of you, most of all those of us in the Den. Where’s the justice in that?”
“I didn’t choose to be here,” Aron said, hoping that would appease Galvin so they could move on with their duties, eat, rest for the night, and return to Triune on the morning.
“I did choose to be at Stone,” Galvin countered, his entire body going stiff with his rising anger. “And you may expect to fight me every day. You’ll improve, or you’ll die.”
Aron considered the older boy’s words, and he heard in them an odd sort of bargain. It was a deal he thought he could make, so he assented with a nod. “Agreed. I’ll improve, or I’ll die by your hand, and without complaint.”
Once more, Galvin’s mouth came open, but this time, he didn’t bother to close it right away. He stared at Aron and fumed for a time, then seemed to realize that Aron would not argue with him, no matter what threat he employed. He also seemed to grasp that the mystery of the battle and the end of their trek to the Ruined Keep might reflect as poorly on him as on Aron, so he let the matter drop.
They went about checking and inventorying supplies as instructed, then made dinner of boiled corn and dried meat in the Keep’s small kitchen. The night passed without incident, and at sunrise, they made the long journey back to Triune in absolute silence. The mists kept their distance, and they didn’t hear so much as a whisper or growl from any predator. Galvin kept looking from left to right in wonder. Occasionally, he glanced at Aron, and Aron knew the older boy understood that their safety was somehow tied to Aron’s presence.
Aron was relatively certain that Platt was somewhere nearby, or that the Stregan king had somehow instructed manes and mockers and the beasts of the land to give them wide passage. Still, he was more than relieved to see the gray stone walls of Triune looming ahead of them.
As they reached the castle’s entrance, the wooden gates that had sealed them from safety swung wide to reveal Stormbreaker, Dari, Lord Baldric, Windblown, Zed, Iko, and Blath standing side by side in a straight line like a welcoming contingent. Something about their stoop-shouldered postures and ruffled appearances made Aron wonder if they had slept, or if they had kept vigil in those very positions the entire day before, the long night, and today as well. He made a point of not looking too closely at Iko, lest he react in some way that might make the others suspicious about what took place at the Ruined Keep.
Aron crossed through the archway back into Triune beside Galvin with a sense of returning home, to the place he most belonged, to the closest thing he would ever again have to a family. Dari, Blath, Zed, and Iko let their relief show on their faces. Windblown had a blank expression, and Stormbreaker seemed both miserable and elated, perhaps guilty for setting Aron such a task.
Lord Baldric looked unusually kind and jovial as he opened both arms and boomed, “Welcome. I—er—trust you checked the supplies?”
Aron quickly gave his memorized report, detailing the status of weapons, food, and water, and he noted that he and Galvin repaired two of the lower Keep doors to better deny entry to scavengers.
“Excellent,” Lord Baldric said, then turned his attention to Galvin Herder. “And what report do you bring me? Should we keep this boy, or send him to judgment?”
Aron’s pulse stilled as he turned his head to stare at Galvin. He hadn’t considered that Galvin would have been charged with observing him, and carrying information back to the Lord Provost and likely to Stormbreaker as well. He certainly hadn’t considered that Galvin would be given any voice in Lord Baldric’s decisions about Aron remaining at Triune.
Galvin’s expression remained angry and distant, as it had since he woke in the Ruined Keep. For the moment, he remained sullen, but when he did begin to speak, Aron fully expected some sort of indictment, perhaps even accusations that he had used his graal to get them safely to their destination, or return them to Triune without attack.
Aron couldn’t make himself breathe. He knew panic again, hard and desperate, charging through every muscle and vein, and it was all he could do not to start shaking, or explode, or swing his fists at Lord Baldric.
This wasn’t fair. After everything he had been through since Harvest, not