“An impromptu gathering is often the best.’’
“Well, tomorrow’s Sixthday, so no matter how tired you are in the morning, by midday you can rest.’’
“I can,” said Demetrius. “And he can”—he pointed to Rondar—“but you can’t. Didn’t you check the roster?’’
“No.”
“You’ve got kitchen duty all day, sunrise until after last meal.’’
Talon sighed. “So much for a revel tonight.’’
“Well, it’s a good idea, even if you’re not going to be there,” said Demetrius.
“Yes,” Rondar agreed.
“Thanks. I think of it, and I can’t go.’’
“You can go,” said Demetrius. “Just don’t stay up too late.’’
“Wine,” said Rondar as he sat up and began dressing.
“Yes, we’ll need wine.’’
Demetrius looked at Talon, who grinned at him. “You’re the one in the kitchen tonight.’’
“If Besalamo catches me in the cellar again, he’ll cook and eat me.’’
“Taldaren,” observed Rondar with a nod.
Talon laughed. Besalamo was a magician from another world—a fact that had taken Talon some time to fully assimilate—and looked almost human, save for two fins of white bone that ran fore and aft along his skull in place of hair. And he had bright red eyes. “I think he started that rumor about Taldaren eating boys to keep us in line.’’
“You want to find out?” asked Demetrius.
“No, but I’m not the one who needs to get us some wine. Without the wine the girls won’t come down to the lake.’’
“They might, if you asked them,” suggested Demetrius.
Talon flushed at the suggestion. It was becoming clear that as the new boy he was the object of much curiosity among the girls on the island.
In total, there seemed to be about fifty students on the island, and after taking away those who weren’t human, there were sixteen young men, from Talon’s age up to their midtwenties, and fourteen girls, aged fourteen to twenty-two.
“Alysandra,” said Rondar.
“Yes,” Demetrius agreed. “Invite her. If she says yes, all the boys will come, and if all the boys are down by the lake, then all the girls will come as well.’’
Talon’s face and neck turned deep crimson.
“Blushing,” said Rondar with a laugh as he pulled on his trousers.
“Leave him alone, you useless barbarian. If we’re going to get the girls to the lake tonight, we need Talon to ask Alysandra.”
Talon gave Demetrius a dubious look but said nothing. He had no problem talking to Alysandra, as some of the other boys seemed to have, yet he had come to the conclusion that she was totally uninterested in him. Between her polite but unenthusiastic responses to him over the last few weeks whenever circumstances brought them together, and the near awe with which the boys regarded her, he had decided early on that any pursuit of her was a waste of time.
Still, if Demetrius was willing to risk the cook’s wrath by pilfering some wine, and even Rondar was excited at the prospect of the gathering, Talon felt he’d best do his part.
He finished dressing and set out to find Alysandra.
The fire burned brightly as the young men and women of the island sat in pairs or threes talking quietly. Except Rondar, who sat slightly away from Demetrius and a girl whose name Talon didn’t know.
Talon was surprised to see nearly fifty people around the fire. The two bottles of wine Demetrius had produced were augmented by a large cask of ale someone else had purloined from the storage shed, and a few of the boys were already showing the effects of too much drink. He helped himself to a goblet and walked a little away from the group.
Talon enjoyed wine, but ale held little interest for him. The honeyed drinks of his childhood were but a dim memory and he had been denied the fermented honey the men drank. He stood there, on his own, swishing the pungent liquid around his mouth, savoring its taste.
“Why are you alone?’’
Talon looked up and found a slender dark-haired girl named Gabrielle standing next to him, a light shawl around her shoulders. She had startling blue eyes and a warm smile.
“Hardly alone,” Talon said.
She nodded. “Yet you always seem . . . apart, Talon.’’
Talon glanced around and said nothing.
“Are you waiting for Alysandra?”
It was as if the girl had read his mind; and on this island, that was a distinct possibility! Gabrielle’s smiled broadened. “No . . . yes, I suppose so. I mentioned this gathering to her before supper and”—he waved his hand at the other girls—“apparently she mentioned it to a number of the girls.’’
Gabrielle studied his face, then said, “Are you yet another of those who have fallen under her spell?’’
“Spell?” asked Talon. “What do you mean?’’