“Then Archie dares Shan to ask Leonie if he can kiss her,” Estelle said promptly. “Isn’t that right, Archie?”
“Yeah, that,” Archie said, looking somewhat relieved that he didn’t have to say the k-word again. He added, hastily, “That is, Shan has to ask Leonie ifhecan do it with her. Not me.”
“I guess that’s within the rules,” Tiff said thoughtfully. “If he’s only daring Shan to ask. I mean, if Leonie doesn’twanthim to kiss her, she just has to say no.”
“But—” Leonie started, and stopped.
“What do you think, Ragvald?” Finley asked. “It’s your game.”
Ragvald stroked his beard. “It seems to me that the dare is indeed within the agreed boundaries. As the host of the circle, I shall allow it.”
“Wait,” Ignatius said urgently, ignoring the death glaresthis earned him from Estelle and Beth. “Does anyone have a bucket?”
“Of course, youngling.” Ragvald looked mildly puzzled, but produced a metal bucket out of his hoardspace. He passed it to Ignatius. “Why?”
“First, so I can put it over my head.” Ignatius did so, causing his next words to emerge somewhat muffled. “And afterward, so I can be sick into it.”
“Go on, Shan,” Beth urged. “All you have to do is ask.”
Hewantedto ask. Instead, he dipped his finger into the bowl of soot. A chorus of groans went up as he drew a dark mark down his cheek.
“No complaining, kids,” Leonie said firmly. “If someone doesn’t want to do a dare, we don’t pressure them. Don’t forget to mark your face as well, Archie.”
Looking more relieved than disappointed, Archie smeared soot across his own face, then wiped his hand down the front of his shirt. “Well, I tried. Estelle, you’re next.”
Estelle looked between Shan and the bottle. She narrowed her eyes, like a sniper lining up a shot.
Surely, she can’t…
It seemed she could. Against all probability, Shan found himself staring straight down the neck of the bottle again.
“Yes!” Estelle pumped her fist. “In your face.”
“The same person twice in a row isn’tthatunlikely,” Spencer said. “It’s still just luck, not skill.”
“That’s what you think,” Estelle replied, smirking. “Truth or dare, Shan?”
Either option was about as appealing as balancing an apple on his head and standing next to the archery targets. He went for the one that seemed marginally less dangerous. “Truth.”
Estelle gave him a sweet smile. Shan regretted all his life choices.
“Hmm.” Estelle made a show of pondering what to ask, though he was quite certain she—and he—already knew. “Okay, got one. Do youwantto kiss Leonie?”
“Estelle!” Leonie yelped. “You can’t ask Shan that!”
“Why not?” Estelle said innocently. “Ragvald said the point of the game was to help each other overcome our fears. Maybe he was just scared you’d say no.”
In fact, he hadn’t taken the dare for precisely the opposite reason. He wasn’t about to correct her, though. Or answer.
He repressed a sigh. “The bowl, please.”
“Yeah, thought so.” Estelle smirked, marked her own face before passing him the bowl. In an undertone that carried clear across the circle, she added, “You kinda answered the question anyway.”
“This is shaping up to be a very short game.” Ignatius said, still muffled. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“You’re always complaining.” Estelle rapped her knuckles on the bucket, making Ig wince. “Get out from under there and spin the bottle.”
Ignatius reluctantly emerged. “Fine. But this had better not land on Shan again.”
