Barclay felt the answer was obvious—for wrongs done to one another. But something about Runa’s expression made him think she was joking and that they wouldn’t be getting the real answer.

“I just wanted to say…,” Runa said, suddenly turning serious. “As you all know, I work as a Guardian Lore Keeper. I take jobs for the benefit and protection of those who are vulnerable to Beasts—whether or not they ever thank me for it. It’s a dangerous but rewarding job. And as a Guardian, I could not be prouder that the three of you accomplished what you did at Midwinter.”

The three of them flushed.

“I-it was the right thing to do,” Barclay stammered.

“That’s right. And as someone who comes from a place so different from ours, our way of life must look strange to you. But should Dullshire learn what you’ve done for them, I think they would be thankful for you and your Beast. After all, they have more than their skunk charms and prickly walls to protect them. They have people like you.”

Barclay liked the sound of that very much.

She turned to Tadg. “Your father was reckless and made a lot of mistakes, but he would have been proud of you. I know he would.”

Tadg took a very long sip of cider.

“And you,” she said to Viola. “Your father and I don’t get along anymore. But you already know that, don’t you?”

Viola nodded.

“Either way, it is still an honor to work with you, especially when you managed to teach this one—” She nodded at Barclay. “So much so quickly. I’ve never had apprentices before, and I admit I’m a bit worried you’d be a better Master than I would.”

“I—I…” Viola fidgeted. “I doubt that.”

“And that leaves you,” Runa turned once more to Barclay. “You know, I never expected you to work so hard and make it so far in the Exhibition. Are you naturally gifted at everything, or have you always had to rise to the occasion, because there was no alternative for you if you didn’t?”

Barclay flushed. “I’ve, well, I’ve been an orphan most of my life. I’ve learned to do a lot of things. And I’m not good at everything. I break rules all—”

“Not naturally gifted at everything, it seems. You’re a terrible liar.” She sighed. “The first thing I’ll teach all of you to do is take a compliment. You don’t need to start covering yourself in medals of honor and flaunting them about, like our oh-so-dear Horn of Dawn, but you’re allowed to be proud of yourselves when you’ve done well. You’re all extraordinary.”

Viola caught his eye and beamed at him. Tadg, who was now only half as sullen as usual, cast him a look almost like a truce. Barclay realized he’d done the thing he’d always dreamed of—he’d found a place where he belonged, and people he belonged with. Who appreciated him exactly as he was.

Runa waved down the innkeeper and asked for another pitcher of pear cider. When it arrived, the four of them refilled their drinks, and Runa offered up a toast.