“You’re one to talk.” Asgall’s tail propelled him forward. His skin and scales were so dark that, even with Hæra’s sharp vision, it was difficult to see him. Her own skin and scales, a very pale blue, made her a more visible target.

“My dream was within reach,” Asgall growled. “It still might be. Yours? No.” He tossed his head contemptuously, as if Hæra’s ambitions deserved to be shaken away. “There’s never been a female Stormhorse and never will be.”

Hæra ignored that. He hadn’t observed her trespass, although he clearly suspected it. If he knew for sure, he’d rub her nose in it before tattling. She said, “What do you mean, your dream ‘still might be’ within reach? You failed your trial, so-called hope of our family, and you’ll never be a Stormhorse. There are no second chances. Be glad our father wasn’t alive to see it.”

Any defeat for her vicious brother was a victory for Hæra. Their mother, Beathag, had taken no such pleasure in it, and her disappointment had torn at Hæra. Literally. She’d worn the scars from her mother’s hooves for many tides.

“And who’s our hope now? You, Hiiiira?”

Hæra had no idea why it should be so irritating when her brother elongated her name. Probably because nearly everything he did was as irritating as an oyster’s sandy insides. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t be. Am I not as swift as you? As cunning?” She swished her tail threateningly. “Am I not the braver hunter? The Sire’s rewarded me often enou⁠—”

Asgall snapped out with his teeth, but Hæra was prepared for that. She darted out of the way and swiped at him with her tail, catching him at his ribs. He grunted. As a foal, she’d assumed these battles were only play; the first time he’d broken her skin, she’d learned better. Now she took it seriously. Her brother would earn none of her blood.

He retreated with a snarl. “You’re not as good as you think. Not nearly as good. And what makes you so proud of yourself is what shames our mother the most.”

The words struck home. Asgall was right: Beathag had never forgiven Hæra for being better at hunting, fighting, everything Asgall was supposed to excel in. Sometimes it seemed she loathed Hæra for it even more than Asgall did. Her two offspring were her two greatest disappointments, but at least Asgall wasn’t a showy one.

Now that Hæra was grown, it was easy to avoid her mother, and she did so at every opportunity. It was also better to ignore Asgall now that he no longer wished to attack her, and generally the right thing to do after he grew tiresome.