Once they did, Gravaldor’s gaze dropped onto Soren, sleeping and defenseless, at his feet.

Gravaldor lifted his paw, his claws extended.

Barclay squeezed his eyes shut. He expected a terrible thud, or a tear, or whatever sound was made when one monster ended another.

Instead, for several moments there was silence.

“Barclay,” Viola hissed, and he opened his eyes.

Gravaldor had placed a single claw against Soren’s body. The fur and scales on Soren had begun to recede back into his skin. The black Marks of his Beasts faded to gold and then to nothing at all. While Soren continued to sleep, his Beasts began to appear beside him. They abandoned their Keeper and scattered off into the trees.

“He removed all of Soren’s Marks,” Barclay said, gaping.

“Not sure that’s punishment enough,” Tadg grumbled, but his expression was smug.

When Gravaldor finished, his gaze fell on the three of them. His eyes, once full of wilds and rage, now looked calm.

Barclay wasn’t sure what made him step forward. Maybe it was the wilds in him answering Gravaldor’s call. Maybe it was awe, the way it felt to look directly into the eye of a storm.

I was right, he thought. He could remove my Mark.

Root followed him, his head low and mournful, as though he sensed what was about to happen.

Barclay opened his mouth to speak to Gravaldor, to make his request. But no words came out. It wasn’t like when the Ischray stole his voice from his throat, but rather like he didn’t have the words in him. All those reasons he had hated Gravaldor and the Woods and Lore Keepers no longer mattered to him.

Barclay had wanted to remain in Dullshire so that he could follow the life he thought his parents had wanted for him. But he couldn’t help but think that his parents would be disappointed in him if he went back, when he had found the place where he truly belonged.

He’d be disappointed in himself too.

And so Barclay crouched down and pressed his forehead against his Root’s, watching his expression with his matching black eyes. They matched in so many ways. Both stubborn. Both teasing. Both wild. Now that Barclay could stop blaming Lore Keepers for what happened to his parents, there was no reason to stop him from becoming one too.

“I never belonged there,” Barclay told Root. “You knew that before I did.”

Seeming to understand, Root’s ears pricked up happily.

“Will you forgive me?” Barclay asked.

Root wagged his tail and licked Barclay’s cheek, which Barclay took to mean yes.

Smiling, Barclay turned around to Viola and Tadg.

Tadg pushed Viola forward. “I thought you had a request.”

“I don’t! I… I’d already made up my mind, and I’m not changing it. I don’t need Gravaldor to become a great Lore Keeper.” She looked toward Barclay. Her clothes were dirty and wrinkled, and one of her hair ties had snapped, leaving a single lopsided poof with an indent in her curls. She smiled, and he nodded. They had made the same decision: to become great Lore Keepers together.