She gave the brave werebit a gentle stroke between its long ears and felt surprised at how soft its fur was. The odd clicking noise grew louder and it suddenly dawned on her that it was making the noise by chattering its teeth.
Another werebit approached within arm’s length, and as soon as she began to stroke its fur, the unusual sound from the creature began to remind her of a cat’s purr.
“I’d not have believed it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own two eyes.” Tristan breathed with awe as the werebits surrounded them. However, when Tristan tried reaching toward the nearest one, all of the werebits within arm’s length scattered. “I don’t think they’re all too fond of me, but they certainly like you.”
Willow climbed to her feet and waved at the congregation of furry companions. “My friends, we have to get going.” Her gaze shifted to Tristan, who’d sheathed his knife somewhere under his gray tunic and he, like her, stood with a look of mild amusement on his face.
Tristan squinted as he looked at the horizon. “I need to get back to the stables, Charger needs a workout too.”
Waving again at the werebits she turned as Tristan led the way back toward the outskirts of New Memphis, this time at a less-frantic pace.
Nearly half an hour later, Willow paused as they approached the first signs of the town. She didn’t have to turn back to know that the werebits were still shadowing them. Somehow, she sensed them hidden in the grass.
Willow cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled across the seemingly empty fields. “Friends, please don’t follow any closer. There are people who would hurt you if they saw you.”
The grass in the distance shifted as Willow caught flashes of white scattering in different directions. Either her yelling had scared them or they somehow understood her message. Regardless, within seconds her sense of their presence faded, leaving Tristan and Willow alone on the grassland.
She shrugged, realizing that it was ridiculous for her to think they could understand her.
Tristan was jogging in place as he waited, and as Willow tore her mind away from the creatures, she worried silently if her body was ready to handle getting on Tristan’s horse again.
Tristan stood next to his horse and patted Charger’s head as Willow sat gingerly on the saddle. “Let me guess, your private parts are hurting something fierce and your inner thighs are sore?”
“How’d you know that?” Willow’s cheeks reddened as she realized she’d just admitted something that she’d rather not have.
Tristan pouted slightly and patted at Willow’s knee. “Trust me. I remember my first time on a horse. My balls were sore and—” His eyes widened and he suddenly looked a bit aghast at what he’d said. “I’m sorry–a bit too much detail, eh?”
Willow smiled at Tristan’s discomfort, which matched her own.
“Sometimes my mouth runs ahead of my brain.” He gave Willow an embarrassed smile. “Anyway, like all bruises–they’ll go away soon enough, but if you sit back on your butt more and lean forward less, you’ll be much more comfortable.”
Willow leaned further back in her saddle and let out a rare embarrassed giggle. “I can only imagine how much more uncomfortable it might be for boys. So, now that you have me on here, what now?”
Tristan steered Charger out of the stables and led her to the nearby field. “Simple, let’s get you acquainted with how to tell Charger what you want.”
Willow’s stomach gurgled with anxiety as Tristan led Charger toward the field. She’d spent a good portion of the day with him and it felt just like any other day spent with one of her brothers. Willow knew that she needed to be careful. For the briefest moment she’d almost forgotten he was a Vanden-Plas.
Blocking Tristan’s punch, Willow danced backward as she kept her eyes on his feet. Tristan loved to try and fool her by shifting his body one way or another, but she knew that any movement he made needed the cooperation of the lower part of his body. He lunged forward, snapping a front kick at her.
Seeing the attack a split-second before it came at her, Willow dodged and grabbed Tristan’s wrist, pushing aside the subsequent punch aimed at her head.
With his arm extended, Willow pressed on the pressure point between Tristan’s thumb and forefinger, causing him to gasp.
“Enough ... enough!”
Willow released his arm and saw pain on his face.
Drenched in sweat, Tristan stepped away, trying to shake the ache from his hand. Wiping his arm across his brow, Tristan gave Willow a wistful smile. “You’re just amazing. Whenever I think I’m fast enough to land something on you, you pull out a new trick, and suddenly I have to wonder why I keep torturing myself like this.”
