She looked excited for a second then shook her head. "Oh, no, no, no. I shouldn't be taking you away from your training. You didn't come all the way here just to make cookies."

I felt the counter behind me and leaned back against it slightly. "Well . . . you probably know better than I do, but Thoran said he would let me know when it was time to train," I said. "And I really would like to help."

She smiled mischievously. It made me grin.

"Okay," she said. "Maybe just this once." She started to rush towards the pantry, but spun around to face me halfway. "You have to promise to let me know if you get sick of it."

I nodded my agreement, then rolled up my sleeves as she headed off again.

An hour or two later we had quite a variety of sugary goodness laid out on the counter. Sophie praised me every step of the way for the most basic steps.

I was bending over to look for another sheet, when I heard a voice come from the other side of the counter.

"Hello, Sophie." It was a boy's voice, surprise, surprise. "Man, you really went to town with the desserts today," he said. "New cookbook?"

She shook her head, as I purposefully extended my search for the cooking sheet.

"You think they look good," said Sophie. "Just try one of them."

There was silence for a moment.

"Wow, that's fantastic," said the boy. "You didn't make these?"

She started walking off towards the pantry, waving a hand in the air. "I wish."

At this point I knew if I stayed on the floor any longer it just wouldn't seem normal. So, trying to make as much noise of warning as I could, I reached for the pan and stood up regularly.

Despite my efforts, the young man still seemed surprised at my sudden appearance. He looked at me, brows raised, through steely, grey eyes.

"Sorry," I said sweetly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

He waved his hands quickly. "No, no, it's all good. You must be Evelyn, right?"

I squeezed the cooking sheet tightly around my waist. "Yes."

He was quiet for a moment, looking at me with a large, toothy, smile.

"I'm sorry, I don't know you're name . . ."

"Holdan," he finished for me. "And you shouldn't, we've only just met."

I tried to keep my eyebrows from lifting at his, seemingly unaware, mention of the obvious.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I'm a little tongue tied. I just had one of these things-" he gestured towards a chocolate filled pastry "-they're amazing."

I smiled. "Thank you."

He pointed at me. "You made these?"

I blushed a little, regretting the giveaway. "Umm, yeah."

"Well, good job then," he said.

I smiled once then set the metal sheet on the counter and started to place dough on it.

It was amazing to me how different this guy was from Jaden or Ikovos, so much more talkative. I guess everyone here couldn't be the same though. I let out an unintended sigh.

Holdan started again. "So, can you come now, or . . ."

I looked up at him. "Come where?"

He leaned forward casually. "I thought Thoran told you," he said. "I'm your weapons trainer."

Again I was surprised. "Oh. Umm. . . ." I looked around, then back at him. "Let me just ask Sophie real quick."

He gave me a thumbs-up.

As I turned around I made a dubious face, definitely a lot different than Jaden and Ikovos.

When I found Sophie she told me it was fine for me to leave, and the next thing I knew I was walking down the hall next to Holdan.

He was very tall. must have been at least twenty. His slick, black, hair reminded me of Garret, only it was cropped a bit shorter. All around he was rather good-looking. I was beginning to wonder if there was something in the water here.

"So, have you ever had weapon training before?" asked Holdan.

I shook my head back and forth. "Not exactly. But I do know a few things."

He nodded sympathetically. "Okay. We'll just start at the beginning then and see how you progress."

I smiled. I was very excited to start training, if not a little nervous. To be honest I'd expected Jaden or Ikovos to teach me.

That was stupid, I thought to myself, they have all these uber-important things to do. I sighed. Like now. Wherever they are, it must be awfully significant.

"Something wrong?" asked Holdan beside me. I realized we were stopped in front of a door.

"Nope," I said in an attempt to sound nonchalant. "Just thinking."

He grinned and pushed the door open. "Okay, then. Go ahead."

I walked through what seemed to be another side exit from the lodge. I wondered if I should stop calling them that since there didn't appear to be any large, front, doors in the bunch.

As Holdan closed the door behind me I looked around and realized where all, or at least most, of the boys went after breakfast.

Stretching in every direction, rings of wooden, fenced-in arenas scattered the forest. They were filled with heavy instruments, straw or smooth dirt covering the ground, but the amazing part was that each contained at least three boys. Some fighting each other, some shooting targets with arrows or swords. It wasn't even that nice outside, either. The rain had stopped for now, but dark clouds still covered the sky completely, and a strong wind was blowing in significantly cold weather.

I had to admit the sight filled me with excitement, so much adventure, so much action.

I was pulled out of my examination when I heard Holdan's voice behind me. "This is the training ground. Where most of us spend our time." He started moving forwards. "You'll get used to coming here to see me a lot."

I followed, but didn't pay much attention as he continued to talk about each area we walked past. It was simple enough for me to tell. We passed some where boys were shooting arrows at impossibly far targets . . . and still others containing different varieties of weapons, in these he boys were either fighting each other or hay-filled dummies.

We stepped into the latter type, and Holdan walked over to the fence and picked up a simple sword.

