The path east followed the Gathering's social trail for a short while before branching off, forcing Ai and Dem to hop across a string of slick stones that turned the stream into a trickle of rapids. Fleet fish leapt now and then, arcing brown and pink above the water as if trying to outrun the current.
"Grab one next time one jumps," Ai joked.
Dem gripped her hand as they helped each other across the last of the rocks and landed safely on the grassy track. A game trail cut through a copse of trees and spilled them high into the foothills—an entire hillside draped in yellow blooms.
Ai clapped. "Yada's favorite!"
Dem bent, inhaling the flowers' faint sweetness. "I'm glad it's just us. I wanted to talk away from the camp."
Ai froze at his tone. "Is something wrong?"
Dem shook his head. "I didn't leave the King's tomb empty-handed."
Ai blinked—she'd seen him come out, she knew he wasn't carrying anything obvious. "What did you take?"
"Everything." Dem's answer was too casual for the words. "Weapons, armor, scrolls."
Ai frowned. "You weren't carrying anything, dasai."
"Have you heard of a storage ring?" Dem asked.
Ai's eyes widened, and she glanced around like someone who suddenly suspected an invisible thief. "Yes—I've heard them mentioned while on supply runs to Thaigmaal. Do you have one?"
Dem shook his head and then, carefully, produced a small black wooden case as if from nowhere. Ai gasped. Inside, nine brass rings sat in velvet, one slot empty.
"You have ten of them?" she breathed.
"Ten," Dem confirmed. "Nine in here."
She picked one up and nearly dropped it when an empty inventory flickered into being before her eyes. She set it back with reverence.
"And you're wearing the tenth?" she asked.
Dem held out his hand. A ring sat invisible on his finger.
Ai smiled, fingers closing on air to find the band. "Why can't it be seen?"
Dem shrugged. "Part of the enchantment, maybe. It won't come off. Legacy items." His voice was flat with the weight of a lesson learned.
Ai tried to slide the invisible ring free and swore under her breath. "Damn—this is…dangerous."
"Really dangerous," Dem agreed.
"What do you want to do?" she asked.
"I thought I'd speak to the clan chief. Get his advice."
Ai's shoulders relaxed. "Good. He might want to share them with the other clans."
"Makes sense." Dem let the math land. Nine clan chiefs. Nine rings left.
Ai grinned. "My dasai is always in trouble."
Dem returned the smile. "Not this time. It wasn't my fault."
Ai hugged him, pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. "You always say that."
Two hours later, Dem stood in the chief's tent, Huntmaster Dern at the chief's shoulder, the black case open between them. The brass rings caught the lamp glow and seemed to hum with quiet promise.
Chief Revan exchanged a look with Dern. "Once you store something with it, the ring binds to the wearer?"
"That's what happened to me," Dem said. "I can only assume the rest bind the same way."
"What else was in the tomb?" Revan asked.
"Weapons, armor, scrolls, and a Sybasi training inheritance that I immediately claimed."
"By clan law, everything inside belongs to you," Revan said after a pause.
Dem shook his head. "I think you should distribute the rings to the other clan leaders."
"For what price?" Revan asked. He sounded unsurprised at the suggestion. "How much do they hold?"
Dem shrugged. "There were weapon racks and armor stands—everything fit into one without a problem."
Dern whistled softly.
"Our shaman is here." Dem nodded to the tent's entrance.
The shaman padded in a moment later—white-painted skin, furs draped over her shoulders, eyes sharp as winter. She glanced at Dem and smiled with familiar mischief. "Are you trouble again, dasai?"
"No, dosu." Dem's gaze swept the two men. "Am I?"
The shaman listened as Revan repeated Dem's tale, her expression folding into thought.
"Dem crossed the bridge at the tomb," she said when Revan finished. "No one else could get beyond the halfway point."
Revan's brow knitted. "I tried myself. Couldn't take a step past the center. You think it's related to his bloodline?"
The shaman nodded. "Dem is a direct descendant—likely a great-grandson of Demetri, the Great Beast King."
Revan's tanned face paled. "A direct descendant?"
"That's why I've had to reinforce his tattoo," the shaman said. "Even so, Dem could probably change if he chose."
All three eyes turned to Dem. He only nodded. "I could."
