The clash of wooden spears rang through the makeshift training ground as Dem flowed through his drills. Sweat beaded across his shoulders, his body moving with the rhythm of practice. He had already spent the morning teaching Sybasi techniques, and now, as promised, he was learning the spear under Huntmaster Dern.
Those who knew the Huntmaster would've been surprised by how often he smiled that hour. Passing on his craft to someone eager—and talented—was a pleasure he hadn't experienced. Dem's command of footwork and uncanny balance made him a quick study; the boy absorbed instruction like a sponge soaking up rain.
"That's it for today." Dern placed a broad hand on Dem's shoulder. "Good start. You're progressing fast."
Dem grinned, wiping sweat from his brow before taking a long pull from his canteen. When he lowered it, he noticed the crowd. Dozens of onlookers ringed the training area—mostly Swiftwind clansfolk, though a few others lingered near the edge. "Were they there the whole time?"
Dern chuckled. "Since the second set of drills. Word travels fast."
Among the watchers, three young women stood apart, half curious, half competitive. One broke from the group with decisive grace and strode toward him.
"Would you like to walk with me, Dem?"
Rave's pale skin had healed completely, and her blue eyes held an easy warmth.
Dem nodded. "Can we stop by the river first? Been training since dawn." His tone was casual, but the fatigue under it was real. Knife practice, then spear—his muscles hummed with pleasant ache.
"We could swim if you like," Rave said, though her eyes flicked past him toward the other two girls approaching.
"Hey, Dem." Yena's red hair caught the sunlight, freckles bright across her nose. "You did amazing out there."
Teya Bearclaw crossed her arms, her sleeveless shirt framing her powerful build. "No one would guess you were a novice."
Rave's smile sharpened. "We're walking together," she said smoothly, catching Dem's wrist and tugging him toward the outer path that circled the Gathering.
Dem laughed, half-apologetic. "Let's talk later, all right?"
The girls' laughter followed him as he let Rave lead the way. She looped her arm through his, slowing to match his easy stride. The trail beneath their feet was already packed firm by days of use—a social artery for the clans, full of laughter and low conversation drifting on the wind.
"I didn't thank you properly for saving me," Rave said after a moment.
"You did," Dem replied. "Twice. Once with words—and once when you froze my dagger." He cast her a sidelong glance. "That's plenty."
Rave bit her lip, fighting a smile. "Right… but I meant to thank you properly."
Dem blinked, uncertain whether she was teasing. "All right," he said simply, shifting his spear to his free hand. The polished shaft clicked softly against the packed earth, keeping time with his steps.
Dem slowed his pace as the river came into view. He wasn't the only one drawn to the water—half a dozen tribals were already there, laughing and splashing in their undergarments, their clothes folded neatly on the shore. The scent of sun-warmed grass and wet stone mixed with the sound of playful chaos.
"Dasai!"
Telo's shout carried across the river just before he dunked a companion and fled shamelessly. The drenched boy surfaced, sputtering and shaking his hair like a soaked dog while everyone laughed.
Dem grinned. "Dosu—do you know Rave?"
Telo waded toward shore, water sheeting off his arms. "We haven't spoken, but I've seen her around."
"Telomere's the one who found me," Dem told Rave. "Helped me catch up to the Gathering. We shared a campfire on the trail. Who knows—without him, I might've turned back to Thaigmaal."
Rave's brows lifted slightly. You didn't call someone dosu or dasai unless you considered them family. "It's nice to meet you, Telo."
"Same here." Telo grinned before turning to Dem. "By the way—you were looking for yellow flowers for Yada. They grow in the foothills east of here."
Dem was already stripping off his shirt and pants, setting them in a tidy pile before wading into the shallows. The clear water glinted around him, cool and inviting.
For someone smaller than most his age, Dem's build was wiry and defined, all lean strength earned from years of surviving in the streets. His body bore a map of scars—some faint, others fresh—but he moved like a creature who trusted his own skin. He dove forward and resurfaced a few moments later, slicking back his dark hair with a satisfied sigh.
"I should have asked if you could swim," Rave teased, stepping gingerly into the water. Her pale skin glowed against the clear surface—Frostridge blood always stood out in the Gathering.
"It's only deep in the middle," Telo said, ignoring the glance she shot him as he splashed in behind Dem.
Dem's eyes went unfocused. A memory rose—dark, sudden, and unwelcome.
Midnight, Deadman's Bridge
Night in Thaigmaal had a way of holding its breath, heavy with rot and silence. Another body splashed into the black waters below the bridge. The current swallowed the sound, dragging it down into the filth of the Thaig River.
Deadman's Bridge—where the unwanted disappeared. Garbage, sewage, secrets, and corpses all swept away by the same hungry current.
"You sure it was Brim?" Rat sprinted past the twins, bare feet slapping against the slick cobbles.
"Yes," one twin called after him. "The Main Street boys grabbed him near the market. Clubs, knives—their usual. He's dead, Rat."
Rat didn't slow. The bridge loomed ahead, shrouded in mist. He reached the railing just in time to see the splash. A shape drifted in the black water.
