Alonza went on after his dramatic pause. “But I think today, we can do it anyhow. Our little brother—big brother to some of you,” Alonza gestured to the cluster of teenage siblings, “Is off on his first great adventure as a scout. You worked for this, Dags.” Alonza locked eyes with him, smiling. “We’re proud of you. Safe journey and fast return, brother!”
“Safe journey!” everyone echoed, raising their tankards and drinking deep. Dagan surprised himself by flushing a little. He took a long swallow of strong mead to steady himself.
“Your turn,” Innan whispered.
Oh. Yes, everyone was looking at him. He cleared his throat, threw his braid back over his shoulder, then said, “Thank you, friends—and yes, even siblings.”
Laughter swept through the little crowd. Many of them had been at the winery the other night. More still had tried to find him throughout the week, when he’d been hiding behind his siblings and their daily chores. He found that, thanks to the downtime he’d given himself, he was incredibly grateful to see them all, tonight.
“Thank you for coming to see me off. It’s been a long and difficult path, punctuated by many stumbles and triumphs on my part, but here I stand, a scout. Thanks to our mother and father,” he raised his glass to them, where they stood at one of the market tables smiling benevolently, “for believing I could do it, even when Alonza didn’t.”
Alonza made a little bow, and his partner and fellow apprentice Verder, a dark and doe-eyed boy called Demetrius, swatted at his arm playfully.
“And thanks to all my siblings, who never let me forget I was still just their brother even if I aspired to a lofty position.” He raised his tankard.
Nine shouts came back at him; with Alonza home for the celebration, it was all of them together for the first time in a long time.
“And to my friends, who kept me in drink and made sure I never went to bed lonely!”
Far more than nine shouts went up for that one, even if most of the siblings rolled their eyes. And Innan—Dagan didn’t even need to look at them to know.
“I’ll be very lonely for the next moon or so, so I appreciate it more than I can say,” Dagan finished, putting his free hand over his heart and making a little bow of his own. “Now, drink up, because I can’t take all this with me!”
The company fell to chattering, their laughter filling the fire-lit clearing. Innan raised their glass to him, mouthing, “Nicely done.” As they were pulled away by some of the younger siblings, Dagan sat back, ass against a table, watching the swirl of everyone he knew and loved beneath the towering treetops of their home settlement. This market had been the center of his world forever, whether it was swarming with weekly commerce, nightly drinking, or revelers for a full moon celebration.
He didn’t think he’d miss it, precisely. But he was taking the opportunity to soak it in as much as possible, all the same.
Mina sidled up to him, carrying a clay jug that sloshed with mead. “Remember the forest gods and sharpen your knives,” she said, as she refilled his cup. It was an old saying, one everyone used from time to time. While it sounded like a warning of sinister happenings, it could be used for any occasion where readiness was paramount, from the harvest to a foot race.
It made Dagan smile. “Thank you. And hopefully they won’t need to be too sharp.”
“I’ve seen you in enough wrestling matches and archery shoots. You’ll be fine,” she assured him.
The air between them felt different, somehow. Her words seemed, well, not quite like an apology, but something close. Like she wanted him to know they were still friends, even if they wanted different things out of life.
Or maybe that was what he wanted it to mean. Either way, Dagan was happy to have it. He took a long, sweet drink of fizzy mead, then set down his mug. “Thank you, precious girl. Now, it looks like Tiber’s getting his fiddle ready. Will you dance the first one with me?”
They danced, laughing with the others, some of whom were already too drunk to keep up with Tiber’s spirited bowing. Dagan let himself forget to think. Music was one thing he would certainly miss, while he was wandering the Heart Wood alone. Even Mina seemed to relax into the moment after the first few measures, clapping and skipping daintily, trading shouts of encouragement with the other dancers.
He kissed her hand as they bowed to each other at the end of the jig. As their eyes met, Dagan thought with a little pang that no, Mina would not be keeping his bed warm tonight. It was for the best and they both must know it.
When he turned from her, this thought foremost in his mind, he almost ran into Thad. “Councilor!”
“The man of the hour.” Thad reached out to clasp him on the shoulder. “Haven’t seen you around the settlement since that first night.”
“I’ve been keeping quiet.” Dagan gave him a wry smile.
“Tonight’s a night for getting loud, I think.” Thad laughed and lifted the mug in his hand. “To a productive trip and a safe return, Dagan. Black Walnut Grove Conservancy is proud of you. As is the Council.”
Thankfully, Dagan was already flushed from dancing, so he didn’t embarrass himself too badly. He just bowed his head slightly and put his hand to his heart. “Thank you.”
“Talk to your brother tonight, will you?” Thad jerked his chin in the general direction of Alonza.
Dagan frowned. “What is it?”
“Enjoy the party first. But make sure you catch him, yes?” Thad patted his shoulder one more time, then was spun around by one of the dancers grabbing for his hand and pulling him into the melee of rhythmically convulsing limbs in the square.
“That’s not ominous,” Inann said from behind him.
“I was just thinking the same thing.” Dagan turned to face them and held out one hand. “Care to dance, my dear?”
Innan laughed, a low, melodic sound much like their sweet voice, and said, “I was just coming to claim you.”
“How does our music compare to the stones you usually listen to?” he joked.
“Your brother plays the fiddle almost as well as the earth itself sings,” they replied with a half-smile. They fell into the paired dance, swooping and turning, occasionally connecting with their hands to exchange a moment’s banter.
“He’s modest to a fault, too, unlike some of us,” Dagan said the next time they came together. Yes, he meant Alonza, but also himself.
Innan smiled, eyes crinkling. “I almost wish it was next moon, already, Dags. Just to hear about your first adventure.”
Well, that was an interestingly abrupt change of subject. Then again, when they emerged from their cave to socialize, Innan sometimes forgot social graces. Hence them thinking people found them weird and off-putting. Dagan asked, “Do you?”
“What did Mina have to say?”
So it was that kind of night. Dagan shook his head, “When you ask like that, I think you already know.”
“She’ll find a nice someone to settle down with. It’s the brooding instinct; don’t feel bad.” Innan spun, their leathers creaking, their shirt falling askew to reveal a collarbone glistening with sweat. They really were exquisite at all times, but especially when there was music playing. “It’s time to find yourself in the forest instead of someone else’s bed. Enjoy it.”
