Behind us — not on the team but present, because some departures required witnesses — the rest of the family.
Ren. Notebook open. Already documenting the departure with the particular thoroughness of a scholar who intended to write the definitive account of whatever happened next. He wouldn't be in Thornhaven — the tournament was for combatants, and Ren's combat rank remained resolutely bottom-ten-percent. But his research would travel with us in the form of twelve notebooks containing every scrap of intelligence, strategy, and historical analysis that the team might need.
"I've organized the notebooks by scenario," he said, handing me a bag that weighed approximately fifteen pounds. "Notebook One: tournament combat strategies. Notebook Two: political landscape of Thornhaven. Notebook Three: historical precedents for inter-academy competitions. Notebook Four through Twelve: everything else."
"Everything else?"
"The category was larger than anticipated."
