But I think Papa’s wrong about us being spectators. Most people who live in the village will never see any of those creatures. They might catch a glimpse of a dragon’s wing in the sky or spot the fin of a mighty sea creature in the ocean or hear the song of a phoenix overhead. But they’ll never really get to see them. Only Seekers get that chance.
And Seekers aren’t just spectators. They’re guardians, healers, trackers, magicians. They care for the animals and their habitats. They ride dragons as they soar. They bring back medicine and other supplies for our village, like starflowers. Seeker magic protects both our village and the wildlife of our island. They keep everything in balance.
There’s nothing else I want to do, nothing else I can do. Girls in the village usually don’t have jobs when they grow up. They’re supposed to cook and clean and sew and run their households, but I’m not interested in any of that. How can I be happy watching generations of boys become Seekers while I stay within the confines of the village? I don’t want to live so close to the most incredible creatures in the world without getting to see them. The connection I had with that sea-wolf cub meant something, even if it lasted for only a minute. I want to be a Seeker more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I don’t care what Seeker Agnar says. I don’t care if he refuses to train me. I don’t need him. He can’t stop me from competing. I have a week to prepare for the first trial. I already know more about being a Seeker than almost everyone else, and I already have a strong nature gift. I can beat the others even without official training. I will beat them. Somehow.
I can’t give up.
I wipe my eyes dry, gaze at the spot where the sarvalur disappeared, and wave goodbye to it.
Then I turn and make my way back over the rocks toward the arena, anger and sadness giving way to something stronger: determination.
* * *
I walk through the village with my head held high, not looking at anyone. Luckily the boys are still in the arena, and nobody else knows what happened. I’ll have to deal with the pitying stares of the villagers at some point, but not yet.
I pass the turn toward home but don’t stop. I’m not ready to talk to my parents or Elisa. My feet steer me over the hill, toward Runa’s farm, and I let them. I need my best friend right now.
I find her in her family’s sheep pasture, guiding one of the lambs to join the rest of the flock along with Hundur, the sheepdog. Hundur wags his tail excitedly when he sees me, but he doesn’t abandon his job, following the little lamb as she stumbles forward. I reach out to the lamb with my magic and offer a tiny, encouraging nudge.
“Hey,” Runa says, surprise coloring her voice, “I thought you’d be at…?”
“Seeker training?” I say. “Yeah, well, apparently Seeker Agnar doesn’t let girls train.”
Runa’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding! I thought you said there wasn’t a rule—”
“That’s the thing. There isn’t a rule. But Seeker Agnar is in charge of the training sessions, and I guess he can throw me out if wants.”
Runa frowns. “I’m so sorry, Bryn. I know how important this was to you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I say firmly. “It isn’t over yet. This is just a minor setback.”
Runa’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“They can’t stop me from competing. I’m still going to do it. I have one week to get in shape before the first round of the contest. And if they won’t train me, I’ll just have to train myself.”
“Um,” Runa says. “Bryn, how are you going to…?”
“I haven’t figured it all out yet,” I admit.
“But isn’t the training, like, important? I thought the whole point of the competition was to see who’s trained the best.”
I deflate. “You think I can’t do it? That I won’t win?”
“It’s not that,” Runa says, biting her lip. “I think it’s great, really. I know you’d be the best Seeker. You know more about the Realm than anybody.”
“But?”
She looks at the ground. “But there’s never been one before. A girl Seeker. Do you really think they’ll let you win?”
“Of course. I’ll just have to be the first girl—that’s all.”
Runa doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go. “Do you think it will be hard? The competition?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I mean, having a nature gift is definitely going to help.” I reach toward Hundur with my magic, seeking out the bright, burning spark of life within him. I give it a gentle nudge with my gift. He wags his tail as he continues herding the little lamb, his natural magic brushing up against mine.
“Obviously,” Runa says, grinning. Everyone in the village can feel bits of the magic’s current regardless of which of the five gifts they have. Runa’s gift is healing, not nature, but she can still sense when I’m using my magic.
“But your gift would come in handy for the healing parts,” I add.
“Obviously,” Runa says again. She loves to goad me about her magic being better than mine. We’re a little bit competitive. And by a little, I mean a lot.
“Hey, you should compete too!” I say, brightening at the thought. It might not seem so scary with my best friend by my side. “We could practice together. That could be our training.”
Runa wrinkles her nose. “Wouldn’t we be competing against each other, then?”
“Well, yeah, but it would be fun.”
“In other words, you don’t think I’d be able to beat you, so you wouldn’t care if I tried,” she says wryly.
“I didn’t say that.…”
“But you thought it.” She grins. “It’s fine, Bryn. Believe it or not, I have no interest in being a Seeker.”
“I don’t believe it. Why wouldn’t you want to see the glaciers and volcanoes? And ride dragons? And find starflowers and phoenix ash and gyrpuff eggs and—”
Runa shrugs. “I like animals and all, but I’m not as athletic as you are, remember.”
“But you’re a great healer!”
“That’s not all there is to the job, though.”
