The forest gates had never looked so much like a mouth.
I stood among the tournament entrants and watched warriors carry the last supply crates beneath the trees. Beyond them, strips of silver cloth marked the beginning of a trail.
Somewhere farther in, a horn sounded.
A test, someone said.
My stomach didn't seem to understand the difference.
Around me, wolves stretched, adjusted their boots, and spoke with the easy confidence of people who had spent their lives expecting to be good at things.
I checked the fastening on my water flask for the third time.
"It was closed the first two times."
Mira stood beside me, carrying a small bundle wrapped in cloth.
"I'm being thorough."
"You're trying to unscrew it by staring."
I made myself let go.
She offered the bundle.
"Eat."
"I already did."
"Half a piece of bread while walking here."
"That counts."
"As a disappointing beginning."
Inside was another piece of bread and a small portion of cheese.
I took a bite to stop her looking at me like that.
She smiled.
Beyond her shoulder, the courtyard was filling with spectators. Families stood together near the barriers. Children perched on the lower fence rails until warriors told them to climb down.
For a moment, I searched the crowd without knowing what I expected to find.
Then Lysandra appeared beside the medical station, speaking to another healer.
When she saw me, she lifted a hand.
Something in my chest settled.
I lifted mine back.
The days since my wolf had spoken again had passed quickly.
Too quickly.
She still offered little about the fire. Whenever I asked, I felt her searching through the same uncertainty that troubled me.
But she answered now.
Sometimes only a word.
Sometimes a feeling.
This morning, she had been awake before I was.
You're restless, I told her.
So are you.
That was difficult to argue with.
Lysandra had examined my wrist and ribs before allowing me to compete. The bruises had faded, and I could breathe deeply without the sharp pain that had followed me for days.
Keiran had kept his promise.
He had returned to train with me.
Not long sessions. Not the sort that left me barely able to lift my arms.
He taught me how to notice a shift in weight. How to save steps. How to recognize when retreating gave me a better chance than holding my ground.
I hoped I remembered any of it once the horn sounded.
As for the records of my childhood, Lysandra had requested permission to examine the older registers.
We were still waiting.
It seemed I had become very good at waiting for things that frightened me.
"Entrants!"
Beta Garrick's voice carried across the courtyard.
Conversations faded.
Mira squeezed my hand.
"I'll be near the finish."
"If I find it."
"You will."
She said it so firmly that I almost believed her.
Then she stepped back, and I joined the other competitors.
Beta Garrick Vale stood on a wooden platform beside a large map.
Warriors lined the fence behind him.
I recognized several from the patrol routes. Seeing them there should have reassured me.
Mostly, it reminded me that the missing wolves had still not come home.
"Today marks the first elimination of the Wolf Warrior tournament," Garrick announced. "Both the solo and paired divisions will compete at the same time."
A murmur moved through the entrants.
He waited until it quieted.
"This first trial is not a combat bout. You will not advance simply because you can strike harder than the wolf standing beside you."
His gaze passed over the crowd.
"A member of Silvercrest must be able to think while tired, move through difficult ground, recognize danger, and make sound decisions under pressure. Strength matters. So do agility, endurance, observation, and restraint."
He turned toward the map.
"The course lies within the southern inner woodland. The boundaries have been inspected and secured. Outer-border patrols remain at their posts."
I looked toward the trees again.
Inner woodland.
Far from the river.
Garrick pointed to three marked locations.
"You will pass three checkpoints. At each, a warrior will give you a task. Completing it earns you a stamped token. You must reach the finishing grounds with all three tokens before the final horn."
An attendant lifted a small metal disc for us to see.
"Missing a checkpoint means elimination. Arriving after the final horn means elimination. Losing a token means returning to the checkpoint that issued it."
Someone behind me muttered a curse.
I privately agreed.
"You will receive a course map, water, a length of cord, and an emergency whistle. No weapons are permitted in this trial."
That caught several people's attention.
Garrick's expression didn't change.
"All entrants will remain in human form. Shifting, extending claws, or deliberately using teeth against another competitor will result in immediate disqualification. Wolf-form rounds come later."
My shoulders loosened before I could stop them.
Beside the platform, a warrior began collecting practice blades.
"The paired division will follow the blue markers," Garrick continued. "Solo entrants will follow silver. Some sections share the same ground, but your tasks and finishing records are separate."
He indicated two paths branching from the starting area.
"Paired entrants must arrive at every checkpoint together. If one partner withdraws, the pair is eliminated."
I spotted Callen a few rows ahead.
He leaned toward Keiran.
Keiran didn't look amused by whatever he said.
Some things remained dependable.
"Solo entrants must complete their own checkpoint tasks. You may speak to other competitors. You may offer help in an emergency. You may not transfer tokens or have someone complete a task for you."
Garrick lowered his hand.
"Deliberate attacks, theft, and interference with another entrant's equipment are prohibited."
