The first round of the Gathering's archery contest began with stationary targets set at twenty-five and thirty meters. Each target was marked with three red rings bordered by white, and a black center no wider than a man's fist.
Dem hadn't expected much; until a week ago, he'd never even touched a bow. When his name was called, he lined up with the other novices—most of them close to his size. For once, he wasn't the shortest person in line, though only because his competitors ranged from eight to twelve.
After a few awkward shots and some decent groupings, he finished with a score of 45 out of 100.
Ai and Tam mobbed him the moment he stepped off the line, drawing amused stares from the crowd.
"That's middle of the pack, Dem!" Ai cheered, nearly bouncing. "As always, my dasai is best."
Tam hugged him tight. "You had several near misses. Give it a few more days, you'll be scoring in the sixties."
Dem grinned sheepishly as a few of the other contestants scratched their heads—apparently unsure how a pack of Swiftwind girls had turned a mediocre score into a small celebration.
Yena approached, her freckled face glowing. "I didn't advance, but I got my best score ever!"
Dem peeked at her scorecard—72—and smiled. "We should practice together. It's boring target shooting by myself."
Yena's smile brightened instantly. "Yeah, I'd like that."
They moved aside to watch as the rest of the rounds continued. Most of the older tribals breezed through the first test, clearing the advancement mark of 80. Tam and Reyka both posted perfect 100s, earning cheers from their clans.
Tam returned to them practically glowing. "Praise me," she demanded.
Dem and Ai exchanged an exaggerated look.
"Not bad," Ai said dryly.
"I've seen worse," Dem added.
Tam gasped in mock outrage before both of them tackled her into a laughing group hug.
Reyka passed just then, her blue eyes calm and unreadable. Tam stiffened immediately, but Reyka ignored her, directing her words instead to Dem.
"You must be good at everything."
Dem sensed no sarcasm and smiled politely. "I doubt forty-five is considered good."
Reyka's gaze sharpened. "You've probably shot fewer than a hundred arrows since you started. Most of us are in the tens of thousands by now."
"That many?" Dem asked, glancing toward Ai and Tam, who both nodded.
Reyka turned to go, the faint scent of wildflowers trailing after her. After a few steps, she paused and looked back. "Let's walk together sometime, Dem."
Before he could respond, Ai snorted. "My dasai has better things to do."
Tam flicked her fingers dismissively. "Shoo, Frostridge."
Reyka only smiled. "See you around, Dem." Then she walked off, unbothered.
Telo arrived just in time to catch the tail end of the exchange, his grin wide. "What's with you and Reyka, Tam?"
Tam rolled her eyes. "Every year I beat her, and every year she claims I cheated. The nerve of that girl."
Telo chuckled, waving his scorecard. "Eighty! That's right—I'm in the second round!"
"Good job, Telo," Ai said, patting his shoulder.
"Good job," Tam echoed with a wink.
Telo puffed out his chest. "Do you know how many people scored exactly eighty? Only me. You realize how hard that is?"
Ai squinted at him. "Are you saying you were trying to score eighty?"
"Exactly." He slung an arm around Dem's shoulders. "Come on, dasai. Let's make the rounds—meet a few interesting people."
"Hey!" Ai called, laughing as they walked away. "He stole my dasai!"
Tam crossed her arms, pretending to give it thought. "We're interesting, right?"
Ai grinned. "I think so."
**
"Really?" Yanz grinned, trading a glance with another Swiftwind named Gotti.
Telo snorted. "It's just a lock. My dasai could open it with his eyes closed."
Dem studied the cabinet—sturdy oak, heavy brass lock, the kind that dared you to try. "I suppose I could."
The three older tribals leaned forward in unison, grinning so wide it almost squeaked.
"You guys are terrible influences," Dem said dryly. "I'll need a small piece of metal."
Gotti raised a hand, proudly holding up a fishhook he'd painstakingly straightened. "Like this?"
"Exactly." Dem took it, inspecting the makeshift pick. "What's in here, anyway?"
