Over the next week or so, many different people found excuses to enter the meeting hall and wander close enough to the lone huntress’s area to get a good look at me. I didn’t let them get away with their pretense. Every time I felt a gaze focus on me I would snap my own gaze up from whatever project Rawley had given me and stare down the source as soon as I found it. Some got flustered, some simply acknowledged me before going on their way, and some kept looking which inevitably turned into a battle of wills. I only averted my eyes for the Grandmothers—everyone else I was determined to beat. They might view me as young and immeasurably lucky, but I was determined to show them at least a sliver of the will that helped me get through Flickermark. Nor did they have the right to ogle me like I was a reindeer who had suddenly grown a third antler. I wasn’t about to hide. I had no reason to be ashamed of my trial mark; even if there had been some luck involved, Fellen and I hadn’t shied away from the challenges presented to us.

Fellen’s mom was doing her best to keep Fellen out of sight and out of mind, however. From what I gathered, she didn’t want her daughter reminded of her traumatic experience. I knew that Fellen had nightmares of some of our experiences in Flickermark, like the walk through the shamble men, but I also knew Fellen was more than capable of reflecting on and talking about them if she was inclined to. Her mother was overcome by her own insecurities. And that was having an irritating, averse relationship on Fellen’s reputation and her standing as a trial mark holder. I heard whispers that I had carried her through the trial and that she didn’t deserve her mark. Others scoffed at the idea that she would become a Realmwalker. I felt irritation bubbling under my skin every time I heard it. I might not want her to take on the foolhardy risk of doing one more trial—let alone three—but it was also grating to have people superficially judge her abilities because of her mother. There was never anything pleasant about the experience.

Not to mention that a sizable portion of the people her mother turned away came to me instead. The first person to approach me had been one of those—just to add insult to injury. She was another weaver and felter of the Gabbler Shore Tribe. I assumed she was one of Lendra’s friends who got snubbed when they tried to covertly pry about her daughter. I had watched as the short woman made her way to me only to ask if I knew where Rawley had gone. We both knew that she had waited until my mentor stepped away to approach, so I didn’t honor that question with a response.

Instead I leveled my best glare at her and said, “You heard all you need to know in Grandmother’s story. If you have time to waste go bother someone else.”

At that she looked more miffed than embarrassed, but I didn’t feel like wasting patience and manners on someone who thought they could pry into my background. If she wanted to know what happened and what it was like, she could go do the trial herself.

“You should watch your tone with your elders, child.”

I tapped my chin to draw her attention to the trial mark. “Being favored by the goddess trumps age. Besides, you’re the one who decided to cast aside all dignity and beg for answers.”

“I’m not—”

“I won’t tell you the path we took through Flickermark. Spread that around if you’re so interested in having a unique bit of gossip.”

Her face had gone red and blotchy. “Watch your tongue. You were naught but a wretched slip of a healer’s daughter a handful of months ago and we both know you weren’t good enough to be that.”

Old fury boiled in my gut as I entertained a brief daydream of the weaver running from a bane pack. I knew this woman, for all that I couldn’t be bothered to give her the courtesy of using her name. She had no right to cast doubt on my abilities. “I helped save both you and your son when the birth was difficult. I stitched up your husband after he sliced his leg open on that rock. Last I heard there’s barely a scar.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Perhaps you should reflect on your own skills before casting doubt on someone else’s. Do you know more than the common plants in Flickermark and what parts are edible? Could you find you’re way through that maze without a huntress guiding you?” I smirked and brushed a hand on my dress. “I thought most people went to Lendra for her work before they even consider turning to you.”

I deliberately ignored her mortified outrage and refocused on the cord I was twining together. As I started to dampen the strands again I heard her leave—nearly stomping. I allowed myself a small private smile at the victory.

Others weren’t so antagonistic, but instead redoubled their efforts to hear the story of how we completed the trial when I tried to shut them down. The most annoying were the ones who would keep asking questions even when I ignored them. Their curiosity was too strong for them to care about following basic social cues, much less manners. They would only leave when Rawley leveled her status as a skilled huntress against them, though sometimes even she had to also remind them how close they were treading to questioning Grandmother’s authority.

The worst two encounters by far, however, were when the twins came to make sure I still knew what they thought my place should be and when Father finally worked up enough courage to check on my wellbeing. Even if I had to be bothered by idiots for the rest of eternity as a consequence of my new fame, I would have preferred that over the slow agony of those two short conversations.

The twins came first, with Adley marching in the lead. It was a peculiar, bitter sweet feeling to hear and watch their beads clink together while feeling the lack of my own. I had little doubt they viewed the healing craft as the lifeline that I had. Instead, for them, it was a burden that they were required to suffer.

I set down the basket of stones I was sorting through for good throwing stones. Rawley sat near with Crest as they worked on preparing a large reindeer skin. She glanced at me before giving me the smallest nod—agreeing to let me handle the encounter. Crest stiffened and glanced at the approaching twins and then me after Rawley murmured in her ear before smoothly returning to her work with Rawley. I could tell they both had an ear on the situation, however.

I didn’t need to peer past them to see if a particular gaze cut across the meeting hall to watch us from the healer’s area. If she had been anywhere in the building, the twins wouldn’t have risked her ire by approaching me. Still, Kem kept glancing at the doors leading outside as if she might reappear any moment which greatly reduced the air of superiority and confidence Adley was vainly striving for.

