In his tree form, Namu couldn’t see or hear, but he could sense things in a way he couldn’t when unrooted. Both of his friends sat a few feet away. They were…content, but also a little concerned. Probably because they’d found him rooted in the middle of the day, a distinctly unusual thing for him to do.

  Namu shifted slowly back, and sure enough, his friends watched him with concern.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I was just…thinking, then I got tired. That’s all.”

  Mira frowned. There was only one thing he thought about that would make him that sad, and she wasn’t dumb.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  She and Cyrille had offered to help him find his foster mother in the past. The idea of finding her, of knowing, scared him too much to accept.

  “No,” Namu said. “I’m fine. Except in deciding Bubblegum’s training. I…haven’t got to that yet.”

  Mira looked like she wanted to press the subject, but Cyrille grunted and brought up a screen. His rigid stance told Namu his friend had slipped into researcher mode. Researching and caring for animals were among the few things he put such intensity into.

  “Training for juveniles lasts up to thirty days,” Cyrille said in a clear voice. “We have to get her signed up today if we want the full course. It also requires at least one of us to stay with her as she trains.”

  Mira’s gaze still bored into Namu, but seeing the topic of Namu’s melancholy de-railed, she sighed and turned to Cyrille. “How is that supposed to work for solo ranchers?”

  “Hmm…says here you can hire trainers, or, if that’s not possible, a half-day rate is available, allowing you to work in the morning and train in the evening. However, you have to specify when you sign up.”

  “Then you’d only get half the stat growth for your MaGriff, right?” Namu asked.

  “Right. Still, if you have no other option, it’s better than nothing.”

  “We have plenty of options, though. And one great one.”

  Namu slapped Cyrille on the shoulder. The Beastfolk had already stripped his armor off, yet he still didn’t twitch at Namu’s strike.

  “Flattered,” Cyrille said. “But you’re forgetting something. Soon enough, we’ll need multiple trainers. This world’s still young. You need to learn how to train now, when mistakes don't hurt as much.”

  “Okay. I’m not sure how much I can learn on my own, though.”

  “Which is why we will both go.”

  “But if we both go…that means…”

  Namu looked at Mira. Her frown had deepened, but she wasn’t surprised. As usual, Cyrille must have already planned all of it out and told her.

  Mira nodded. “Yes. It means I’ll stay behind to care for the other two.”

  Namu didn’t care to press his luck. There was one other issue, though.

  “You can’t ride,” he blurted.

  “Thank the Goddess,” Mira said. “I never understood some Rebirths’ desire to put their lives in a beast’s hands.”

  “Mira,” Cyrille said, his voice dropping to a growl.

  Mira rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, you two. I can manage feeding them and letting them out of their stalls while you guys are gone. Just because I don’t want to strap myself to their backs doesn’t mean I’ll let them starve or die of boredom.”

  “Mangrove won’t be able to use the track or race,” Namu said. “It’s not much XP or coin, but every bit helps.”

  “That’s where I come in.”

  Namu spun toward the hollow voice.

  Yinying was coming from the house, two cups of tea in their hands. Yinying handed one to a stunned Namu, then tipped their cup back for a drink. The liquid disappeared into the Nightfolk’s mouth, where it turned into glitter and dispersed.

  “One of these fine Rebirths hired me to keep Mangrove’s saddle warm, at a sharp discount, of course. Half my pay is getting hands-on experience with the MaGriffs I’ll be mixing with my lines.”

  “One?” Namu asked.

  He glanced at Mira, who looked strained as she fought to keep her mouth from dropping into a scowl. She caught Namu’s gaze and then flicked her eyes toward Cyrille.

  “That would be me,” Cyrille said.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Mira snorted, and the Beastfolk shifted uncomfortably.

  “Yinying and I came to a deal,” Cyrille said. “They will be put on retainer as a jockey for Apex Ranch, at a fifty percent discount of the current market price. Rank and skill level included.”

  Namu’s eyes widened. Another contract. No wonder Mira looked so upset. “You made a contract?”

  Mira glared at Cyrille. “Without you. Yes.”

  Cyrille shuffled, his scales gaining a pink tinge.

  “My fault,” Yinying said cheerily. “I came here while you were…resting. I’d only wanted to see my friend’s ranch, but found these two in a troubling conundrum. There was a solution pleasing to all of us, so I jumped. Forgive me, Namu. I get far too excited sometimes, and I know I overstepped.”

  Yinying bowed, one arm around their waist, the other holding their teacup level. Namu regarded the Nightfolk. He hadn’t thought about extra jockeys much. He’d figured he’d had more time before the ranch was big enough to need it, and Yinying’s contract felt a bit too convenient for it to be an accident. Still, it wasn’t like he could nullify it. He’d just have to trust his friends as they did him.

  “It’s all right,” Namu said. “It is a good deal for both of us.” I hope it continues to be, he added silently.

  Yinying straightened with a curt nod. “It truly is. I don’t mind hiring you in a similar capacity if you find you’ve got the time later. In the meantime, my ranch is always open to all of you.”

  “Right,” Namu said. “Uh…thank you.”

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it is time I returned to my ranch.”