“Well, no…”
She smiles. “I’ll leave all the running and fighting and flying and everything to you.”
“Okay, well, your loss.”
She laughs. “But you can totally ask me for help with the healing if you want.”
“What makes you think I need help?”
She gives me a pointed look.
“Okay, maybe I’ll ask you if I have any questions. If.”
“You’ll probably be up against the best young healers in the village,” she reminds me. “Tomas is pretty good.”
“I won’t be up against the best young healer in the village, because you won’t be there.”
“Second best, then.”
I grin. “Teach me your ways, O great healer.”
She laughs. “I don’t know anything about magical creatures, though. You’re on your own there.”
“I’ll figure it out. I don’t think healing will matter that much anyway. Oskar was a naturalist like me. They already have two healers on the council. They’ll want to replace him with another naturalist.”
“Maybe,” she says. “But I bet healing will be an important part of the competition. Seekers have to care for any injured creatures as well as tracking them down. Healing was in the competition a lot last ti—oh, sorry.” She stops abruptly, looking away.
“It’s fine.” It’s not like I don’t know that they replaced my father two years ago. That was the last time there was a Seeker competition, and it’s the only one Runa and I are old enough to remember. I tried to pay attention during the contest because I knew it would be my turn someday, but it was hard. I didn’t want to think about them replacing Papa. I cried through most of the competition and all of the ceremony afterward.
It wasn’t the council’s fault, of course. What happened was nobody’s fault. It was an accident—Papa was trying to help a dragon that had gotten
trapped during a rockslide, but the dragon was so frightened it lashed out at him, and he fell from the cliff. Another dragon caught him, which saved his life, but his leg took most of the impact and fractured when he landed on the dragon’s back. It never healed right afterward, despite the efforts of the village’s best healers, and he couldn’t continue being a Seeker. The council’s decision to replace him was nothing personal—they always need five Seekers.
But it was still hard to watch.
“Do you think you’ll have to ride dragons or something? During the competition?” Runa asks, bringing me back to the present.
“Not right away, no. They’ll want to start with simpler stuff.”
“Makes sense. They wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt on the first—oh, sorry!”
“It’s fine,” I say again. “Really, Runa, it’s okay to talk about.”
“How’s he doing?” she asks quietly.
“Okay. I mean, he still uses his walking stick to get around, but other than that he’s good as new. Really.”
I don’t mention the part about how he can’t do any of the jobs in the village that the other men do. Or that we’re running low on just about everything—food and clothes and firewood and starflowers—because Papa’s barely scraping by, working odd jobs around the village.
Everyone helps out, of course. Our neighbors ask him to fix leaks in their hut or help them with their gardens, whatever needs doing, often in exchange for a more-than-fair trade. And his fellow Seekers have even been bringing us starflowers occasionally, and trading them for less than they were worth. But starflowers can be hard to come by, even for Seekers, and they need them for their own families too. There aren’t always many left over for us.
The problem is that starflowers only grow within the Realm, where the island’s magic is strongest. Collecting starflowers and other treasures and trading them to villagers who need them is how Seekers earn their living. It’s what Papa did, before he got hurt. But now we don’t have much worth trading.
I used to complain about only Seekers being allowed in the Realm all the time, when I begged Papa to take me with him every day. His explanation for our traditions the day we found the sea-wolf cub did nothing to deter me.
“Why do only Seekers get to go?” I grumbled. “I want to see it too!”
Papa always laughed. “Maybe you will someday.”
“Why can’t I go now?”
“The balance of magic on our island is delicate,” Papa explained. “If too many people go into the Realm, they’ll upset that balance.”
As I got older, I began to understand what he meant. Working with magic is tricky. Like the time a few years ago when I tried to help Mama in the garden by making the life forces of the turnips bigger, thinking I could make them grow faster. But I overdid it. The turnips required so much magic to sustain their new giant life force that they started draining magic from the plants around them, and everything else in the garden died.
The Realm is like that, but on a much bigger scale. There are so many intersecting life forces, so much magical energy, that even the tiniest changes can have unintended consequences. If I did the same thing to a plant in the Realm that I did to our turnips, the results could’ve been a whole lot worse than the loss of a few garden vegetables. And the more people go into the Realm, especially without training, the more disastrous it would be.
But part of me still thinks it’s unfair, that only five people on our island will ever get to see its wonders, to care for its creatures, or to collect treasures like starflowers, which many desperately need. It’s even less fair that those Seekers have always been boys.
But once I become a Seeker myself, I can find whatever we need. I can fly into the canyons and onto the mountains of the Wild Realm, where the starflowers grow.
Not to mention the fact that I’ll get to see unicorns and icefoxes and phoenixes and all the other magical creatures that populate the Realm. Including real, actual dragons.
It’s a sacred duty, to be chosen to enter the Realm. Once I become Seeker, I’ll join a short list of people from our village who have been given the honor. And considering how young most of the current Seekers are right now, there might not be another competition for years. By the time another is held, I’ll probably be too old.
This is my one and only chance.
