Blake wasn’t exactly sure what he could do to get ready. He talked to the others to try to figure out how the Trade worked, because he had no idea they’d even happened until a week or so ago.

  Iver said that it was a sacred tradition that connected them to the beasts they slayed. Blake didn’t really believe that, but he had smelled plenty of incense going around lately.

  Froskur was more interested in the food. He was coming along, of course, but he’d been saving contribution points to sample foods from around the galaxy—which the minor traders would be bringing.

  And then there was Konuth, who was actually straightforward and helpful. He answered Blake’s main question: Blake wasn’t supposed to bring anything, he was just supposed to represent the Red Pine Hunter’s Sect—he was just a number to help with the trading stalls. But if he wanted, he was allowed to exchange a few contribution points and pelts of his own for hacksilver when he arrived, and he could use it to buy what he wanted.

  There were also a fair few warnings about what sorts of powerful people would be present, and that there would be plenty of less savoury people who would try to lock him into deals and bad arrangements.

  Wind-Eyes seemed particularly concerned that there would be two Path Paladins present, and he was more than willing to indulge Blake’s desires for extra training.

  Instead of just allocating the mornings for regular sparring practice, Blake forgoed his afternoons spent reading and instead spent the time practicing with his staff. He had a few tricks up his sleeve, but anyone his age would have much more combat experience than him, and would be a few stages higher.

  At least, according to Wind-Eyes. One night, Blake caught the two of them debating when they thought Blake wouldn’t hear.

  “It would make an excellent show of force,” Ulfreld said. “Scare the Green Bears with our new recruit and his potential.”

  “He’s not ready,” Wind-Eyes replied softly.

  “He doesn’t know how strong he really is,” Ulfreld replied. “But the rest of the Trade is going to see our potential. They have to.”

  “You’re going to get him killed.”

  “I’m doing what’s best for the Sect, Eyes!” Ulfreld rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The Red Pine inner court has been on my back for the past few years. They don’t see their operations on Shell as a whole as worthwhile, and if the Green Bears dissolve our pavilion, they won’t lift a finger to protect us.”

  “This pavilion is a sanctuary for outcasts,” Wind-Eyes said. “That’s what you told me when you recruited me. We were far from the rules of the inner court, and we were free to make our own ways with the guidance of our elders, to find a whisper of peace as long as we kept up our quotas.”

  “And I still believe it.”

  “But will you sacrifice the boy? I cannot stand by while you let one of my students—”

  “It’s not a sacrifice,” Ulfreld insisted.

  “I’m not worried about him against his peers. Ulf, I’m worried about the attention he’ll draw to himself.”

  After that, Blake figured he was pushing his luck, and he ran off to his quarters before he got himself caught. He wasn’t sure how to process any of that except by wondering at what point he should leave the pavilion.

  But he still needed their resources. He didn’t have a Shaping technique or a specialized Augmentation technique yet, and he’d need to actually figure out how to advance through Body Tempering.

  The next day, he told Elder Ulfreld and Wind-Eyes that he was going out for a short hunt—mostly because he wanted to clear his mind, but also because he wanted a few more contribution points to exchange at the Trade in case he found something good. He’d made his monthly quotas, after all.

  It wasn’t hard to find a few howlers. Many of them had fled the mists, and he could just wander the forests outside Clearflow until he found a few.

  As he wandered back toward the pavilion, he found River—as expected. At first, she seemed to appear out of nowhere, but Blake fed her anyway. Now, she was about the same size as a golden retriever. She was growing.

  They walked in silence, until a shimmer ran over her watery pelt, and she disappeared right in front of his eyes.

  “Uh…River? You can do that?”

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  “I do what?” the eiknir’s soft voice returned.

  “Turn invisible.”

  “That is very neat! I did not know I could do that!”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “It’s kinda handy. You think you could do that at will?”

  “I will try.”

  After a half hour of River grunting and mumbling to herself to no avail, Blake returned to the pavilion, only to find Wind-Eyes waiting for him—and looking straight at the perfectly visible eiknir.

  Blake’s stomach dropped. Nords hunted eiknir sometimes, and he couldn’t let her get hurt. He jumped in front of her, putting himself between Wind-Eyes and his watery companion, and reached up to his staff.

  “It’s alright, little one,” Wind-Eyes said. “I will not hurt you.” After a short pause, he glanced up at Blake and said, “I will not tell anyone about this, either.”

  “You…would keep it a secret?”

  Wind-Eyes stepped forward. “Eiknir are a sacred symbol of the Path Paladins, and they were a common bond-companion. I wouldn’t hurt them, Junior Brother.”

