Kindra Odion stood in the shadow of a tent and wiped her sweaty palms on her wool pants. A cool spring breeze blew through the valley, rustling the edges of the hide tent and throwing her chin-length hair in her face. On the field before her, warriors gathered in groups, talking or practicing, while a group of boys milled about in the center, looking unsure and excited.

“Are you going to stare at them?” Her twin sister, Kaye, asked. “Or are you going to join?”

Kindra rubbed her hands down her pants again and glanced at Kaye. “What if I’m not ready?”

“You’ve been practicing.”

“By myself. Against trees.”

Kaye watched the boys gathered on the field. “Do you think they’re ready?”

Kindra followed her gaze and watched them fidget, bouncing from one foot to the other in anticipation, wiping their palms as she had. Only one stood still and sure, and he was the trainer’s son, practicing with the best warriors since birth. If Kindra was going to prove herself worthy of becoming a warrior, he was the one she’d have to prove it to.

“Calm down,” Kaye squeezed her hand. “You’re making me nauseous.”

“Sorry.” Kindra wiped her other palm again, trying to calm her nerves enough that Kaye wouldn’t feel them through their twin-bond. Whenever one of them experienced a strong emotion or physical sensation, the other felt the echo. As a priestess attuned to energy, Kaye felt Kindra’s emotions much more intensely than Kindra felt her sister’s.

It was another reason Kindra was nervous to go out on that field and declare her intention to become a warrior—if she was injured, her sister would feel it too.

Kaye stepped before her and put her hands on Kindra’s shoulders. “You’ve been training for this since father died. You’re a descendant of the warrior god, Eoin. You bested Gar as children, for Trina’s sake, and everyone says he’ll be as good as father.”

A familiar pang of loss tightened Kindra’s chest at the mention of their father.

“All you have to do is walk out onto that field and stand with those boys and tell everyone who asks that Fennec Odion sent you.”

Promise me, Kindra, her father’s voice rasped in her ear from where he’d laid on his deathbed four summers earlier. Promise me you’ll become a warrior.

“I promise,” she whispered, then and now. Her hands folded into determined fists and Kaye shoved her out from her hiding place between the tents. Kindra took a deep breath and walked out to the field, standing just shy of the group of boys.

They didn’t look intimidating up close—most of them no older than fourteen summers, still growing into their bodies. None of them had the broad shoulders of a warrior yet, nor the stubble of a beard, nor the deep voice of a man. Kindra, on the other hand, had reached her final height. Her breasts had stopped growing—thank Aleda—and her blood came every moon. At sixteen summers she was old enough to join the fertility rights at the end of spring. A woman grown. And yet her hands trembled slightly as she stood on the training field, waiting for her chance to prove herself to these boys.

“Hello, Kindra,” the warrior trainer, Wolf, smiled as he spotted her. “Here to watch the trainees earn their first lumps?”

She’d been watching the warriors train since she was a child, always eager to emulate them later in private. None of them knew her desire to become the first woman warrior of Fie Eoin, and none of them knew the promise she’d made to her dying father.

“No, sir,” she swallowed hard. “I’m here to join them.”

The smile froze on his face and a few of the boys turned to watch.

“Join them?”

“Yes, sir.” She squeezed her hands until her short nails bit into her palms.

“I don’t understand.”

All the boys had turned to stare now, as well as a few warriors. Heat crept up her neck to her ears.

“I’m here to become a warrior,” she spit out so fast her words ran together.

One of the boys—the confident one—snorted. Wolf turned on him with a glare, and his son settled his countenance into a neutral expression. When Wolf turned back to her, the boy smirked.

“Kindra,” Wolf began. “You…this isn’t rough-housing with the boys like you used to do. This is serious. They’re training to become warriors—whipped, marked, and named by Eoin.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.” She stared straight at Wolf, unwilling to look at the incredulous faces around her.

“But…why? You’re a girl.” He looked so truly confused it made her second-guess her promise for a moment. But she had promised.

“Because my father asked me to,” she said, a little more boldly than she felt.

Silence fell over the field at the mention of her father. Fennec Odion had been a hero cut down in his prime. The chief of Fie Eoin for a brief few moons. Everyone had loved him and mourned his passing, especially his fellow warriors.

Wolf stepped forward, voice low. “What do you mean, your father asked you to?”

“The night before he died.” Her heart clenched again at the memory. “He made me promise on his deathbed that I would become a warrior.”

“He wasn’t in his right mind in those days.”

“He made me promise all the same, and I intend to honor that promise. I’ve been practicing,” she added, so he’d at least give her a chance to prove herself.

Wolf rubbed his forehead. “I can’t let you do this.”

Anger flared hot in her chest. “Why not?”

“Because I…” His hand dropped to his side, clenched, and he spoke in a forceful whisper. “Because I promised to see you safe.”

“He asked you—”

“He was one of my best friends, he didn’t have to ask.”

Kindra finally looked around at the staring faces, most of them incredulous, some of them pitying. None of them took her seriously. None of them, until she saw Kaye, still in the shadow of the tent, with a look of absolute faith on her face.

“Fennec asked me to do this,” Kindra said, loud enough for the rest of the warriors to hear, “and I promised him I would. So I’m not leaving until I’m either a warrior, or dragged off this field by someone stronger than me.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then, without turning, Wolf snapped. “Jorsen.”

The confident boy strode forward and Wolf grabbed two training staffs from a pile on the ground. He tossed one to Kindra, and one to his son. “Go easy on her.”

Kindra dropped immediately into a stance her father had taught her. Feet apart, knees bent, staff gripped to take a hit but not knock her on her ass. Jorsen twirled his staff in a circle and laughed before lunging at her. She deflected, arms jarring at the impact, and it seemed to her he wasn’t going easy. Well then, she wouldn’t go easy, either. He had more training, but she had desperation, and all she had to do was outlast him until there was an opening.

It didn’t take long for annoyance to show in his movements. He’d obviously expected it to be a short match, easily won, and the fact that she was able to deflect his blows didn’t sit well.

“Come on, Jor!” One of the other boys said. “Don’t go that easy on her.”

He frowned and lunged, overstepping. A well-placed blow knocked him down, and she jumped on him, pinning his arms with her knees and shoving the staff under his chin so he couldn’t move his head. He yelled, a guttural, hate-filled sound, and tried to buck her, but she kept the pressure on.

Wolf grabbed her up by the elbow as some of the boys, including Jor’s brother, laughed. A frown marred Wolf’s face, and his gaze landed on his other son. “Gar!”

The new warrior snapped his mouth shut, the mirth falling from his countenance in an instant. “Sir.”

Wolf tossed him a staff and released Kindra’s elbow to help Jor stand. “Don’t go easy on her.”

Gar’s gaze snapped to Kindra and she dropped into her defensive stance immediately. In three painful moves he had her on her back, the breath knocked out of her, while he stood at attention.

All the boys and most of the warriors chuckled at her poor showing, but she was too busy gasping for air to blush or cry.

Wolf bent down and plucked the staff from her sore fingers. “You still want to be a warrior after that?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

“Then that was your first lump, trainee.” He hauled her to her feet before she even had a chance to process what he’d said.

Gar clapped her on the back so hard she almost went back down. “Good job, Odion. If you want some extra practice after, I’d be happy to teach you how to stay on your feet.”