I make my hands busy with my tent bag, pulling out poles and canvas, but I can’t keep my eyes off the Bonded recruits.
They’re taller than the rest of us, for the most part—I normally tower over most other women but they all have at least an inch or two on me. Their clothes are more colorful than ours, many dyed in jewel tones deeper than I’ve seen on any fabric in the city.
Two of the women look like mirror images of each other—they must be twins. They have luminous golden brown skin and large, dark eyes. Their only difference is their glossy black hair—one wears hers in a plait down her back, while the other sports a chic bob. I watch as they flash hand signals back and forth between them, faces expressive. They’re communicating entirely with their hands, I realize.
A few others gather around one of the fires, joking and jostling each other, and I realize someone is cooking for them—they’ve broughtservantswith them.
One of the men at the fire turns to look at us, and catches sight of me watching. His expression turns ugly, leering. It isn’t hard to guess what he thinks of us, the common-born recruits.
A big part of me wants to walk over there, pick a fight. But I know I’ll need all my energy for the task tomorrow.
I force myself to look away.
Alessandra calls my name. “This spot looks good, don’t you think?”
It’s flat enough, at least, and partially sheltered from the snow by a thick cover of branches above.
“See how the ground is a little higher here?” Alessandra points. “It should help keep us dry—or drier, at any rate. If the snow turns to rain, it should run off, instead of pooling around our tents.”
“Good thinking,” I agree, and we struggle to put our tents up, starting with hers.
Once it’s up, Alessandra holds a hand out toward me when I grab for mine. “Wait,” she says sharply, and then walks around to the side of the tent, cocking her head.
“I think… it looks like both of us could fit in mine.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her, amused.
“Not like that!” Alessandra’s face turns a deep red, but she keeps talking. “I just mean, it’s already so cold, and the sun isonly just going down. It’s going to be freezing tonight. Both our bodies together will produce more body heat for the tent to trap inside. I just think we might be better off,” she finishes weakly.
“No, you’re right,” I say. Alessandra isn’t strong like me, but she’s smart, I’m realizing.
As good an ally as any.
After checking each of the tent pegs one last time to make sure everything is secure, Alessandra and I toss our sleeping bundles inside, then head toward a cookfire that a few of the other common-born recruits have built.
When they see us they wave for us to join them, and Alessandra sits eagerly, but I stay standing another moment, studying their faces.
A lean, younger man—boy, really, there’s barely a hint of beard around his jaw. A strong-looking woman with a head full of braids. As I turn my gaze to the third, he stands as well, then crosses to my side of the fire, extending a hand.
“I’m Henrey.” He’s in his mid-twenties with close-cropped light brown hair and serious blue eyes, and he seems thickly muscular underneath his winter clothes. His voice and stance exude confidence.
“Meryn,” I say, shaking his hand, “and this is Alessandra. How are you all feeling about this?”
“Excited,” Henrey quickly responds, his eyes bright, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Alessandra and I exchange perplexed glances as she takes a seat.
“Did I hear you wrong?” I ask, glancing around at the others huddled around the fire—do they also think this guy sounds unhinged? “Or are you legitimately thrilled to be gambling your life on a climb up a steep and nearly unsurvivable mountain?”
“I’ve been training for this since I was a kid,” he says seriously. “I’m going to become one of the Bonded.”
“This guy is crazy,” I say to Alessandra, dropping down beside her. I almost moan, it feels so good to get off my feet.
“Tell her what you said to us, Henrey,” says the woman with the braids. “About the paths.”
“The recruits from Bonded families will be headed straight up the mountain, racing each other to the top. Killing each other off, even. There are a limited number of wolves and plenty of would-be riders who want to bond. The wolves choose their riders from the group that makes it up first.”
His eyes flash back to me.