Adley planted her fists on her hips a few steps in front of me and glowered. “Don’t think receiving a trial mark will get Mother to take you back in. She’s more than satisfied with us.”

Kem peeked out from over her shoulder. “Yeah.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Are you trying to say you don’t cause a fuss every time you need to learn something new? Because I highly doubt that.”

Adley smirked down at me. “Mother says I’m a better apprentice than you ever were.”

“That just means you’re easy to manipulate.” I rolled my eyes. “Why are you bothering me? You made what you thought of me last time quite clear.”

Surprisingly, it was Kem who answered. “Earning something from luck doesn’t mean anything. Everyone’s making fun of you behind your back!”

Ah. Her thirst for recognition had wormed its way into them too. Loss of social standing was one of the worst things that could befall a person—especially when one had precious little to lose.

I forced an easy smile on my face and shrugged. “I don’t care what they think.” It was partially true—once I became a whisper woman my social standing in the tribe shouldn’t matter anymore. I pointed at the twins. “You’re opinion also doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change the truth: Fellen and I earned our marks. Or if you want to prove that one of the goddess’s trials can be completed purely on luck, I welcome you to try your own hand at it.”

Adley’s jaw worked before she burst out, “You’re still useless! Kem and I could do it if we wanted!”

I burst out laughing.

The absurdity of the twins—who relied on others more than most—lasting more than night in Flickermark on their own was too much. They would be at a loss if she ever stopped praising them, much less cut them loose from her support. They had never had to fully face the rough truth of what it meant to be a healer’s child.

I gained enough control of myself to cut through the last shreds of their confidence with a malicious smile. “I know where I stand with those around me. You’re the ones people are making fun of behind your back. Or did you think the reason why your so called friends suddenly have less time for you is because of something I did?” I let sink in for a moment. “I could care less. But congratulations—the more you learn, the more you’ll end up like me.”

Adley stared at me, frozen. Kem shuddered and couldn’t keep his eyes still.

I was their worst nightmare. They had their whole lifetime to learn that lesson, just as they had all that time to take for granted the small privileges they were afforded.

Kem reached down and tugged on Adley’s hand. She couldn’t help but get in the last word.

“We’ll never be like you!”

Then they all but ran away.

Rawley smoothly rose and walked over to me before kneeling back down. Her soft, inquiring gaze settled over me like a light blanket, smothering most of the embers of anger in my chest. “You know where you stand with me, Gimley?”

I nodded, grateful she didn’t push further. “Yes.”

“Good. I know this isn’t the time, but my offer still stands.”

She returned to Crest and I returned to my sorting.

The encounter with Father was less public. He waited until I was on one of my short walks that I had started to do to build up my strength. I used the wall for support so that I wouldn’t need the constant embarrassment of leaning on someone else. It was bad enough that more people than I would like watched my progress with an avid eye.

I had just reached the alcove that I used as the marker to turn around when I heard my old name whisper out of its depths.

“Gimlea.”

I froze. Sour recognition of the deep voice and the probing pain of that old name locking my limbs.

“Gimlea, I need to talk to you. Come here.”

And that was all the spark I needed to set my temper burning. I welcomed the anger as it warmed my belly and loosened my limbs. How dare he think he had the right to talk to me now after everything? After having years of opportunities to do more than offer brief words of comfort when it was convenient or apologies for her behavior, he thought he had the right to command me? He was better absent.

I glared at the dark, covered alcove picturing his premature graying hair knotted back and prominent cheekbones under submissive eyes. “I don’t know anyone named Gimlea. Perhaps if you didn’t hide out of sight and only spoke to people when it was convenient for you, you would know that.”

I turned to leave but a hand snaked out of the alcove and grabbed my wrist. “Gimlea!” I could easily picture the panic covering his features as he realized he was losing his easy solution to his troubles. “How are you?”

I snorted. That was the best he could do? I wrenched my wrist from him.

“Doing just fine pretending you don’t exist.”

I left then and felt vindicated when he didn’t try to stop me again. After all, pretending someone didn’t exist was a talent I learned from him.

- -

As time wore on the rumors grew. Soon after my confrontation with the weaver, my past as a healer’s daughter started circulating and wearing holes in people’s belief that I had earned my trial mark, that the goddess would really favor me. But even that got more convoluted as, at some point, my name got switched out with Fellen’s and people started wild rumors to bridge the idea she used to be a healer’s daughter with the fact that she was Lendra’s daughter. Murmurs that Lendra had done a rare thing and adopted her or that Fellen had been interested in the craft circulated. People used them to justify how they viewed her: a weak child without resolve who got by on luck.

I was affronted on her behalf and my own. In a few sentences they wiped away the years of effort I had put in and gifted them to another, besides the fact that I knew just how much effort and resolve Fellen had exhibited during the trial. But people were having reconciling their lofty idea of the type of person capable of completing a trial and the type of person who hides away in a tent while her mother protects her—not that Fellen had much choice. She did escape to see me when she could and do what training she could with Nole, but Lendra had no desire to stop doing what she could to “protect” her daughter.

Others simply couldn’t get over the fact that we were both girls and thus not even to our blooding years. They spread rumors that questioned whether we were really up to the goddess’s standards and focused more on the lucky moments in Grandmother’s story than when we had shown our skills. Some even speculated that we had lied about marks or cheated somehow, but given that everyone knew how quickly double crossers of the goddess were dealt with few entertained those notions for long. As the rumors and speculation continued they all circled around a single question: how much of our progress during the trial boiled down to skill and our resolve, and how much was attributed to luck?