His voice hardened.
"The purpose of this trial is to survive the course. It is not permission to settle personal grievances beneath the trees."
I kept my eyes on the platform.
I could feel Maera somewhere in the crowd without needing to find her.
Lysandra's report had not disappeared. Statements had been taken, and the matter was still before the pack leadership. Maera had been permitted to remain on the tournament list while they considered those accounts.
I hated how ordinary her name looked among the others.
"Warriors will be stationed at every checkpoint, along the difficult sections, and throughout the course," Garrick said. "If you are injured, lost, or encounter anything outside the trial, use your whistle."
He held one up.
"One long blast. Remain where you are unless staying puts you in danger. A warrior will come to you."
A pause.
"Calling for help ends your attempt. It does not make you a coward. Failing to report a genuine danger may put others at risk."
I remembered Lysandra's warning in the clearing.
You don't need to understand a danger before you walk away from it.
Apparently, I was being told the same thing by several people now.
Perhaps I should listen.
"The fastest twelve eligible solo entrants and the fastest six eligible pairs will advance," Garrick concluded. "Officials may apply time penalties for breaking course instructions. Speed will not excuse carelessness."
He surveyed us one last time.
"Check your equipment. Report any problem before you enter."
Then the courtyard filled with movement.
Mira
I left Elara near the equipment tables and headed toward the medical station.
Lysandra had asked me to bring the extra bandages.
I was watching a warrior drag a barrier across the path when I turned the corner.
My shoulder struck someone.
The basket slipped against my hip.
"Oh—sorry."
Then I saw who it was.
Maera looked down at the place where we had collided before slowly lifting her eyes.
"Of course."
I tightened my grip on the basket.
"I didn't see you."
"You rarely look where you're going."
I stepped aside.
She moved with me.
Behind her stood one of the girls who had helped attack Elara.
My hands went cold.
"I need to get these to Lysandra."
Maera glanced at the bandages.
"How useful. You might want to save a few for your new friend."
I looked at her.
She smiled.
There were people nearby. Plenty of them.
That never seemed to bother Maera when she knew how quietly to speak.
"You two are well suited," she continued. "A mutt finding another mutt."
I had heard worse from her.
That was the humiliating part.
Somewhere inside me, there was still a younger version of myself who hoped that one day she might say my name without making it sound like something dirty.
I shifted the basket higher.
"Move."
Her eyebrows lifted.
"Elara's teaching you manners now?"
"No."
"Good. Hers are dreadful."
I tried to step around her.
She caught the edge of my sleeve.
I stopped immediately.
Maera leaned closer.
"I already couldn't stand her. Finding out she's your little friend only makes this more enjoyable."
I looked at her hand.
Then at her face.
"Everyone heard the rules."
"I don't need to break a rule to crush her."
Her smile widened.
"I want you watching when she fails."
For a moment, I imagined answering every cruel thing she had ever said.
About my mother.
About me.
About all the places she believed I had no right to stand.
Then I saw Elara across the courtyard, alone beside a table, checking a map with fierce concentration.
I pulled my sleeve free.
"She's waiting for me."
Maera laughed.
"That's all you have to say?"
I walked away.
My heart beat hard enough to hurt, but I kept walking.
Elara had spent enough mornings believing nobody would choose her.
I wasn't going to waste this one arguing with someone who already knew how to be cruel.
Elara
Mira returned looking as though she had swallowed something sharp.
"What happened?"
"Nothing worth your attention right now."
I lowered the map.
"Mira."
Her eyes flicked across the courtyard.
I followed the movement.
Maera stood near the solo line, fastening her equipment belt.
Understanding settled unpleasantly in my stomach.
"Did she say something to you?"
"Nothing original."
"That doesn't mean—"
"I know."
Mira touched my arm.
"We'll talk later. Right now, I want you to think about the course."
I looked at her face.
She was trying.
So I let her.
"For the record," she added, "I'm expecting you to come back with complaints, not injuries."
"What if I have both?"
"Then Lysandra gets the injuries, and I'll decide whether the complaints are interesting."
I smiled.
Only a little.
But enough that some of the tension left her shoulders.
A shadow fell across the map.
"Silver trail," Keiran said.
I looked up.
He stood beside Callen, both wearing blue cloth bands around their wrists.
Mine was silver.
"That is what they gave me," I replied.
Callen leaned over to inspect the map.
"Excellent. They've already tested whether you can recognize a color."
"Are you worried about your own chances?"
"Constantly. Keiran refuses to let me make decisions."
"Because your first suggestion was a shortcut through an unmarked section," Keiran said.
"A theoretical shortcut."
"A theoretical disqualification."
Mira laughed.
I hadn't realized how badly I needed someone to sound ordinary.
Keiran looked at me.
"Remember what we practiced."
"Try not to fall?"
"Look before you move."
I nodded.
