“Hold still,” he said, reaching out toward her cup hand as though to brace it. “I don’t want to spill.”
Laughing uproariously, Pakito and Samtu came up behind Pa’alu. The cheerful giant slapped his brother on the back, a blow to rattle any man’s teeth. Pa’alu lost the amphora, which crashed to the ground and shattered, spraying them with sticky wine and clay shards. He also failed to catch hold of Nianki’s hand as she cursed the spilled wine and strode away to the lake to wash her hands and legs. Pa’alu turned on his merry brother and grasped the front of his sheepskin vest.
“Drunken idiot!” he hissed. Pakito, who could’ve flattened his brother with the back of one hand, blinked a few times and leaned back away from Pa’alu’s incomprehensible display of temper.
“Shut up,’Alu,” Samtu said genially. “There’s more wine!”
Pa’alu broke away and ran down the beach to the water’s edge. Amero too had noticed and was puzzled by the plainsman’s harsh reaction to such a minor accident. He went after Pa’alu.
The crowd was sparse by the lake. A chill rose from the water, and this discouraged most revelers from tarrying by the shore. Formidable piles of dirty trenchers lay heaped up along the shoreline. There would be much work to do in the morning, cleaning up after such a celebration.
Nianki was squatting on the sand, splashing cold water on her arms, legs, and face. Pa’alu slowed to a walk when he spotted her. Amero lingered at the edge of the crowd, anxious not to appear too intrusive.
“Karada.”
She didn’t look up. “What do you want, Pa’alu?”
“I have something to give you,” Pa’alu said softly.
“More wine? Good.”
“No, not wine.” He stood over her, one fist clenched.
She finally looked up, her sodden hair covering half her face. “Speak plainly, man. I can’t stand it when you drift around behind my back with that doe-eyed look.”
He held out his closed fist. “It’s here.”
“What is it?”
“Stand up and I’ll show you.”
Distant lightning shimmered behind her when she stood. Nianki wiped her hand on her legs, then planted her fists on her hips expectantly.
“Well, what’ve you got?”
“Something very rare…”
Over his shoulder she spied Amero watching them. Nianki let out a yell. “Hey, brother, come here! Pa’alu has something to show us!”
He jerked his hand away. “It’s not for anyone but you!” he said through clenched teeth. Pa’alu was about to flee when Duranix also appeared, walking along the shore toward him, blocking his way.
Lightning played about the western sky, and muffled peals of thunder echoed overhead, mixing with the pulsing rumble of the drums.
“What do you have?” asked the dragon. His voice was casual but plainly suspicious. “It’s the stone, isn’t it? You kept it, didn’t you?”
“No.” Pa’alu was hemmed in on three sides. The only escape was the lake.
“Show me what you have,” Duranix ordered.
“It’s not for you!”
“I can see it glowing through your foolish flesh. I smelled it on you earlier at the tent, but I thought it was just an aura, a remnant of the stone, but it’s not. You never got rid of the thing, did you? Do it now — throw it in the lake. It will poison you, as it almost poisoned me.”
“What he’s talking about?” asked a groggy Nianki.
“A nugget, charged with dangerous spirit-power,” Amero explained, his eyes watching Pa’alu with new seriousness.
“You’re wrong,” Pa’alu said, backing away from the dragon. “It’s not the yellow stone, I swear!”
Duranix closed within arm’s reach. Pa’alu drew his knife to fend him off. Nianki also advanced a step toward the pale, shivering plainsman, but Amero caught her by the arms, holding her.
A blade of elven bronze was no threat to a dragon, but Duranix didn’t want to harm the plainsman. He raised a finger near the tip of Pa’alu’s knife. A tiny arc of lightning flashed from his finger to the blade. There a was a loud snap, and Pa’alu flew backward into Nianki and Amero. All three went down in a heap on the sand.
“Get off me, you fool,” Nianki snarled, pushing the stunned Pa’alu away. Amero squirmed out from under the bigger man and saw something shiny and golden glittering on the sand.
Nianki saw it too and reached for it. Her hand brushed Amero’s, and their fingers touched the warm metal disk at the same moment.
Nianki drew in her breath sharply and flinched as if struck. She snatched her hand back and stared at it with distaste.
“Did it shock you?” asked Amero, stooping to pick up the mysterious object, but she continued to stare, saying nothing.
Amero examined it. It was a flat round piece of bronze. The light was poor, so he held it close to his face to see it, turning it over and over, examining it. Nianki was staring strangely at him, not at the disk.
“What is it?” asked Duranix, looking over Amero’s shoulder.
“A disk of metal. Bronze, I think.” The disk was blank on both sides, with no engraving or marks whatsoever. He handed it the dragon, who scrutinized it with diminishing curiosity. “He was telling the truth after all. It’s not the nugget.” Amero looked regretfully at Pa’alu, who was staring fiercely at Nianki.
Duranix flipped the disk over and over in his hands. “Strange. I could’ve sworn he was carrying the stone. I thought I sensed an aura of power hanging over him like the stink of an unwashed human.”
All of a sudden Nianki shuddered so violently she tottered into Amero. He put an arm around her to brace her up. “Too much to drink?” he asked gently.
“Uh… that must be it.”
“Let me help you back to your tent.”
Amero helped her stand. When he let go, Nianki shivered so hard she almost fell down. Amero grabbed her arm to steady her.
“What’s wrong?” Duranix asked.
The dragon folded the bronze disk in half with his powerful fingers and tossed it toward Pa’alu. The plainsman dropped to his knees, fingers scrabbling through the sand to find the disk. With a shout he stood bolt upright, staring at his empty hands.
“Where is it?” he cried hopelessly. His eyes darted between Nianki and Amero with a terror that none of them understood.
Then, with an agonized cry, Pa’alu picked up his knife, reversed the blade and raised it high to plunge into his own chest. He never made it. His hand was caught in Duranix’s unbreakable grip.
“Let me go!” Pa’alu screamed. “My life is over!”
Without a word, Duranix wrung the elf blade from the plainsman a second time and tossed it in the lake. He released Pa’alu, who stumbled backward and fell to the sand.
At that moment a fork of rose-colored lightning, bright as the moon, lanced down from the clouds and struck the mountaintop above the waterfall. A shattering thunderclap sounded, silencing the drums and pipes of the feast.
“By all my ancestors!” Pa’alu said hoarsely. “Forgive me, Karada. I never meant — ” He scrambled to his feet and started to run toward the village. Once he spun around and cried, “Forgive me! I never meant it!” Then he ran on, crashing against the revelers in his path.
Amero exchanged a puzzled look with Duranix. “Strange,” said the dragon, watching Pa’alu as he disappeared into the crowd. None of what happened had registered with Nianki, who seemed dazed.
A sheet of warm rain fell suddenly, lashing the crowd of celebrants. With much yelling and coarse laughter, the feast broke up as people sprinted for house and tent. Amero hurried through the hubbub with Nianki on his arm. Torches died in the downpour, and the stony flat above the beach became dark and confusing, with much running, falling, cursing, laughing. Steam and smoke curled up from the ashes of the bonfire, and village women struggled to get the uneaten portions of the feast into the storage tunnel.
