“Bryn.” Papa stands in the doorway, his shadow looming over the threshold. “Come help me in the garden for a minute, please.”
I leave Elisa and her doll and step warily outside. Papa limps over to the stone bench propped at the side of the low fence. “Yes, Papa?” I say quietly, taking a slow step forward.
He lowers himself wearily onto the bench. “So I hear your Seeker training begins today.”
“You already told me I could do it,” I say, fear twisting knots inside my stomach.
“I did.” Papa smiles. “And I believe that you will win that competition easily, if that’s what you want.”
“Of course it’s what I want.”
“Are you sure?” When I don’t answer—because the answer is obvious—he sighs. “Your mother has some… concerns. And she’s not wrong, Bryn.”
I swallow hard. “What kinds of concerns?”
“You know your mother. She worries about your safety.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s perfectly safe.”
“Bryn…”
“Your injury was an accident. You said yourself it hardly ever happens. ‘A well-trained Seeker is in no danger from the creatures of the Realm.’ That’s what you told me once.”
“I did say that,” Papa says slowly, “but…”
“And I’ll be really, really careful. I promise.”
“I know you will.”
“And I’ll work really hard at training, and—”
“I know.” Papa sighs again, like he’s steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say. “Not everyone in the village will be happy about you competing.”
I look down at the dirt, thinking about what Johann said earlier. “I know not everyone thinks girls are good at magic. But they’ll change their minds. Once they see…”
“People can be set in their ways.”
I’m not totally sure what he means, but it doesn’t matter. “I’ll just have to prove them wrong, then.”
Papa studies me silently.
“I don’t care what people say about it,” I continue, my voice firm. “They’ll change their minds. There’s no rule that says girls can’t be Seekers. They have to let me try.”
“That they do,” Papa says, smiling. “Your mother and I just worry that it will be… more challenging than you expect. And we don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I know.”
“Just… be prepared for what may come.”
“All right,” I say, rocking back impatiently on my heels. “Is that all?”
Papa smiles. “That’s all.”
“I have to leave now, then.” I pause. “Have any advice for my first day?”
He laughs. “You know Seekers aren’t supposed to provide an unfair advantage to anyone.”
I bite my lip. Papa technically isn’t a Seeker anymore, so that rule doesn’t really apply. He won’t get a say in any of the judging. But I can’t say that out loud—it might hurt his feelings.
Papa reaches into his pocket and withdraws a small, square object wrapped carefully in linen. His most prized possession: a sketchbook. He says that paper is more common on the mainland, but here on the island it’s rare, since we have no way to manufacture it. Papa managed to barter for a few pieces from a trading ship years ago. He then bound the precious pages into a sketchbook with a thin strip of leather.
He gingerly unwraps the covering, as he’s done so many times before, and gestures for me to sit beside him. As I settle onto the bench, he carefully flips through the sketchbook.
I’ve seen his drawings hundreds of times, but they never fail to amaze me. In bold strokes of ash and charcoal, Papa has brought each of the Realm’s creatures to life upon the page. On one, a phoenix rises from a sea of fire, its wings tipped in flame; on another, a majestic unicorn rears up, tossing her mane.
“Let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention,” Papa teases, flipping to another page. “Do you remember what I told you about firecats?”
I gaze at the familiar sketch. A massive cat prowls across the page, fire dancing along its paws and lighting the tip of its tail, a crest of flames running along its head and back.
“One of the Realm’s largest creatures, aside from dragons,” I say promptly. “All firecats produce magical flames from their paws and tails, and males also have fiery crests, which can be used to fight off predators.”
“Very good,” Papa says. “But what else should a Seeker know about approaching them?”
“They must be approached slowly,” I recite. “Firecats can run faster than the human eye can see, and will often flee if startled or spooked. Seekers must never enter their dens, which they guard against intruders with their magical fire. They don’t kill unless provoked but can be deadly if mishandled. They’ve even been known to cast balls of fire toward enemies.”
“And if you find a firecat, what else might you find?”
I have to think about this one for a second, but then I remember. “Firecats often make their dens near volcanic hot springs—that’s their water source. And hot springs are also home to gulurberries and other magical plants.”
Papa nods and flips to the next sketch. A creature with a long, coiled body like a serpent stretches across the page, webbed crests dotting its length. A pair of horns springs from its forehead. Its two sets of short legs end in webbed feet, and its jaw stretches wide, revealing a forked tongue and pointy teeth.
“A vatnavera,” I say immediately. “Dwells only in freshwater glacial lakes. A shape-shifter that can change elements of its appearance including size and shape, but usually resembles a horned serpent. Eats mostly fish and has never been known to harm a human, though it may grow to massive size and sharpen its teeth to scare them away.”
“What else might they do if frightened?” Papa prompts.
“Shrink really small so they can hide.”
“And what’s one thing Seekers must watch for in order to care for them?”
“Make sure that their lakes don’t grow too warm,” I say. “They’re unaffected by cold but don’t like heat and avoid sunlight. Lakes that are too close to the volcanic region may overheat and need to be cooled.”
“And what magical items can be gathered from them?”