  Yinying nodded toward Mira. “I’ll be back tomorrow, just as soon as I have my MaGriffs squared away.”

  Yinying turned on their heel. A portal appeared in front of them as they spun, letting them step through in one fluid motion at odds with their skeletal frame.

  Mira snorted as soon as the portal closed. “Someone thinks they’re important.”

  Namu shrugged. “You should see their tea collection. I’m pretty sure they’re not the only one to think they’re important.”

  “If that’s the case, why were they so gung-ho about becoming our jockey? At a discount, no less. You’d think a loaded Nightfolk would understand the value of money, unless there was something even more valuable on the line.”

  “They’ve already got the breeding contract,” Cyrille said with a grunt. “Knowing your breeding stock firsthand is worth way more than gold.”

  “Nah. Can’t be just that. They can poke around whenever they like and riding a bird you’re only going to use as a stud doesn’t seem worth the money and time they’re taking away from their ranch.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  Namu stayed silent while his friends debated Yinying’s motives. It did seem strange. Almost…humanitarian, like Yinying wanted to help for the sake of helping. Yet Yinying barely knew him. Namu put the conundrum out of his mind and brought up the MaGriff training screen. He’d done enough pointless dwelling. It was time for a decision and action.

  He scanned each training description. While he’d read that training increased all stats, it was clear each had a specialty. The mountain caves emphasized strength and possibly agility; the desert, stamina; and the grasslands, speed. With the memory of faceplanting over a jump still haunting his dreams, Namu almost selected the mountain caves. He’d agreed to focus on speed and agility after all. But he’d also agreed on speed as his primary line’s stat. Besides, Yinying would likely choose caves for strength.

  “I’m signing Bubblegum up for the grasslands,” he said.

  Mira and Cyrille stopped their debate.

  Cyrille nodded. “A good choice.”

  Mira shrugged. “Whatever you think is best.”

  *****

  As the name “Grassland Hills” suggested, little rolling hills stretched as far as the eye could see, the entire ground covered in soft, short, and uniformly green grass. Rebirths and MaGriffs were at nearly every hill in Namu’s sight. Ranch owners shouted commands to their charges or stood back and watched as MaGriffs raced up and down the hills or between the mounds in loops. Some Rebirths stood in clusters, gesturing and laughing as they talked.

  Namu, Cyrille, and Bubblegum had teleported in on an empty hill. The Goddess had been merciful. Namu didn’t care to think how long he would have had to walk to find one not in use otherwise.

  “Popular spot,” he muttered to himself.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Cyrille said.

  As usual, his friend seemed to have read his mind and seen his doubt about his choice. If most owners trained their birds in speed, he’d have a harder time finding an advantage.

  “I think we’re grouped up on purpose,” Cyrille continued. “Considering this is an entirely separate world with new rules and new opportunities, anyone from Myth and Magic with the funds would have jumped at the chance. This looks like a lot of ranches, and it is, but it doesn’t mean the other training grounds are less crowded.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Namu said, although the scent of pine didn’t back him up.

  Bubblegum squawked and stomped in place. The crowds worried him, but they clearly riled her up. It was a good thing Cyrille had a hold of her lead. Namu knew if it had been him, she’d have bolted. The number of times he’d been dragged along, or had the lead yanked from his hand, was a big reason Cyrille wanted him there. Before he could finish the thought, Cyrille handed him the lead. The pine scent intensified.

  “Get a good grip,” Cyrille said as he stepped out of the way. “Stand at her shoulder. Stand tall. If she fidgets, shorten the lead. Not enough to pull her head down, just enough to remind her you’re in control.”

  Namu followed Cyrille’s instructions. Bubblegum went still. She wasn’t looking at him, but he knew she was still sizing him up. She cocked her head, chirped, then lunged.

  “Lean back!”

  Namu’s feet were planted, yet like the tree he was, he tilted forward when Bubblegum yanked at the lead. He couldn’t lean back from his precarious position. His face hit the grass. At least it’s not dirt this time, he thought bitterly.

  A chirp sounded near his head. Bubblegum bumped her beak against his chest as he sat up.

  “Oh?” Namu asked. “Don’t want to run off with all the strangers around, huh?”

  Bubblegum cocked her head.

  Namu sighed, collected her lead, and stood back up while Cyrille watched with unending patience. The Beastfolk wasn’t the only one staring at him.

  “Let’s train,” Namu said, doing his best not to pay attention to who was staring. It wasn’t their fault he looked like an idiot who couldn’t control his own animal.

  Cyrille nodded and listed off the exercises he’d planned. The first one involved letting her off the lead to run and spend some of her wild energy, so once Namu proved he had control of Bubblegum and Bubblegum proved she wasn’t interested in contesting it, he happily unclipped the lead from her halter. She was off in a flash, darting down the hill they stood on and looping around its base with her neck stretched out and her stride at its longest.

  To Namu’s surprise, once she made a loop, she didn’t dart off to a different hill. Instead, she curved around for another go.

  Cyrille crossed his arms, a look of contemplation on his face. “Looks like this is our hill,” he said.

  Ah, so he’d figured there was some sort of barrier keeping Bubblegum in. Namu cast off a scent of lavender. A barrier made his life easier. A little.