“Do you think…?” I ask Runa, but I can’t finish the sentence.
“What?”
“Do you really think I can do it? Like, seriously?”
“Of course I do.”
“Seriously.”
“Yes. You’re one of the best magicians our age in the village, you fight just as well as the boys, and you know more about magical creatures than anybody else, thanks to your father. There’s no way you won’t make it!”
“But earlier you said—”
“Forget what I said. It doesn’t matter. You’re right. There’s no rule saying you can’t compete. They have to let you. And you and I both know you’re way better than the boys.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
I grin. “Thanks.”
She gives my shoulder a playful nudge. “What are friends for?”
“For helping me figure out how I’m going to train myself for the competition if they won’t let me train with the boys,” I say pointedly. “I have to make sure I’m prepared for whatever the competition is going to throw at me.”
“Like a dragon.”
“Right.”
“Um,” Runa says again. “No offense, but this doesn’t sound like the most well-thought-out plan ever.”
“It isn’t. I’ve had only five minutes to think about it. But I have a week. That’s plenty of time to figure out how I’m going to train by myself. And you’ll help me, right?”
“Of course I will.” Runa bites her lip. “As long as that doesn’t involve, like, getting eaten by a dragon. Or burned to death by a firecat. Or—”
I laugh. “I promise not to let you get eaten, maimed, or burned by any magical creatures.”
“Or gored by a unicorn horn—”
“Runa! Unicorns don’t gore people. They’re gentle animals.”
“But they could. Those horns look awfully sharp.”
She grins, and I giggle. Trust Runa to know how to make me laugh, even when things seem bad.
Hundur, having successfully guided the lamb back to the rest of the flock, bounds over to me, wagging his tail. I grin and rub him behind the ears. “Good dog,” I say. “You’ll help me with training too, won’t you, Hundur?”
“Oh, sure,” Runa says, rolling her eyes. “He’s a regular predatory sea wolf. One who loves having his belly rubbed.”
I laugh. “Maybe we could attach a stick to his head and he could stand in for a unicorn?”
“Right, because grace and majesty are really his strong suits.”
I giggle. “Well, okay, maybe we’ll have to come up with something else for him to do. But I’ll figure it out!”
Runa shakes her head. “What have I gotten myself into?”
I nudge her shoulder. “You know you love me.”
“Some of the time,” she grumbles, nudging me back.
“Just think. Without me, you’d never get into any trouble at all.”
“Very true.” She smiles. “Everything with you is an adventure, that’s for sure.”
“And this is going to be the best one yet! You’ll see.”
Runa grumbles some more, but I can’t stop grinning. With my best friend to help me, I know I can do this. I’m going to be a Seeker, no matter what Seeker Agnar or anybody else says.
I just have to figure out how.
FIVE
I stay with Runa for the rest of the afternoon, helping her do chores. Her mother invites me to join them for dinner, but I reluctantly decline. Mama and Papa will worry if I don’t go back soon. Somehow, I’m going to have to face them.
As the sun makes its way west, the last of its light streaki
ng across the sea, I run over the hill and down the path toward our hut.
The smell of fish fills my nose as I step inside. Cod stew again. Ever since Papa got hurt, we eat lots of simple, inexpensive meals. Before, we’d get chicken or beef sometimes, and even a lamb on special occasions. But now it’s just fish, fish, fish. And usually chopped up in a stew, along with vegetables from our garden, to make the fish last longer. I know I shouldn’t complain. But it’s one more thing that I’m going to change around here as soon as I become Seeker. I’ll be able to sell some gyrpuff eggs or unicorn hair or even extra starflowers, and then we’ll have enough money to eat lamb for days. When I become a Seeker, cod stew will be the first thing to go.
Mama bustles around the kitchen, laying the meal out on the table. Elisa helps, carrying over some spoons. “Where have you been?” Mama says as I walk in. “You’re late.”
“How was Seeker training?” Elisa asks, her eyes wide, but Mama shoos me away before I can answer.
“Fetch your father for dinner,” Mama says. “He’s down the street at Viktor’s.”
I gulp. Viktor is Johann and Aron’s father, and Johann might be back from training. Has he told his family what happened to me? Has Papa heard the news already?
“Hurry now,” Mama says, “but don’t run.” I sigh and head back outside.
It’s a short run from our hut to Viktor’s, and I’m hardly even out of breath when I arrive. Papa is in the front garden, repairing a few loose boards in their chicken coop. There’s no reason Viktor or one of his sons couldn’t do that themselves, but Viktor has been hiring Papa to do lots of little tasks around his hut. Just one of the ways our neighbors have been helping us. Papa says there’s nothing wrong with accepting help, but it still makes my insides prickle. We won’t rely on the pity of our neighbors once I become Seeker. I’ll make sure of it.
There’s no sign of Johann or Aron around, luckily. Maybe Papa hasn’t heard about training yet.
“Papa,” I call. “Dinner’s ready.”
He glances up from his work. “Bryn,” he says, smiling, “how was training?”
Seekers of the Wild Realm Page 4