This one’s easy. “They sometimes shed their scales when they shape-shift, depending on what form they take. Vatnavera scales are softer than dragon scales, so they don’t make for good weapons or shields like dragon scales do, but they still have magical properties in potions when combined with certain herbs and plants.”
Papa smiles. “You don’t need any advice,” he says. “You’re ready.”
“Thank you.” With one last, longing glance at the sketchbook, I stand. “I’d better get going. I’ll see you at dinner!”
“Don’t be late,” he calls. As I run through the gate and onto the path, his laughter fills the air behind me.
* * *
The arena lies a few miles outside the edge of the village, in a low clearing near the shoreline. Mountains border it to the north, their peaks rising so high that from this distance I can’t even see the tops.
The arena itself is built from massive chunks of stone that fell from the mountains during a rockslide caused by a volcanic eruption many years ago—or so the stories say. The villagers of old constructed tiered benches to encircle the arena’s edges, allowing spectators to observe the competitions. But for now the benches remain empty.
I enter the arena under the curved stone archway. A small crowd of boys stands around in the center of the massive open space. There’s no sign of any of the Seekers. But then, I’m still very early. The sun isn’t directly overhead yet, so it’s not quite noon.
I keep to the edge of the arena, taking a minute to size up my competition.
Most of the boys are showing off, using their magic to do flashy tricks. Johann is utilizing the strength of his warrior gift to levitate heavy rocks and send them spinning through the air. The other boys shout and applaud like it�
�s a big deal, but I’m not worried. While warrior gifts look impressive on the surface, they don’t give you much of an advantage when it comes to tracking, healing, or caring for animals. Besides, Seeker Agnar has the warrior gift too, so I doubt they’ll want another. They need a naturalist more. Which means they’ll probably focus on naturalist skills over warrior skills during the competition, and it will probably influence the Seekers as they judge the results.
One of the older village boys, fourteen-year-old Emil, raises his hands and forms a shimmery shield of purple magic in the air, letting Johann’s rocks bounce off it. A defender gift. They are important for Seekers, since they have to preserve the shields that encircle the boundaries of the Realm, so he might be decent competition. But Seeker Ludvik is a defender, so they don’t really need a second. Besides, I have a feeling Emil is too energetic to stay focused on any one task for long. He’ll probably get bored and wander off before training even finishes.
Tomas is here, of course. He lounges casually beside the nearest bench, as if he couldn’t care less about this whole thing, but I know better. I saw how eager he was when the announcement was made. He’s a healer, and unlike the other boys, he might actually know a thing or two about magical creatures. Plus his father, Seeker Freyr, has probably taught him as much as my father has taught me. The Seekers are supposed to remain impartial while judging the competition, but having a father on the council will likely help him.
There are a few other boys as well, but none that I’d consider major competition. I’m the only naturalist in sight—the nature gift is rare enough that I’m the only one of the right age. That will work in my favor, for sure.
“Hey, it’s Bryn,” Johann shouts, pointing at me. He and Emil laugh, and heads turn in my direction.
“What’s she doing here?” someone asks loudly.
Several of the boys whisper to each other, and someone laughs.
Heat floods my face. I was hoping they wouldn’t act weird about this and would just accept that I’m here. Maybe I can convince them if I just act like I belong. I tilt my chin, holding my head up, and stride forward, joining the boys in the center of the space.
“What are you doing here, Bryn?” one of the boys asks. “Don’t you know this is the Seeker training?”
I ignore him, crossing my arms firmly over my chest.
He shouts something else, but I turn away, forcing myself not to pay attention.
Across the arena, a short figure approaches from under the archway. Another competitor, most likely, but probably not anyone I need to worry about—
Or not.
It’s Ari.
Unlike the rest of us, Ari isn’t a naturalist, a defender, a healer, or a warrior. His magical specialty is called empathy, and it’s the rarest of the five gifts. There’s never been an empath Seeker during my lifetime. But it’s a talent that could certainly serve him well.
Empaths can sense the energy of other living beings even better than naturalists can. They can feel the emotions of others, meaning they can tell when someone is sad or hungry or in pain. While naturalists can detect the life sparks of plants and creatures and help nurture them with their magic, empaths are more closely attuned to what people and animals are feeling. And that could be an incredibly useful gift when working with the beings of the Realm. Ari will be able to detect and communicate with magical creatures more directly than any of the rest of us. He’ll be able to sense their needs. Some people say that empaths can influence the emotions of others, too.
A tiny knot of fear lodges in my stomach. If there’s anyone other than a naturalist who the Seekers might want to consider, it’s Ari.
He’s my biggest threat.
He makes his way slowly across the arena, joining the rest of us in the center. A few of the boys greet him, but mostly they look away. Ari isn’t particularly popular among the village kids—he keeps to himself.
He glances in my direction, but if he’s startled to see a girl here, he doesn’t let on. He tucks his hands casually in the pockets of his jacket and scuffs a pattern in the dirt beneath his feet.
“This is our competition?” Emil sneers. “A girl and an empath? This is going to be so easy!”
