“Soren Reiker is the one who murdered my father, not Runa,” Tadg snapped. “He tricked you into moving the Exhibition early so that the other Masters would be preoccupied while he tried to bond with Gravaldor. Runa is innocent, and I demand you release her at once.”

“B-but what about the notebook? Conley’s notebook?” Erhart asked.

Tadg shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice was tight. “My father always kept his notebooks on him, which means his real journal is probably at the bottom of the Sea. Whatever Soren gave you is a fake.”

While the High Keeper was too stunned to say anything, Cyril narrowed his eyes at Viola coolly. “I heard you’d come here. Is it true you faced the Legendary Beast of the Woods?”

Viola lifted her chin higher. “It is.”

“I would expect nothing less of my apprentice,” he told her.

Viola stiffened. “I’m not your apprentice. I’m Runa Rasgar’s.”

Cyril’s face contorted with a mixture of shock and disgust. “You must be joking. If you knew what Runa had done, then you—”

“I know you both hate each other more than anyone else in the world. And that’s why I think she’s the right Master for me.” Viola glanced nervously at Tadg and Barclay. “I didn’t deserve for you to send me away. And you don’t deserve for me to come back.”

Cyril’s gaze swept over Tadg and fell on Barclay’s disheveled hair and dirty clothes.

“And who are you?” Cyril growled at Barclay.

“I’m also Runa’s apprentice,” he answered. It wasn’t the same as being Master Pilzmann’s apprentice, but it was better, because he didn’t want to be like the rest of Dullshire. He wanted to be like himself.

“We all are,” Tadg added. “So will you release her or not?”

Erhart’s face reddened. He looked like he wanted to argue more, but many in the room had begun to stare. “Fine. On my authority, Runa Rasgar is released, as she has broken no laws.” Then he scrunched his face and sighed. “And also from this moment forth, the laws in Sycomore will be reinstated and enforced, so that Soren or someone like him won’t be able to take advantage of people again. There will be a trial, and he can answer for his crimes.”

Twenty minutes later Runa Rasgar and her three apprentices sat together at a table in the Ironwood Inn, sharing a pitcher of pear cider, and she told the story of what had happened in their absence.

“Cyril couldn’t wait to come here and testify on the flaws in my character,” she said. “Of course, he wasn’t there when it happened. I wasn’t either. I’d been at the shore when Soren led Conley—and almost you too, Tadg—to his death. And Cyril was in the Mountains! Because we make certain to never be in the same place at the same time, you see.”

“Why do you and Cyril hate each other so much?” Viola asked her.

Runa gave a very fake, pleasant smile. “Why do any two people hate each other?”