"No…" he whispered, scanning desperately for movement.
Then—an arm. Brim's arm, rising weakly from the current before sinking again.
Rat dove.
The water hit him like a wall, filthy and cold. He kicked down through the murk, hands groping blindly until they found skin. The current shoved him sideways, dragging him beneath the bridge, toward the wide-barred grate that lined the city wall.
When he surfaced, gasping, Brim was limp in his arms. The twins had followed, scrambling down the slick stones and scaling the iron grate to meet him. They formed a living chain—Rat clinging to one, the other reaching down to haul them all toward safety.
Together, they dragged Brim ashore and carried him through the twisting alleys back to their hidden den.
Three weeks later, the same boys would sell him to the hunters for a bounty.
"Dem?"
Rave's voice pulled him back to the present.
He blinked, the sounds of laughter and rushing water replacing the echo of that black river. For a heartbeat, he just stood there, chest rising and falling, the memory fading like smoke.
"I'm fine," he said finally, rubbing cool water over his face as though to wash it away. Then he smiled faintly. "And yes, I can swim."
Rave smiled suddenly, tilting her head, her voice dropping into something soft and teasing.
"And here I thought you were shy."
Dem blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
He glanced at Telo for help, but his friend was busy taunting his companions across the river, making a gesture that would've been rude if not for the laughter that followed.
Rave stepped a little closer, her pale features flushing pink. She jumped, then laughed nervously and shook her head.
"Dem… there are too many people around."
He started to reply—but froze. The hair on his arms lifted. "What is that?"
Something brushed his leg. Then again, higher, slick and cold. He reached into the water instinctively, his fingers grazing something smooth and slimy. Definitely not a person.
Rave shrieked as something slid past her hip. Her face flushed crimson as she caught Dem's eyes—too far away for him to be the culprit.
"There's something in the water," Dem warned, his tone sharpening. The air around him seemed to thicken, his eyes brightening.
"Dem…" Rave's hand found his shoulder, half for balance, half for comfort as she followed him out of the water.
A chorus of startled yelps followed as the laughter around them died. One after another, tribals scrambled for the shore, splashing wildly.
Dem ignored the rush of feet behind him. He pulled his spear from where it rested in the sand and waded back into the shallows. His sharp eyes swept the rippling surface. A flash—then his arm blurred, thrusting downward. The spear sliced through water and came up empty.
Again.
And again.
On the third strike, the point met resistance. He drove the weapon deeper, leaning his weight into it, and then levered it free. Water exploded upward in a spray of pink and brown.
"Fleet fish!" Telo shouted, already grabbing his own spear and splashing forward. "Come on!"
Dem lifted the flailing creature high. Its mottled top was light brown, nearly invisible against the riverbed, but its belly shimmered a brilliant pink.
"Hold it still," Rave said, stepping in close. She gripped the shaft, slid the fish off the point, and tossed it onto the sand. "See if you can get another!"
Dem nodded and turned back to the water, his grin flashing briefly before he disappeared into the shallows.
Behind him, Rave splashed her face, her expression twisting between relief and mortification.
"I thought Dem was getting handsy," she muttered under her breath. "But it was a damn fish…"
Before long, more than two dozen fleet fish were stacked along the banks, their slick bodies glinting pink and brown in the sun. The laughter of triumphant hunters carried over the water, and soon even older tribals—including Huntmaster Dern—were wading in with spears, determined to claim their share.
Dem watched as Rave borrowed a woven basket from one of her clansmen and began stacking their catch. "Are fleet fish any good?"
"Very good," she said smugly.
Dem grabbed the basket from her hands, looping its strap around his spear before slinging it over his shoulder. "Even your clan leader's here now."
Rave smiled, falling into step beside him and looping her arm through his. "Fleet fish usually migrate earlier in the season. Finding them this late is rare—our good luck, really."
"We'll split them," Dem said, glancing toward the river where more tribals were arriving. "Won't they run out soon?"
Rave shook her head, sunlight flashing off her damp hair. "Once they start running, the river clogs with them. This is either the tail end or the start of the migration. Given the season, I'd bet on the latter."
"I see…" Dem waved to the lone guard near the Swiftwind entrance as they returned to camp. "That was fun."
Rave leaned closer, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before dividing the fish evenly. "Next time, if you want to walk with me, it's your turn to ask."
Dem tilted his head. "Is that how it works?"
"Of course." Her smile lingered before she turned toward her own clan's camp, basket in hand.
Ai looked up as Dem approached, juggling an armful of slippery fleet fish.
Her face brightened. "In here, dasai!" She grabbed a cooking pot and held it open as he dropped the fish inside.
Dem followed her toward the central fire. "Are you going to prep them?"
Ai shook her head, laughing. "Yada will. She says I over-season everything."
"I like extra seasoning," Dem said earnestly.
"Right?" Ai slung an arm over his shoulders. "So, what should we do now?"
"I want to pick some flowers for Yada. Telo said there were yellow ones east of here."
"Then let me get my bow, and we'll both go." Ai's grin widened. "Yada will be very happy."