The storm blew itself out two days later. Men of various tribes were sent to clear away the snow drift that had piled up against the entrance while everyone else bided their time and hoped that the majority of the herds had made it through. When we did make it outside, I saw that most of the snow drifts weren’t nearly as bad though the snow did rise nearly to my waist in some places, even in the valley. It was late evening by the time we broke free of the meeting hall, so rather than soak in the fresh air everyone offered a prayer to the goddess before hurrying to find their things in the makeshift pens. There was little chance of uncovering everyone’s things before night fell, but those that found their stuff and had time to set them up would. Four days wasn’t the longest a storm had kept us in the meeting hall together but is was more than enough time for the itch for privacy to grow. If you didn’t have to spend another night with nearly two thousand people in the same room, why would you?

Rawley and the other lone huntresses went to help dig out the herders in the holding pen since they didn’t have to worry about unearthing their things. The older children and those of us who had newly become adults were put in charge of the younger children in the meeting hall.

Fellen and I were quickly besieged by curious children who wanted to know all about our time in Flickermark now that they had easy access to us. Fellen did her best to answer without giving away telling details and I scooped up a child who cried easily, daring everyone around me to disturb him as he fell asleep against my shoulder with a look. No one did.

Still, even with the clamor around Fellen, it didn’t take me long to spot the other bubble of quiet that the children were avoiding. Kem sat close to Adley, fidgeting while staring over at a group of friends who seemed to be laughing at a joke one of them made. Adley pretended to look prim and proper, like the whole arrangement was her idea.

A part of me was vindictively gratified to see that they were finally being forced to confront what I had dealt with alone for years. Another was irritated to see how easily the others turned away once the healer’s craft was fully embraced even if I understood why. The more the twins learned, the more life they accumulated and that was a stain not easily forgotten or washed away.

I could have let them be; I knew they would have preferred it. It wasn’t like we had ever been that close even before I was cast out of the family. But the realization that this was probably the last time I could get close to them without also seeing her before I left pushed me forward.

I didn’t like the fact that I didn’t entirely know what I wanted to say—though I knew what I didn’t want. The threats and insults of our last meeting encouraged more of the same kind, but I was tired of letting her win fights she wasn’t even a part of. Nor did I want to commiserate about their current circumstance—they were never understanding when I had been in their position and healing could fulfilling in its own right if they gave it a chance.

Adley scowled up at me as I stopped in front of them. “Come to gloat?”

I shifted as the child I was holding moved in his sleep and didn’t say anything. Kem had always been a restless sleeper too, though once Adley feel asleep not even a thunderstorm could wake her. Kem glared at me too even as his hand found Adley’s and gripped it hard. He had always needed her strength to be brave.

“Don’t let her trap you in the tent.” The child stirred as I spoke and I quickly rubbed his back so that he fell back into a deeper sleep. The last thing I needed was for him to started crying loudly into my ear.

Adley scoffed. “As if you care. Besides, just because you couldn’t handle Mother’s teaching methods doesn’t mean we can’t.”

“If you think making you sit in that tent day after day has anything to do with healing than you’re more a fool than I thought.”

The insult slipped out before I even had a chance to decide if I wanted to withhold it or not. I gritted my teeth and left them before we had a chance to spit out any more. The twins might be fools salivating after the scraps of a beggar queen but, as I recognized before, letting another full blown argument spark did nothing but serve her and I had no desire to serve her wishes any longer.

Parents came to collect their children as night fell. I stayed close to Fellen and didn’t look up even when I felt that potent look of disappointment through the crowd. What she thought didn’t matter anymore.

The meeting hall was notably less crowded that night. Some people were apparently still attempting to uncover their things despite the numbing night air and cloudy sky obscuring the moonlight while herders were in the thick of counting their herds and catching escaped animals. It might have been easier for them to wait until morning to do the same, but with livelihoods and tribal survival at stake if too many animals were lost they didn’t feel like they had the luxury of sleeping the night away. Huntress search parties would be the ones sent out in the morning once the tribal leaders had more information.