His gaze dropped to the whistle secured near my collar.
"And use that if you need it."
"I will."
He seemed to consider saying something else.
Then Garrick called for the lines to form.
Callen clapped his shoulder.
"Come on. I'd hate to be eliminated before we start."
Keiran stepped back.
"Good luck, Elara."
"You too."
Mira took my hand once more.
Then she let go.
The horn sounded.
The first wave of entrants surged forward.
I nearly followed their pace.
Nearly.
Then I saw the narrowing path beyond the gate and forced myself to slow enough to avoid being trapped between shoulders and swinging elbows.
Two girls passed me.
A man brushed my arm without looking back.
I kept moving.
The silver ribbons began where the courtyard noise faded.
I glanced at the map.
First checkpoint: the ridge.
There were two marked approaches.
One climbed directly.
The other curved around a longer slope.
I looked up.
Several entrants had already chosen the steep route. Boots scraped loose soil. Someone grabbed a root and hauled himself upward.
Faster, if I could manage it.
Riskier, if I couldn't.
My wrist gave a small remembered ache.
I took the longer path.
Good, my wolf murmured.
The word startled me so much that I nearly missed a turn.
You could warn me before speaking.
A faint flicker of amusement answered.
It was the most like herself she had felt in days.
I kept running.
The first checkpoint stood beside a shallow ravine.
A warrior waited beneath a silver banner with a pouch of tokens at his belt.
Between me and the opposite side stretched two routes: a narrow fallen trunk and a lower crossing made of uneven stones.
A bell hung from a post beyond them.
"Cross, ring the bell, and return," the warrior instructed. "Stay within the marked section. Falling outside it means starting again."
The trunk was faster.
The stones were steadier.
I studied both.
A girl ahead of me rushed onto the trunk.
Halfway across, her arms flew outward.
She recovered, but barely.
I looked at the stones.
Three were dry.
The fourth glistened.
Water moved around its base.
I chose the trunk.
Not because it was quickest.
Because the stones were farther apart than they had first appeared, and the slick one sat exactly where I would need to land.
I stepped onto the wood.
Arms loose.
Knees soft.
Look ahead.
For a moment, I heard Keiran's voice more clearly than the water below.
I crossed.
Rang the bell.
Turned slowly.
The return was worse.
I knew now how narrow it was.
Halfway back, my foot shifted on a smooth patch of bark.
My stomach dropped.
I bent my knees instead of locking them.
Waited.
Found my balance.
Then took the next step.
When I reached solid ground, the warrior placed a stamped token in my hand.
"One."
I secured it inside the pouch at my waist.
My fingers were shaking.
I had done it anyway.
Farther along, blue and silver trails joined.
Voices carried through the trees.
Somewhere to my right, a pair argued over which of them had read the map upside down.
I ran past without investigating.
The second checkpoint tested strength.
A weighted sack waited beside a low barrier, with a rope threaded through an overhead pulley.
"Raise it above the red mark," the official said. "Keep it there long enough to move the latch."
I reached for the rope.
Pulled.
The sack barely shifted.
My shoulders protested.
For one miserable moment, I thought of all the wolves behind me who would lift it easily.
Then I noticed the second section of rope.
The pulley.
The position of the latch.
I stopped pulling.
The official said nothing.
I looped the free end around the wooden cleat beside me, tested the tension, and leaned back with my weight.
The sack rose.
Slowly.
I took up the slack, braced it against the cleat, and reached for the latch with my free hand.
It slid into place.
The weight held.
The warrior offered me the second token.
"Keep moving."
I did.
This time, I was smiling.
The smile vanished at the fork.
Silver ribbons hung from branches along both paths.
I stopped so abruptly that loose dirt slid beneath my boots.
One route descended toward the sound of running water.
The other climbed between thick ferns.
Two entrants rushed past me down the slope.
Neither hesitated.
I unfolded my map.
The final checkpoint lay beyond a dry rise.
The stream marked its boundary, not its approach.
I looked down again.
Footprints covered the lower trail.
So many that it looked obvious.
Easy.
I took one step toward it.
Then stopped.
Look before you move.
The ribbons were silver on both routes.
But the lower ones hung from branches.
The upper ones were tied around the trunks, just as Garrick's attendants had tied them at the start.
I looked closer.
The branches below were loose.
Placed there.
My pulse quickened.
A test.
Or something wrong.
Either way, the map hadn't changed.
I turned uphill.
Behind me, someone laughed.
"Lost already?"
Maera stood at the fork.
Her braid lay neatly over one shoulder. She looked from my map to the narrow trail above me.
Then toward the wider path.
I folded the parchment.
"No."
She smiled.
"We'll see."
For a heartbeat, I was back in the clearing, waiting for her to decide whether I could leave.
Then my wolf stirred.
Keep going.
I turned my back on Maera and climbed.
This time, I didn't need her permission.