Thirty-eight. Ember’s shin connected with the rough bark of the pine tree with a resounding crack. Dull pain, numbed by repetition, expanded outwards from the area of impact. Thirty-nine. A piece of wood splintered and flew past her face. Forty. She dropped down into a push-up position, touching her chest to the dirt ten times.

Forty-one. Blood pulsed an even rhythm in her ears. She could feel the latent strength in her limbs, and with her infrared vision activated, see the new layers of scar tissue which appeared like white blotches on the redness of her flesh. 

Forty-two-

“Ember!” someone shouted. “I thought I might find you here!” 

Ember stopped mid-kick, reeling off to the side of the tree. With the trance broken, pain raced up the branching nerves in her legs. The disquiet of her mind, temporarily staved off by training, returned in full force. She sucked in air through her teeth. “Morgan? What are you doing?” she asked, a little too sharply. 

“I haven’t seen you since Carn’s party,” the pangolin said, looking a little hurt. “That was two weeks ago. Besides, I wanted to say congratulations!”

Ember felt as though she was missing a crucial detail. “For what?”

“Exams, of course!” Morgan exclaimed. “You took the top spot. Roland is beside himself.”

“Well, thank you,” Ember said after a pause. She had completely forgotten about exams, assuming that the announcement of the first month’s grades would be overshadowed by the news from Ciradyl. 

Morgan’s eyes flicked over her, widening. “But what in the world are you doing?”

Ember looked down at herself and cringed. Her shins, forearms, and hands were painted brown with a mixture of blood, dirt, and torn scales. She waved a hand in a gesture of dismissal, and a droplet of blood flew from her knuckles and splattered onto her leather boots. 

“I’m training,” she said rather pointlessly. “Bone hardening. One of the reptiles showed me.”

“Riiiiight,” Morgan said, looking at her like she was crazy. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”

“That’s part of the training.”

“But it’s a little much, isn’t it?” Morgan asked skeptically. “Are you okay?”

Ember sighed internally. She hadn’t told the pangolin about her father’s house arrest—their conversations were usually filled by Morgan talking about herself, which suited Ember fine—so she wouldn’t understand why the coup had negatively affected Ember’s mental state. Stalling for time, she wiped her palms on her pants, which only managed to smear blood over her thighs. “Yes. Don’t worry.”

“Well, all right, then,” Morgan said, still unconvinced. “Would you like to come to lunch with Seb and me? He wants to get another look at your knife.”

Ember hesitated. She would have preferred to say no, but Marcus’s words about the importance of one’s friends echoed in her ear. “Sure,” she sighed, with herculean effort, “thank you. just let me clean up first.”

***

Ember leaned back on her bed with her bloodstained boots still on, one arm thrown over her forehead. A small piece of dirt detached itself from the sole and spilled over the white sheets. It was something her parents would have scolded her for, back when they lived in Maple Valley; now, there was no one around to say anything, and she felt their absence like a blow to the chest. 

In one hand, she held the day’s newspaper, which someone—presumably Marcus—had left outside of her door for her to find when she returned home from her run. She unrolled it and held the first page up to her face. 

The mayor’s statement about the coup in Ciradyl was printed on the first page: 

Regarding the shift in Ciradyl from a monarchy to a theocracy, there is no cause for alarm. The archbishop has expressed a desire to uphold the treaty and confirmed that the priest involved in the events of the winter solstice was acting of his own accord. Regardless, security will be increased at the border until negotiations are complete. 

Below the paragraph, Marcus had scribbled the words ‘A little late’ in pencil. 

Ember’s mouth twisted into a frown. It was late—almost a week had passed since the initial announcement. She could almost see Corax poised above Mayor Richardson, guiding his pen with his feathered fingers. 

But the crow’s motives escaped her. If Matthias is plotting war as I suspect, it seems unlikely that his actions would be missed by Corax’s spies. Why, then, would the headmaster want the mayor to reassure Mendel’s civilians? She shook her head, doubting herself, and dumped the newspaper unceremoniously onto the floor. 

She flopped back onto the sheets, staring up at the ceiling, where she had once again glued the wooden star from her childhood. The day’s assignments seemed to look at her beseechingly from her desk, but she could not find the will to complete them. Instead, the idea of training bubbled up in her mind like a beacon of hope. 

I’ll ask Jisu if she wants to spar, she decided, ripping a scrap from the newspaper and groping for a quill on her bedside table. 

Thunk. Something pinged against the window. Outside, she could hear the sound of voices, and inexplicably, barking.

She roused herself and walked in a daze to the window. Below, Naz and Carn were waving at her as Carn’s new puppy ran circles around his feet. “Come down!”

The sight of them flooded Ember with adrenaline, and she blinked as though waking up. A couple of curious reptiles had gathered at their windows and were eyeing the group with interest. Hurriedly, she splashed her face with water and pulled her hair back into a knot. She hadn’t spoken to her friends in a week, but all of her anger about the fight had long since dissipated, and she was relieved that they had been first to bridge the gap. 

She raced around the side of the reptile dormitory, slowing down once she was within sight of Naz and Carn. Both of them had ditched their usual loose-fitting clothing for trousers and skin-tight shirts, and Naz wore her small knife at her hip. They waved in greeting, a little awkwardly, and she was reminded of the day that she had met them in the unaffiliated dorm’s cafeteria. 

“Hi, guys,” she said. “What are you two doing?”

“Trying not to get eaten by your dorm mates,” Carn muttered, jabbing a finger toward the side of the dorm, where Marcus was resting with his elbows against the window. He gave a slow wink when he saw Ember looking and drew the curtains. 

“He’s joking,” Ember said. “I think. Oof!” She exclaimed as Naz threw her arms around her torso, jostling her. 

“We missed you,” the pisces said, pulling back with a wrinkled nose. “You smell terrible, though.” She looked Ember up and down, her eyes a little wide, but she didn’t say anything if she was surprised by the new bruises. 

Ember laughed. “What’s with the outfits?”

The loach and the fox looked at each other. “Well,” Naz said slowly, “it’s just an idea, but we were wondering if you would be open to helping us train.”

Ember looked between them, baffled. “It wasn’t long ago that you were training me.”

“Sure,” Naz said, “We know the basics, but you’ve far surpassed us now. We want to be prepared for whatever comes.”

“She’s right,” Carn added. “Besides, I haven’t practiced since I got injured.”

It dawned on Ember that this was their olive branch—their way of showing her their support, and she was overcome with emotion all at once. “Yes,” she said, the beginning of tears beginning to prick at her eyes, “thank you.”

Her friends enveloped her in a hug, and she let herself relax in their arms. They were split apart only when Carn’s puppy wormed between them, his gums pulled back and his teeth bared at Ember in an imitation of a growl. He had grown substantially in the short time since she had met him,  evidently deciding that it was his duty to protect Carn from interloping vipers. 

The fox scooped him up, scolding him softly, and held him up to Ember by his armpits. “It’s okay, little guy,” she murmured as he squirmed away from her. He looked between her and Carn, and then relaxed into her touch with a little yap. 

She scratched him behind the ears. “Some hunter you are,” she whispered, and Naz giggled beside her.