Johann laughs, and so do a couple of others. My heart races, but Ari doesn’t look up. I try to channel some of his calm. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.…
Emil shouts something else, but he’s cut off by Tomas, who is gazing toward the entrance of the arena. “Shut up,” he says. “Seeker Agnar’s here.”
Sure enough, Seeker Agnar is striding briskly toward us, his long green cloak flapping. Agnar is the youngest of the current Seekers, only eighteen, with a short-cropped beard and trim dark hair.
He’s the man who replaced my father.
Ari looks up from the dirt, glances at Seeker Agnar, and frowns, his mouth twisting into a strange line.
“Welcome,” Seeker Agnar says, drawing to a slow halt in front of us. “I’m pleased to see so many fresh faces here today.” He scans the group, his eyes lingering on each of us—
His eyes lock with mine, and he freezes. “Jakob’s daughter,” he says quietly. “What are you doing here?”
My mouth goes dry. Everyone swivels to stare at me.
I will myself to speak clearly and firmly. Once I explain, he’ll understand. “I’m here to train,” I say. “I’m going to compete to be a Seeker.”
For a long moment, only silence meets my words.
“But you’re a girl,” one of the boys says. I don’t see which one—I keep my gaze fixed on Seeker Agnar, waiting to see what he’ll say.
When he doesn’t speak, I raise my voice. “There’s no rule that says girls can’t be Seekers.”
“There’s never been one before,” Emil scoffs.
“There’s no rule that says I can’t compete,” I say louder, hoping my voice will stay steady.
Silence.
A shiver of fear races up my spine. I thought for sure the Seekers wouldn’t care about letting me compete… but what if they do? Was this what Papa was trying to warn me about?
“That may be true,” Seeker Agnar says at last. “But I cannot in good conscience encourage you to do so.”
It feels like all the air has been forced from my lungs. Before I can respond, he continues.
“This work is not for the faint of heart. The magical creatures of our island can be dangerous. I would expect you of all people to know that, Jakob’s daughter.”
Tears well up behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “I can do it just as well as the boys,” I say, but this time my voice does waver. “I’m a naturalist—”
“Your father would never forgive me if I let any harm come to you,” Seeker Agnar continues. “It’s too dangerous. I’m sorry.”
“But I—”
“That’s my final word on the matter,” Seeker Agnar says firmly, turning away from me. “I suggest you go home.”
Everyone stares at me, and I blink rapidly, trying to hold the tears back. I didn’t expect this, and I don’t know what to do now. I can’t move. I can’t speak.
“Now, boys, let’s begin.…” Seeker Agnar leads the way across the arena to begin training. One by one, the boys follow him, leaving me behind in the dust.
Choking on the lump in my throat, I finally find the strength to move.
I turn on my heel and run from the arena.
FOUR
I’m not sure where I’m running, but I bypass the path to the village, not wanting anyone to see me. I head for the shoreline instead, picking my way over the rocks until I reach the beach.
The sea is quiet today, and for once I wish it wasn’t. I want the waves to slam against the shore, to reflect the turmoil happening inside me. I taste salt water, and it takes a second to realize it isn’t from the sea. It’s from the tears streaming down my cheeks.
Papa tried to warn me it would be hard, but I never expected this. I never expected them not to even let me try. Papa always tol
d me I’d be a Seeker one day if I wanted to be. And while Mama worries about my safety, she never said I couldn’t do it just because I’m a girl. She and Papa always told me—
Oh no. Papa. What am I going to say to him? He was so proud that I wanted to follow in his footsteps, even if it worried him too. What will I say now? How can I tell him I failed before I even started?
And Elisa. She always believed I could do it. What will I tell her? Next time she has a coughing fit, how can I explain that we don’t have enough starflowers because I couldn’t get any? Because I wasn’t good enough?
No, that isn’t right. I am good enough. Seeker Agnar just wouldn’t give me a chance to prove it.
I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand, looking out over the water. It stretches on for miles in every direction, large enough to swallow our little island whole. I wanted to see the end of it someday. But there are only two ways to cross the sea—on boats or on dragons.
I know which one I prefer. But it will never happen now.
Somewhere out to sea, a funnel of water shoots into the air. The spray is followed by a low, rumbling bellow. Whales, probably.
No, not whales. The water is churning in a strange, unnatural pattern. Sarvalurs.
I rush forward, stepping into the surf, squinting against the sunlight. There. A single dorsal fin, rising above the waves for a split second before diving back under, the water swirling in its wake. Sarvalurs are large sea creatures, much like ordinary whales, but once infused with our island’s magic, they seem to have the ability to control the ocean’s water, creating currents and waves and even floods. Legend says that if fishermen offer them food, they will help guide the ships with their currents and even lead them safely through storms.
It’s not unusual to see sarvalurs in our ocean, but it still feels special every time. A reminder that our island is home to dozens of creatures, in land and sky and sea, magical and not. Papa always says we humans are really just spectators, given a front-row seat to view the most beautiful, incredible animals in the world. It’s our island’s magic that gives birth to dragons, unicorns, phoenixes, icefoxes, gyrpuffs, sea wolves, vatnaveras, firecats, and more.
Seekers of the Wild Realm Page 3