In time, I grow accustomed to joining the children at the Haven, as they call it.

  Each morning, while the hunters are out, we cycle through games of Denet’s choosing. And Raimi no longer has to challenge the rules alone. Though I’m not as direct as Raimi can be, Denet will accept my ideas every so often. I enjoy this new freedom of expression.

  What I don’t enjoy is Taren. The older boy arrives every afternoon, when hunting’s nearly finished for the day. And no matter how hard I try to escape our play before his arrival, he seems to know when I’m ready to leave. It feels as though I’m hunted by him.

  He calls for the children, bickers with Denet until the younger boy complies, then gives me a hard look before retreating with the other two in tow. I like him no less than he despises me.

  During the third week of my daily visits to the Haven, Raimi brings something with her: an old bow, made of sleek, golden yew.

  Weapon: [Hunter's Bow] – Keen (+7 Ranged Attack)

  “My father’s old bow,” Raimi says, then beams as we praise it. Denet has seen it before, but he acts as though it’s novel to him as well. He layers on the praise. On her father. On her. On anything the bow touches.

  “We should take turns shooting it,” Denet says.

  Raimi shakes her head. “We don’t have any [Skills] to shoot it right.” She holds the bow out to me. “I was hoping you could show us.”

  I’m surprised.

  Raimi continues, “Father Edrine says that each [Skill] is unique in its own way, even amongst hunters. I wanted to see what hunter [Skills] you have, if you don’t mind.”

  I step back, uncertain. Nothing about my [Skills] belongs with these villagers.

  Raimi frowns. “I thought…I mean, I don’t mean to pry. Sorry.”

  Denet doesn’t mind prying. “What kind of [Skills] do you got anyhow?”

  “Nothing. Nothing interesting.”

  “You gotta have something. Everyone gets a [Skill].”

  Raimi nods. “That’s how we know we’re watched over by Mother Life.”

  “So what you got?” Denet asks.

  “I…prefer not to say. It isn’t something that helps me with a bow though.”

  Raimi looks disappointed. “I guess if you came from a different village…most people in our village get hunter or farmer [Skills], though mother says that the women have more refined [Skills] than the boys.”

  “That’s not true,” Denet says. “Taren can catch a fly. That’s what I heard.”

  “He’s just exaggerating.”

  “Is not.”

  Raimi doesn’t continue the argument. Instead. She puts the single arrow she brought back in a pack she wears on her back.

  Denet groans. “Don’t put it away, Rai. I wanna shoot it.”

  It’s while Raimi considers this that I see the faint glow on the bowstring. With [Detect Decay] activated, I can feel the pulsing from the edges of it. It’s too small to see the glow much, but the pulses are strong. The string is frayed.

  Raimi holds out the bow to Denet, unable to resist his pleading.

  I put my hand on top of the bow. “The bow’s old. Maybe we should do something else. What if it breaks?”

  Raimi seems offended. “My father took good care of this bow. He’s going to pass it on to me when I gain my first [Skill]. It won’t break.”

  “But the string—”

  Raimi strums the bowstring and I flinch, but nothing happens.

  Denet snatches the bow and arrow.

  I need to think fast.

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  “I have an excellent game, Denet.”

  The boy pauses.

  “Tree climbing race.”

  Denet considers, then looks at the bow, then back at me. He grins and tosses the bow to Raimi, who fumbles it before setting it down with care.

  Denet sprints off like a flash of lightning. Raimi trails after him. I join in the run, intent on showing them a good time until Taren arrives. For once, I want the young hunter to show up early. Hopefully Raimi won’t bring the bow again.

  We each pick a tree and declare the winning height. My [Detect Decay] doesn’t pulse so heavily on these trees, so I focus on the race.

  Raimi’s the most talented climber. Denet’s the most daring. I am strategic.

  Though I’m the slowest of the group, Denet still wants me to start further from the tree each time. Raimi cannot be beaten.

  We exhaust ourselves, each pushing through our stamina. The grass beneath the trees is soft and comforting.

  Once we’ve rested. Denet bolts up and says it's time for the bow again. I groan and sit up as the boy rushes back to Raimi’s pack. There’s no dissuading him this time. No imaginary castles or river racing now. I even offer to play as the evil wizard. This causes him to hesitate, but nothing more. I believe he’s recognized my intent to prevent him from using the bow.

