saw that, indeed, Soren was not among the havoc.
“Do you see Runa?” Barclay asked her.
Viola shook her head. “Should we ask them?”
She pointed to Mandeep, Floriane, and Athna. They were once again seated alone at a table covered in Athna’s mugs of ale, Mandeep and Floriane bickering with each other. Barclay agreed, and they strode toward them.
“Ah,” Mandeep said, sighting them and grinning. “The champion of the third exam! What can we help you with?”
“He’s not the real champion just because the Murdock boy left,” Floriane grumbled. “I’m worried about him. Where did he go? He isn’t from the Woods.”
“He keeps a Nathermara,” Mandeep said. “There isn’t much in the Woods more fearsome than that.”
Floriane’s lip quivered. “But it’s a Sea Beast. And Midwinter is tomorrow.…”
“Do you know where Runa Rasgar is?” Barclay asked them.
“I would check the High Keeper’s office,” Mandeep said.
“I believe her words were ‘Then I’ll wait here until he decides to return and do his,’ um…” Floriane glanced nervously at Barclay and Viola. “ ‘His job.’ ”
Somehow Barclay got the sense that Runa’s words had been more colorful than that. “Thank you,” he told them, and he ran off, Viola behind him.
Erhart’s office was in the corner of the room, with a golden plaque on the door with his name. Barclay knocked until Runa answered.
“The High Keeper isn’t here right now,” she grumbled without looking at him. Then her eyes drifted down to the pair of them. “I thought you’d come find me. Come in.”
Barclay and Viola slipped into Erhart’s office. It was filled with a collection of books and antiques. Runa sat on his desk as comfortably as if it were her own. She gestured at the two seats in front of her.
“Is it true that Tadg’s gone?” Viola asked.
“I’m afraid so. It’s dangerous for any Lore Keeper to wander around the Woods, especially at this time of year. And Tadg is only a student.” Runa shook her head. “No one will go after him now, of course. It’s much too—”
“And Soren? He’s gone too?” Barclay asked.
“What?” Runa asked sharply. “I thought he was with Erhart.”
“He isn’t. We were just with him,” Viola told her.
Runa furrowed her eyebrows. “That greedy, incompetent man,” she muttered. “I told him this would happen. Moving the Exhibition to Midwinter…”
“Tadg also mentioned that the Exhibition had been moved,” Barclay said. “Why is that important?”
“Midwinter is one of the two times each year that the Lore of the Woods—of any Wilderland—is at its strongest. It means Gravaldor will wake from his rest in his home in the center of the Woods. If the Woods are calm, he returns to sleep, but if not… he will attack anything in his path, eating and gathering energy and Lore to feed the forest. Can you guess the other time of the year he does that, Barclay?”
“Midsummer,” he murmured. The day his parents had died. “But what do Midwinter and Gravaldor have to do with the Exhibition?”
“All the Lore Keepers in the Woods are here. Those who are normally tasked with keeping tabs on Gravaldor at this time of year are going to find it very difficult to do so. It gives Soren the opportunity he wants.”
Soren had told Barclay that his real interest lay in Legendary Beasts. He’d told him during the second exam, in the Woods. The idea of Soren adding Gravaldor to his collection terrified Barclay.
“Can’t he just summon Gravaldor?” Barclay asked.
“He can’t,” Viola answered. “The ingredients for the trap are almost impossible to find. I should know—they took me ages. And the Mourningtide Morel can only be foraged before the first snow. His window to try it passed.”
“What happens if Soren bonds with Gravaldor?” Barclay asked.
Runa gave him a dark look. “The Legendary Beasts control all the flow of magical power in the world, which is what has made them so coveted throughout history. If Soren bonded with Gravaldor, he would have power greater than the Grand Keeper. And who’s to say he will stop there? This isn’t the first time Soren has attempted to go after a Legendary Beast. If Conley Murdock hadn’t let Soren join him to study Lochmordra over Midsummer, Conley would still be alive today. Why do you think Tadg and Soren hate each other?”
“H-hate each other?” Barclay sputtered. “But Tadg is his apprentice!”
“His apprentice!” Runa barked out a laugh. “Tadg is my apprentice. Or he was going to be, had he not charged into the Woods after Soren before the Exhibition ended.”
Barclay’s stomach did a painful somersault. Tadg’s