“Because I didn’t pick him—my father did. That’s why I can’t find another Lore Keeper Master. I need to convince Cyril he made a mistake. I’m the daughter of the Grand Keeper. Failure isn’t an option. Not in my family.”

Barclay didn’t pretend to be an expert on family, but Master Pilzmann was the closest thing to a father he’d ever had, and he couldn’t imagine Master Pilzmann being so cruel. And Viola might not have been entered in the Exhibition, but Barclay knew she was one of the most exceptional students in Sycomore, Tadg included. How could anyone think she wasn’t enough?

“My father has three Mythic class Beasts. He’s the most powerful Lore Keeper in the world. Nothing I’ve done has ever measured up, and I thought bonding with a Legendary Beast was the only thing to convince him that I was enough.”

“The way I see it,” Tadg said behind them, making both of them jolt and turn around. Barclay spilled his armful of mushrooms. “If a person or a town is willing to cast you out, then maybe they don’t deserve to have you come back.”

Barclay bent down to pick up his dinner and stow it—this time—in his satchel. “How long have you been standing there?” he grumbled.

“Long enough,” Tadg answered.

Tadg might not have been Soren’s apprentice, but that didn’t mean he’d ever been nice to Barclay. In fact, Tadg could have saved everyone a lot of confusion and trouble last night had he only explained the truth to Barclay without insulting him every other word.

“That’s big of you to say,” Barclay said gruffly.

Tadg sighed and held out his hand. “Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. That day in the park, I saw the message Soren left Ethel on her notebook, and I thought all of you were working for him, up until after the practical when Soren attacked you. Who do you think stole Abel’s Hasifuss and put it in your bag?”

Barclay eyed Tadg’s hand warily. He’d seen Tadg once convince Ethel into shaking it only to trick her with Lore.

“That was you?” He did remember Tadg gathering the fallen items out of Barclay’s bag. That must have been when he added in the Hasifuss.

“I wanted to get back at him for calling me fish food. And I would’ve explained myself better, but I didn’t want you telling Abel and Ethel by mistake and for Soren to know I was coming after him.”

Barclay supposed that made sense. He reluctantly shook Tadg’s hand, as did Viola.

Tadg looked down into Barclay’s satchel. “What is that? Is that for dinner?”

“They’re mushrooms.”

Tadg frowned. “Mushrooms taste like dirt.” Then he turned and started back toward camp.

Barclay shot an annoyed look at Viola. “I still don’t like him.”

He bent down to tickle several Stoolip tops—he wasn’t foraging just for food. It wasn’t like he’d be getting any sleep tonight naturally, being near the heart of the Woods the night before Midwinter. He stuffed several into his bag.