"Who's Quinton?"

"The Ranger Commandant. Declaring you my apprentice to Baron Varick was little more than a formality. It means nothing until Quinton knows. Usually, a Ranger knows ahead of time if he plans to accept someone as an apprentice, and gets approval from Quinton before even asking the apprentice. I'm going about things a bit backwards here, but I think Quinton will agree these are unique circumstances."

One word sticks in my mind. Approval. "But does that mean Quinton might reject me?"

"He has never been known to reject anyone's request for an apprentice, so I doubt he'll start now." Aron grabs my good shoulder to stop me and moves to stand in front of me. "Halt, I am a senior member of the Ranger Corps. Quinton trusts my judgment, and I think you'll be fine. Besides, we won't get there today. We'll stop at a friend's overnight, and arrive by midmorning tomorrow. Come on, now, or we'll be late."

Aron doesn't know anything about me for sure. How can he know I could actually be a Ranger? When I voice my concern, he chuckles. "Halt, I found you almost at Castle Gorlan. If you had traveled for another day, you would have been there. That's at least a week's good ride from Selsey—two or three weeks by foot—not to mention you would have had to find a way across the sea between Hibernia and Araluen. Even to get to a port from Dun Kilty would have taken at least three days without a horse. You could have fled to another kingdom in Hibernia, or even just across the sea to Selsey, but you got to Araluen and kept running. Obviously, when you decide to do something, you do it completely. That's the kind of determination it takes to become a Ranger, and not many people have it."

"But how do you know I'll be a good Ranger?"

"There aren't any bad ones. Besides, you've only been my apprentice a few hours and you've already begun bombarding me with questions."

"Is that bad?"

"No, you're just curious. I've never known an apprentice who wasn't, and they've all become good Rangers.

"But how can you be sure?"

"Would you rather not be my apprentice? Because you seem so certain you wouldn't be good at it that it may not be worth even training you to find out."

"I want to be a Ranger."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I've never been good at anything before," I admit before I can stop myself. Now Aron looks confused, so I might as well explain. "Ferris was better at getting along with people, riding a battle horse, hosting a ball, and sword fighting. He always looked like a prince, but no one really even noticed me."

"Escaping notice is good for a Ranger, Halt. Stay here." He walks into the woods a few steps and vanishes.

"Aron?" I don't want to sound like a panicky little kid, but I have no idea where I am.

"I'm here." He moves, and I can suddenly see him again. He never left. "The basis of our so-called magic is our ability to escape notice. We most certainly do not host balls or anything of the like. Sword fighting is a skill that some may become good at, though Rangers do not waste their time or energy with it."

We walk in silence through the woods. Well, Aron is silent. I make quite a good deal of noise compared to him. How hard can it be to walk without making a sound? I begin noticing where I place my feet, trying to avoid sticks and dry leaves.

"Halt, are you coming?" Aron calls from a clearing several hundred yards ahead. I may be able to walk sort of quietly, but there's no way I'm as silent or as quick as him.

I pick up my pace and start to jog, then wince as my shoulder throbs. Running definitely isn't a good idea. The walk seems to take forever with Aron waiting patiently at the end of the trail.

"There's someone I want you to meet, Halt. Come on." He leads me across a sunny meadow to a cabin, where he shouts, "Theo! Bob!"

Two men come out of the cabin, one significantly older than the other. "Aron! Good to see you again. Here to fetch Gone?"

"That would be great, Theo. And you said a few days ago you have another one available?"

"For the boy?"

"Yes. Halt, this is Theo. He's got something for you."

Theo smiles. "Halt, I'm glad to meet you. But Bob is actually the one who's done all the work with this one, so I think he should take you to meet him." He turns to the younger man standing behind him. "Bob, if Abelard is ready, Halt is the perfect size—maybe even a bit small. Sparks is just as good, though, if you think Abelard needs a bit more time."

Bob takes me out back to a paddock with three horses waiting at the gate. "The gray is Gone, Aron's horse. Sparks is the black and Abelard's the bay. It's lunchtime for them, so I'll be right back with some feed. Get to know Sparks and Abe while I'm gone. One of them is gonna be yours."