Violet and Vael stepped into the main room together.
The cottage was quiet now—just the crackle of the fire and Maria humming softly as she organized the kitchen.
Violet's shoulders finally dropped. The tension that had been coiling through her since Calla's arrival began to slowly unwind.
"She's really gone," Violet breathed.
Maria turned from the counter. "For now. But she'll be back. She always comes back."
The words carried weight they shouldn't have. Maria didn't know the full truth—didn't know about the poison, the deliberate murder—but she'd sensed something was wrong for a long time now.
Vael shifted his weight, glancing between them. "What will you do now?"
Violet straightened, pushing exhaustion aside through sheer force of will. "First, we visit the refuge. I need to check on everyone. Make sure the move went smoothly."
"You should rest," Maria said immediately. "You collapsed. You need—"
"I need to make sure my people are safe." Violet's voice came out firmer than she intended. She softened it. "Please, Mama. Just for an hour. Then I'll rest. I promise."
Maria's jaw worked silently. Finally, she sighed. "Fine. But you're taking food with you. And if you feel even slightly unwell, you come straight back."
She began packing a cloth bag with bread, dried meat, and cheese—far more than two children would need.
"For the others," Maria said when she caught Violet's questioning look. "If there are refugees, they're probably hungry."
Violet's throat tightened. "Thank you, Mama."
***
The walk to the refuge was quiet at first.
They moved through familiar forest paths, the late afternoon sun filtering through pine branches in golden shafts. Snow still clung to shadowed spots, but patches of bare earth were beginning to show.
"So," Vael said after several minutes. "What happened back there? In the healing ward?"
Violet's hands tightened on the food bag. "I had to fool the examination. Make it show what Calla expected to see."
"By hurting yourself?"
"By letting the poison work." Her voice was flat. "I drained all my mana so it would surge back in. The deterioration Calla's been causing—I made it visible. Made it real."
Vael's steps faltered. "That's..."
"Stupid? Reckless?" Violet glanced at him. "I know. But it was the only way. If the examination had shown I was healthy, Calla would have known something was wrong."
"You could have died."
"I know."
They walked in heavier silence after that.
Violet broke it first, deliberately changing the subject. "How are things at the refuge? Is everyone settling in?"
Vael's expression lightened slightly. "Bara's been making sure all the younglings and warriors stay ready. He's got them doing drills every morning—basic combat forms, endurance training. Says we can't get soft just because we're hiding."
"That sounds like him." A small smile tugged at Violet's lips. "And Kari?"
"Managing the camp. She's good at it—organizing food distribution, setting up patrol rotations, making sure the wounded get proper care." Vael's tail—still hidden by the disguising spell—would have wagged if it were visible. "She's strict, but fair. People listen to her."
Violet nodded, filing the information away.
Then, more quietly: "I've never asked about their families. Bara and Kari. Do they have—"
"Bara was never into family," Vael said immediately. "He's just battle-crazy. Lives for fighting and drinking and fighting some more." He grinned. "Da used to say Bara's idea of romance was finding someone who could break his ribs in a spar."
Violet snorted despite herself.
"But Kari..." Vael's expression sobered. "She had a husband once. And a son."
"Had?"
"Her husband died in battle. Years ago, from what I've heard. Before I was born." Vael's voice dropped lower. "And her son... no one really talks about him."
Violet's steps slowed. "What happened to him?"
"I don't know. Nobody will say." Vael's ears—hidden though they were—would have drooped. "But sometimes, late at night when she thinks no one's watching...
I see her staring at the northern constellation. And crying."
The words landed heavy between them.
Violet stopped walking entirely. "Vael. Stop."
He turned, confusion on his face. "What?"
"Just—stop. Please." Her hands clenched around the food bag. "It feels like I'm betraying her. Learning her secrets without her permission."
Vael's mouth opened, then closed. Understanding dawned in his grey eyes.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have—"
"It's fine. Just... we won't talk about it anymore. If she wants us to know, she'll tell us herself."
They continued in silence until the refuge came into view.
***
The hidden valley was alive with activity.
Beastkin moved between makeshift shelters—some training with weapons, others tending fires, children playing under watchful eyes. The organization was impressive given how recently they'd arrived.
Kari stood near the center, overseeing a group of young warriors practicing defensive formations. Her voice carried across the clearing—sharp, precise, brooking no excuses for sloppy footwork.
In the distance, Violet spotted Bara and Garrett standing together, deep in conversation. Her father's arms were crossed, his expression serious. Bara gesturing emphatically about something.
Kari noticed them approaching. "There you are. I was wondering—" Her eyes narrowed. "Where were you, Vael?"
Violet felt her anger start bubbling up again. That idiot nearly ruined everything—
"I'll tell you later," Vael said quickly, shooting Violet a pleading look. "Please don't mention it now."
Kari's eyes moved between them, reading the tension. "Fine. But we will discuss this."
Violet stepped forward, offering the bag of food. "We brought supplies. From my mother."
Kari's expression softened immediately. "Thank her for us. We're managing, but fresh food is always welcome." She took the bag carefully. "How are you feeling? You look pale."
"I'm fine." The lie came automatically.
"Violet—" Vael started.
"I'm fine," she repeated, more firmly.
Footsteps approached from behind. Garrett's familiar presence.
"How was your day, Littlebird?"
Violet's shoulders tensed. Her anger started rising again—at herself for being careless, at Vael for bursting into the healing ward, at Calla for existing, at everything—
"Please don't talk about it!" Vael blurted desperately.
Garrett blinked, clearly confused. He looked at Violet, then at Vael, then sighed deeply.
"Alright." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Since you're here anyway, I wanted to discuss something with you."
Violet tilted her head. "What?"
"I asked Kari to be your teacher." Garrett's voice carried a weight that made Violet straighten. "To teach you weapon mastery."
Violet stared at him, stunned. "What?"
Kari approached, arms crossed, her scarred face unreadable. "It's your choice, little girl. I don't take students lightly."
Bara lumbered over, grinning widely. "Just agree, kid. She doesn't take any disciples. Never even picked up her weapons after her son—"
He stopped abruptly, catching himself.
"Well," he continued more carefully. "We barely convinced her. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"But she doesn't even use weapons!" Violet protested. "I've only seen her fight with claws."
"That's because you haven't seen her really fight," Bara said. His grin widened. "The weapon she uses is—"
"Daggers."
Kari's voice cut through the clearing like a blade itself.
She stepped forward, and for the first time, Violet noticed the hilts protruding from sheaths strapped to her thighs—hidden under her fur, nearly invisible against her spotted coat.
"The Claws of the Snow Leopard," Kari continued, her yellow eyes fixing on Violet with sudden intensity. "One of the most formidable styles on the entire continent."
She moved closer until she stood directly before Violet.
"But it requires speed. Precision. The willingness to get close enough to your enemy to see the fear in their eyes before you end them." Her head tilted slightly. "Do you have what it takes to learn them?"
Violet's breath caught.
The question hung in the air—not a challenge, but a genuine inquiry.
Around them, the refuge had gone quiet. Warriors had stopped their training to watch. Even the children had paused their games.
Kari's scarred face was serious. Patient. Waiting.
"I—" Violet started, then stopped.
Her mind flashed through memories. Both lives. Every moment she'd been too weak, too slow, too unprepared.
Every time she'd had to watch others fight while she hid. Every death she couldn't prevent because she lacked the strength.
Her hands clenched into fists.
"Yes..."