Willow swung her arms back and forth, enjoying the delicious warmth of her muscles as the cool breeze blew on her face. They’d spent the last two weeks together and the time seemed to have flown by. Touring the frontier, exercising and sparring–Willow was sad to have it end. Tristan had really become a friend. But she also knew that back in the Academy, people wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t be able to just sit and talk without people starting rumors and talking behind their backs.
I really hate that place.
Willow smiled as Tristan rubbed at one of the bruises on his arm that he’d picked up during one of their sparring sessions. “I know Mister K. and the rest aren’t willing to risk having you get hurt in class, so I’m showing you some things they wouldn’t. You’re probably better than at least half of Mister K’s class.”
Jets of steam blew from Tristan’s nose as he breathed deeply in the cold winter air. He cocked an eyebrow and shot her a mischievous look. “So you like hurting me?”
Willow playfully punched him on the arm and shook her head. “You know what I mean. It’s not like I try to hurt you, but if you want to learn how to defend against an attack, you need to actually feel what an attack is like. I’m really trying to help—”
“Willow, I was kidding.” Tristan laughed and looped his arm over her shoulders and gave her a brief side-armed hug as they walked back into town. “I just can’t help but wonder how in the world you learned to fight the way you do.”
He’s part of the Dominion!
The warning echoed in Willow’s mind as she pursed her lips, leaving a moment of silence between them. The image of that succubus hovering over Tristan’s brother was a chill reminder of the kind of family the Governor’s son was from. “It was lots of experimentation and fighting with my brothers,” Willow commented as she carefully parsed her words and shrugged. “I’ve just always been pretty good at it.”
As they entered the outskirts of New Memphis, Tristan veered toward the stables just as a young teen-aged girl ran toward Willow.
“Willow!” The merchant girl waved as she raced toward her.
The thickset red-headed girl looked vaguely familiar. She was probably around fifteen and had a pretty dimpled smile.
“Willow, can I please talk to you for a minute? I’ve been dying to ask you a question.”
Tristan gazed over his shoulder toward Willow and waved. “I’ll be with Charger when you’re done.”
Willow nodded toward Tristan and turned to the girl who looked up at her with a shy expression. “I’m sorry, but I can’t remember your name.”
“My name is Jennifer and....” The girl’s chin quivered for a moment and she immediately looked down at her feet.
Willow wrapped her arm around Jennifer’s shoulders and steered her away from the street as the first tear dropped to the ground. “Come on, what’s wrong? How can I help?”
With a sniff, the girl looked up at Willow, stared for a moment, and sighed. “How can I look more like you?”
“What?” Willow stared, at first wondering if the girl was nuts. “You’ve got a very pretty face, eyes, dimples and even beautiful curly red hair. Why in the world would you want to look like me? I’m average at best.”
“But you don’t understand. Will Stephens, he’s one of the engineer boys I met at the Academy.
We’re going to get married in just over two years. That’s when we’re done with our Choosing. But he thinks I’m too fat.”
Willow squinted as rage and understanding surged within her. She motioned for Jennifer to follow her as Willow began trudging uphill toward Melanie’s parents’ place.
“Listen to me, Jennifer. You can’t let self-doubt ruin you, nor can you let other people make you think you aren’t right just the way you are.”
Willow sped up the last third of the hill as Jennifer struggled, barely able to keep up with her pace.
Just as they reached the crest of the hill, Willow turned and watched Jennifer struggle for breath. A feeling that Willow had very distinct memories of. “Jennifer, notice how you’re breathing heavy and I’m not?”
The girl nodded, and her blue eyes glistened with moisture as her chin quivered.
Willow grabbed one of Jennifer’s sweaty hands and held it reassuringly. “It wasn’t long ago that I couldn’t walk up this hill without losing my breath completely. It’s not a good feeling, is it?”
“N-no.” Jennifer began crying.
