Ava watched General Campos with curiosity, as he mingled amongst the festival-goers, chatting with a Faltari chieftain, then, with Urla and Ruan. The young shaman came by alone and exchanged brief words with the general, though Malik’s eyes kept glancing toward a girl across the meadow, who never looked his way.

Curious, Ava thought.

Ava had seen the two slip away for a time, and was tempted to follow. The girl exuded irritation, though she went willingly nonetheless. But they’d been moving quickly, and Ava knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up.

That feeling she’d had when she first encountered Malik lingered still. An unsettling feeling. It must have been some form of shaman’s power, brushing up against her spirit.

The shaman moved on, vanishing into the crowds, and now, Campos spoke with Lady Thenius. Next, an Ytani trader.

The general even had a friendly exchange with a Chardonian swindler, and if that wasn’t a sign of the strange magic permeating this festival, Ava didn’t know what was. The pleasantries were surely an act—the hostility between Atticans and Chardonians stretched back centuries—but both Campos and the swindler played their parts flawlessly for a full five minute conversation, nodding and laughing at the other’s jokes and jibes.

All around, strange peoples intermingled and feasted and drank and danced. There was beauty in it. At its root, this possibility was the same that drove her own family’s ambitions, she supposed.

Lady Thenius’s daughter, Iriana, came by to speak with Ava for a few moments, only out of courtesy, for she swiftly moved on, flirting with the fourth Attican youth, Marcus, as well as a reserved Valgish boat hand, who’d taken a liking to her. Iriana was playing the two of them, whether for the pleasure of the game or some other reason, Ava couldn’t quite deduce.

Evening stretched into night. Radiant swaths of stars brushed across the inky night canvas, and Ava remained at the edge of things, watching and listening, trying to get a read on the true essence of this island. It held secrets she longed to unravel. She could feel power here that did not exist elsewhere. Perhaps it was the free-flowing relationship the Faltari maintained with magic. Or perhaps it was more. Something native to the land itself. But the Other held so many secrets they were only beginning to unravel, and mostly in secret societies, or else, across the breadth of the world.

Mum would’ve been able to sense it, she thought absently, then swiftly suppressed the swell of emotions that threatened to rise at the thought of her mother. It was an uncharacteristic lapse on her part.

Ava spotted the elder shaman across the crowd. Joren exuded power and strength, but there was fear buried in his spirit too, especially when near his son. She hadn’t noticed the two together since the evening festivities had begun. Malik was nowhere to be seen now.

Her own father spent much time sharing mead with the merchants, especially the Faltari.

“Do they know?”

Ava turned. She hadn’t felt the intruding presence at all. But she recovered quickly, smiling at the young shaman, as Malik took a place beside her.

“Know what?” she asked demurely.

“I sensed what you were the moment you stepped off that ship,” Malik said. “Thought Atticans had strict rules about accessing what you call the Other.”

Ava bristled at being found out so easily. She smiled. “Your own gifts must be great, indeed, shaman. None of my schoolmasters know my affinities.”

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“You take tests, don’t you?”

“The Arcanist school tests all academy students, but they assume the test-takers are hoping to follow the Path of the Other. I failed by intent.”

“Attican magic is focused on material things.”

“Alchemy and artifices, yes.”

“But you focus all your hish on minds.”

“Focus my what?”

“The breath of the gods, what you call the Other. That breath flows freely here. It’s invigorating for you, that’s easily to tell. I’m sure you’re much better at hiding it back home.”

Ava flashed a smile. She liked this shaman. “You notice much. I’m Ava, by the way. Ava Lucila Rykus.”

“Malik Jorensein,” he said.

“Yes, I caught that when we arrived.”

“Why do you hide your gifts?”

She shrugged. “The thought of sitting at desks, studying runespells and crafting channelers all day… it bores me.”

Predictably, the shaman slipped a glance at her cane, but said nothing.

“I suppose,” said Malik, “nothing can compare with the lure of being a Dragonmount, can it?”

Ava pursed her lips and held his gaze. His blue eyes danced in the torchlight at the edge of the field.

“You want something,” Ava said.

Malik hesitated.

“Why were you speaking with Campos?” she continued.

“Merely exchanging pleasantries,” said Malik, though a flit of the eyes gave him away.

“Yes, shaman’s duties, I’m sure. Yet, you’ve been gone for much of the celebration. Something tells me you’ve been distracted. Something to do with that blonde huntress you ran off with earlier?”

Malik blanched momentarily.

“Yes,” said Ava. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. Just a foreigner with a faint affinity for sorcery, reading too much into things. And if that were true, you’d walk away. But even though you like to be the one with the upper hand when it comes to sensing such things, I think whatever it is you want is too important. So what is it, and what’s your offer?”

“My offer?”

“This is a trading festival, isn’t it?”

Malik huffed, glanced away, then looked her straight in the eyes, stepping closer. “When your ship leaves tomorrow morning, I want to be on it. Me and my friend, Riese. The blonde huntress. Is that possible?”

“Possible after Campos already dismissed you? Certainly difficult, at the very least. So what’s the offer?”

“I’ll teach you to wield your magic like a Faltari.”

Ava raised a brow. “And in exchange, you want me to use my gifts on the general?”

Malik glanced around for a moment. He lowered his voice. “I am forbidden from using my gifts to manipulate my own desires.”

“But I’m a bloody southerner with no such scruples, is that it?” Ava’s eyes grew wide, then, she smirked. “All right, have it your way, but the first lesson starts right now.”

***

Ava and Malik wandered from the crowd separately. Malik paused to speak with village elders and a young Saber couple who’d just been matched.

Ava paused momentarily once she reached the other side of the festival, where colored canopies and strings of small Beirusian paper lanterns were stretched between poles of wood.

Ruan spotted her and hurried over, nearly spilling his ample mug of ale. “Where are you going off to?”

Ava glared at him. “Wherever I please, thank you very much. Did you find anything of use?”

“The exchange has already been made,” said Ruan. “We’ll sail at first light.”

The eggs won’t travel by sea, surely, Ava thought. But the general hasn’t been back to the ship. And the Lady Knight could never have smuggled a godblade ashore. Or could she?

“We need to be the first to see them, Ruan.”

“She said you’d say that, you know.”

“Who, your mother?”

“She’s wary of your low-blood ambition.”

“Your mother is friends with an advisor to the emperor. You’re son of a Dragonmount. Some of us weren’t born with such connections.”

She impressed a hint of guilt with her magic.

Ruan Pelasius straightened up, frowning. “I didn’t say I agreed with her.”

“There’s always at least two eggs. Maybe neither of us will bond, but we could at least have the greatest chance, you and I.”

Ruan nodded. “I overheard Campos say he’ll be sleeping back on the ship.”

“Then, we should too. Perhaps we could ride back with him.”

“Only he and the Lady Knight will be permitted on the ship tonight.”

Shit, Ava thought.

“Maybe we could be first to the ship in the morning?” Ruan ventured.

No, that will be too late. Everything hinges on being first contact with the eggs.

“Thank you, Ruan. You’re a good friend. Go back and enjoy the festival.”

“Are you sure you don’t want company?”

“You know me,” Ava said softly. “I like my privacy.”

Ruan nodded to her. “We’ll get our eggs, Ava. I’m sure of it.”

He returned to the festivities, and Ava hobbled away from the tents and into the copse of snowpine that encroached on the village.