  “We’ll all take turns,” he says. “And we’ll see who can shoot the farthest.”

  He pulls the string back, and I clench my fists, but the bowstring holds.

  The arrow fares worse, though. When he releases, it goes wild. Instead of frustration, though, he laughs. “That was far, right?” Then he looks at me and pulls back the string again. “See, I’m fine.”

  Denet runs off to collect the single arrow while Raimi practices her stance. Once the arrow returns, she pulls back and sends a graceful shot straight out and into the trunk of a tree.

  “We each get three tries,” Denet says quickly, then runs off to get the arrow.

  When he returns, I refuse to play. Denet whines at me and Raimi looks at me pleadingly, but I can be stubborn too. I tell them it isn’t safe to play with the bow.

  Denet decides he doesn’t care and tries to copy the stance he saw Raimi take. This time he pulls the bowstring as far back as his little arms can manage.

  And then it snaps.

  A sound, like the crack of a whip, clears the air. It’s followed by a shrill cry. Denet bends over his arm. A long slice bubbles with blood.

  All of his confidence evaporates, and he screams like he’s being murdered. He covers the wound with his other hand, which coats in blood at once.

  Raimi gasps and then hyperventilates, moving from side to side of Denet, muttering about something her mother taught her once.

  I lean over, closer, uncertain of how they would react to [Leech Grip]. How it might work on a person rather than a deer. I feel the urge to tell the children I told them the bow was dangerous, but it was my own fear of revealing my [Skills] that led to this disaster.

  There’s a bellow of anger from above, which cuts off Denet’s cries for a moment.

  Taren stands at the top of the rise, hard eyes filled with rage. He charges down the hill, shouting words I cannot make out.

  I fall over when he pushes up beside Denet.

  “What have you done to him?” he says, not looking at me.

  “Nothing.”

  “I knew you were dangerous,” Taren says. He rubs Denet’s hair and gives a long and soothing shush. Then he turns a glare on me. “What did you do?”

  “H-he didn’t do anything,” Raimi blubbers. “It’s my fault. The bow—the bowstring broke.”

  “And he asked you to show him the bow?”

  “No! I just thought. Oh, Denet, I’m so sorry.”

  While on my back, I can see the blood seeping through Denet’s hand and soaking the grass. So much blood.

  I dig my fingers through the grass while Taren interrogates Raimi. He keeps questioning what I’m doing there. Who I am. He seems concerned for Denet, but he doesn’t realize the danger the boy is in with so much blood loss.

  My fingers find a root in the dirt. From the tree behind me.

  I reach out my free hand towards Denet.

  Taren pushes it away. “You’ve done enough, stranger.”

  “His name is Sevorn.” Raimi regains some confidence, but still sounds shaken.

  Denet continues to holler between Taren’s soothing words and sounds.

  “I can help,” I say.

  Taren shakes his head. “I need to take him to the village. Maybe Father Edrine—”

  With frustration, I lash out at Taren, surprising him. He falls back, away from Denet.

  Before the hunter boy can react, I reach out my other hand and touch Denet.

  [Leech Grip] fills me with the tree’s vitality through the hidden root. It fills me up, clears up my fatigue, then boils over, ready to burst.

  Taren reaches for my hand.

  I push the excess vitality into Denet.

  The boy gasps.

  Taren grips my hand and pulls, but I resist. I need to finish.

  When I don’t budge, Taren kicks me over, breaking my contact with Denet.

  “Don’t you touch him, you—” Taren stops, because Denet has stopped wailing.

  The younger boy sniffles, but his paling complexion has reversed.

  Taren reaches over and pulls off Denet’s other hand, the one that covered the wound.

  Blood covers his arm, but his skin has sealed. My effort is enough. I feel a deep sense of relief.

  Taren turns to me, dumbstruck. “You…you…you’re a healer?”

  “Don’t tell anyone what you saw, please,” I respond. I can feel the ashy root under my other hand. The others might not notice it, but I sense the decay of the tree behind me. It is weaker than before.

  Taren’s still confused. “I…of course.” He looks at Raimi, then Denet. “But how are you going to keep these two quiet?”