Another silence.

“Regardless of how stupid it was, it was very impressive,” Kellyn offers. “I’ve never seen anyone wrestle a wolf like that.”

The compliment startles me, and I have no idea how to respond to it.

“Had I known we were all ignoring the mercenary’s sage advice to stay in our tents, I would have come out to help,” Petrik says, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

“I had my hands full enough keeping these two out of trouble,” Kellyn says. “You should be proud that you’re such a good listener.”

I ignore the men, instead focusing on my brave sister. She was amazing tonight. I was so scared for her, but I realize now that we’re safe, and in spite of everything—“I’m glad you know how to fight.”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes looking to me with something akin to hope.

“I always want you safe. That is more important to me than anything else. I’m sorry I reacted poorly, and in the future”—I let a hint of sternness creep into my voice—“I expect you to tell me things.”

“I promise.”

We ought to be exhausted while traveling the next day, but the attack has made all of us hyperaware of our surroundings. I haven’t been able to calm down from full alertness yet.

Still, I need a distraction from the constant terror of wolf mauling.

“Petrik, what do you know of other magic users in the world today?” I ask, hoping to move the conversation in such a way as to help me figure out what to do with Secret Eater.

Petrik is delighted by the question. “Though I’m sure there are many magic users in the world who keep their abilities a secret, there’s only one other who is widely known like you are: the cotton spinner. While you take the ores from the land and shape them into magicked weapons, she takes the plants of the earth and spins them into illusions.”

I’ve heard stories of cloaks of invisibility and masks of disguise. The merchants and mercenaries who pass through our city bring many exciting tales. I don’t hear them myself, of course. I hear them secondhand from Temra.

What I hadn’t expected was that there were only two of us who advertised our abilities. I thought surely there must be more, even if I hadn’t heard of them before.

“The witch hunts of a century ago really wiped out most of those with magic,” Petrik explains, as though reading my thoughts. “Bloodlines known to carry magic were basically made extinct. Now that magic is no longer outlawed, I hope we’ll begin to see the ability spread.”

I’ve often wondered if that’s who came after Mother and Father. Someone with a violent hatred of magic. But that doesn’t explain why they killed Father.

Or why they left Temra and me alive.

“In all your studies,” I say, “have you ever read about anyone else with an ability like mine? Aside from my mother?”

“I have not, I’m sorry to say. I’ve read about those with control over many of the planet’s natural resources. Clay, plants, water, wood, minerals, animals—even the people themselves.” Petrik grimaces at the last one. “While others before you have used metals and minerals in other ways, you’re the only one I know of to combine magic with forging.