“I’ll be happy,” she promised. She kept her tone as light as she could, trying to cheer him up. He seemed so certain that she was going to be miserable. It was hard not to let that worry her. “I get to ride on a river ship!”

She thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch into an almost smile. “You have a joyful spirit, my little minnow. You remember that. The other lightning guardians might look like they spark bright, but you sparkle inside, where it counts.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, though it was very nice.

«Was it something you ate?» Pixit asked curiously.

Was what?

«Is that why your insides are sparkly?»

Reaching back, she scratched Pixit behind his ears. He flopped sideways so she could reach his neck better. The cart continued to roll forward, and they rode in silence. Behind them, she could no longer see their farm—​it was hidden by the gently rolling hills. On either side of the road grew waist-high wheat. As their horses clopped by, startled birds burst out of the grass and, squawking, fled to the sky. She watched them until they settled in another part of the field, vanishing from view.

Mina felt a bit like those birds—​Pixit’s birth had roused her from where she’d hidden, in the safe, warm shelter of home, and now she was in the air, wondering where she’d land and hoping it would be as wonderful as she dreamed. She touched the ship tickets in her pocket, reassuring herself that they were still there, still real.

We’re really going! All her dreams about going on adventures and seeing the world and doing great things and righting wrongs . . . It was all finally beginning!

They traveled for half the day, until the great raised rivers were visible. Aqueducts built on vast stone arches, the rivers were wide and deep enough for ships with triple masts and billowing sails to travel along them. For the first half of every week, the rain guardians led water down from the mountain lakes, through the farmlands and orchards, and to the sea, while the wind guardians filled the ships’ sails. For the second half of each week, the rivers flowed salty, away from the sea.

Today the rivers were salty.

She’d sail northwest, first toward the capital city, then on to the barren lands. And the lightning school—​Mytris!

She felt a bit of nervousness curl inside her, and she wasn’t sure if it was her emotion or Pixit’s. It had a taste: like stale bread that crumbled in your mouth, inedible.

“Have you ever sailed the rivers, Papa?” Mina asked. The rain-guardian training school was in the farmlands—​he would have taken the roads, rather than the rivers, when he was her age.