Willow pulled the distraught girl in for a hug and after a few moments, grabbed her by her shoulders, and stared into her eyes.
“Stop crying, it doesn’t help. I can tell you that I personally felt terrible when it finally dawned on me that I wasn’t able to do simple things like walking up this hill without losing my breath. When I realized that, my own looks were the furthest thing from my mind, and I’d tell you that looks shouldn’t be on your mind either. Worry about being healthy. When I realized how out of shape I was, I began walking. And then when I could, I began jogging. If you work on the things you can control, then everything else will be fine.”
Jennifer glanced at the hill they’d climbed. “But will I lose weight doing this?”
Willow steered Jennifer back toward the hill’s downslope and began leading her back into town. “You might lose weight, but that’s not what’s important. People who have dogs or horses let them out for some exercise to keep them healthy. Sometimes we forget that we’re no different than other animals. We need some exercise too. And if you’re healthy, you’ll be happier. Set goals for yourself that you can work toward. You’ll be amazed how happy you can be when you achieve things you didn’t think was possible. And if you’re happy, the people around you will be happy too.”
“But what about Will—”
“If he’s the right one for you, he’ll be happy because you’re happy. And if he’s not, then maybe he’s not good for you.”
An expression of doubt was etched across Jennifer’s face.
“Listen to me. Do what I’ve said until the end of this school year. Exercise, eat slowly and only until your hunger is satisfied. Believe it or not, you don’t need to eat until you feel like a stuffed werebit. When you come back after the school year’s over, try this hill again. I think you’ll be pleased with the results.” Willow nudged Jennifer and gave her a reassuring wink. “You never know, other boys may suddenly be competing for your attention.”
As the two entered the market square, Jennifer gazed back toward the hill, her jaw set with determination. “I’m going back up the hill.”
Willow smiled, gave Jennifer a parting hug and watched as the girl trudged up the steep slope.
The sun’s orange glow cast an ever-widening shadow across the marketplace and Willow’s mind shifted back to Tristan and the short time they had left together.
“Willow!”
She turned to see Melanie running down hill with a broad smile on her face. “So, what’s this I hear that you’ve been practicing riding a horse. Are you crazy?”
Willow returned Mel’s smile and gave her a nod. “Crazy, and proud of it.”
As Mel walked up to Willow, she leaned close and whispered, “So what about Tristan, any kissy kissy yet?”
Willow rolled her eyes. “I’ve got other things to worry about.” He’s a Vanden-Plas! “Besides, I need to break it to my brothers that I’m going to take pre-tests this trimester for both merchant and soldier.”
Mel gasped, putting her hands over her mouth. “You can’t be a soldier, that’s just crazy talk.”
“Mel, just humor me. Think of it as leaving my options open.” Willow waved for her friend to follow. “Anyway, I promised Tristan I’d meet him at the stables. Want to meet Charger, his horse?”
A sly grin stretched across Mel’s face as she shook her head. “No ... I think you and Tristan should have time together, alone.”
Trying to change subjects, Willow flippantly remarked, “What about you and Gus? Having second thoughts about maybe being a farmer’s wife?”
Mel’s amused look suddenly vanished, and for a moment regret flashed across Mel’s face as she leaned closer and whispered, “He’s missing.”
Willow gasped, “What do you mean missing? When? How long?”
“I’m not sure. He went missing the day before winter break. Nobody saw him leave, and he even missed one his animal husbandry exams. I heard rumors that he was going to fail one of his core classes.” Mel shrugged, putting on a brave face. “But who knows. Maybe it’s just a terrible coincidence and he’ll be waiting with that stupid grin of his, dirt under his fingernails and a bunch of flowers in his hand for me.”
With her heart in her stomach, Willow felt terrible for Mel. Even though her friend acted aloof at times, she was pretty sure that Mel liked that farmboy they’d both met on their first day in the cafeteria. Leaving the Academy ahead of the Choosing ceremony was akin to exiling yourself. You’d be rounded up by the Dominion guards and sent to an almost certain death.