Which was why I spent the next morning combing the northern part of the valley with Rawley rather than help Old Lily and the other wards set up Grandmother’s tent along with other miscellaneous tasks. We were on the lookout for reindeer, elk, only a handful of sheep, and three people. The couple I heard about had not been in the holding pen and it turned out that a young herder had also been missing from there. Most of the reindeer, elk, and sheep were collected but as that first day wore into two and then three it became clear that the bodies of the three missing people were most likely shambling their way to the nearest Grove.

No wood was wasted in empty funeral pyres for them nor the funeral story told in procession. All their loved ones received in closure was a new flame mark on their ribs. The failure to find and save them from a twisted fate as shamble men weighed down the valley as the Dark Night celebrations drew close.

The afternoon before the celebrations were set to begin Rawley brought me back to the outcropping where she first began my poison craft training. Though this time we sat side by side, our feet hanging off the outcropping’s edge.

She looked over at me and smiled. “Recite the recipes I’ve taught you.”

There were thirty three in all. Eleven for each category of poison. Most had to do with common animals the huntresses hunted, but two of each had been poisons for humans—Rawley knew that if I used my new knowledge those would probably come in more handy than the ones for beasts. More exciting, was that four of the last poisons she had taught me could be induced through smell or touch, depending on the recipe. However, all of my knowledge was theoretical. Given the specifics of the recipes and our time constraints Rawley never had me actually make one of poisons and test it. She said that as long as I knew and followed the recipes, should I ever even need to use them, they should work as intended. That didn’t sit well with my years of training as a healer given that I had often be forced to make the same simple recipes over and over again in order to make sure the result were similar even when I knew the recipe by heart. But I told myself I could always practice the poison recipes in the future and that if the recipes had worked well for the huntresses’ for years with little mishap and not constant practice than perhaps they would work the same for me.

When I finished reciting the last one Rawley leaned back on her hands and took in the white valley before us for a long moment. “Good.” She pointed to a stick sticking out of the snow behind us, just out of reach. “Retrieve that stick without moving from your spot.”

I gave her a knowing look, fully recalling on of the first lessons she tried to teach me. Still, instead of asking her for help like she wanted I pulled my sling from around my belt, hooked it around the stick, and managed to pull it close enough that I could grab it. I presented it to her, victorious.

“Any other lessons?”

She chuckled, a little sad, a little proud. “Stubborn, clever girl.” Then Rawley thought for a moment before she continued. “I don’t need to see your skill with sling, spear, or traps again—I’ve seen more than enough over the past weeks. And this snow does little for a game of hide and hunt.” She rose her eyebrows at me. “Do you think you are ready?”

Of course she had give another one of those trick questions, the ones that trapped you no matter how you answered. I took my time to answer and I saw her approval out of the corner of my eye as I did so. “I’m sure there’s more that could you teach me and that I could improve on my current skills, but we’re out of time.”

Rawley hummed her agreement. “One final lesson then. Are you ready?”

I nodded, a little wary.

“It’s simple enough. What’s one thing you never have to doubt?”

I stared at her, uncertain how to answer, but as always some kind of answer was better than none. “The goddess?”

“Perhaps.” She looked thoughtful for a moment before gesturing for me to give her my wrist. I did so and she tapped my apprentice mark. “I’ll always be your mentor.”

The grateful warmth that flooded me at her words scared me, but I didn’t pull my wrist away. She deserved more from me than that. We both knew she had done more than most mentors would have even thought to do. “Thank you.”

She smiled, serene and satisfied. “Ready to receive the three leaves of poison?”

I held my wrist higher. “I’m ready.”

Rawley pulled out inking tools from a pouch on her belt and we spent the rest of the short afternoon on the outcropping as she carefully pricked my skin with a bone shard before rubbing the ink in. The air was cold, but the sun was warm and I couldn’t look away as prick by prick she gave plants and their intricacies back to me.