"This is the first weapon you'll learn to use." He moved closer to me. "Where people usually go wrong is in the grip." I nodded, taking it all in intently. "It's like this." He showed me his hand and then placed it on the hilt in a distinct manner before passing the sword to me.

My stomach was twisting with nervousness. I really didn't want to make a fool of myself, but accepted it as the probability anyways.

Wrapping my fingers around the metal, I tried to imitate his form. "Like this?" I asked.

He shook his head then moved my fingers into a different arrangement. He definitely seemed more focused now that he was teaching.

As I tried to make a mental, memory-note of the way my hands sat on the sword, Holdan grabbed another blade.

"Let's try some basic sparring first," he said. "Just so I can see where you're at."

I winced. For some reason it was a lot easier for me to deny Holdan then some other people I know. "Could we just try the practicing thing for a little while first?" I glanced down sheepishly. "I feel a little too nervous to fight."

He considered this. "Yeah, sure." He winked. "But you owe me one."

I laughed once and put my head down. I wasn't so sure I liked the sound of that.

After showing me how to stand properly we began running through some different parries, thrusts, and blocks. Two hours later he informed me it was time to stop for lunch.

"You're pretty good, you know," said Holdan. "Easy to teach."

I swallowed the bite of sandwich in my mouth. "Thank you."

We were still outside, but over a few yards near some wooden tables. Most of the other boys had stopped to eat relatively close to us, but as of yet they had not made any greetings.

I watched Holdan take a bite of his food. He was a very exaggerated person. The inflections of his voice were exaggerated, his hand gestures were exaggerated, even his eating now seemed exaggerated.

"So are we done after this?" I asked him.

He shook his head, "No. We should go for a little while longer." He leaned back in the grass. "Why, am I wearing you out?" He had his big toothy smile.

I forced a laugh. "No, I was just wondering."

He nodded to me. It slowly died out. "So, do you like it here so far?"

I smiled. "I love it. I think it's absolutely wonderful."

He rested his head on his hand. "What about it?"

Wow, loaded question. "Umm . . ." I considered it. I didn't really think I knew this guy well enough to reveal my true feelings so I kept it simple. "The environment, the people. Oh, and magic of course." The last part came out unintentionally.

He looked at me through icy eyes. "Magic, really?"

I nodded, then looked down and took some food off my plate. "Can you use magic?"

He sat upright, laughing. "I don't know who you've been talking to, but besides the Masters there aren't that many artisans."

"So you're not?" I asked, looking up.

He shook his head. "No, I am," he stated.

I couldn't hide the confusion on my face. Why the long assertion?

He hopped up before I could not ask because I was too wimpy.

"Let's get back to it." He grabbed my hand and lifted me up without mention. "We'll be done in a few hours."

Holdan was wrong about the few hours thing. Unless by a 'few' hours he meant five. After apologizing repeatedly, he started asking me to go to dinner with him. I used the excuse that I was too tired, which wasn't completely untrue, and headed back to my room.

Once I was there I let out a sigh and fell backwards into the couch.

What a day. I started to think about Holdan and what I had learned, but it was a poor attempt when my thoughts were so fixed on only one thing . . . or two, as it were.

My eyes wandered to the green fire on the table. Instantly I hopped up. The last thing I wanted to do was get stuck staring at that for the next three hours.

Pacing momentarily, I decided to grab a book and try to find something more on offensive magic. I bent down and traced my finger over the tomes. I was rather surprised to see one called 'Conjuring Fire from Thin Air' after just a few checks.

I slid it out from the shelf and went back to sit on the couch. Before I did though, I decided to check outside to see if it was dark yet.

It wasn't, and it didn't appear to be raining either so I lifted the glass to let some air in.

As soon as the window was open a black, furry, ball screeched and leapt towards it. I screamed too, afraid that he had jumped to his death. It appeared that he had successfully latched onto the frame.

Before I could reach for him he started scurrying up the trim and onto the outer wall. I quickly stuck my head out the window and looked up. It was going for the roof. I pulled my head back inside.

"Well, I'm not going up there to get him," I mumbled to myself, loud enough so the fuzz-ball could hear of course. But even as I said it an image of broken, little, fur-covered, bones popped into my head.

With an exasperated sigh, I poked my head out the window again and looked up and down. I was surprised to see a sturdy looking wooden ledge a couple feet below.

I began to climb through the window. "I can't believe I'm doing this to save a squirrel." I dropped onto the ledge with both feet. "It lives outside. It would have been completely fine."

I looked up again and saw the last inch of puffy tail disappear onto the roof. I quickly searched around for a way to get up. If I couldn't even catch up with the little guy I was going to feel very stupid. To my right I noticed a secure spot and climbed up successfully to the rooftop.

The piece I was standing on now was sloping drastically. Beyond that the top of the building was sectioned off into various levels and angles.

I could see the little critter a few feet away from me, he seemed apprehensive to explore the roof. I didn't blame him, not only was the space daunting, it was also ridiculously cold up here.

I tried to take a few steps forward, but balance was not really one of my abilities. I almost fell twice and after the third time I plopped down for stability, huffing loudly.

Great, now I have the blood of an innocent little animal on my hands.