had all these opinions. “Anyway, aren’t you afraid of getting killed? Being a warrior, I mean?” He couldn’t help thinking of his father. How different his life would be if he were still alive.
Bird snorted in disgust. “Don’t tell me there’s not going to be any war, and then warn me I might get killed.”
The thing was, Han knew Bird would make a great warrior. Though she hadn’t Han’s muscle, she was better with a bow than he was. Better at woodcraft. Better at tracking. She could look over a broken landscape and know where the deer lay hidden. She was better at anticipating the moves of a possible enemy. She’d outfoxed him all his life.
And there was nothing she liked better than stalking things.
He looked up to find her watching him, as if eager for a response.
“You’ll make a great warrior, Digging Bird,” he told her, grinning. “It’s perfect. Good choice.” He took her hand and squeezed it.
She beamed at him, blinking back tears, and he was amazed that his approval meant so much to her. He was even more amazed when she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.
She stood, picked up the basin, and ducked out between the hides.
“Bird!” he called after her, thinking that if she was in a kissing mood, he was happy to oblige. But by the time he got the word out, she was gone.
When Han returned to the common room, Bird was gone, and Willo and Dancer were sitting knee
When Han realized Bird hadn’t answered, he repeated, “Have you decided on a trade?”
Bird looked up at him. “I’m going to be a warrior,” she said, giving him a steely eye as if daring him to object.
“A warrior!” He blinked at her, then blurted, “What does Willo say?”
“She doesn’t know,” Bird said, digging her toes into the rug. “Don’t tell her.”
Willo might be disappointed, Han thought. Having no daughter of her own, she probably hoped Bird would follow her as matriarch and healer. Even though Bird wasn’t exactly the nurturing type.
“How many warriors does Marisa Pines need?” he asked.
“I want to go to Demonai,” Bird said, hunching her shoulders.
“Really?” Bird was aiming high. The Demonai warriors were legendary fighters and hunters. It was said they could survive in the woods for weeks on wind and rain and sunlight. That one Demonai warrior was a match for a hundred soldiers.
Personally, Han thought they were an arrogant lot who kept to themselves and never cracked a smile and tried to make you think they were privy to secrets that you would never know.
“Who are you supposed to fight?” Han asked. “I mean, it’s been years since we’ve had a war in the uplands.”
Bird looked annoyed at his lack of enthusiasm. “They’re spilling enough blood down south,” she said. “Refugees have been flooding into the mountains. There’s always a chance the fighting will spread up here.” She sounded almost like she hoped it would.
In the chaos following the Breaking, Arden, Tamron, and Bruinswallow had broken away from the Fells. Now the flatlands to the south were embroiled in an incessant civil war. Han’s father had signed on as a mercenary soldier, gone south and died there. But there had been peace in the north for a millennium.
“Willo’s worried,” Bird went on when Han didn’t respond. “Some wizards are saying that they let go of power too easily, that it’s time to return to having wizard kings. They think wizard kings could help protect us against armies from the south.” She shook her head, looking disgusted. “People have such short memories.”
“It’s been a thousand years,” Han pointed out, and received a scowl in return. “Anyway, Queen Marianna wouldn’t let that happen,” he added. “Nor would the High Wizard.”
“Some people say she’s not a strong queen,” Bird said. “Not like the queens in the past. Some say the wizards are gaining too much power.”
Han wondered who “some people” were, who had all these opinions. “Anyway, aren’t you afraid of getting killed? Being a warrior, I mean?” He couldn’t help thinking of his father. How different his life would be if he were still alive.
Bird snorted in disgust. “Don’t tell me there’s not going to be any war, and then warn me I might get killed.”
The thing was, Han knew Bird would make a great warrior. Though she hadn’t Han’s muscle, she was better with a bow than he was. Better at woodcraft. Better at tracking. She could look over a broken landscape and know where the deer lay hidden. She was better at anticipating the moves of a possible enemy. She’d outfoxed him all his life.
And there was nothing she liked better than stalking things.
He looked up to find her watching him, as if eager for a response.
“You’ll make a great warrior, Digging Bird,” he told her, grinning. “It’s perfect. Good choice.” He took her hand and squeezed it.
She beamed at him, blinking back tears, and he was amazed that his approval meant so much to her. He was even more amazed when she leaned over and kissed him on the mouth.
She stood, picked up the basin, and ducked out between the hides.
“Bird!” he called after her, thinking that if she was in a kissing mood, he was happy to oblige. But by the time he got the word out, she was gone.
When Han returned to the common room, Bird was gone, and Willo and Dancer were sitting knee
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