Chapter 54

Clara

Ronan came to visit early the next evening. His wrist was bandaged and there was an impressive bruise on his chin, but otherwise he was unhurt.

I jumped up from my seat and wrapped Ronan in a hug.

“I’m glad to see you, too,” Ronan said. “You weren’t too scared, were you?”

I shook my head. I probably should have been afraid, but I was too busy.

“She spent the attack assisting the healers,” Tracy informed him.

“You did? Thank you.” Ronan paused, and then grinned. “Of course. You were the ‘real quiet one’ that Gregor mentioned!”

I nodded, oddly pleased that the gruff healer had remembered me.

“I’m sorry our date ended so abruptly,” Ronan said. “I brought pastries as an apology.” He held up a basket.

I pulled out my notebook. “No need to apologize,” I wrote. “But those smell amazing so I will accept.”

Ronan laughed and handed over the basket.

“I almost forgot!” I wrote, and turned to find Ronan’s violin. “Safe and sound.”

“Thank you. I truly do appreciate you caring for her,” Ronan said, taking the case. “This old girl’s been with me as long as I can recall. She’s all I have of my home, now.”

I wondered where Ronan’s home was. I knew from Jules’ story that the denizens of the Warren were outcasts and refugees. Had he been from one of those villages burned in the war?

I didn’t want to ask. It seemed like it might bring up painful memories.

We tucked into the pastries while they were hot and fresh. Tracy offered a light fruit wine to accompany the meal. Ronan lingered after we finished, which gave me a chance to ask something important.

“How do I become a scout?” I wrote.

“You want to join us?” Ronan asked, obviously surprised.

“Yes,” I wrote. “I want to help. I want to protect this place. These people.”

I half expected Ronan to laugh. I was a maid, and a defective werewolf. Who was I to think I could protect anyone?

Instead, he considered my question seriously.

“It’s possible you would end up fighting against warriors from your old home,” Ronan said. “Would you be all right with that?”

I nodded, and wrote, “I don’t want to hurt them, but if they come here to hurt the Warren, I will do what I have to do.”

“That’s fair,” Ronan said. “Do you have any training? You did well helping the healers.”

I shook my head and wrote, “I was a maid, and a personal attendant. Then a mistress. I don’t think I have any practical skills. Unless scouts spend a lot of time dusting.”

Ronan laughed. “I don’t know, we do spend a lot of time cleaning up after other people’s messes. Your skills might be more useful than you think.”

“Is it a problem that I can’t speak?” I wrote.

“We can work around that,” Ronan said. “A lot of the time we have to pass codes and written messages anyway, so it’s not that big an issue that you can’t talk.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Tracy asked. “The scouts do the most dangerous jobs in the Warren.”

I gave her a quick hug. “I will be careful.”

“Scouts aren’t careful,” Tracy said. “You try to be, but then something comes up, and Ronan is dragging you home from some dank dungeon half dead.” She turned to pin Ronan with a look. “And that’s assuming Ronan isn’t the one being brought in on a stretcher.”

Ronan grinned, “We do the job, that’s the important part. But she’s right. It is dangerous. Your own mother was lost on a mission, remember. And until you showed up, we never even found out what happened to her. She’s not the only scout we’ve ever lost, either.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” I wrote.

“No,” Ronan said. “I honestly believe you would make a great scout. We would be lucky to have you.”

“But?” I wrote, certain there was more he wanted to say.

“But,” Ronan said with a soft smile, “the life of a scout is constant danger. I can’t keep you safe, no matter how much I want to. If you’re the best one to send on a dangerous mission, I have to send you. Even if that means risking your life. Even if that means never seeing you again.”

I nodded. “I understand,” I wrote.

My mother had made the same choice. And she had never come back.

But would it be better to stay safe and sound in the Warren, but be helpless the next time an attack came? I was still in danger. By joining the scouts, I would be able to fight for myself.

“So I want to be a scout,” I wrote. “What do I do? Where do we start?”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Ronan said, “You’ve already made a decent start, by helping the healers. Gregor and Naomi would happily teach you. Scouts go out on our own, and we don’t often have the luxury of running to a healer when we’re hurt. So all of us have to know basic first aid and triage.”

That made sense. “I will accept the healers’ offer to teach me, then,” I said. “What else?”

“Don’t rush yourself,” Ronan said. “Start with first aid, and we’ll have to test your fighting abilities.”

“I have no training,” I admitted, hating having to write the words out. “I was always bullied, and I had to just take it.”

“Hm. You know how to take a hit and how to fall, then. You’d have to have learned, to survive.”

I thought about it, and nodded. I had learned, the hard way, how to land without breaking anything and how to turn my face so that the worst I got hurt was a bruise.

“There you go,” Ronan said. “I think you’d do well learning Jordan’s fighting style. She mostly uses evasion and distraction, then closes in with sharp, quick attacks to disable her enemies. You’re small and quick, so you should be able to do the same.”

“That sounds okay,” I wrote.

I honestly wasn’t sure I would ever be any kind of fighter, but I was willing to try to learn.

“Great,” Ronan said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll go talk to Jordan, make sure she’s up for taking a student. You go talk to the healers. Once we see where you are with those skills, I’ll start working with you on some of the more esoteric skills scouts need. A lot of it you kind of have to pick up as you go, but you’re a fast learner.”

“Is there a chance I could learn that thing you did in the dungeon, with the shadows?” I wrote. “That seems useful.”

“Shadow magic is extremely useful,” Ronan said. “You might have the talent for it, I don’t know for sure. Your mother was skilled, actually, and I was able to teach your father a little bit if you can believe it. He could never hold a full shadow shield, that’s what that was in the dungeon, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve.”

“You’ll teach her that yourself, right?” Tracy asked.

“I will,” Ronan promised.

“There’s no one better at weaving the shadows,” Tracy explained. “If you’re going to do this, I want you to have the best teaching you.”

Ronan chuckled. “High praise from you, Tracy.”