The shaman closed her eyes, drawing threads of old lore together. Then she looked up. "What do you want to do, Dem?"
"I want to present each clan chief with a brass ring," Dem said. "That's it. Leave it at that—no further claim."
Dern's gaze flicked over the rings. Keeping them would be a huge boon for the Swiftwind; sharing them would prevent envy and open conflict. "It seems the wisest course," he said.
"Agreed," Revan replied. "You can still sell them—bleed them for a price—if you choose."
Dem's grin was slow and careful. "I intend to be reasonable. But not overly so."
**
"Really?" Dem walked beside Telo while Ai and Tam followed close behind.
Telo nodded. "Roving bandits, mercenaries, bounty hunters—most looking to ransom tribals back to their clans. The Gathering's the only time of year we don't have to worry about being targeted."
Ai's gaze drifted toward the horizon, her voice quieter. "Even livestock raids during the hard winters. Without walls, armies, or laws binding us together, some see tribals as nothing but coin and opportunity."
Tam reached out and squeezed her friend's hand. Everyone in the clans had lost someone; grief was a language they all understood.
Sensing the heaviness, Ai changed course. "We have the first round of the archery contest today."
"And my fourth telling," Telo added with mock grandeur. "The one where I visited the Beast Empire."
Three sets of eyes widened.
"You visited the Great Beast Empire on your Massat?" Ai asked, astonished.
She'd never heard of anyone traveling that far during their wandering year.
Telo puffed his chest proudly. "Telo is not a stone that gathers moss. From the start, I swore I'd go farther and see more than anyone before me."
Tam nudged Ai, smirking. "He's just bragging. Probably saw it from a passing ship."
Telo snorted. "Just wait…"
Yena waved as they approached the Redfox camp. "Did you spear some fleet fish today, Dem?"
Dem grinned. "Four," he said, taking a seat on a cushion beside her.
Ai and Tam settled nearby, passing a canteen of highberry as the rest of the Redfox clan gathered for the evening's telling.
"Walk with me tomorrow?" Yena asked quietly.
Dem nodded. "After spear training."
Her freckled face flushed, her smile shy but pleased. "I tried to find you earlier, but you'd disappeared."
"I was picking flowers for my family," Dem said.
Ai laughed. "Yada loved them. That was very sweet, dasai."
Yena and Dem talked easily, with Tam and Ai occasionally cutting in until Telo stood, clearing his throat theatrically.
"All right! Let's discuss my fourth month—when I visited the Great Beast Empire."
Instant silence fell over the camp.
Telo's Fourth Tale
"Marooned in the Independent Isles by the Pirate Queen," Telo began, his voice full of practiced rhythm, "I followed her advice and made landfall a few days later. From there, I worked for passage as a deckhand aboard a ship called The Tempest, captained by the beautiful merchant queen, Beru."
"You meet a lot of queens for one Massat," someone heckled from the crowd.
Laughter rippled. Telo pointed at the offender. "You there—one more word, and I'll ban you from the telling!"
The crowd chuckled, and the heckler raised both hands in surrender.
"As I was saying…" Telo continued smoothly. "The Tempest was bound west toward three uncharted islands. But once again, fate had other plans."
He took a swig of highberry before continuing, his voice dropping low.
"Three days out, a storm rose from nowhere. The wind elemental we'd hired to fill our sails suddenly screamed that the Union was attacking her—and then she collapsed, dead before anyone could help. When an elemental dies, their last breath becomes wind, and that's what happened. A monstrous squall fell upon us."
"The ship tossed like a leaf. Waves broke over the deck, and our captain—our brave merchant queen—stood fast at the helm, steering into every wave for two days and nights. When the storm finally died, she collapsed where she stood."
"I spotted land to the south. Thinking we'd drifted north, we set our course for the port."
Telo paused for another drink, drawing the audience in.
"We'd just entered the bay when the captain woke. One look at the harbor and she turned white as ash. She tried to reverse course—but it was too late. Within half an hour, we were surrounded. Beastmen, flying the banner of the Duke of Carnate, northernmost state of the Great Beast Empire."
"Our ship was seized, our crew taken ashore to the city of Cabaro."
He spread his hands in mock regret. "And thus ended my fourth month—and my fourth telling."
A mix of boos and laughter rose from the crowd before applause took over. Telo bowed deeply, basking in their cheers.