The Ninth Sentinel stands apart from the rest of them, keeping a watchful gaze on the room. Shirene and I used to eat dinners together at Storm’s End along with Rowan and her mother—back then, it was a reprieve from warrior training for Shirene and a glimpse at the future for me. Shirene wasn’t one to talk a lot, but she was always receptive to my questions about her training. Unlike her sister, Shirene fits into the city’s expectations like a key to a lock. I was not surprised when she was chosen as sentinel, and it is reassuring to know someone similar in age to me can make it.

The sentinels call all of the commanders over for a moment. Ox watches Sethran as he goes, then clears his throat.

“Hey, Callen,” he says. His voice is steady, though I can’t shake the feeling that this moment was rehearsed. “I have a feeling you don’t like me very much. And I think I know why.” Gee, I wonder. “But we’re on this team together, and I know you want to save those sick kids as much as I do. Loyalty above all. Out there, we won’t have time for anything else.”

Anything else—like the girl we’d both fight for. I don’t want to hear her name on his lips or think about who he’s spent his last hours with … but he is right. If our team is to succeed and find the cure, it means working with—and not against—each other.

Rowan has to stay here, both in heart and in person.

“Loyalty above all,” I reply, offering my hand. “The mission comes first.”

He takes it. “Thank you, Callen.”

“Skies alive, you two are making me look bad,” Exin cuts in as he walks over. He claps a hand on my shoulder. “We had until eleventh bell, didn’t we?”

The four of us have all leaned into our strengths: Exin’s brought his broadsword, which I know he favors. With Ox’s bow, Sethran’s longsword, my axe, and all of us with shields and secondary weapons to rely on in a pinch, we’re a well-balanced team. We can do this.

Our commander returns with waterskins and small satchels for each of us. The shiny buckles on each are imprinted with special markings that told me these were no ordinary bags. These had been crafted with magic in mind, and would transform to suit our lion forms as our armor and uniforms did. The type was hard to come by, unless you were a healer or messenger. The Sentinels are giving us the best of the best.

Inside, dried meat and fruit are packed in expertly alongside herbs for pain and wound care. “Remember, the sentinels say even a small amount of the cure will do,” he says. “‘A petal a year, a stem a season.’ A six-year-old would only need six petals.”