Malik’s nerves were on edge as he and Riese slipped amongst the trees near the wharf. They hid near the path—barely more than a game trail—that wound through the woods on the outskirts of Yerida village.

The docks, of course, were located just outside the village gates. The vast dirt-trodden square, where Malik and his father had greet the Attican party, bridged the space between the village and the forest. On most nights, gates on both ends of the village would be shut at sundown to keep out predators, but during the festival, the gates remained open, monitored by Faltari hunters.

A pair of longboats, lit by lanterns, made their way toward ships, ferrying leftover cargo from the day’s trade under the moonlit night. Some exchanges occurred between nations, but most of the actual trading was made with Faltara, and was finished before the evening’s celebrations began. Likely, these ferrymen were lowly servants doing the work while their masters feasted and enjoyed themselves. Or else, they belonged to the pleasure barges of Beirus, escorting traders and the occasional Faltari.

Malik had noted more than a couple traders slipping away with a painted woman, though of course, their garb remained modest on Faltari shores. He’d heard bawdy tales from a few boys a couple years his senior. Dragyrs were especially known for sending their newly come-of-age sons to the barges during the Festival of the Fading Sun. A sort of yearly taste of uhmskara, they claimed. Though, it was true Dragyrs rarely left their people. Though Malik doubted the reason was the annual bedding of a painted woman of Beirus.

I bet Aram Tulsein is one of them, Malik though spitefully, as he watched a man and woman pass through the gates, making their way toward the docks.

It was a false piety to an extent. Even a shaman’s son couldn’t help but be curious about the ways of the beautiful women of foreign lands, even if he sensed the practice was wrong. Yet, it was not forbidden, even among the Faltari.

From a few of his mother’s comments over the years, Malik was almost certain his own father had spent an evening with a courtesan before they met, during his Wandering. But every tale was always left vague, even from his mother.

“What are you thinking about?” Riese asked.

Malik felt his cheeks flush. “Just, er, wondering about the world beyond. You?”

They’d both been quiet for some time.

“I was thinking of my family,” she said. “I won’t even be able to say goodbye.”

In truth, Malik had given his own family little thought. He was angry and curious and restless, but not sorry about his decision. “We’ll be back in a year or two.”

“Maybe you will. If I actually `were to be a Dragonmount… I might never return.”

Malik nodded, chastened at his self-absorption yet again.

“What do you want?” he whispered.

“You’re a damn shaman, Malik. You know more than anyone that’s not how we’ve been taught make these kinds of decisions.”

“No. We’re taught to protect family and clan. More than anything else in the world. We’re taught to lie. About the Ascent. About what happens to the eggs. Who knows what else?”

“It’s that simple for you?”

Of course it wasn’t. Malik had never been more torn in his life, but the words he spoke were filled with a conviction he was trying to instill in himself as much as Riese. “We have to figure the truth out for ourselves. We have to find what we believe. I think that’s what uhmskara has always been about.”

“Another of our wise traditions,” said Riese with a huff of laughter. “I just wonder… maybe that’s exactly what Rayne Seversein thought too.”

Malik grimaced. “Maybe he was right to leave. Maybe he wasn’t a traitor like we were always taught. Maybe Rayne is just one more in a long history of lies meant to hide our heads in the sand.”

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“Maybe.”

“So, what is it you want? Because I can sense it’s not as torn as you’d like me to think.”

Riese put on the air of an affront, but settled into a smirk. “I’m wary about the Dragonmounts. The Empire. But I’ve always wanted to test myself. On the hunt. The Ascent. But ever since I first touched that egg, I’ve felt a restlessness I can’t explain.”

“The blood runs in your veins.”

They both spun to find Ava Rykus right behind them. Malik had been so focused on the gates and their conversation, he hadn’t even felt her resonance approach.

“I feel that, too,” said Ava. “I think I’ve always felt it. I just didn’t always know what it was. I’m meant to be Dragonmount. I’m going to be Dragonmount. And if what you say is true, I think you will be too. My father says the lottery is less about the dragons and more about the rider to begin with. You’ve already show the potential. But quiet now. Here comes the general.”

