I gave Fellen her new sling before the tribe set off the next morning. She covered her surprise at seeing the pine branch carved into the leather by remarking that I should work on my artistic talent, and I controlled myself enough that I didn’t say any of the retorts or insults that came to mind. Instead, I smirked and thanked her for being willing to use and look at the sling I made—bad artwork and all—every day. Rawley and Nole separated us before Fellen did more than try to set me on fire with her furious gaze.

As we left the other pair Rawley asked quietly, “Why do you hate her so much?”

I thought about lying before I realized there wouldn’t be much benefit to it. “She turned her back on me.” Rawley waited for me to elaborate, expectant but not judging. That was enough for me to continue. “It was a deliberate dismissal. She's probably only a couple years older than the twins and she acted as if I was less than sheep dung. That nothing I did could touch her.”

“So you proved her wrong,” Rawley held up a hand as I started to agree with her and continued, “but did you stop to think that doing so would hurt you more than her?”

My mouth tasted like I had chewed boiled asper root. Acidic and bitter. “No one knew the first time! But then she just kept sneaking glares and acting as if she got blessed by the High Priestess herself, and the fact that I had gotten back at her without anyone knowing wasn’t good enough anymore. She at least needed to know.”

Rawley frowned slightly at my admission, but she didn’t get distracted by it. “So you punched her and threw her sling into the river.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I was only going to needle her a bit. But then she called me a mistake and that I was a worthless little girl because not even the healer wanted me. My fist moved on its own and I threw her stupid sling into the river to regain control.”

Rawley placed a solid hand on my shoulder to stop me and turned me towards her before she echoed, “You threw her sling into the river to regain control?”

I didn’t flinch away from her gaze. “If she was going to hate me it was going to be because of something I decided to do.”

“I see.” Rawley’s whole demeanor softened and that’s when I found myself looking at the patch of brown-green grass between my feet. She kept her hand on my shoulder, but this time used it to turn me and propel me forward. “We still have a bit of time before the departure whistle will be given. Let’s talk in the tent.”

I didn’t want to. I didn’t know what to expect. A part of me had feared and hoped Rawley would wash her hands of me as soon as I admitted to losing control of myself. That would be familiar and, besides, lack of control wasn’t a good quality to have in a huntress. But she didn’t even bite into me with her words, just kept me walking. I glanced over at her a few times as we went but what I saw didn’t make sense. Anger would be pinching at her eyes and the corners of her mouth, but then she would catch me looking and everything would soften with…with sadness, concern laced with pity, and a hint of…pride. The silence between us gave my head too much room to spin and speculate on what was happening, why she would act that way, why she was only bringing up what happened with Fellen now. I nearly broke it a few times. But there was nothing that I wanted to say or ask that could be said in the open air.

I entered the tent first and took up the same position I had when she ambushed me with my sister. Rawley came in next, blocking the entrance, and sat leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees. Even with that posture the tent ceiling barely cleared the top of her head. I flicked my gaze back down to my hands and kept it there.

I heard Rawley draw in a long breath and start to speak before immediately cutting herself off. I flinched at the hesitation. I couldn’t remember once, since I became her apprentice, that Rawley had ever acted with less than quiet self-assurance.

I felt, more than saw, when she held out a hand and asked, “May I?”

Memories bubbled up of the first time she had asked me to let her fix my hair. The burning desire for her approval, the fear that she would find me wanting, and comfort as each deft movement of her fingers untangled my hair. The sense of calm and warmth the few other times she had done it during a quiet evening by the lake after a practice session had ran long.

I pulled my gaze up from my hands and gestured to where she was sitting, careful to keep my gaze steady. “If I can sit there.”

She gave me the smallest of smiles. “Of course.”

It was cramped and awkward to switch positions, but we managed it. After Rawley settled in her new position at the back of the tent she considered something before gesturing to her lap. “It’ll make this easier.”

Instead I slipped off my backpack and used it as a pillow. She chuckled as she untied the leather thong keeping my braid together. “That works too.” Rawley ran her fingers through my hair, finding the tangles and a few lose hairs before continuing, “I was going to ask you about this before, but then I wanted to give you some space after what happened with Grandmother and your sister. A fight with another apprentice didn’t rank as high in the list of concerns, though I see now I should have talked with you about a few things I noticed sooner. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have felt the need so strongly to punish the other girl and other events could have been mitigated.”