"Celebratory items," Yanz said solemnly.
"Nectar from the gods," Gotti added with equal gravity.
Telo chuckled. "It's booze, dasai."
Dem sighed and knelt by the cabinet. "Of course it is."
A voice came from behind them. "Hey… what are you doing?"
They turned to find Reyka Frostridge standing a few paces away, arms crossed, one pale brow arched.
In perfect, guilty synchronization, all three older tribals chorused, "Nothing."
"Stealing booze," Dem said honestly, ignoring their horrified looks.
There was a soft click as the lock popped open under his fingers. The door swung wide, revealing several unmarked bottles gleaming in the lamplight.
Reyka reached in without hesitation, grabbing a dark bottle. "I'm in. Let's move to the riverbank—and lock that back up before we leave, Dem."
Dem smirked, taking a small bottle for himself. With a subtle flick of his hand, it vanished into his storage ring. He relocked the cabinet and followed the others out, the sound of stifled laughter echoing down the path.
"What the—?" Telo stopped short. Two figures were already occupying the "secret" riverbank spot Reyka had led them to.
"Relax, Telo," Reyka said easily. "They were waiting for me." She lifted the stolen bottle in triumph. "Mission accomplished."
Rave's expression went from sour to bright the moment she saw who was with Reyka. She'd been certain the night would end surrounded by loud-mouthed Whitehills, but instead, she was looking at Telo, Dem, and two other Swiftwinds. Not bad company.
"Where's Tier?" Shiara asked, arching a brow, though she didn't sound disappointed.
"Too hard to find," Reyka replied, dropping onto the grass. "Besides, these guys had booze."
"And charm," Telo added smoothly, sliding in beside Shiara. "Didn't I capture your circut two years ago?"
Shiara grinned. "No. I'd remember you."
Rave tugged Dem down beside her. "How'd you get roped into this?"
"I can pick locks," Dem said simply. He accepted the bottle making its rounds and took a cautious sip. Brandy—rough, but good. Warmth spread through his chest before he passed it to Rave.
She took a longer pull and nearly choked. "Whoa—strong."
"Take it slow," Dem warned, amused. "That'll hit harder than you think."
Rave coughed again, eyes watering but smiling through it. "Then we need games," she declared.
Later
Ai and Tam were still by the cookfires when the chorus of off-key singing drifted through the night.
They turned just in time to see Telo, Dem, Yanz, and Gotti staggering past the guards—arms slung over each other's shoulders, howling a well-known (and usually regrettable) tribal drinking song.
Ai stared, speechless. Tam rubbed her eyes like she couldn't trust them.
Dem detached himself from the group. Even drunk, he moved with a strange, effortless grace. "We were drinking, dasai," he said with a sheepish grin, wrapping Ai in a quick hug before turning to hug Tam too.
Ai wrinkled her nose at the smell of brandy. "I suppose a little mischief is to be expected."
"Yep… love you, dasai." Dem smiled warmly, ducking into the tent. His feet scuffling on the floor, followed by the sound of him collapsing into the soft fur of his blankets.
"Love you too," Ai murmured, her irritation melting away.
She turned to the others, hands on her hips. "You three took good care of him?"
Telo saluted clumsily. "Of course!" He turned—and promptly spun to keep his balance, sending Yanz and Gotti tumbling to the ground. "Oops… sorry, boys. Remember—don't mention the Frostridge girls."
He staggered off into the darkness, his wobbling stride looking half like a dance, half like a prayer for balance.
Ai and Tam stood in silence until he disappeared down the path. Then Ai raised an eyebrow at the two remaining culprits.
"You… hanging out with the enemy?" Tam asked, already holding a soup ladle like a weapon.
Gotti's eyes went wide. "No, no—nothing like that!"
He glanced sideways, realizing Yanz had already vanished.
Ai smirked. "Then I guess you'll spill everything, won't you, Gotti?"
The young man gulped audibly.