Like the mid-day meal, dinner was held in the main hall with what looked like the village in its entirety. The fare was basic, but their heavy use of magic and the physical demands of the day made even the blandest food taste like it was fit for a king. In contrast to the earlier meal, instead of sitting at one of the many tables among the villagers, they were led to sit at the main table as guests of honor with the Headman and the village elders. As custom demanded, each of the villagers brought a dish, offering it to Quinten, Ronan, and Cedric first, as a thank you for their service. It didn’t take long for the three to grow full, even when they took as small a portion as they could, and not give offense. They were each happy to see the line of food bearers start to dwindle.

They made polite conversation with the elders and headman, asking one last time if there was anything else the village truly needed before they left in the morning. Headmen Carter assured them that they had done far more than expected and the village already felt indebted to them. The praise made them uncomfortable, but after all they’d done that day. Agreeing that they’d made a difference hardly felt boastful.

After everyone had eaten their fill, plates and platters were removed before the tables were pushed back and instruments were brought out. The trilling of a flute and the bright sound of pipes filled the air and tambours beat a tune on their leather wrapped wooden frames. One by one, the three young men were pulled from their seats and into the chaos filling the newly created dance floor.

They spent the next couple of hours in a swirl of skirts and ale as they were led around the hall by their partners. Quinten found himself relieved that Alice hadn’t made an appearance. He didn’t have the energy to deal with her advances. The remembered feeling from when she’d touched his thigh sent a small shiver down his spine. He was enjoying himself, and would rather avoid any more unpleasantness. His luck continued to hold for another hour or so, before the blonde-headed woman made her presence known. Popping out from nowhere just as his current dance partner, a lovely woman in her late forties, named Ilma. Who had warned him half a dozen times that were he a few decades older or her a few younger, he’d have been hers for the evening, returned him to the high table.

“May I tempt you with a dance, my lord?” Alice asked, looking up at him with a flushed face that set off her light green dress and made her eyes shine.

Groaning internally, Quinten couldn’t think of a polite way to decline without offending the woman and possibly the elders still seated at the table. He hadn’t turned down a single request that evening and felt that doing so now would be noticed. Quinten took a swig of ale, frowning at the bitter taste as he finished off the remainder of his cup. Reluctantly, he held out his arm for her to take.

Throughout the evening, Quinten had been practicing his ability to control the emotions he let in when in contact with someone. The shock he’d received from Alice earlier highlighted an area he still needed to improve on. His numerous dance partners were the perfect opportunity to work on his control. Taking Alice’s hand, Quinten created a slight opening in the mental wall he’d erected to keep out unwanted feelings, and her emotions immediately started trickling in.

Is she nervous..? Or is that anxiety? Quinten thought, confused by what he was feeling. It was so different from the excitement, attraction, and lust he’d felt earlier in the day. If he didn’t know better. He’d think it was a different person.

The carrying pitch of the pipes rang throughout the hall, and the tabor beat the cadence for a fast-paced chain dance. Their connection broke as they unclasped hands. Quinten following the leader of the dance as Alice slipped a hand around the belt at his back. All too aware of her touch, he was glad he wasn’t wearing his sword. He, Cedric, and Ronan having managed to drop off their gear in the guest lodge before dinner. Quinten snaked his way around the villagers running by in the second chain. His vision blurred slightly during the next portion, a series of twists, turns, and spins that put him back in contact with Alice.

His head oddly light, Quinten tried to process what she was feeling. She’s definitely worried about something, but I don’t think it’s me—

“Are you having fun, my lord? It’s not every night you get to experience a village celebration.” Alice called over the music, interrupting Quinten's thoughts.

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He looked into her eyes, unable to find any of the emotions he felt—but couldn’t see. Instead, a pair of bright green eyes sparkled in the lantern light. Finally, he replied with an unbalanced smile. “We had a ball at the Academy not long ago, but it turned into a… long night. This has been a very nice way to end the evening.”