Willow reached out to Mel and grasped her hands. “I’m so sorry to hear about Gus. Let’s hope you’re right.”
Mel gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Things will be fine, I’m sure.” She gave Willow’s hands a gentle squeeze. “Didn’t you have a date with our Governor’s son ... and don’t forget. I expect a wedding invitation.”
“Mel ... just shut up.” Willow waved dismissively.
A husky laugh burst from Mel as she turned Willow in the direction of the stables and gave her a playful push.
As Mel wandered away on whatever errands brought her down from her family’s hill, Willow silently wondered for the thousandth time, “Is it wrong that I’m spending so much time with the Lord Governor’s son? It’s not like it could lead anywhere.”
An Irate Customer
Willow’s legs ached from the long ride back to school on Tristan’s horse, but as Mister Polumny droned on about the upcoming merchant pre-tests, she relished the mild discomfort as a badge of accomplishment. Unlike the awkward aches and pains she’d felt in unspeakable places after her first ride on Charger, the previous day’s ride back to the Academy left her feeling like she’d had a good workout. As Willow’s mind wandered from Charger to Tristan, she had mixed feelings.
Willow had almost wanted Tristan to turn out to be at least somewhat of an ass. And he was, but not in any way that annoyed her. It felt so weird to know that she’d spent time with someone so above her class, yet it felt just like when she spent time with her brothers. Yet, that vision of the demon with Tristan’s brother haunted her. For all she knew, that nice guy façade that Tristan used hid a truly evil interior.
She shook her head and sighed, knowing that she was better off not learning the truth, because it was probably more horrible than she could imagine. Deep inside, Willow knew that getting rid of the Vanden-Plas’s was the right thing for humanity.
Just thinking about Tristan’s family, and especially his father, was enough to send a chill through her and get her mind back on the classroom speaker as he explained the upcoming merchant exercises.
“Over the next several weeks, you students will be put through a range of scenarios that might at times seem unfair. It’s my goal to give you a clear understanding of what you’ll experience at the Choosing ceremony. You’d be well advised to focus on how you and the others do in this ta
sk. Whether you’re a participant or an observer, each and every test is a learning opportunity for all of you. I suggest you pay careful attention, because sometimes you may learn the most from your classmates’ missteps.” The bald-headed teacher leaned over his desk and spoke with an ominous tone. “We all know the consequences of failure at the next stage, and I aim to help you all the best I can.”
Willow studied the room of twenty-three would-be merchants, everyone carried a grim expression. They all knew the dire consequences of failing the next stage, the Choosing ceremony. The ceremony that consisted of a series of tests, which if failed–resulted in exile. Exile would almost certainly result in anyone’s death in the untamed wilderness that was the Forbidding. If the demons and other mutants that existed there didn’t kill you, the pockets of radiation left over from the Great War would certainly be anyone’s death knell.
Mister Polumny pointed at one of the students sitting in the front. “Mister Kraus, it’s your turn. We’re about to see how well you do when faced with a bookkeeping issue.”
Willow touched the largest of the three colored boxes on the countertop and gave a reassuring smile to her mock customer, an actual merchant brought in by Mister Polumny from a nearby town. “Yes, Mister Wells. I guarantee this item’s workmanship and it should make for an heirloom you can pass down to your children and even your children’s children. It will be fifteen wooden Dominion tokens for the large box.”
The would-be customer frowned through his thick black beard at the empty wooden boxes that served as stand-ins for real merchandise. “Fifteen Dominion tokens you say?”
So far, the tests that she’d witnessed had focused on a variety of different aspects of a merchant’s life. Some concentrated on ensuring the sales were profitable, others had to do with educating the customer on the items for sale, and some were all about helping the customer choose between a variety of different products. Willow couldn’t be sure what this test was going to focus on, but given that she’d already been given the “cost” of manufacturing the boxes–she had all the information she needed for pricing things to include a decent profit.
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