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Chapter 4: Becoming a Ward

“Just be honest.” Astralux can’t stop wriggling, her tail tapping excitedly on the stone floor. “That’s always the best idea around Veremund and my father.”

I’ve been deliberating over a pretty blue dress and a white cloth shirt and dark gray set of slacks for many minutes now. I don’t know whether to look beautiful and confident, or appear at ease and blend in. Deciding that all I’m doing is telling Ward Veremund my intention to join the Wards, and wanting to be practically dressed in case training starts right away, I don the shirt and slacks, slipping on a pair of fresh white socks and slipping my foot into the new dark leather boots that have been provided to me.

It’s at this moment that I realize I brought nothing from home except my shoes, which are badly worn. If only I had grabbed something. Then again, when I had left the house to go the privy, I wasn’t expecting that I would never again step inside my house, and that it would have been set on fire.

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“And that’s when I called for help,” I say. I look up into Astralux’s face, her brilliant white scales appearing to glow by the torches around us as we sit in the Wards’ platform, called the Sunroom, at this late hour. “I’m glad you got me out of there.”

Astralux nuzzles my head. “I was so worried about you.” She smiles. “But I’m also proud of you. You just crawled into that mine to help, without question!”

“I can’t not help people,” I say.

“You are more of a Ward than you realize,” Ward Veremund says. I look up at him in surprise, because that had been my exact ponderings while in the cave.

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“Get me out of here!” Henry coughs, his eye disappearing from the small peephole between the stones for a moment.

“I’m going to do my best.” I step back, not wanting to add pressure to the rocks that cover almost all of Henry. Kneeling, I analyze how the boulders lay atop him. “Henry, are you in any significant amount of pain anywhere?”

“My left foot,” Henry says. “I’m pretty sure it’s twisted up.”

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As Ward Volkan sprints down the cobblestone road, Ward Thorn follows just behind him. I rush after them but Ward Amon slows me till we’re jogging along.

“Careful, I don’t want you wearying yourself to death,” Ward Amon says. “You will be of no help to anyone, then.”

By the time we reach the commotion, there are people everywhere around rocks piled along the side of the mountain. I make out metal carts and picks nearby and spot people, mostly men, with dust on their hands and knees. Miners, I guess, having escaped the collapsed mine.

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I gaze from side to side as Ward Amon guides me by my arm along the main, winding cobblestone street of Adytol. Behind us trail Ward Thorn and Ward Volkan, who I hear muttering to each other even now, and I flinch. I can feel their frustration toward me, their sharp glances on my back as we walk. But I’m not ready to agree to be a Ward yet.

The bustle of Adytol takes my mind off the heavy decision waiting for me—I stare at buildings who have windows full of all sorts of baked goods I’ve never seen before, a street merchant selling a wide variety of freshly-picked fruits and vegetables, an entire store dedicated to shoes—shoes that line so many counters in the window!—and so much more. Children run in packs, chasing each other with mock swords and wooden planks as shields.

“I’m Ward Mortimer!” one little girl declares. “Come, Undabouclier!”

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I tremble from head to foot before the awe-inspiring majesty of Kalteratem. Weakened from my walk here to this landing at the top of the Wards’ palace, I stagger on my feet, in shock. Ward Veremund takes my arm—and Kalteratem’s massive head comes forward and supports me on my right side. His scales, which are as large as cows in some places of his body, are cool to the touch.

“Easy, Estelle,” Kalteratem says. He gives me a gentle nudge toward Ward Veremund, who guides me to where a stone chair has been set beside a large stone table.

I sit, unable to look away from Kalteratem. Hearing a chuckle, I finally pry my eyes away to see Ward Mortimer headed my way, Ward Thorn following.

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Over the sound of Boyce’s family and friends chatting with the weary but relieved patient, I hear a door latch come undone. “Ward Veremund!” one of the woodsmen exclaim.

I turn to see Ward Veremund standing in the doorway to the simple stone room, observing us. Everyone except me bows their head respectfully. Is that the normal reaction one has to a Ward? Or is that just because it’s the leader of the Wards? I decide I better bow my head, too.

Ward Veremund walks up to Boyce, patting him on the shoulder. “How are you feeling Boyce?”

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From a haze of darkness, interrupted only with flitting visions of dragons—both good and bad—I feel a presence and open my eyes. There’s a stone ceiling above me. Confused, I peer around. I’m tucked under the blankets on my cot, which has been returned to the medical room, and set in the corner. At my side is a woman with a few strands of gray in her blonde hair, and the faint wrinkles on her cheeks and along the corners of her eyes deepen as she smiles at me.

“Good morning, Estelle! I’m glad to see you awake. I’m Jaye.”

“Hello, Jaye,” I whisper.

Jaye holds up a ceramic plate with fried eggs on a biscuit, along with apple slices. “Are you up for some breakfast?”

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As I gather my blankets around me and lay down on the cot set out in the sun, Ward Veremund sits in the same wooden chair he had used inside the medical wing. Astralux curls around the other side of my cot, making sure not to block out the sunlight that filters down over us. One of the two ladies that had helped Ward Veremund carry my cot out here returns with a cup of hot tea, which I gladly accept, thanking her.

“Well, aren’t you a dear!” the woman says. “My name’s Karen.”

“I’m Estelle,” I say. “It’s nice to meet you, Karen.”

“And it’s nice to meet you! It’s always good to have more Wards.”

I make myself smile, flinching on the inside. I still don’t even know what it means to be a Ward—what it all entails—and what little I do know, I’m not sure I’m ready to be one.

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Chapter 3: A New Home

“Estelle Brand,” a voice calls, a whisper in my mind’s eye.

From a distant darkness, I see a bright white light. A star, suspended before me. It grows brighter and brighter, and despite the weariness that lays on me, I reach for it.

“There we are,” a voice says, deep and warm.

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