I had not. Or, at least, not in a way that made it so I could show everyone up and immediately travel through different shadows.

After spending so long in the shadows while I had recovered from the festerling’s spit, I could tell that the yellow and green pine trees’ shadows were different. It didn’t matter which one I fell into, in the oil and fog world of the shadow paths it felt like they were…stretching towards something. That hadn’t happened in the other shadows.

With goddess made pine trees and shadows, they demanded attention. They weren’t something you could just ignore. That made it easier to grasp ahold of the one you picked and slip in and out of it, but the whole time I was in the shadows paths it felt like the shadow I had entered was trying to swallow me whole. I couldn’t spare any thought towards finding another shadow to exit out of, even if I knew how, because of the overwhelming presence of the one I had used as an entrance.

With regular pine tree shadows it still felt somewhat difficult to enter and exit them, like I had to force my way in or spend time untying a simple door knot, but then there was nothing when I was actually in the shadow paths. No path to follow or anything else to sense, no obvious hint for what to do next.

This felt like a hint. Like I was supposed to follow where the shadows stretched to, but there weren’t any tree shaped shadows to follow in the shadow paths. There weren’t any shadows at all, oddly enough. Just the fog obscuring everything and endless oil slick floor.

I tried to follow the sensation then. Grasp ahold of the point the shadow was stretching towards, but each time I tried it felt like I was being blocked from going further or I couldn’t find where the shadows were going or it slipped through my fingers. Or all of the above.

It didn’t take long for my frustration to reach a boiling point. I could be patient, I could, when it felt like I was making some kind of progress and when a deadline wasn’t breathing down my neck. But as it was, it had already been nearly a day, the First Flurry was looming closer, and I was still popping out of shadows where I didn’t want to.

I left the shadow I was in then and ended up near the tree’s trunk. And only a step or two away from Juniper. She took a startled step backward at the same time I did. Then her expression hardened and I slipped away as she disappeared into the shadow.

Given that we only had two shadows to work with we had split into two groups of three. Wren had declared that Ulo and Nii were with her and dragged them off to the other tree. I wasn’t sure if she was taking one for the team or simply trying to keep away from me after our argument in the tent. Either way it left me, Juniper, and Breck with the remaining dual colored tree, which was already more cramped than we were used to training with.

Using the shadow wasn’t the problem. It was a good size, so there was more than enough room for us all to stand on it and enter the shadow paths at the same time. The trouble came with exiting the shadow—like the awkward encounter with Juniper. I wasn’t entirely sure how well the others could control where they left the shadow, but there had been a handful or more of incidents, and I knew I wasn’t responsible for all of them.

Fern had graduated from lounging at the clearing’s edge to training of her own. I watched as she faced Colm in a practice bout of hand to hand combat. She won, of course, but it was still weird to see her facing off against an old man who had the competent moves of an experienced fighter. Of course, Creed had fought along with the others on the shore and he had mentioned how fire starters all got basic training in the Seedling Palace, but it was one thing to see Creed fighting and quite another with Colm. He put me in mind of Old Spinner, back in the tribe, and I don’t think Old Spinner even knew how to throw a proper punch.

Still, Colm was a good enough practice partner to put Fern through her paces and to give Wren enough time to glance over, try to talk herself out of whatever she was thinking about doing, glance over again, and then stride on over to the pair.

Wren crossed her arms as Fern put Colm in a headlock. “This isn’t working.”

Colm patted Fern’s arm and she let him go before turning to face Wren. “What isn’t?”

Wren gestured angrily back at the trees. “Shadow walking! We don’t know what we’re doing and pretending like we do is wasting time.”

“Your group leader should be bringing this to me.” Fern took the water pouch Colm was offering and took a drink. “Besides, you’ve had two months practice. My group had less and we still figured it out.”

Wren didn’t budge. “Juniper’s busy. And we didn’t practice going between shadows.”

“Bother me when she isn’t busy.”

Juniper chose that moment to appear from the shadow.

Wren grinned. “There she is! Give me a moment.” She hustled over to the younger girl and started dragging her back over to Fern and Colm. “I was just telling them that we weren’t making any progress like this. Don’t you agree?”

Juniper looked somewhere between shocked and miffed, but she went along with Wren’s ploy and nodded.

Wren pressed her advantage. “So don’t you think that Fern should teach us or at least give us some kind of clue about what we should be doing? Apparently, her group had less time than us to practice and they still completed this challenge.”

Juniper’s expression cleared of shock at that last bit of information and she drew her spine up straight. “I do.”

Fern glanced over at Colm before relenting. “Fine, but I’m not repeating myself, so make sure you have everyone you want to hear in front of me in the next fifteen minutes.”

