Soon, it seemed, the whole valley was caught up in preparations for the Heartsong festival. Scattered bits of song cut into peaceful silence more frequently while people worked. Others slipped in dance steps or movements as they walked from place to place. The herders were the worst. They all looked like fish flailing on dry land. But no amount of backhanded comments or amused looks could stop them—the sheep and reindeer herders throughout the tribes had a rivalry going back for generations. Why it took the form of rival dance groups was anyone’s guess—and many amused themselves by speculating on it—but the sheep herders were deadly serious about taking the win back from the reindeer herders this year. Last I heard they were training a funny stepping sheep to be part of the dance.

Fellen was also caught up in the fervor. She kept trying to pester me into doing a dancing or singing contest at the festival. Normally, I would have let myself get caught up in a contest easily, but I wasn’t in the mood. Besides the fact that I didn’t have practice in either skill and didn’t want to do a contest I knew I would lose, over the past few days I had been more easily irritated and fatigued than my healing injuries warranted. I was still trying to parse out why though I had my suspicions. Every girl, especially one who had learned the healing craft, had been taught the signs that their blooding might be coming soon.

I couldn’t leave the implications of that alone. Once my blooding came I would be an adult, finally marked with the goddess’s eye and done with wearing a child’s dress. Others would no longer be able to order me about simply because I was a child. But even as gratifying as that would be, if I got my blooding soon, this would be my last time in Grislander’s Maw with the Gabbler Shore Tribe. I would only have little over two months with Fellen and Rawley. Only little over two months to continue training and do what I could to prepare for my first true step to becoming a whisper woman. To finally enter the Seedling Palace.

Two spare months and a handful of days before I was truly on my own again.

I could handle it. It was what I always wanted, after all. I didn’t need others to become a whisper woman; I could set my own path under my own terms. And they would be better without me. Rawley would Crest and the others, and her traps, and her quiet observations to keep her busy. Fellen would have her mother and training and her insane goal to become a Realmwalker.

I stopped sharpening my knife and looked up from where I sat on a tree root that broke free of the snow. Rawley and Nole had decided that training would take place in the forest today to practice hunting and brawling with uneven footing. Crest and the sisters had joined us. Apparently, our embarrassing defeat at the hands of the Picker band had left its impression on everyone.

A little ways away Nole was coaching Fellen through different pinning holds she knew and how to break free of them. Keili and Veris were somewhere chasing each other through the trees. So far Keili had managed to stay on her feet longer and get tagged less often than her older sister. Rawley and Crest were supposedly sparring in front of me, but it had devolved into a reflection dance with a few half hearted punches and kicks added in, so they could pretend they were still practicing. It had been interesting to watch the dance at first—hands rising in unison a bare inch apart, legs snapping out to a new position together without a word of coordination—but the more I saw, the more it felt like I was intruding on something private. Right then it felt like I could slip away into the woods and no one would notice a difference.

Rawley and Crest didn’t want to show off a dance during the large celebration, but had decided that they might share something once people split off into their family and friend groups. It was traditional during the Heartsong for things to get more personal as the night went on. Everyone started together, but then tribes would split off from each other, and later smaller groups of friends and family would split from those, and then lovers and other pairings could chose to split off from there. It was said that whoever you saw the dawn with on the last day of the festival would be bound to you for the next year.

I had spent alternating years sequestered in the healers’ alcoves, helping her while she grumbled about Father and drank sticky sap wine, unable to see the dawn, and out hip deep in the shallow lake, going numb from the freezing water and hoping the night would last forever so I wouldn’t have to go back to her. Every year I wished Father only had her to please, so that I could always have at least one night out from under her gaze.

“Your turn.”

I broke free of my thoughts to find Rawley holding a hand out toward me. Crest stood by, smiling and expectant, as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

Still, the extra buzz of irritation under my skin and the sickly feeling that always came with remembering her, made my reply harsher than I intended. “For dancing or training?”

Rawley drew back, more contemplative than shocked or angry. Then she blinked and seemed to come to a decision as a small smile drew up the corner of her mouth. “Neither. How about we take a walk, you and I?”

I sighed inwardly, knowing that it wouldn’t just a simple walk but also that I wouldn’t be able to get out of it. I tucked my knife and whetstone away before pushing myself to my feet. Then I started walking and my mentor fell easily into step next me after a nod to Crest. I felt her watch us for several long moments before her gaze slid away.

Once we were out of earshot of the others, Rawley said, “I’ll wait.”

However much I wanted to trust her I still couldn’t spill my thoughts to her that easily. We continued forward, stepping around trunks and slipping under low hanging branches, in silence as she exude her air of easy, seemingly infinite patience, and I debated what to say. Some part of me wanted to rant about Grandmother and what she had done and my disappointing trip to the eastern side of the mountains, and another wanted to be petty and needle her for the time she spent with Crest and not me, for the fact that she could look forward to the coming festival, and because sometimes it was annoying that she could always be so collected when I couldn’t. And there was still the excitement mixed with…a small amount of fear at the thought of what would happen if I got my blooding soon. A fourth part of me was panicky at the thought of admitting to any of it and was furiously trying to play out the different scenarios as we walked.

