She demonstrated the movement, her body flowing like liquid, light on her feet but always controlled. The group watched her, wide-eyed, before attempting to imitate. Taren dropped into a crouch first, wobbling with each step, and eventually fell sideways with a thud. Elara gave it a shot, next, managing a few steps before her foot slipped, sending her sprawling. Bran, meanwhile, was as awkward as it came, but effort made up for natural elegance.
Rynna smiled encouragingly as they all got back up and repeatedly tried again. “Keep your movements stable! Control comes from your center.”
And slowly but surely, they began to improve.
They really are quite gifted,she thought, watching Taren, his brow furrowed in concentration as he managed a few fluid steps while Elara’s balance steadied. Even Bran got a few steps without falling…or screaming in excitement.
“Better!” Rynna beamed as Taren returned Bran’s brief high-five with a rare grin of triumph.
“Let’s get that cat!” Elara squealed, excitement building again.
The cat, still perched high in the tree, meowed disdainfully, licking its paw, looking bored.
Rynna stuck her tongue out at the beast and then asked, “So, what’s our strategy? He’s clever.”
“We have to box him in,” Taren said.
“Someplace he can’t climb away,” Bran added, clapping his hands.
“But we can’t hurt him,” Elara reminded them.
It went on like that for nearly ten minutes as the newly energized team put their heads together, forming a plan. Three attempts later and another hour of carefully watching the cat’s movements, tracking its unpredictable leaps and lightning-fast dashes, and they finally managed to corral the cunning creature into the box. Exhausted but victorious, they exchanged relieved smiles, ready to bring their prize home.
After a short walk, they arrived at the modest wooden structure with round windows and a sloping thatched roof. Their client, an overjoyed older man, immediately rushed out of his home, his face lighting up the moment he saw the cat. Scooping the big tabby into his arms, he hugged the feline tightly against his chest, hands scratching behind his ears. And as the feline began to purr, he looked up, then bowed in gratitude before releasing the pet.
“Thank you so much for finding my Little Bird.” He gushed, pouring an enormous bowl of milk for the cat. “He must have been so scared, all alone out there.”
“Scared?!” Bran blurted out, only to be silenced by Elara, who clamped her hand over his mouth before he could say more.
“We’re just glad we could help,” she said quickly, smiling politely.
“It was a good learning experience for the Novices. Thank you for the opportunity,” Guide Fenn added with a formal bow.
When they finally extracted themselves from the man’s endless gratitude, Bran was already moaning, loud enough for everyone to hear. “That was so boring! When are we gonna get a real mission?”
“I’ll tell you what, how about we discuss it over stew and meat pies? My treat,” Guide Fenn said.
“What?!” Bran yelled, eyes wide with excitement. “AMAZING! I’m gonna get chicken AND venison with extra pottage, bread AND honey, plus a bowel of spiced nuts! Oh, and one of Momma D’s burnt fish! And maybe—”
“You sure about this, Guide Fenn?” Elara raised an eyebrow, glancing at Bran as his list of food grew longer.
Fenn’s usually calm exterior faltered for a second as he listened to Bran’s endless order. “It looks like I might need an advance on our next assignment just to pay for it,” he said with a nervous laugh. Then, he added, “Okay, new rule. Everyone only gets one order.”
The boys groaned in unison.
“Except for whoever gets there first and saves our table.”
It was as if he’d waved a magic wand. One moment, the three Novices were standing there, and the next, they’d vanished, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake as they sprinted down the street, tripping each other and jostling for the lead.
Rynna coughed, waving the dirt away from her face.
And as the dust settled, Fenn glanced down at her. “Not going to race them to the tavern?”
“Huh?” She looked up, surprised to find they were alone for the first time since he’d interrupted her cloud counting. “Oh, no. One meal is fine. I have leftovers at home anyway.”
“Hmmm.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking down the street beside her. “You know...you’re really good with them.”
“I’m sorry?” She stepped up to catch his pace, falling in line beside him. “Are you actually talking to me now? And giving me a compliment, at that?”
