Chapter 18 #2
Thank you, Leonie. Shan relaxed even more. He was still somewhat suspicious that the kids had arranged this with Ragvald, but if they had, Leonie had neatly neutered their plan.
“We should also have a way to veto a question or dare after it is set,” he suggested, just to be safe. “We don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable. It’s just a game, after all.”
“Nothing as just a game, friend Shan,” Ragvald rumbled.
“And growth is rarely comfortable. But you make a valid point. We set challenges in good faith, intending only to help our shield-siblings overcome their fears. Still, sometimes one may accidentally go too far. Thus, there is always a way out. Though there is a price for taking it.”
He flicked his wrist, reaching into his hoard again. A small copper bowl filled with fine black powder appeared in his palm.
“If you refuse a challenge, you must mark your face with soot.” Ragvald set the bowl in the middle of the circle, where they would all be able to reach it.
“The challenger also marks their own face, as a penalty for setting too difficult a test. Anyone who reaches three marks is banished from the game, and also from the warmth of fire and fellowship, as is only proper. So think hard before both refusing a challenge, and setting one.”
“That seems fair enough.” Leonie said. “Is everyone happy to play?”
“No.” Ignatius glowered at Estelle, who was whispering urgently behind her hand to Archie. “Though I don’t expect that matters.”
Tiff thrust a hand into the air. “I’ll play!”
“I guess I will too, if everyone else is,” Spencer said. “As long as no one dares me to take off my glasses.”
“Okay, then.” Leonie beamed round the circle. “Who wants to go first?”
“Hold a moment, shield-sister.” Ragvald leaned forward, his good-humored face abruptly serious.
“In my homeland, this is an ancient tradition, and not one to be taken lightly. This circle is a sacred space. It is a grave offence to deliberately speak untrue, or set a challenge with intent to mock rather than aid. If you would play, you must do so with honor.”
Backlit by the fire, the wyrm could have stepped straight out of some ancient heroic saga. The kids all nodded silently, wide-eyed.
“Good.” Ragvald handed the bottle to Tiff. “Then we shall begin.”
Tiff spun the bottle with so much enthusiasm that it wobbled sideways across the packed earth. It rolled to a halt, pointing at Finley.
“Yay!” Tiff clapped her hands. “Truth or dare, Finley?”
“Um…” Finley looked like he was having second thoughts about this entire business. “Truth, I guess.”
“Aw,” Archie muttered. “Booooring.”
Tiff, on the other hand, looked delighted by Finley’s choice. “Okay. Have you ever seen a ghost? Remember, you have to answer honestly.”
Finley hesitated, his eyes swiveling as if in search of escape. Shan could guess the reason for the boy’s sudden panic. With Ragvald having made such a big thing about taking the game seriously, Finley could hardly lie and say he had—but he couldn’t tell the truth, either.
Taking pity on poor Finley, he interceded on the boy’s behalf. “I think you should rephrase that question, Tiff. It’s impossible for someone to truthfully state that they have seen a ghost. Only that they believe they might have seen one.”
Finley gratefully seized the metaphorical rope he’d been thrown.
“That’s right. I mean, I can’t say for sure that ghosts definitely exist. But I sometimes see…
echoes. Things that happened in the past, or might have happened, rippling forward in the future.
I guess some people might call them ghosts. ”
Interesting. The boy wasn’t lying, though he wasn’t telling the whole truth, either.
Yet Shan didn’t detect the trace of rotten fruit he’d expected.
Under the surface sweetness was a richer, more complex flavor.
He knew that Finley’s father had the ability to see the future, at least to some extent.
It seemed the boy had inherited some variation of that talent.
“Ha!” Tiff bounced on her cushion. “So you have seen a ghost! I knew you guys were holding out on me. Where did you—”
“One question only, young hatchling,” Ragvald interrupted. “That is the rule. Your shield-brother has fulfilled your challenge. If you wish to know more, you must either wait for chance to favor you again, or question him outside the circle.”
Tiff pouted, but subsided. “Oh, I will. Count on it. Here, Archie, it’s your turn next.”
Archie spun the bottle, then quickly crossed his fingers on both hands. Firelight flashed from glass. Estelle and Beth held their breaths, watching the bottle as if it were a roulette wheel.
“Yes!” Beth exclaimed as the bottle came to a halt pointing directly at Shan. “Good job, Archie.”
Spencer gave her a suspicious look through his glasses. “Why are you congratulating him? It’s just random chance.”
“Or skill,” Archie said, preening. “Truth or dare, Shan? And don’t be a wuss.”
He had a bad feeling about this. But really, there was only one option. He was concealing far too many secrets to risk anything else.
“Dare,” he said.
Archie hesitated, glancing sidelong at Estelle. Out of the corner of his mouth, he muttered, “Do I really have to?”
“Yes.” Estelle jabbed him with an impatient finger. “Come on, Archie. We might not get another chance.”
“Okay, okay.” Archie looked like he was bracing himself to force down a heaping plate of spinach. “Shan, I dare you to—ugh—kiss Leonie.”
“Absolutely not,” Ignatius said flatly, which was the exact opposite of Shan’s own reflexive response to this proposal. “No dares that involve touching other people without their consent. You idiots all agreed.”
Leonie cleared her throat. “That’s true, Archie. You’ll need to come up with a different challenge, I’m afraid.”
“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 if he can 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’t want him 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 glares this 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.”
He wanted to 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’t that unlikely,” 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 you want to 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.”
It did not.
“Huh.” Archie got down on hands and knees, putting an eye at ground level to squint along the bottle. “Is that pointing at Beth or Leonie?”
Beth quickly shuffled to one side, bumping her shoulder against Rufus. “Leonie. Definitely Leonie.”
“But you were right—” Ig started, and then winced. From the way Estelle was glaring at him, Shan guessed he’d just received an extremely pointed telepathic message. “Fine, fine. Let’s get this over with. Truth or dare?”
Leonie hesitated, as if weighing up the risks herself. “Ah… truth.”