The Feast continues until the final course is served and the final bite of food is decoured. Anita has gained all of our appreciation. Her meals are renowned for filling a person up without making them feel sick. Not teven the Admiral, who took the opportunity to gorge himself, groaned in discomfort; instead he sighed with satisfaction at a perfectly prepared meal.

Kevin, Stuart, Chris and I sat at the table as Anita clears away all the food that is left inf ront of us, promising to leave it in the kitchen for us to sample tomorrow as well. With Amber and Tom both gone the rest of the counsel soon abandon the Feast of Leaders in order to attend the more exciting Festival of Military Island.

Standing just outside the reach of the bonfire's heat, the Admiral, Chris and I all look in at the excitement and feasting. The firelight dances against our faces as we look about for a place to sit. The feast appears to be ending though, and everyone is sitting at their seats with no intention of rising.

Chris breaks forward suddenly and grabs a nearby Zibwite. He man looks at Chris in confusion as the young man begins speaking quickly as though issuing orders. The man's face brightens and he nods in excitement. Chris waves us over to the table as the Zibwite starts talking with the others sitting with him. They seem less than keen with his orders.

“The girls! The girls!” I hear the man exclaim quietly to his friends. The girl named Kendra laughs at him as the other Zibwites begin to see the promise of this plan. They all start nodding and soon they jump into action.

Chris smiles at us and gestures for us to take their seats at the table. Only Kendra remains at the table, she watches the other performers get prepared for whatever quest Chris had set them on.

“What are they doing?” I ask as I sit down in the warm seat.

Chris smiles and watches them. “You'll see.” He promises.

Most of the performers gather around the fire, forming a large circle. They look out into the crowd of Yadoutains as though looking for someone specific. One by one they all seem to find whoever they are looking for and then wait.

Three of the performers have broken off from their companions to make their way over to the now abandoned cook's station. They grab pots, silver plates and barrels, dragging them out and taking up positions around the fire as well.

“Yadoutians!” The man Chris had spoken to calls out from behind a large barrel of Fruit Cocktail, a dagger and a short sword in his hand. “Your land is free!” The people cheer and lift their mugs to the Zibwites. “Celebrate!” The man bellows above the clamor as he begins to hit the barrel, turning it into a makeshift drum. The other two men with the small pots and the silver places pick up the beat and add their own sound to it.

The Zibwite men positioned around the fire begin to dance and move out into the tables. One by one, each of them takes the hand of their selected Yadoutian girl and leads her (blushing) to the small circle. Slowly the girls begin to move to the beat of the drums as well and other Yadoutians rise to join in the festivities. Except for about a dozen Yadoutians, everyone on Military Island was soon dancing.

“This is fantastic!” Chris shouts over the sound of the music. The three of us still remain sitting and watching the even in amazement. We all clap and nod our heads in time with the beat, the old man making sure to stay slightly out of time. The sounds of cheering and laughter mixes with the drums making it sound more beautiful than anything I have ever heard.

“You two should get out there!” The old man shouts. “I'd do it myself and steal all the women, but with my busted wheel I don't think I'd last too long.” He says with a quick glance down at his knee.

“I don't think so.” Chris responds looking around for a way out. “I've never been much of a dancer.”

Stuart nods. “I suppose not.” He says. We all watch the celebration grow even more energetic, the people are enraptured by the music and the noise.

Stuart leans over to his son again. “Do you know what the second saddest thing in the world is?” The old man ask. Chris looks at his father, confused. What kind of question is that to pose now? “When an entire country is dancing except for one girl.” He answers looking past Chris. Kendra is caught watching the young man. She looks away, embarrassed.

Chris looks back at his father, then to me. The young man stands up and walks over to the lady, he extends his hand to her and she hesitantly takes it. Stuart smiles and leans back in satisfaction.

“That was well done.” I tell him with a pat on the back.

The old man looks at me and shakes his head. “Well, you don't know what the saddest thing in the world is, do you?” I tilt my head, wondering what he means. “When the leader of a country dances alone.” I follow his gaze which now rests on Amber, dancing in front of the fire, basking in the glory of the music.

With one final look at the Admiral, I walk to Amber and watch her a moment as she dances in the firelight. She moves wit hall the grace of the flames as she spins. I continue to walk towards her and reach out my hand. Slowly, she takes it. Our eyes lock for a moment before we dance together.

I can't describe what happened. We move as one person, as though motions that were once alien and unusual are as natural as our feet glide over the soil. The lights spin around us faster and faster and we lose all track of time. The moonlight reflects off her eyes and I wish that this would never end.

The dream is lifted when Kendra comes up behind us and taps on Amber's shoulder.

Amber and I stare at each other a moment longer, even as Chris and Kendra wait. I am not sure what had just happened was real of if it was a dream. Amber and I release each other and turn to Chris and Kendra, both of the young people look tired but happy.

“I'm really sorry,” Kendra begins, “I didn't want to interrupt but the night is old and I'd like to speak with Deany before I retire for the evening.”

I cough and smile at Amber, she nods and smiles back. She and I glance up at the stars, already the second watch. “I should get going too.” She says. Amber looks up at me and smiles weakly. “Good night.” She whispers.

