Nokom made Kellen run through “the dance of his people” a dozen more times before she was satisfied with their progress. In that time, the spark of mana grew to a trickle, and when they’d finished the twelfth attempt, Kellen felt it coursing through his veins like he’d just chugged an energy drink, minus the existential dread and anxiety that normally followed whenever he had caffeine. The old woman seemed to be converted to his unorthodox methods. When she asked if he knew any others and he tried the YMCA song, however, she drew the line.

“It’s like you’re presenting yourself as a target. You’re just asking to be killed.”

Before they moved on, Nokom had him practice her dance while Kellen’s mana was still warmed up, as he thought of it. To his surprise, it came much easier. Whether that was due to him relaxing with a little reminder of home or if the mana made him move less like a scarecrow and more like a living person with knees and hips, he wasn’t sure. But progress was progress.

“Good,” the old woman said. “Instead of a frozen frog, you are more like a newborn colt now. Each morning you will practice these dances, yours and mine, after your finish your exercises. At night, you will sit still and work on listening and refreshing your beast heart and Vex. Understood?”

Kellen nodded, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand. Aside from dirty clothes and a general stench, he realized for the first time that he hadn’t shaved and likely sported a patchy layer of scruff, based on how much his neck itched. The last time he’d checked, he didn’t have the beard power to grow one out like a mountain man, and hoped he could find something better than a knife to shave with.

They’d been given the morning off to practice the mana dance, but from there on out, Nokom told him he would rise before the others to build his body before they started riding. The workout routine included push-ups, squats and other calisthenics, plus running. Nokom attributed half of his dancing struggles with overall tightness in his muscles and put him through a grueling stretching exercise. Kellen had never done yoga but he imagined if a drill sergeant was allowed to run a class, it would have been similar to Nokom’s style.

Finally, they actually practiced using the mana he’d spent all morning tending to.

“Channeling mana is not as simple as waving your hands and seeing something happen,” Nokom said. “There is pattern to it, just as there is a pattern to all things in nature.”

“But yesterday, I literally saw you make a ball of wind in your hands and push it at that bird,” Kellen said. “And each time I’ve done it, I was just throwing my hands out in front of me.”

“A person can blindfold themselves and guess if it is night or day,” Nokom said. “If they guess enough, they will be right sometimes. That does not make them a prophet.”

Kellen decided it was best to stop talking before Nokom came up with another form of punishment to go with the rest of her prairie cross training regimen. The old woman waited, almost daring him to say something else. Kellen didn’t fall for it. Fortunately, Vex was distracted by a butterfly at the same moment and couldn’t dig them any deeper, either.

“Each form of mana is channeled in slightly different ways,” Nokom said, “just as a thunderstorm and wildfire are different. But at the heart of any dance or ability is the skill of pushing mana from your beast heart and forming it into what you want it to be. As you grow stronger, you will combine your powers with your Mana Beast but for now, you must learn to shape them yourself. Watch carefully.”

As Kellen watched, Nokom began another dance and started chanting. Kellen wasn’t sure if it was a language his skill didn’t translate or a series of sounds. Chastising himself for losing focus, he paid close attention to Nokom’s steps. He soon realized she’d repeated the same four steps, a slide, hop, spin combination, three or four times. As she turned with the dance, she held her left hand in close to her chest and pulled the right toward her. Vex hopped on Kellen’s shoulder, mesmerized by the growing power like a cat watching a string swing in front of its nose.

Faint at first, a ball of gray clouds formed in her left hand. Kellen peered closer and realize thin tendrils of what seemed to be a gray breeze drifted from Nokom’s right finger tips, feeding and growing the ball of swirling, twisting wind mana. Once the sphere was about the size of a softball, Nokom ceased her dance while her right hand continued to pour more lines of energy into the ball. In a moment, it grew to the size of a volleyball and Nokom stopped, raising the formed mana so Kellen could get a better look.

“The simplest techniques are as I have shown you,” Nokom said. She raised the ball up and balanced it on one finger as she spoke. “One hand is the foundation, while the other feeds the mana to it. Eventually, you will have enough mana for your hands to each channel. The difference is like tossing a rock compared to juggling a handful of rocks. Understand?”

Kellen nodded. The juggling analogy made sense. He wondered at the amount of concentration and practice it had taken Nokom to channel the mana so effortlessly while she lectured him.

“This ball of energy is one of the basic forms we channel mana into,” Nokom said, now rolling the sphere of condensed wind up and down her arm and across the back of her hand. Different types of mana are easier to shape in different ways. Your sun mana, for example, seems to manifest most easily in shields or straight lines, like spears or arrows. It would take much more effort and mana to shape it into a ball like this. I will teach you how, but for now, it is most important that you can channel at a moment’s notice.”

“What about the others?” Kellen asked.

“You would have to ask a beastcaller who practices them,” Nokom said. “If you ever meet one. I have met a few storm beastcallers in my life, and one old man attuned to fire from the Fire Bison Tribe. We are not common enough to cross paths unless war or a Calling bring us together.”

“What’s a Calling?” Vex asked.

“A gathering of tribes and their beastcallers during times of peace,” Nokom said. “Each tribe’s beastcaller competes against the others in games and fake battles to bring honor and wealth to their people. They are held often within tribes but a true Calling is much rarer. There has not been one in my lifetime. It is a gathering of all beastcallers across the land.”

“Just to play games?” Kellen asked. He had no idea how large Oras was, though it seemed like a huge amount of work to travel across a continent just to play games and win prizes.

