Page 47 of The Alien Noble's Little Human

I look over at the invitingly blazing fire, the smell of roasting chordata wafting with the smoke on the breeze.

“Then let’s go make merry with our brethren,” I say, pointing with my arm toward the bonfires.

“Yes, yes, we shall. There’s one thing to know first, Taurek. Tonight, there’s a festival to honor a spirit the Avaris believe is sacred to these peaks.”

“And that’s a catch why?” I ask. A feast day sounds even more perfect.

“It’s not a catch. I’m just giving you advance notice. It’s customary to ingest an elixir that draws the spirit of the mountains out, so they’re visible.”

“How does it do that?” Zaya asks.

“It makes them visible, with a substance that makes all dreams visible. It grows in the peaks here.”

“You mean we’re going to get high?” Zaya says indelicately.

“Yes. I’ve already partaken a bit myself.” Rylan stares into space as if someone else has just come into our group, even though it’s only the three of us. Zaya nods at me.

“Well, let’s bless the deities then. We can’t be rude to our hosts, can we?”

The clan’s regalia looks metallic as if constructed from sheets of the minerals themselves woven into hardy fabrics. They wear silks and linens taken from the natural resources here, and obviously, they have a long history of textile artisanship.

“This is amazing,” breathes Zaya as we enter the circle of firelight and are instantly surrounded by dancing figures.

Even their musical instruments are fashioned from the materials in the caverns below.

A group of three women walks up to Zaya. “Would you like a bath and some clean clothes?” asks the eldest, a middle-aged Kiphian female with dark hair and purple eyes.

“Oh,” says Zaya. “That would be wonderful!”

I am pleased to see she looks to acknowledge that I know where she is before she’s led away by the three women. Despite Rylan's reassurances, I watch carefully to see which tent they enter.

“Come on, she’ll be safe enough with Tara and her daughters. She is the chief's wife, and the clan believes in honor toward guests at all times. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, too,” says Rylan pointedly.

I laugh, forcing myself to relax. “Okay,” I say. “Lead on.”

He leads me to an opulent tent with a brazier and a bath of scented steaming water at its center. “Leave your clothes by the door. They will be washed and dried by morning.” Rylan bows as he then leaves the tent.

I have to admit the bath is exactly what I need, and I could probably stay in it all night. But the scent of cooking food eventually lures me out.

The clothes that have been left for me are more primal than I’m used to, made from untanned animal skins along with rough material, but they are warm, clean, and soft, a stark contrast to my traveling clothes.

By the time I get outside, the party is in full swing and the evening has passed into darkness. There is a long feasting table set up along one edge of the central fire circle, and many of the clan's people are already helping themselves. I spot Rylan among them and make my way over.

“Grab a plate,” he yells above the noise of the music.

I look along the table to a pile of tin plates and cups. I fill my cup first from the jug of sweet-smelling brew on the table and down it in one go. It is delicious, and I go to fill it again.

“Hey, steady,” calls Rylan. “That’s potent stuff!”

I stare at my empty cup. “This is the brew? I thought it would be handed around as part of a ceremony or something.”

Rylan is still smiling and has a faraway look in his eyes. I realize he is already wasted.

“This is the ceremony,” he tells me. “The food has been blessed, and so were you when you had your bath scented with sacred herbs. Now the idea is to enjoy yourself as the mountain spirits walk amongst us for the night.”

Zaya comes up beside me and takes my arm. I look down at her. She has a beautiful smile on her face.

“Beware of the drink in the jug there,” I tell her.

---