Selection was an unparalleled honor that opened many doors. One of those being the gates of Wardenclave. Glint Starmark’s standards for attendees were the highest, so their village mostly welcomed in reavers with prestigious connections.
No one could help their parentage. Pedigree was a matter of record. But the only guarantee that came with good breeding was more breeding. Those with rank could expect excellent offers for maternity, paternity, and matrimony. And monetary incentives that encouraged large families.
Pedigree was about potential. But having promise assured nothing. That’s where individual effort came into play. Those who worked hard were more likely to turn heads. And to gain the patronage of a powerful mentor.
“I do not understand,” said Mikoto.
Mentors took one apprentice at a time. And apprentices only ever had one mentor. One-on-one. Personal attention. Mutual dedication. If the mentor was Amaranthine, the bond was so close that the apprentice could wear their mentor’s crest and colors. It was the stuff of stories and dreams, for few could aspire to such intimacies.
It was different for Mikoto. Almost backward.
“How can I be apprenticed to a village?”
“You are the future of Wardenclave. You must build on its foundations.” Yulin’s fingers fluttered. “I am speaking of the Five.”
Mikoto had grown up with the Five. Not the world-famous Five who’d brought about the Emergence. Theirs was the original Five—the five founders of Wardenclave. The Amaranthine who had allied themselves with Mikoto’s ancestor.
Starmark.
Fullstash.
Duntuffet.
Alpenglow.
Dimityblest.
The clan leaders still considered Wardenclave home. Visitors were often impressed by them. Historians could get especially starry eyed. But to Mikoto, these guys seemed pretty normal. They were nice folks. Good neighbors. Family friends.
“I do not understand,” Mikoto repeated.
“You are the first headman to take charge before his fortieth year. And you are the first to be inducted because of his predecessor’s death.” Yulin’s voice softened with sadness. “Traditionally, you would have been mentored by your father.”
But he was gone.
Yulin said, “Gabe left you to us.”
Mikoto swallowed hard. “How could he have? It was sudden.”
“Your progenitor lingered as long as he could. He lived to meet a great-great-granddaughter, but he knew he would never see your fortieth year.” Yulin heaved a shaky sigh and repeated, “Gabe left you to us. Well, to me. But the others demanded their share, and you can only benefit from their council.”
“I … I really do not understand.” Mikoto knew this should have been a great honor, but he hated the idea of being pulled in five directions. “Am I supposed to report to all of you? Will I be assigned courses? Apprentices usually live with their mentor. How can I …?”
“No, my good noble.” Yulin’s hands sought his and supported them. “We will not add to your responsibilities. We will take them for a season, then share them for a season, then return them when the season is right, and you are ready.”
“So I am not in charge?”
“You are.” Yulin gave his hands a squeeze. “But you will delegate the majority of your duties to a staff of volunteers. Us.”
Mikoto realized something that maybe should have been obvious. “Do you speak for the Dimityblest clan?”
“Yes. Until such time as my progenitor returns.” Yulin got straight down to business. “I will be with you, and I will deal with all aspects of public relations. Your induction will undoubtedly garner the interest of the international press.”
Reflexively, Mikoto grabbed Yulin’s wrists. The moth smiled and matched the gesture in a silent pledge.
“Naturally, our first priority must be to our guests. The summer courses begin in a week, and this year’s attendees include some special cases. We need to check with Merl, who will manage the instructors, their schedules, and any supplies they require. He is the Alpenglow designate.”
Mikoto blinked and breathed easier. “Merl is one of my mentors?”
Yulin flashed a sweet smile. “At my request, since you and he have established a certain rapport.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“I am here to make things easier for you.”
“Who else?”
“Salali, of course. And Bram stands by any Duntuffet, so you have your pick of the warren.” Yulin gestured back in the direction of home. “Merl has promised an array of your favorites if you are willing to break your fast with him.”
Mikoto nodded. Then hesitated. “What about the Starmark designate?”
“Ah.” Yulin went up on tiptoe to deliver a fleeting kiss to Mikoto’s cheek. An apology of sorts. One that made the answer quite plain. It would be Glint himself.
THREE
Colt Alpenglow
Wardenclave had been part of the Emergence, chosen for its historical significance. The New World village where an alliance between Amaranthine and reavers was first forged still flourished. A rustic locale where reavers sent their kids to summer camp. It made a good story. Both Hisoka Twineshaft and Harmonious Starmark made sure of that.
Mikoto had been five when the film crews first arrived. Journalists with their questions and angles and human interest. Politicians with their skepticism and their constituents and their upcoming elections. Tourists with their bravery and their bucket lists and their billfolds.
They were always so amazed when they passed through the outer wards, which hid an entire mountain range. Denholm’s unveiling was used to prove the existence—by their very absence—of whole swaths of wilderness under Amaranthine protection. So while peacemakers and lawgivers were hammering out treaties, cartographers and cryptid hunters and conspiracy theorists hunted for more hideaways.
Like it was a children’s game. Hide and seek.
Better than the alternative. Seek and destroy.
As headman of the reaver village, Mikoto’s father had welcomed every group and escorted them around the campground. It was picturesque, with quaint cabins marked by bronze nameplates. All as original as possible, updated and renovated just enough to allow each generation their modern conveniences.
The circle with its amphitheater seating. The lodge draped in clan banners. The veritable zoo occupying their Kith shelter. Pastureland that now served as training grounds. Gabe Reaver had hosted countless tours, often with Mikoto at his side. And somehow, despite the abundant evidence, it never occurred to these wide-eyed humans that barriers could exist within barriers.
They saw a quaint village but missed the city.
They saw the forest but never noticed the tree.
They saw enough, but only enough. Never all.
Again, it was different for Mikoto. The close-kept secrets of Wardenclave were his inheritance. Part of a blood-bond passed down from father to son. But also in the tuning of the many illusions and barriers maintained by sigils, wardstones, and Salali Fullstash.
So when Mikoto rounded the bend that took him and Yulin out of the forest, he plainly saw the village, the city beyond, and the tree that dwarfed it all. Maybe after breakfast, he should go see Waaseyaa.
“He is waiting,” murmured Yulin.