She bobbed her head as they wormed their way through the last leg of the dance, their chain coming to an end. Quinten began to wonder if he’d drank or danced too much when his fellow dancers started going in and out of focus. He unwound his interlocked arm from Alice’s once they cleared the dance floor. Searching the gathering, he met his friend’s gaze from across the hall. Quinten indicated with his head toward the doors, letting Ronan know he was ready to leave. He nodded and started making his way through the throng of people. Quinten assumed he’d gone to grab Cedric and, in his distraction, turned too quickly, nearly knocking Alice over when she’d slid in close.

“Are you ready to leave?” She asked, turning into him to give a better view of her cleavage on display.

“I am,” Quinten said, with focused enunciation. “Ronan is grabbing Cedric and we are going to call it a night.” He tried to shift around her, but she moved in step and managed to stay beside him.

“Did you think about my offer? I promise, it will be a night you’ll never forget.”

Coming to a stop, Quinten stared at the woman. Something is wrong with this one—by the stars—something is wrong with me. He realized with a sway, even his thoughts growing sluggish. Reaching for his Gift, Quinten shoved it through his system in an attempt to fight off whatever poison he’d been given.

With his mind a little clearer, and his movements slightly more under his control, he said, intentionally slurring his words. “I’m sorry, Alice. Appreciate the offer, I really do. But I’m not feeling well. Too much ale, I think? If you’d excuse me, have a good rest of your night.”

He started forward again, coming to a stop when she slipped in front of him. “Are you sure, my Lord? You’ve never had someone like me before. I promise, you’ll wake up tomorrow a new man.”

Quinten could feel his gorge rising, either due to her words, or from the poison his Gift was working to cleanse.

Something is wrong.

Stumbling past the woman, he ignored her question, instead focusing on keeping his dinner down while he shambled away. He’d made it twenty paces when Alice called. “You’re staying at the guest lodge, aren’t you?”

Quinten continued to ignore her. He managed to turn a corner before violently throwing up everything he’d ate or drank in the last several hours. Using the wall of the building for support, he continued to their quarters, where he hoped Cedric and Ronan would meet him soon.

He needed to warn them.

*****

Five Hours Earlier

Alice slipped out of the main hall, licking her lips as she imagined a fun night with the dashing mage—and if the stars bless me, and a babe comes from our meeting—the gold it’d bring!

A shiver ran through her as she hurried down the street. She’d have just enough time to smooth the wrinkles from her best dress. If she was quick enough, she might even have time to wash and style her hair.

She slipped through the plain wooden door and rushed over to the dented wooden box that held all of her prized possessions.

Lifting the lid, she yanked off the old worn sheet she’d draped across the interior of the box. Alice reached inside and carefully withdrew the faded, but still in decent condition, dress her mother made the year before she’d passed. Its green dye had lightened from a forest to a moss green that still set off her eyes, even if the color no longer matched perfectly.

A sound from behind had her standing up with a startled gasp. The hand clamping around her mouth forcefully muting the scream at what she saw.

Two figures, all in black with even their faces covered, stood before her.

“This her?” Came the rough voice of the man currently holding her jaw shut.

Alice closed her eyes, but it did nothing to stop the fear coursing through her. Shaking, she began to hyperventilate behind the man’s rough palm.

“Ease off. She’s no good to us if she’s dead.” Said one of the pair. This one’s voice sounded clearly female.

Grunting, the man loosened his hold slightly, enough that she could draw in a few ragged breaths.

“Wasn’t me.” Grunted the man. “She’s freaking out on her own. You sure she can handle it? She’s too scared to even talk to us, let alone do what we need.”

A laugh echoed through the small dwelling. “Oh, she can handle it alright. She’ll do anything for a price. Won’t you, Alice?”

She jerked at the mention of her name, but upon hearing that they needed her alive and at the mention of payment. Her mind fought its way through the fear.

Slowly, she settled. The big man behind her easing his grip when it became clear she wasn’t about to scream. After several deep breaths, she eventually forced out in a wavering voice.

“What do you want?”

The figure on the left sidled forward, bending over slightly so they were at eye-level. Her blue eye sparkling from behind the woman’s black mask, appearing like twinkling stars in a clear night sky.

“The same thing you do, little fox. We want the boy.”