  “I thought you weren’t a Path Paladin anymore, sir.”

  “Senior—oh, it’s hopeless.” Wind-Eyes sighed.

  “Sure.”

  “Keep her safe,” Wind-Eyes said. “It is rare to bond an eiknir so early in your cultivation, but if you can, she will bestow you many boons.”

  “Riiiight.” Blake glanced down at River. “I mean, she helped me, uh, pass the time. With conversation.”

  “Hello, mister!” River chimed.

  Wind-Eyes stepped back, chin lifting slightly. “She speaks already? Tell no one of this, Blake, not even Ulfreld.”

  “Alright, sir. But…what can an eiknir actually do?”

  “They fortify your Echo,” Wind-Eyes said. “Your Echo can bond to objects, form attachments and the like. Depending on your foundation strength, you can bind up to seven objects and creatures, each granting unique boons and fortifying it. The stronger the creature, the stronger the boost.”

  “Ah—alright.” Blake didn’t really understand what that meant or what it would do for him, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know yet, or if it would just be an information overload. But after Body Tempering was Foundation, and he’d probably figure out soon enough. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Are you just trying to cause us a headache?” Wind-Eyes groaned.

  “I’ll try to provide for the pavilion while I’m here, sir.”

  After that, Blake told River to hide. She couldn’t go invisible at will, so it wasn’t safe to bring her into the pavilion yet, but soon, she’d be able to come everywhere with him.

  The next morning was the day of their departure, but Blake woke up early to get in a little more practice with the Black Palm. He ventured out into the woods, then held up his staff. Getting the palm art to conduct through the staff was the harder part. But he felt like he was close.

  As he had before, he practiced swinging the staff at a tree, not using any strike in particular, just trying to focus on the palm art.

  As usual, the Black Palm simply cracked against the staff itself. A bolt of snaking black lightning raced up from the ground, searing the staff with cold, before flinging it out of his hands. The staff, powerful and expensive as it was, threatened to splinter at the impact point.

  With a sigh, he walked over and picked up the staff, then twirled it around like Wind-Eyes had taught him. He wanted to ask Ethbin, and he reached into his pocket, fingering the ring, but the old warrior was still silent. Still sleeping.

  Blake had to figure this out on his own.

  Maybe he was doing it in the wrong order. He thought if he started simple, swinging the staff without any real technique, it would be the easiest progression. Then he could advance his techniques and try something fancier. But…

  He took a firm stance, faced the tree, then spun the staff behind himself to build momentum, switching hands and whipping the staff until the air whistled around its tip. At the same time, he focussed on his Honour. He had drawn some in while hunting the howlers, but he could gather more.

  Fighting a tree wasn’t terribly brave, and he wasn’t exactly concentrating loyalty, but his worth? He didn’t exactly understand the concept yet, but he was valuable to the Hunter’s Sect, that much he knew. He focussed on the reaction people had when he’d dragged back the fogterror’s skull. On the warm feeling that invaded his bones when he had seen people win bets because of him.

  Then he slammed his staff into the tree.

  At the same time, he concentrated the Black Palm through the length of wood. Dark Lightning surged up into the staff’s tip, conducting through the snake-like markings. Frost caked the outside of the staff, but it didn’t deal any damage to the wood.

  Then it conducted out into the tree through the contact point between the staff and the tree. A shockwave of raw force jolted off the staff’s tip, followed by a pulse of dark lightning. The side of the tree froze solid around the impact point, before shattering in a burst, leaving a watermelon-sized chunk missing.

  “Woah!” Blake said, jumping back. He laughed a little bit, then held his staff up. “Okay, alright, I get what they meant by twirls and flourishes being important, now.” He grinned from ear-to-ear uncontrollably. “No wonder Wind-Eyes had me practicing staff twirling.”

  Blake practiced for a few more hours, until everyone else began waking up. He concentrated the Black Palm through his staff, but he didn’t have to recharge it every time. The markings on the staff seemed to store the energy, giving him about five enhanced hits—which he decided to call ‘aftershocks’—for every Black Palm he concentrated through the staff.

  When the staff hit the tree without him directly concentrating the Black Palm, it wasn’t obvious what his aspect was, which was a good thing. He didn’t need a bigger target on his back for heretical energies. It simply struck with immense force, froze the target, and let out a few black sparks before shattering it. A regular cultivator wouldn’t sense the sparks, and they raced up to the sky faster than most would notice.

  They’d just think he was a regular staff user, maybe with an ice aspect. It was exactly what he needed.