Honey winced in sympathy. “Did you manage to talk him down?”
“Nope. He pitched such a fit that Zeph had to step in. Said the kid could have the spare counselor’s room, since I’m not using it.”
Honey blew out her breath. “That’s not going to help Ignatius make any friends.”
“No kidding.” Buck’s scowl deepened. “Personally, I would have wrapped the brat in a blanket like a burrito and staple-gunned him into a bunk.”
“Buck! Honey!”
Turning toward the cheerful call, Honey saw Leonie waving at them from a little way off. A few other people were with her, gathered around a small fire pit. Honey could make out Zephyr, leaning back on his elbows with his long legs stretched out, and the unmistakable bulk of Ragvald, crouched on his haunches like some vast, shaggy beast. Moira shared a log with Leonie, straight-backed as if seated on a throne.
“Traditional first night celebration,” Leonie called, beckoning. Her clipboard lay on the ground nearby; the first time Honey had seen it out of the lead counselor’s hands. “Come join us!”
Before Honey could respond, Buck’s hand tightened on her arm. He leaned over, voice dropping to a warning growl. “Better make our excuses. Too much chance of slipping up. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”
Honey looked into that closed, hard-lined face, half hidden in shadow. Estelle’s sleepy voice floated through her mind:At least he’s not locking himself away and refusing to talk to anyone.
“We’ll be right over!” she called back to Leonie. At Buck’s exasperated glare, she added, in a whisper, “It’ll look more suspicious if wedon’tjoin them. Look, everyone else is socializing.”
“Everyone else is a motherloving shifter,” Buck grumbled, but he let her lead him toward the campfire. “Five minutes tops. After that, we’re leaving. I’ll throw you over my shoulder if necessary.”
Now there was a mental image. Honey tried hard not to dwell on it. “I think that might attract comment.”
He shot her an indecipherable look. “You’d be surprised.”
“Ah, our newest counselors,” Zephyr greeted them both as they reached the circle of firelight. “And how was your first day?”
“You remember that nightmare I used to have?” Buck replied. “The one about being burned alive?”
Zephyr’s eyebrows rose a little. “How could I forget?”
Buck folded himself onto a log, like a very buff praying mantis. “This was worse.”
“Come sit with us, Honey,” Leonie invited, shuffling up to make room on the log she shared with Moira. “Was it really that bad, or is Buck just being his usual dramatic self?”
“I,” Buck said in tones of mortal offense, “have never been dramatic in my entire motherloving life.”
“Uncle, you once gave a long, heartfelt speech while holding me at gunpoint,” Zephyr murmured. “Not to mention the time you actually shot me.”
“Buck is beingslightlydramatic,” Honey told Leonie. She sighed, thinking of Ignatius. “But not by much.”
“The first few days are always rough.” Leonie bumped her shoulder against Honey’s, like a friendly cat. “But I’m sure you can handle it. The kids will bond eventually.”
“Only if we tie them together with rope,” Buck muttered. He glared around the circle. “Please tell me this traditional first night celebration includes a traditional first night drink.”
“Yes, we must drink!” Ragvald boomed. With a flourish, he pulled a stoppered leather flask out from behind his back. “To the successful start of this grand venture!”
Zephyr cleared his throat. “Ah, Ragvald, you know that there’s no alcohol allowed on site, right?”
“Alcohol?” Ragvald looked at Moira for translation.
“I’m not sure I know the word in your tongue.” She furrowed her brow, then said something that didn’t sound like any language Honey had ever heard. When Ragvald continued to look puzzled, she added, “Strong drink? For adults only, at special celebrations?”
“Ah!” Ragvald’s quizzical expression cleared. He waved the flask. “No, no, jarl Zephyr. Of course we would not feast while duty lies heavy on our shoulders. The watchers must remain watchful, yes? This is only wyrm-bjorr, sweet and mild. Warriors of my people drink it at every meal.”
Zephyr still looked a little dubious, but he nodded. “Well, in that case, we would be honored.”
Ragvald beamed, showing broad white teeth. Honey had expected him to pass the flask round, but instead he put it to one side. With a flick of his wrist, he produced a small pottery cup… out of thin air.