In the end, I shoved down the frustrated anger and pettiness in favor of going with the thing she would find out regardless. “I think I’m going to get my blooding soon.”

“And?”

She wasn’t one to get distracted by the typical tangents of congratulations and excitement such an announcement would normally bring. Somehow she had once again seen some of the inner turmoil roiling under my skin and she wouldn’t be satisfied until I gave her some hint of the reasons behind it.

I skipped over my unnecessary thoughts about her and Fellen. “That means I’ll be leaving in a few months. I don’t know if I’m ready for the Seedling Palace.”

She chuckled and looked at me askance, “You aren’t.”

I stared back wide-eyed; that hadn’t been the response I was expecting. Then the frustration I’d been holding down boiled back up. “But you’re the one always harping on the importance of preparation!”

She nodded. “And it is important, but it’s impossible to be fully prepared when you don’t even know what to prepare for.”

Rawley stopped walking and gripped my shoulder as I followed suited. “But that doesn’t mean you should waste energy on frustration and worry. You’ve done what you can to prepare—oftentimes, that has to be enough.” Then she lifted her hand from my shoulder and took my chin in hand, so that I was forced to meet her gaze. “Nor does repressing your thoughts and feelings help, as I’ve said in the past. That is not control.”

Pressure built behind my eyes, like I was about to cry, but no tears came. I wanted to tell her, to indulge sharing my fears and worries, let her know that I didn’t want to leave her behind. But I knew, I knew, that never ended well. That it was just another trap I fashioned for myself and gifted into her hands.

“I’m fine.”

She sighed and let go of my chin. “I’ll keep waiting then.” Rawley started to walk forward again before she stopped and twisted to take me in again. “Gimley?”

It was my turn to wait.

A gentle smile softened her face when she spoke, “Congratulations.” Then she paused before adding, “You don’t have to dance or sing if you don’t want to, but I was hoping you would join me and the others at the festival.”

Another dangerous opportunity, but one that was difficult to resist when this Heartsong festival might be my last with the tribe, especially in comparison to how pathetic my experience had been in the past.

I nodded, and her smile turned strong and satisfied.

“Good.”

We finished the walk in quiet companionship and, for my part, silent relief.

--

Rawley helped me prepare long strips of wool and made sure I knew how to secure them over the next few days in preparation for my blooding, so I was ready when it came—despite the aching pain in my abdomen and back. What I didn’t expect was the new set of adult clothes she presented to me as soon as I told her. Normally, Grandmother would have been the only one to give me a set as she was still my guardian. The clothes were well made and fit well when I put them on. There was even a flap on my left leg, decorated with small spear heads, so that I could still prick my mark when needed. It felt odd to be wearing pants, but I welcomed the feeling over wearing the mark of a child.

I allowed myself to give her a wide smile. “Thank you.”

She smiled in return. “I’m glad you like them. Fellen and Crest helped me make them.”

After that, we made our way to Grandmother. She raised her eyebrows at my clothes when we entered the tent, but otherwise didn’t comment on them. “I take it your blooding came then?”

I nodded, and Grandmother said, “Congratulations, girl.” She turned to her sister who was already bustling around the back of the tent, gathering things in her arms. “Sister?”

Old Lily picked up one last item and hurried over to us. “Here’s the inking tools and the clothes.”

She congratulated me as she handed me the set of clothes. They were similar to Rawley’s in that there was also a flap on the leg, but the tunic was dyed a deep gray rather than the mixture of green and brown Rawley’s had been.

Grandmother gestured to the ground in front of her. “Lay down.”

I did, pulling my new tunic up so that my stomach was exposed, and Old Lily and Rawley left to keep busy elsewhere. Grandmother got her inking tools ready, and I watched, wide eyed, as she pricked her wrist to mix the blood in with the ink and held the bowl over me.

Then she spoke and tilted her face upward. “Heliquat!” I couldn’t help but flinch as she dared to speak the goddess’s name. “Know this girl, Gimley of the Gabbler Shore, as for the first time, she sheds some of the life in her blood and begins her journey as truly one of your daughters. With the marking of your eye on her body she vows that it is yours, to do with as you will. With this marking she vows to uphold your glory and act as an example to others.” Grandmother’s gaze pinned me to the floor. “Do you so vow?”

I swallowed to clear a dry throat. “I vow.”

“May you never need to turn your gaze fully on this one, goddess, as she will carry your eye with her.”

Grandmother set the bowl down then, and began the process of marking me with the goddess’s eye. I clenched my jaws against the pain as she pressed the bone shard into my stomach over and over and over again before wiping and pressing the ink into the tiny wounds. It hurt more than when Rawley had made my apprentice mark. But I refused to embarrass myself after Grandmother had called to the goddess and when I was finally, finally becoming an adult.

I don’t know how long it was before she added the last bit of ink to the mark and pronounced, “It is done.”

I held back the sigh of relief, but that still broke the barrier I erected against the pain and I grunted in pain as she helped me sit up. Grandmother bandaged the mark.

She stopped me before I could stand up and leave. “Never forget where you came from—lose that and betrayal becomes a second, easy step. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now go. I have other things to tend to.”

I left, but her words haunted me for a long time after.