What Benedict believed was a market ended up being far more; it was a festival. The market was only a small part of it, leading to a park full of attractions and entertainment. Bards roamed about in greater numbers than in the canopy, some having impromptu song duels whenever they came close to each other. Several stages sat on the periphery with live entertainment—jugglers, plays, and the like. There was even a circular area where two men fought with training swords.

  “This is even livelier than I’ve seen in the past,” Ordra said.

  “You knew about this?”

  “Noctim loves its festivals, and this one has been going on for three days. They must have needed one after so long crowded above.”

  “And Ordra forbade us from coming until you two were well enough to be released,” Kirion complained.

  “It’s unfortunate that Celica is tutoring Daena; she should be here,” Amalyn said.

  “She knows she can show up at any time.” Ordra pointed into the crowd. “Today, we have a holiday.”

  “You both need to have some real fun, I can tell.” Tirra placed on hand on Benedict’s back and one on Shiyo’s, then pushed.

  Merchants hawked their wares as they passed by each stall, and all offered a personal discount just for them. Tirra stopped at one stall manned by an older woman, her wares being small, beautiful pendants cast in gold and each one with a precious stone in the center.

  “This is a special adventurer,” Tirra announced too loudly for Benedict’s taste. “All of these are the ones who destroyed the monster nest ravaging this fine city!”

  The woman’s eyes bulged, and her hands trembled. “Oh my! I can’t take your money! Here!” She thrust a pendant inlaid with jade into Benedict’s hands. “Please, take this with my eternal gratitude!”

  “Ma’am, I promise I can pay,” Benedict said.

  “Your money is worthless here! Without you, I would still be rotting in that canopy along with all my family.”

  “Just accept it, you’ll get that a lot today,” Tirra said while slapping Benedict’s shoulder.

  “They wouldn’t have known if you didn’t say anything,” Benedict grumbled as he stared at the trinket.

  He wasn’t the only one to receive something from the woman. Everyone in the party received a pendant for free, and that was only the first stall. By the time they had passed out of the market, Benedict alone had obtained, in addition to the pendant, two small woven handkerchiefs, an iron spike wrought into an ornate charm, a clay whistle, two pouches of herbs, and a fresh loaf of bread. And that was just goods. Benedict received three marriage proposals. Five women threw themselves at Ordra with no small measure of desperation. Kirion received a proposal, as well, and was noticeably irritated when Shiyo received three. More usefully, a pair of thaumaturges gave them coupons for their services.

  “I’m not used to such gratitude,” Benedict said, admiring the pendant’s perfect circular curve and inset jade.

  Shiyo stared at a small, carved human figure she had been given. “Neither am I.”

  “I don’t think any of us has ever saved a city of this size,” Ordra said.

  “The largest ever was Tilm,” Amalyn said.

  “You’ll be famous across the entire world for this in less than a year, mark my words,” Tirra replied.

  “The paths of adventurers rarely lead where we can foresee,” Shiyo murmured.

  Their conversation died as they passed another caller. “Feats of strength and skill, this way! Test your mettle in our well-built games!”

  “That sounds interesting,” Ordra said.

  Once again, Tirra grabbed Benedict with one hand and Shiyo with the other. “Then we go!”

  For the people of Noctim, “feats of skill and strength” translated to many of the carnival games Benedict had seen growing up. Dozens queued up for the standard high striker right next to an axe throwing booth. What caught Benedict’s eye fastest was a shooting gallery. The contestants were given crossbows, and down the twenty or so yards of the range were multiple rows of targets moving back and forth on rails.

  He watched for a moment. Bolts sailed through the range, piercing targets or thunking into the back wall, with most of the struck targets being on the front row. The only targets left pristine were the ones at the back, only the size of a saucer and less than a foot away from the back wall. After a shot, each shooter grabbed a handle at the front of the weapon and pulled it back and over, setting the string for a reload. So that was how they reloaded without Celica’s invention.

  The attendant called to him. “You, sir! You look like an interested adventurer! Perhaps you can show the people of Noctim how a true warrior does it!”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Tirra nudged Benedict in the back. “We all know you want to.”

  “How different can it be from your rifle?” Amalyn asked.

  “Do it,” Kirion said.

  “Hit a target on the last row, and you will win a beautiful trinket for the luckiest of these young ladies!” the attendant shouted, patting a wooden chest.

  Benedict suddenly felt three pairs of eyes on him. “Fine. How much for an attempt?”

  “Ten aur for five bolts. What do you say?”

  “Can’t hurt, can it?” He handed over the coins and took an empty crossbow.

  The weapon felt light and cheap; not surprising for a carnival attraction, really. It probably had barely enough power to hurl a bolt to the end of the range. The attendant placed five bolts on the counter right in front of him. With a quick pull on the lever, Benedict set the string, then loaded a bolt.

  At the farthest row, the saucer-sized targets wandered, spending just a little more time at the extremes of its movement. That was his best chance. He picked the one perpendicular to his position and aimed longer than the attendant liked. A squeeze on the lever sent the bolt flying. As Benedict expected, it was slow for a crossbow, and it struck the back wall after passing by its intended target. Just to the left.