Ava pointed to the gates with her black cane, where Consul General Campos emerged from the village, accompanied by a manservant carrying a large rucksack. They were followed closely by several other men and women, members of the man’s personal guard, if Malik had to guess. They all carried packs and trunks. The Attican goods of trade from the day.

“Come along, but hang back a ways. He should see you, but not feel threatened. You know what he holds.”

Malik and Riese nodded.

The girl made her way toward the center of the square, right leg hitching only slightly as she walked.

Malik and Riese followed, emerging from the path and pausing at a wooden bench near the edge of the square.

They were too far to make out words, but Campos was shaking his head at Ava, who offered calm responses.

“What if he refuses?” Riese asked.

“He won’t,” said Malik.

“How could you know that?”

Malik focused his senses on the man’s spirit. No, he could not make out words, but he could gather the timbre of Campos’s resonance.

“He’s a politician,” Malik said. “His actions are a show that don’t match his spirit.”

Malik had got the same sense from the man at the exchange, the minute he realized there were three eggs this year, not one or two. Else, Malik never would have approached Ava with this proposition at all. Campos was wary of eggs falling into the wrong noble’s hands, even among his own party. And he held a deep fascination with the Faltari.

“You sensed that when you approached him the first time?”

Malik shrugged. “Perhaps. I was planting the seed. And I think this girl will make it grow.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I’m no master at these things,” Malik said. “I didn’t want to… you know… get your hopes up.”

Riese snorted. “If you were worried about that you never would have told me the truth about the egg.”

“Look.”

Malik and Riese both watched as Campos spoke briefly with his retinue of plain-clothed guards, and then, the men and women marched across the square, made their way to the docks, and began loading things onto multiple longboats. Only Campos, Ava, and the manservant remained.

Slowly, the three meandered across the square, strolling right past Malik and Riese, before pausing a short distance away, at the edge of the square. Campos turned, met their gaze, and smiled.

“Well, hurry along, will you?” the general said. “We must speak quickly, if you wish to speak at all.”

Malik and Riese rose from the bench and strode over. Before Malik could speak, the general led the way to the narrow path near the edge of the docks, which wended swiftly up through the woodlands outside the village. They paused at the entrance. Malik glanced back at the Attican guards, noting one powerful-looking woman with dark skin, who did not help load goods, and watched Campos and the others carefully.

“She’s a knight,” said Campos.

“A Knight of Caadron?” asked Riese.

Campos shrugged. “On this shore, she is only a trader, isn’t she?”

“Does she have her…” Riese began, then thought better of it.

Campos smiled. “Malik tells me that you, young Riese, wish for the opportunity to embrace your destiny. If what he says about your connection is true, this may be a possibility. Come, I’ve instructed my guards to allow us a half hour before I must depart. But, of course, such sensitive matters can’t be handled in the open air of the village square, now, can they?”

Malik nodded, realizing they were playing parts out here in the open. “Would you like to see our Unity Shrine, Lord General? It’s just up this path.”

“Lead the way, shaman.”

It was only a few minutes walk from the docks, up and over a small hill, across a stream that spilled into the fjord, and partway up the steep foothills that surrounded the village. Timber had been cleared from a shelf in the hillside long ago, leaving a flat expanse the breadth of a longhouse, with four enormous wooden poles carved with runes and paint, the heads of the four sacred beasts at the crest of each in the colors of the clans. Each looked both regal and fierce, sharp features and watchful eyes.

The heads were set so that they stood against a backdrop of granite, when seen from a distance, whether from a ship approaching the village, or from the fields outside the village itself. But here, they towered over them against a backdrop of stars.

Campos gazed up only briefly at the majestic heads, then knelt, and removed the pack from his shoulders. His manservant stood back, arms crossed. The man was built like a warrior, thick shoulders and thighs evident despite his loose-fitting pants and woolen tunic.

Malik, Riese, and Ava gathered around Campos as the general untethered the leather fastenings. Riese and Ava both drew a sharp breath as he removed the first egg.