Those Who Hold the Fire by Victoria Goddard

Author:Victoria Goddard
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf, mobi
Publisher: Victoria Goddard

Kip couldn’t do much of anything while the cuts on his hands healed. They were a lot deeper than he’d realized—obsidian was very, very sharp—and after they were bandaged it was hard to bend his fingers.

His mother tried to feed him, but he wasn’t that hurt, and he escaped after forcing down a couple slices of breadfruit. He wasn’t hungry, anyway. And his feet weren’t too bad. After a day’s rest and his sister Navalia’s ointment—Navalia wanted to be a nurse, and was glad to practice on his feet—she’d let him put his sandals on. She’d wanted to tie them on, so he didn’t latchet them too tightly across any of the cuts, but that was okay. Kip hadn’t wanted to ask for help, so it was good she’d come up with that herself.

He’d already had to put on modern clothes because he couldn’t tie the knots on his grass skirt properly. The cloth of the tunic and trousers felt stifling, and Navalia had tutted and fixed how the collar fell, but she’d just teased him for forgetting how to wear clothes after insisting on a grass skirt for months.

Luckily he hadn’t had his growth spurt, and could still fit his tunic.

Kip mooched down along the lagoon. Uncle Lazo’s barbershop was busy; half the elders were there for their haircuts this morning, it looked like. Kip gave the door a wide berth. Luckily he was wearing modern clothes, and none of the elders seemed to recognize him as he went by. They were used to him wearing Islander clothes. Kip turned his head, just in case Buru Tovo and Uncle Lazo had told them about how he’d failed.

Some of the other lore-keepers had dozens of apprentices, so it didn’t matter too much if one of them couldn’t make it all the way. But Buru Tovo hadn’t taken a full apprentice since forever, and Uncle Lazo neither, so when Kip came back from Loaloa the other elders had all wanted to talk to him. Kip definitely didn’t want them to know how he’d screwed up with the obsidian.

He clenched his hands, but that hurt and made his eyes prickle. He scowled and scuffed at the boardwalk, but then his feet hurt. Everything was wrong today. He hated it.

Once past Uncle Lazo’s, Kip didn’t have anywhere to go. His mother had said he should go to school if he was feeling better, but he wasn’t, not really. He couldn’t hold a pen to take notes. Not that he usually took notes. But the teacher didn’t like Kip, and wouldn’t like it at all if Kip just showed up to listen.

His cousins would ask how he’d hurt his hands, no doubt. Kip had skipped a couple of years when he came back from Loaloa, so the cousins closest to him in age had their own friends, and the ones in his class at school were all obsessed with the girls and boys they liked, and made fun of him for being too traditional and young.

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