Nokom laughed. “Not just games — to determine who the most powerful beastcallers in the land are. To test ourselves against one another without starting a war. You would be surprised at how many battles can be won before a weapon is drawn if one side knows without a doubt the other is more powerful. And you will find most beastcallers are eager to prove themselves to one another.”

Kellen envisioned something like a high noon quick draw in the middle of a dusty street, or maybe a boxing ring with two brawlers trading blows. He knew the notion was ridiculous, but still hoped they didn’t come across other beastcallers looking for a fight. A lone Mana Beast had been enough for them to handle.

“What if they’re stronger than you?” Kellen said. “Say if a Guardian wants to challenge a Ward. What’s the point?”

“We have an unwritten law,” Nokom said. “A beastcaller should never challenge a person without mana to a fight. It is dishonorable to challenge someone you know is weaker than you as well, although I have heard tales of honorless beastcallers who fight any beastcaller or Mana Beast they can find so they may defeat them and easily grow in power. Remember, whenever a Mana Beast fights, it uses mana. When it fights hard enough to reduce to a previous form, some mana is lost to the world and can be taken by the winner. But we have strayed too far down the gopher hole. You need to practice channeling your mana!”

Kellen sighed. He thought Nokom had forgotten about their lesson. For the next hour, she instructed Kellen to form a small spear of light in his hand, siphoning from the mana he’d channeled in his dance. They also practiced the shield. It required a completely different set of hand motions — Kellen was reminded of the timeless wax on, wax off routine — but it came much easier to him than the bar or spear of light did. By the time Nokom called a halt, the sun was high in the sky. They’d only stopped for water breaks and Kellen felt as exhausted as if he’d ran a marathon all morning. Only Ira’s approach was enough cause for Nokom to end the lesson.

“You’ve made progress,” the old coyote said. He still walked with a limp from a shoulder injured by the bird’s talons but seemed as lively as ever. As lively as a creature that looked like a poor taxidermy job or day-old roadkill could, anyway.

“Thanks,” Kellen said between breaths. After a moment, he straightened up and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. His skin felt hot and irritated. He chalked it up to sunburn and wished he could find a hat.

“As long as he doesn’t stab himself in the foot with a spear of light, he should do fine!” Vex said. The little fox actually proved helpful at times during the practice. Vex’s attacks came from forming mana within then blasting it out of his mouth, or from gathering the mana in his beating wings when in his bat form, but he still had a few tips on control and channeling that helped Kellen handle his mana easier.

“You are well enough to travel?” Nokom asked. She glanced back to the camp where the others waited, restless. They’d taken to sparring and scouting their surroundings throughout the morning. Now they were mounted and watching the beastcallers and Mana Beasts. Kellen was surprised Tama or at least Shani hadn’t urged them to hurry.

“I’ll live to fight another battle,” the coyote said in his weary voice. “But I think I’ll stick to the ground for a while. That bird came out of nowhere without a warning.”

Nokom nodded. “That goes for you, too, young one,” she said to Vex. “Either ride with Kellen or fly no higher than the heads of the horses.”

Vex protested, but Nokom cut him off with a raised hand. “That bird could swallow you in one bite,” Ira said. “You’d survive, but Kellen’s beast heart could be permanently damaged.”

“Fine, fine,” Vex muttered. He hopped back on Kellen’s shoulder, who was impressed the little fox could balance so well despite his round shape and short little legs. “Looks like we’re going to be saddle buddies again!”

“If you bug me, I’ll make you bounce behind us in the dust,” Kellen warned. He headed for the rest of the group but Nokom caught his eye, stopping them.

“You were awake when Tama and I spoke last night.”

Kellen’s stomach turned from nerves. He’d assumed since Nokom had said nothing earlier in the day that she hadn’t noticed. And somehow, mention of the conversation in the daylight cemented Kellen’s feelings of being a burden.

“What’s she… oh,” Vex said. Apparently, Kellen replayed the exchange from the night before was enough to share it with Vex. He jumped off Kellen’s shoulder and glared at Nokom and Ira. “Well if you don’t want us, we can go away!”

Kellen didn’t want to go to that extreme. Traveling with Gray Dawn remained his best chance to find Allison. It still didn’t feel good to be discussed like an unwanted sack of baggage.

“I can tell the others don’t want us here,” Kellen said. “Tama just wants to use us and I think Shani hates me.”

“The mantle of chief is not easy, and it is harder on Tama now than ever,” Nokom said. “Her words were only worries shared out loud. She has to think of the band first. We have lost loved ones too, and it has made us all short-tempered and impatient to see them again. As for Shani…”

Nokom trailed off, and a somber expression settled into the creases of her face. “She is on a path of destruction. Anger and rage are all she knows right now. The fact that you are something she cannot be and you saved her life is eating at her. All I can ask is that you do not judge her too harshly, that you judge neither of my family too harshly.”

Kellen stared past her where the haze-shrouded sky blurred into a long, rolling hill in the unbroken sea of dry grass.

“I’m not going to give up, if that’s what they think,” Kellen said. “And I’m willing to pull my weight in the group however I can.”

Nokom stared at him, as if weighing the truth in his words. “There is a question you need to ask yourself,” she said. “You have not complained about the hardships of this journey but I think you came from an easier life in the Great Before. Our world is harsh, unforgiving, and it will kill you, beastcaller or no. You may not give up, but are you willing to fight?”