  Benedict reloaded and tried again, aiming for the exact same spot. This time, the bolt veered to the right and struck the wall just past the target. Interesting. He reset and reached for his third bolt. As he examined it, the attendant gulped. It was evident why. A glance at the fletching showed him one of the two vanes was slightly noticeably larger than the other. Had the second bolt not flown opposite the other, he may not have noticed.

  “Maybe it’s not like his rifle,” Amalyn said.

  Benedict said nothing as he set the bolt into place and aimed. This time, he noted the larger vane was on the left before aiming at the same spot he had before. Just like the first, it veered off to the left. A smile crossed his lips. That was the carny trick this one was using.

  “You aren’t used to long range weapons, are you?” the attendant asked.

  “Quite the contrary, ranged is my preference,” Benedict said as he loaded his fourth bolt. “Though my weapon is significantly more powerful than this toy.”

  “I’m afraid, as much as you might like to show off, using a specialized weapon would be unfair to every other contestant. Don’t worry, as long as you’re willing to pay, you can try as much as you want.”

  “Just a little Kentucky windage…”

  His aim wandered over to the bolt that missed to the right. The bolt flew, curving slightly to the left, and buried itself into the target on the edge of the red bullseye. Partially to show off, he loaded the next bolt, putting the larger vane on the right, and shot again. This time, he hit nearly dead center. Triumphant, he set the crossbow onto the counter with the attendant staring, mouth agape.

  “About that trinket you mentioned,” Benedict said.

  “How?” the attendant asked.

  Benedict kept his voice low. “If you want to make your customers miss your furthest targets, you should make your imperfections a little more random. That way, someone experienced won’t be able to find a pattern to your deception.”

  “Fine. Take your pick.”

  The attendant opened the chest, revealing a collection of jewelry: brooches, hairpins, necklaces, and bracelets. His eyes locked onto a golden hairpin. At its head lay a golden five-petal flower beset with a tiny ruby at its center, both on top of a silky pink ribbon. The flower reminded him of the cherry blossoms so treasured by the Japanese. That was the one he picked.

  “So, which of these ladies is this going to?” the attendant asked with a somewhat mischievous smile.

  Benedict waved any concern away. “I’m not dating any of these women. Shiyo, this looks like something you would like.”

  Shiyo stared at the hairpin as he handed it over. “What?”

  “You’re the one who wanted to bring me to Noctim, after all. We wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now that we’ve liberated this man of a prize, let’s see what the rest of the place has to offer,” Ordra said.

  As the sun set, the party gathered at a small café, munching on a cake Amalyn won in a ring toss and having drinks they were given for free—another gift courtesy of Tirra’s insistence that everyone knew who destroyed the nest. A bard sung a cheery, bawdy tale nearby, not caring that there were children around. It was then that Celica and Daena finally joined them.

  “How long have you been here?” Amalyn asked.

  “We arrived a couple hours ago,” Daena replied.

  “I would have looked harder for you, but we were somewhat distracted,” Celica said.

  Tirra tousled Daena’s hair. “You should have found us. Celica could have gotten some free gifts just like the others.”

  “Gifts?”

  “Tirra told everyone we were the ones who destroyed the nest,” Benedict said.

  “And they proceeded to give us a ton of gifts for saving them,” Ordra added.

  Kirion indicated Ordra and Benedict. “These two even got marriage proposals.”

  “You didn’t take them?” Daena asked.

  “We have unfinished business,” Ordra replied.

  Tirra set her drink on the table. “Speaking of, what are your plans after this?”

  “We have yet to discuss such matters with our comrades.”

  “Where are you headed?” Shiyo asked.

  “A city far north of here, in the Arun region, called Mythris. It’s home to a well known school for thaumaturgy, and Celica believes someone there can help identify the mysterious Source.”

  “Mythris holds more thaumaturgical knowledge than anywhere else,” Celica explained.

  “That could potentially lead me to Fandal,”Amalyn said.

  “Who’s Fandal?” Tirra asked.

  “My brother. He was enthralled by the Wraith woman in charge of the masked men, and I want him out of her grasp.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  Shiyo stared into her drink. “I’m going after Seraphine.”

  “In that case, you are always invited to come with us, especially as official members of our party,” Ordra said.

  Benedict thought back to the original invitation. They were good people, and he wanted to stay with them. “We will absolutely consider it.”

  Shiyo didn’t look up. “We will.”

  “Where are you two going after this?” Kirion asked Tirra and Daena.

  “I’ve talked to Celica, and I’m going to Lorvath,” Daena said. “She told me of someone there who can help me find more Sources and learn even more about thaumaturgy. Tirra?”

  Tirra shrugged and leaned back. “I’ve always just gone where the wind takes me. I don’t see why I should stop that now.”

  Ordra extended a hand. “In that case, if our paths cross after this, we should adventure together.”

  “That’s a promise, fearless leader.” Tirra grasped Ordra’s hand and shook it.

  Kirion stood, took a final swig of his drink, and stretched. “I, for one, am not ready to think of the future. There’s a festival going on all around us, and I intend to take it in before we leave.”

  “I think I agree,” Ordra said.

  “When shall we meet at the platform?” Celica asked.

  “I’ll be back by morning!” Kirion shouted as he walked away.

  “Noctim’s night life can be something,” Ordra said. “Just be back to the canopy sometime tomorrow.”

  “That’s agreeable to me,” Benedict said.

  They split up, with Benedict going alone into the festival. He agreed with Kirion. It was time to have fun.