Kendra smiles. “Good night, Amber.” She says before turning to me. “Would you like to find a seat?” She asks, my legs suddenly feel like lead weights now that Amber is gone.

“I would actually.” I say starting for the nearest table, still a little dazed. The music still plays but only softly as though nothing more than an afterthought of what the celebration was. Many people have retired but more remain to continue the celebration, not wanting this grand festival to end. “What do you want to talk about?” I ask.

Kendra cough uncomfortably. “You're going to think I'm crazy.”

I laugh. “We haven 't spoken before. It's going to take something truly insane for me to think you're crazy.”

“I think I've fallen in love with Chris.” Perhaps this girl is crazy. “I know.” She says, my thoughts written in my expression. “I mean, in the time I've known him I've come to think of him as a good guy...”

“Well, yes!” I say quickly. “He's great, a funny guy. A little out there, but nothing you couldn't learn to tolerate.”

Kendra laughs and turns away. “I never thought this is what I'd find when I left Zibwee.” She explains, her face suddenly serious. “Both of our lives are balanced on the blade of a knife. Who knows when death will come to collect us? It may just be me or him and we could leave the other other one behind.” She turns to face the table and puts her head in her hands. “Deany, there is war coming. I can smell it. These feelings aren't good. I shouldn't be feeling this way. Not now. Chris trusts you, I can't talk to him or his father about this, and telling it to the Pelican Riders would be just plain embarrassing. So I'm asking you, what do you think?”

“Kendra, how old are you?” I ask.

“Seventeen harvests.” She answers. The same as Chris.

“When I was a small child I lived in Zibwee and I learned a lot about your people.” I tell her. “Your people live to be seventy, even eighty harvests! In Yadout, we only live to be fifty, maybe sixty if we're lucky. It's tough, I know. But even if the two of you were in perfect safety he'd still leave you many years before your death. A relationship between a Zibwite and a Yadoutian is a bad idea to begin with, I don't think danger could make it any worse. If you love him, and that's enough to get over the separate life spans... then I think it's enough to get you over the danger as well.

Kendra thinks about this and slowly asmile spreads across her face. “I think I see why Chris trusts you. Thank you, Deany.”

The large bonfire crackles ferociously sending sparks flying in all directions. The entire island seems to look on in admiration as the fire shifts from its typical yellow and red color to a bright green, fades into a deep purple and then flares to a bright pink before sending a ball of fire straight up into the air like a pelican. When the orb's ascent reaches a peak it shatters against the black sky and showers the air with smaller orbs of fire that extinguish on their way back down to Yadout.

Between the dancing, music, food and Zibwite entertainment, this year is shaping up to be the most prosperous year Yadout has ever seen. Even the kegs of the late Lord Mayor's favorite drink seem to refill themselves. Grabbing a mug of the drink myself I side down again on the bend next to Stuart.

“A drink?” I ask offering it to the old man in order to thank him for suggesting the dance with Amber. The old man scowls down at the drink and spits onto the ground.

“I don't care what Hudson thought about them, Fruit Cocktail's are vile!” He pushes the drink back towards me.

“Surely you can't be serious.” I tell him. He answers with a glare that could have destroyed an entire island. “What about all the time you... drank them? You've even stolen them from your own son!”

The old man shakes his head. “Everyone else was drinking them. It's not like Kevin has a wide variety of drinks to choose from.” I stifle a laugh. “As for Chris, I'd rather let him suffer than be happy.”

“Well, aren't you a bed of flowers.” I say snidely.

The old man sighs. “I didn't mean it like that. I do things like that to Chris because everyone does.” We sit for a long moment staring at the young man who continues his game of chance with the Zibwite people. “No, I lied.” The old man finally admits. “I do things like that because I like to.” I watch the old man as he stares at his son. “His life isn't going to be an easy one. It hasn't been and it won't change.

“He volunteered, you know, to go on that expedition to the north. I didn't ask him to come. I didn't want him to. If I was wrong, if the island to the north didn't exist, we could still be out there. We could be dead on the deck of that small fishing boat.

“He goes out looking for adventure when he should...” The old man pauses. “...when he should settle down. When he should be thinking about starting a family.”

“Maybe he'll change as he gets older.” I offer.

“Nah.” The Admiral says reaching over and taking the Fruit Cocktail out of my hand. “He's just like his mother. He's always looking for a new story to tell, another trophy to show off. That's what got her killed, you know, that drive for adventure.” I recall the story of the Cyclops in the Zibwee mountains. Stuart's wife was one of the 'heroes' sent to slaughter the beast only to find themselves powerless against it. “I almost wish we didn't find an island to the north. This justifies his adventuring, you know? This gives him a place to explore.” The old man throws his head back and downs the entire Fruit Cocktail in a single swallow.

“What about Kendra? She could straighten him out.”

The old man wipes his beard and burps loudly. “She's worse than he is. A thrill seeker. A match made by the gods, it seems.” The old man snorts and stands up. “That's all for me though. I'm heading home. My bones are weary, my time is nearly up. I only hope I live to see Chris married.”

“Stuart, why did you take my drink?” I ask with a smile as the old man starts to walk away.

“Simple.” The Admiral tells me. “You don't have any parents to do it for you.”