Suddenly Viola yelped. Orla stood behind her, patting Viola on the shoulder. Barclay shrunk down in his seat, as he did whenever Orla was around lately.

“Go easy on the Murdock boy,” Orla told them. “It’s hard for him, being home. Conley is still very missed.”

The table fell silent, and Barclay felt a pinch of guilt for what he’d said about Tadg. Missing runs with Root was nothing in comparison to missing a father.

“How are your hands, Shazi? Barclay?” Orla asked.

Barclay stiffened beneath Orla’s scrutiny. He’d told himself that he’d imagined the way she’d singled him out the night the Brutopods attacked, as though he was to blame for much of the destruction in Munsey. But there was still something especially piercing in her stare.

“They’re better,” Shazi said, holding up her palms. Thanks to a combination of Gunkwort and Edwyn’s healing Lore, neither she nor Barclay had any scars.

Orla smiled, but not so wide as usual. “That’s good to hear.” And then, slowly, she made her way to her rocking chair. Even in a room crammed full of Guardians, she looked lonely without Murph beside her, warming himself in front of the fire.

“I’d like you to spar with one another,” Runa announced at the start of their next lesson. “Now that you’re all patched up from the incident with the Brutopods, it’s time to identify your weaknesses and improve them. I have a feeling that will be far from the last time you’ll see combat while at the Sea.”

Barclay’s mood lifted. He wasn’t hopeless at sparring. He’d done a lot of it during the apprenticeship Exhibition in the Woods, and even after all this time, he and Tadg had never had their proper match.

“Viola, you can spar with Cecily. I think you’ll give each other a challenge,” Runa said. “Shazi, you’ll fight Tadg, since your metal will be vulnerable to his electricity. Please don’t kill one another, though. And Yasha, you’ll be with Hasu.”

“What about me?” Barclay asked.

“You’re going to keep working on the same assignment that I gave you after we left Knunx. It’s important that you master it.”

Feeling the burn of the others’ eyes on him, Barclay flushed from his ears to his toes. “B-but…” He steadied his voice, not wanting to show that being singled out bothered him. “I can still spar fine. I fought the Brutopods, didn’t I?”

“I know you can fight. But Orla feels that—”

“Orla?” Barclay’s stomach twisted tighter than a fisherman’s knot.

While the other apprentices exchanged nervous glances, Runa told them, “Off you all go. Barclay and I need a word together.” Then the assigned pairs scattered across the beach and grass, and Runa led Barclay away. “Orla isn’t important. What is important is—”