Sibras stood. His eyes were wide, showing only a liquid black.


    “Is she dead?”


    Merekis lowered his head. Dan felt his hand slowly let go of his shoulder.


    “I’ve talked to Beramas: the families decided to send him into the Golden Lands to investigate. He was very annoyed. I guess the Iraspes wouldn’t accept to send him away if they knew for sure that she’s dead.”


    Sibras nodded once, or maybe dropped his head in defeat.


    “Good. What about us? Did he give you a new mission?”


    “No. He said to stay put and wait for further instructions.”


    Sibras nodded again. He turned and started walking out of the light of the campfire, but didn’t go too far before stopping and sitting on a rock, his back to the rest of the camp.


    “Leave me alone.”


    Merekis turned and headed toward the other side of the fire. Dan stood where he was, glancing at Sibras, then at Tagu. She walked away too, so he thought it was safe for him to follow her.


    “Dan.”


    He stopped in his tracks and turned to face Sibras.


    “Come here.”


    A fresh wave of fear washed over him. He glanced at the woods all around them, but he’d seen the strays fight: if he ran, they’d have found him. He didn’t want them to think he was involved in Mayvaru’s disappearance. He didn’t want to have them as enemies, and not just because they were dangerous. So he walked on, hesitant step after hesitant step, until he was in front of Sibras.


    “I’m disappointed,” he said.


    Dan lowered his gaze. He hadn’t expected his words to hurt, but they did.


    “I’m sorry. I just thought that Tagu…”


    “Tagu is only eight. You should be the responsible one. Now we’re in a difficult situation and you’re a mouth to feed who can’t participate in missions. Are you going to be a problem?”


    Dan managed to look up at him. He ached to explain why he had deceived them, but he wasn’t sure he’d have found sympathy. At least they didn’t seem to consider him an enemy either.


    “No. I won’t do it anymore.”


    “You’re forbidden to leave the camp by yourself. Your training will be redoubled, as well as your chores. You won’t talk to Tagu alone until you can prove you can be a good influence. Is that all clear?”


    “Yes.”


    “Then go. Leave me alone.”


    Dan walked away with his head bowed. His fear slowly subsided, then spiked up again when he saw the faces of the others sitting on the treetrunks around the fire.


    “Why did you do that?” Merekis asked. “You know secrecy is the only thing that keeps us alive.”


    Another stab of guilt. Dan sat down on the ground, as far away from everyone else as possible.


    “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see the palace.”


    “We were worried sick,” Kaspuru said. “Tagu always tells us when she leaves and never stays away that long. I thought something happened to you.”


    Dan closed his eyes.


    “I’m sorry.”


    “At my village, the one who enters the forest alone dies,” Autur said. “Except for the strongest warriors. I’ll do my best to turn you into one. I promise you won’t like it.”


    And Dan didn’t. Fighting with Autur day after day after day covered his body in bruises, even if they were using wooden weapons or sparring with their bare hands. Since he didn’t really get off days, his muscles were constantly sore. He wasn’t sure it was healthy, but the training doubled as punishment, and he was just glad Sibras didn’t condemn him to something worse, or that he hadn’t pried deeper into his reasons for entering the palace in secret.


    One morning, Autur disarmed him with her wooden staff, sending his fake sword flying across the sparring area. He sighed and jogged to get it back, but Autur barred his way by lashing out with the staff. He managed to avoid it by dropping down into a squat, the muscles of his legs protesting.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    “I just wanted to get my weapon,” he said.


    Autur readied another blow, so he made a few steps backward.


    “You’re an animal person, not a helpless human. If you don’t have weapons, use your body.”


    That moment of distraction was enough for Autur to hit the back of his left hand. He retracted with a yelp, then realized it wasn’t hurting as much as he expected. He observed the scales covering his hand between knuckles and wrist. It had become a common view in the last few days, since his skin was always itching with every new one that emerged. He hadn’t realized they were that sturdy.


    “You already said that. As long as you don’t do it anymore, we’re even.”


    She walked a few steps behind him, stopping when he did, slowing down with him. It was impossible to guess the right direction based on her behavior.


    “What’s going to happen now?” he asked. “Sibras seems upset.”


    “We don’t know yet. We’re still hoping for Mayvaru’s return, I guess. Our whole livelihood depends on her.”


    Dan looked at her.


    “Really? But you’re so strong. You would be able to survive on your own.”


    “You’re still reasoning like a human, hatchling. We need very specific foods. Autur’s boar is rare outside of her forest. If Mayvaru doesn’t return and her stash depletes, she might be forced to go back.”


    Dan couldn’t stand the sadness in her voice.


    “You can hunt them yourself.”


    “That’s what I told the others. If Mayvaru is gone, we should take her place until she’s back. But it’s too soon to talk about that. Sibras isn’t in condition to take such important decisions.”


    “Take her place? What do you mean?”


    “Find rare meat and redistribute it among the villages. We wouldn’t need to hide anymore. They wouldn’t look with suspicion at other people like us.” She chuckled. “Well, maybe that’s a bit too optimistic.”


    They had reached the village. Despite being early afternoon, there was almost nobody around. The pit at the center looked like it hadn’t been used for a few days, with the dead cinders and the weeds pushed against the base of the tree trunks by the wind. The few people passing by took a look at them and disappeared into a side alley.


    “I’ll wait here,” Kaspuru said, leaning against the round wall of a house. “Don’t take too long or I’m going to look for you.”


    Dan walked around the village’s central square alone, keeping his eyes on one specific door. The deserted atmosphere of the village was affecting him. Something had happened, but he planned to take the meat and leave before finding out what it was.


    He stopped in front of Ulres’s door. He only allowed himself an instant of hesitation before knocking. His anxiety diminished a bit when nobody answered, replaced by a mild irritation. He had to knock twice more, and the sound was so sudden in the silence of the village that the neighbor opened the window to look who it was.


    Finally, the door moved. Not enough to open, but he recognized the eye that looked out. It seemed to recognize him as well.


    “Cousin?” Ulres said, and the entrance opened wide, revealing his wife right behind him.


    Dan was prepared to ask for what he needed and nothing else, maybe make them aware of how much he resented them for abandoning him with some offhand remark. He didn’t get the time.


    “We’re terribly sorry we kicked you out,” Ulres said. “Come in. Is there anything we can do for you?”


    “I need meat,” he managed to squeeze out before being dragged inside almost by force.