I kept quiet as Rawley paused to further gather her thoughts. It was clear that she didn’t expect a response yet, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment and lose the chance to learn what she was going to say.

“I’m sure you’ve realized, but I didn’t take you on as my first apprentice as an act of kindness. I owe Grandmother a rather large debt, and this helped repay it. That said, I don’t take my responsibilities lightly, no matter your background. I didn’t have the right or position to say anything before I took you on, but I’ve never approved of her treatment of you. You deserved more as her dependent and as one of the bless marked.” I felt her force her clenched hands back into smooth, even movements. “You’ve been a good apprentice, clever girl. You’re observant, and you learn fast. Sometimes it seems as if you recall every word I’ve ever said. You never complain, though I’ve noticed that you like to test the boundaries of things.” Rawley clicked her tongue. “But too much of a good thing can become a detriment. Your strength of will is incredible, but often you still let it push you to exhaustion when it would have been smarter to pull back or take a break. Your pride often pushes you in the same direction and I can count on zero fingers the number of times you asked for help despite that first lesson with the stick and all the ones following it.”

I made a mental note to ask Rawley for help at some point in the future, despite the idea of needing to rely on someone else wrenching something deep inside my gut. Embarrassment flared on my cheeks as Rawley continued to criticize me.

“It seems…the healer ingrained in you a need for perfection and control in everything you do. Not terrible things to practice within their own right, within reason, but they leave little room for flexibility and I have yet to see you try your hand at anything without single minded focus. Blind to everything else as you focus on perfecting your skill. You don’t relax. You don’t open up, not even behind tent walls. Perhaps it’s because you don’t trust me yet, but do you know that I’ve never seen you smile?”

Her words were like a trap slowly closing around me, and the more she spoke the more the trap’s sharp teeth dug into my flesh. No matter which way I turned more of the trap’s teeth would catch me and I would bleed. I wanted to make her proud, to open up and trust her fully, but if I did it would be giving her the supplies and directions to make many more traps, ones that would hurt a lot more and leave me…vulnerable. But if I didn’t do as she clearly wanted, she would be disappointed—I would be a failure—and I would be proving her point about my weaknesses.

“There’s a difference between repression and control. I think your temper gets out of hand because you haven’t yet learned the difference between the two.” Rawley leaned forward so that I could see her smile down at me. “If you want to learn I’m here.” I felt her smooth out the last hair knot and start to braid a small section of hair. “But if you aren’t ready yet I can wait.”

I didn’t reply until she finished braiding three more braids and pulling them all into one main plait. I needed time to think, not that it did much good with the trap snapped fully closed around me. I needed a way to give her what she wanted without really letting her in. I couldn’t afford to shut her out completely, even if it was only a matter of time before she did that to me, so I had to do something to manage the pain she would inflict.

I wanted what she offered.

I craved a way to control my temper. To stop my fists from acting without my permission.

I needed any edge I could get to make sure I made it through the Seedling Palace.

But relying on someone else again outside of the predefined roles of apprentice and mentor, ward and Grandmother?

Trusting that someone truly wanted to help me without an ulterior motive when my own family couldn’t be bothered?

Everything was so much simpler when all that was expected of me was memorization and practice. What I needed to do was simple and clear then.

I sat up and faced Rawley after she finished tying my hair in place. In that moment only one path promised the least amount of pain. “I need time.”

All I could do was delay.

Rawley nodded, her eyes full of so much understanding that it hurt. “I’ll wait.” She paused, before adding, “Gimlea?”

I waited and she spoke a moment later.

“You’re not worthless. You might have more life in you than is helpful, but you can temper that and it should fade with time now that you aren’t practicing the healing craft.” She picked up my pack and placed it in my numb hands. She chuckled and attempted to lighten the mood while keeping the import of what she was saying, “No one I took on as an apprentice or that Grandmother looks out for could be worthless.”

Not for the first time during the conversation, I didn’t know what to say as once again one part of wanted to believe her while another part could only flashback to each time the words “worthless” and “useless” had been flung at me. She didn’t expect me to reply. Instead, she ushered me out of the tent and I slipped my pack on and helped her dismantle the tent out of habit.

The tribe started the day’s run soon after that and Rawley kept me busy with practicing my sling and thought experiments for the rest of day as we followed the river. The next day was the first we turned away from the river, and everyone walked a bit quicker than normal as we pushed toward Flickermark, still keen to make up lost time. It was late afternoon on the second day of leaving the Crossing River behind when we finally reached the maze’s entrance.