Meredith
The stormy season was coming, but it didn’t yet smell like
rain. The early sky was gray now, but promised to be a breathtaking blue and,
as the sun rose, the grass under Meredith’s bare feet sparkled its dewdrops
like cherished gems. She used to imagine the little blades of grass were like
the fancy nobility, attending balls and dancing and showing off their prized
jewelry. Older now, she smiled at the fond memories, no less sweetened in the
time since.
The hives were nearly awake but she knew they’d be drowsy
for a little longer. This was her favorite hive – they all had their own
personalities – and she felt they liked her as much as she liked them. The
honey was always sweetest, and they rarely stung.
Meredith’s family had raised bees for generations beyond
memory, and even those who left the business kept a home-hive to feed the
family and neighbors. With practiced ease, she set aside the crown board and
pulled the long, slim knife from her belt, using a hand to gently brush the
bees away and cut a few choice chunks of comb. Her basket full, she put the
cloth across to keep the bees from following it and replaced the crown to stand
and admire the hives.
“I have news,” she said softly. Every good beekeeper knew
that the only way to guarantee the bees to stay was to keep them informed of
the family news, good and ill.
She felt her heart flutter as she said the words, “I’m for the
Retrievers today.”
Retrievers were a hardy bunch, tasked with answering the
calls from all across the country to safely collect and deliver children born
with magic to the Order for training.
Before she could become one, she had to pass the tests,
which were not easy – she had to be quick and capable, strong and determined
and skilled, but she also had to be trustworthy and above reproach. How else
could the Order trust someone to Retrieve its most precious resource?
But she’d applied, written the essay, and passed the
preliminary tests under the watchful eye of the town’s magistrate months ago.
With the documents sent to the Order for review, she’d received the notice
yesterday that she had been accepted for training. Fewer than half of applicants
passed all the trials.
When she’d shared the news, her parents had been ecstatic,
but she saw their nerves, too. Retrievers, more than anyone else, saw the
harshest sides of the world. A cousin of hers was retired young from Retrieving
– lost a hand to a sword – and had told her stories. Soldiers sent to battle
expected to fight other soldiers and face the enemy head-on, but when a
Retriever had to stop a blood mage from stealing or murdering a child, it was a
new kind of darkness, rarely experienced, and never forgotten.
To their credit, her parents never tried to talk her from
the path, but she’d heard indecipherable murmurs from their bedroom late into
the hours of the night and knew they were discussing her.
She turned at the soft sound of footsteps behind and saw her
father, barefoot as she was, freshly brushed and dressed. He smiled.
“Come to tell the bees your news?” he asked.
She nodded. “And you?”
He smiled. “Is that our breakfast?”
Meredith lifted the basket and walked toward him to lean her
head into his chest. He wrapped his arms about her and stroked the top of her head
like she was a child, though he had to reach much higher than he used to.
“I’m proud of you,” he said softly.
“I might not pass,” she reminded him.
The scoff he made bounced her head on his chest, but he didn’t
say anything until, “Take that inside and wake your sisters. I’ll be along
shortly.”
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