CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Kyra stood in the forest clearing, breathing hard, overwhelmed with frustration. Her hands were raw, her quiver empty, already having fired all her arrows at her targets. She had missed them all.
Kyra felt like a failure. She could not understand how she had missed every single shot, as she had not missed a shot in years. Every time she fired, somehow the tree moved. The skinny trees were very much alive here, dodging her arrows; she could not even hit a leaf. Her arrows had whizzed by harmlessly, landing on the forest floor, while Alva had sat there and watched all morning, silent, expressionless. Failing in front of him had worsened her shame. He was never disapproving, and he never tried to correct her—in fact, he never said anything. He just observed, and his obse