Because Wren was involved, everyone was in front of Fern before her time limit was up. She looked over us with a fair bit of frustration. “You’ve had at least two months practice. You’ve experienced others’ shadow walking. These trees are connected to the one on the statue, so distance should be less of a factor. Why do you think you’re failing at the basic skill that your boon grants you?”

Wren’s lips pressed together. “We don’t know what we are supposed to do.”

“No.” Fern’s tone was short. “You do know. You know the basics: step into the shadow paths, find the shadow you want to exit from, focus on it, reach it, and step out again. You’re just ignoring something fundamental.”

“Which is?” Nii asked.

“The shadow paths aren’t real. They aren’t predetermined or already made. You have to make them, every time you enter. That can be in and out of the same shadow or in and out of different ones. It makes no difference either way—in both cases you should be shaping the paths around you, not trying to fit yourself to them.”

I blinked.

It was simple. But I hadn’t been doing that.

I had been trying to feel the shadows like they were already linked together, already a pathway, but of course they weren’t. They were shadows. I was the one with the power to walk them, to link them together. I had to make them do what I wanted.

Breck had turned her bored gaze on Fern. “If traveling through the same shadow or different ones doesn’t make a difference, why didn’t we learn how to travel through different ones first?”

Fern looked like she was struggling not to roll her eyes. “We didn’t want to have to search you out in forest while you were practicing. Keeping everyone to one shadow at first keeps things tidy and, besides, precision is more difficult within a single shadow. If you increase your precision for appearing exactly where you want to in a single shadow, you’ll have even more control when you’re traveling over distance.”

Confusion drew Wren’s eyebrows together. “A single shadow is more difficult?”

Fern nodded. “It all appears the same in the shadow paths, so if you were able to appear on a branch like you wanted, or near the trunk, or anything else, then it means you had a strong image of the path you wanted and had enough control to manipulate the shadows to take you exactly where you wanted.”

The memory of Hana causally pulling me into the shadow paths, taking one step, and making us reappear a few feet from where she had pulled me in flashed through my mind. If control within a single shadow was as difficult as Fern said, and she had that kind of control, it was no wonder that she had been able to travel an insane distance to a single newly grown pine tree in the middle of Flickermark.

“If we’re moving the shadows around us then why do whisper women walk in the shadow paths?” Juniper asked.

“Because you’re not moving the shadows. You’re making a link and there will always be some distance to travel to cross that link.” Fern swept her gaze over us, unimpressed. “That’s all you should need. If you still have trouble then figure it out yourself or talk to the others in your group.”

We listened to the clear dismissal and broke away from her, back to our respective shadows. Breck, Juniper, and I all shared a look as we stood under the green and yellow tree before we stomped our heels down. The shadow broke under me as I fell into the shadow paths.

I took in a deep breath as I took in the swirling gray and silver smoke, and did what I could to set my frustration aside. Again there was the sense of the tree’s shadow stretching out into the distance to reach something else. Rather than try to follow that sensation, like I had for the past day, I focused my attention on the shadow of the other pine tree in the clearing. I wasn’t sure yet about the one on the statue, but that one had to be within my reach.

I built a picture of it in my mind, down to the last detail that I could remember, like it was a plant I was memorizing for my healer’s training and placing in the field outside of my memory tent. Every green and yellow needle, the rough brown bark, the roots burrowing into the ground, the gray-black shadow shifting slighting from the wind over the grass.

I nearly lost my hold on the image when I felt that shadow push through the haze of the shadow paths and my awareness of the one I entered. As soon as I recovered, I clamped ahold of the other shadow, keeping my awareness on it. Not entirely conscious of what I was doing—other than that doing it felt right—I tied the two shadows together. Creating a path. Then I took a moment to orient myself before I strode forward. I could feel the shadow I had entered at my back and the other shadow in front of me, the link tugging at my mind.

It only took six steps for me to sense the second shadow under my feet. I stomped my heel down and then I was falling.

The world was a blur of green, yellow, and blue as I kept falling as I exited the shadow. A thin branch whipped past as it scratched my arm. The ground felt like a gut punch as it knocked the air from my lungs.

But I couldn’t help but grin.

I was across the clearing. Laying in the shadow of the other odd tree.

I had walked the shadows.

Even if the landing left a lot to be desired and I doubted that I would be able to do the same with regular pine trees.

I had walked the shadows without a whisper woman dragging me behind her like a child.

My grin stretched a little wider. If beating Hana at her own game took detailed mental images, focus, control, and simple practice, then I had a lot going in my favor. After all, I had childhood’s worth of those things and it wouldn’t be difficult to redirect my use of them to an new pursuit.