The new Tributes trained daily, learning to channel the Manna that coursed through their blood and coax it beyond the boundaries of their bodies. Faelynn was the quickest to grasp the basics, but the others soon followed—some more elegantly than others.
In the hours between practice, Noelis and Alarie often wandered the low hills that surrounded the camp. But the mountains loomed above them, tempting in their stark beauty, and after nearly a week they decided to request permission to explore further. They cornered Fabien early one morning, just as he rose. They'd need his permission now that he was First in Command.
His response was immediate and unequivocal.
"No."
It was too risky, he said, and he and Emon would not be around to accompany them —they were heading up to inspect the Shield.
"Perfect, we'll go with you," Alarie said.
"This isn't a field trip," Fabien replied. "The part of the Shield we need to reach sits deep in the mountains. The hike is far from easy."
Alarie scoffed, folding her arms. "I was born in the heaths of the Fjords. I was climbing cliffs and foraging forests as soon as I could walk. I could probably outpace most of your men."
They had all heard the reputation of the Fjord tribes. None doubted her.
Noelis, however...
Before Fabien could use her as an excuse, Noelis blurted, "I'm from a mountainous region too. My cousin and I practically lived in the forests before I entered the Academy."
She had shared one small, reluctant truth about herself — one she normally kept buried.
"Even the existing two Tributes haven't been up there," came a new voice. "They tired halfway and had to be brought down."
Thorsten Rochelle, the former Commander in chief, entered the tent. His tone was clipped, condescending. Fabien's jaw tightened. He had met the man once on the battlefield—a decent enough soldier, but prideful, bitter, and misogynistic. A man who clearly did not appreciate being demoted beneath two younger officers.
Well, life dealt him the lot of a commoner, and it was hardly my choice to be born royal. He can be bitter and complain to the Celestials as much as he wants but nothing will change as a result.
"Aren't you forgetting," Noelis said, levelling her gaze at Thorsten, "that eventually you'll need to get us Tributes up the mountains if the source of the problem is there? I understand your concerns, but at worst we'll slow you down. We won't give up partway. Taking Alarie and me would be a good test run."
Thorsten held her stare, eyes roving over her face and—briefly—lower. Bold girl. Cute. Pleasant company, perhaps.
Fabien watched the exchange, and when he saw the roving of Thorsten's gaze, something sharp flared beneath his ribs. As a fellow male he understood the instinct, but he didn't like how he looked at Noelis. Another reason to say no.
He opened his mouth to refuse, but Emon spoke first.
"She has a point. If the trek takes longer than planned, we can camp overnight. If that's acceptable to you ladies."
Alarie and Noelis exchanged a quick glance and nodded.
Fabien sighed, running a hand through his hair. He would simply have to keep an eye on her.
"We leave in one hour. If you're not ready, we're going without you."
***
The group heading towards the Shield was small: Thorsten and two of his men, Fabien, Emon, and the two Tributes, who had quickly layered themselves for the hike and potential cold that waited at the top.
The trek was every bit as grueling as Fabien had warned. Noelis struggled the most, though she pushed herself without complaint. Fabien ordered Emon to stay at the back so he could help her whenever she faltered—an order Emon accepted wordlessly.
Noelis had hardly spoken throughout the hike up. Emon assumed her quietness came from exhaustion. But in truth, her thoughts were elsewhere.
She was thinking of the friend in her head, the Voice. Baldrick who had not spoken to her since she told him to get out of her head during the Heat with Elarion. With everything that had happened, Noelis hadn't had time to dwell on it at first. But during the silent stretches of the journey to the camp, she had tried calling out to him. Since the Heat she was able to use the Voice in her head whenever she wanted, not just when she was asleep.
At first she hesitated, mortified at the thought of what he might have heard. Her memory of the Heat was hazy, blurred at the edges. Perhaps he had heard nothing. Perhaps everything.
Eventually she gathered her courage and tried speaking to him again.
Nothing.
Not a whisper.
The landscape they passed through was breathtaking — wild and vast and ancient. Ardenne was the pinnacle of elegance and civilisation, but this place... this was nature in its rawest glory. Light danced in streams and rivers; leaves shimmered in the breeze; graceful deer and majestic stags greeted them as they ascended. For a moment she forgot her exhaustion. She wanted to share it — with him.
"Hey, Bald. I'm on a little adventure and it's really something. I'll give you the whole story tomorrow, so stop sulking and let's start again."
Still no answer. But she felt, somehow, that he was listening.
They reached the Shield at dusk, but there wasn't enough light left to examine it, so they made camp near a copse of trees and lit a fire. Strangely, it was warm up here — warmer than down in the valleys.
"The Shield preserves ambient energy," Thorsten said, stripping off his outer layers. "Heat stays trapped near the top."
Everyone was sweating. Alarie removed her jacket and woollen vest, left in only a thin tunic and trousers. Noelis hesitated, then followed suit.
"There's a small lake down the track over there," Thorsten added. "Good place to rinse off. Ladies first."
He studied the two Tributes openly. He had to give it to them, unlike the previous Tributes, they had made it without complaint — Noelis had slowed them down, but far less than he'd predicted. Sweat clung to her neck, and her tunic was plastered to her wet back outlining her body. He swallowed hard.
He wasn't as handsome as Fabien, but he had never lacked female company. There had been women amongst the previous round of Tributes — right up until the day they vanished. He grimaced briefly remembering the body he had found at the base of a waterfall that day. Of the remaining two, Prisilla and Krissie, he had only been with Krissie, but that was long before the Tributes' disappearance. Indeed, it had been a while.
He tore his mind away and turned to Fabien, who wore a dark expression. A young royal, now ranking above him, and there seemed to be something between him and that attractive Tribute.
Thorsten's voice turned brisk and official as he explained the Shield's condition: the widening crack, the slit from which Dark Creatures had emerged.
Meanwhile Alarie and Noelis found the lake, washed, and returned in time for dinner.
***
The men erected a large tarp and laid down some thick fabric on the ground. They would all sleep together beneath it.
Fabien shot Noelis an apologetic glance. Coming from the same Academy as him, she must have had a privileged background. She wouldn't be used to sleeping on a bare floor in the open wild.
Before he could speak, she said, "It's been a while since I've slept on the floor like this."
Alarie and the men looked at her in surprise. She wasn't exactly lying — she had camped in the forests of Valemorde with Lys, though never overnight.
They arranged themselves: Emon at one end, then Alarie, then Noelis, followed by Fabien, with Thorsten and his men on the other side. His men would take turns keeping watch.
It was hardly proper for her to lie beside a man she wasn't bonded to, but propriety mattered little in the face of safety.
Fabien felt uneasy. He didn't see Noelis in that way—they were friends—but he was still a man, and they were lying very close. The tarp barely covered them so their bodies were packed together like sardines. He doubted he would sleep, though exhaustion dragged at him. It had been a long time since he'd had companionship and with that thought he drifted off.
He woke to find himself spooning her.
Her hair brushed his face, soft strands tickling his nose and throat. The curve of her hips pressed lightly against him. His body reacted before his mind fully woke, heat flooding through him. Without thinking his hands slipped around her slim waist. Her body was feminine and more curved than it looked. His fingers slid lower—across her lower belly and then.
He stopped as he sensed her body tense. She was awake.
Shock jolted through him. He forced himself to calm and pulled his hands away—only to bump into the solid back of the soldier sleeping on his other side.
He should apologise. Explain. But when he turned, the space was empty. She was gone.