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faces of the Tavaedi Initiates, certain that Dindi must be among them, and curious to know what Chroma she’d proven . He still couldn’t find her.
    Someone somewhere beat a big, deep drum. Hertio shuffled out in front of the High Table. On the prominence, he was visible to everyone.
    “Give honor to the brave Initiates!” Hertio cried over the applause.
    The warriors arrived now, painted for victory, spears thrust in the air in triumph.
    “Give honor to the warriors who fought to defend our people!” he cried.
    The crowd clapped and cheered while the warriors took their seats along the mats. Behind the warriors, the Tavaedies arrived, in full regalia. Hertio called for their honor too, and the crowd duly cheered. Two dozen or so Zavaedies came next, and these men and women ascended the steps to join Hertio at the High Table while the crowd screamed and stamped their feet in adoration. Kavio stepped back, further into the shadows, to let them pass. Several looked at him curiously, in his mask and costume, unable to identify him.
    “Revile our enemies! They tried to destroy our harvest of youths, but we dealt them death and slavery in place of the slaughter they plotted!”
    The Blue Waters prisoners had been stripped to rags and tied with their arms stretched across wooden beams. They staggered forward, a villainous looking lot, especially Rthan. Despite being burdened and bound to a wooden beam, he walked unbowed, a mountain of muscle inconvenienced by a twig. The crowd of his foes screamed epithets at him and pelted him with pebbles and bits of food, but he stared past them disdainfully.
    The prisoners were forced to the stage directly below the High Table, where the beams they carried were set like stakes at intervals. The captives were re-bound to these, with their hands tied over their heads. All would enjoy the spectacle of their humiliation throughout the victory feast.
    Hertio refocused the attention of the crowd. “We also have a visitor from another tribe, a guest who will be staying with us for some time.”
    Kavio straightened at this cue, prepared to step out into the light and ascend the final steps to the High Table.
    “He comes all the way from the Rainbow Labyrinth tribehold. Give honor to the Cloud Dancer!”
    About to step forward, Kavio froze.
    A man in the unmistakable attire of a Rainbow Labyrinth Zavaedi strolled down the aisle between the rows of feasting mats. His headdress did not cover his face, so Kavio could see the smirk of his cousin Zumo.
    “I would also like to welcome back an old friend of mine,” Hertio continued his announcement. “Give honor to the Herb Dancer!”
    Kavio had been so obsessed with his cousin, he hadn’t noticed the less flamboyant figure walking a few paces behind him. Nilo’s father? But he’s a n Imorvae, one of my father’s allies.
    The men ascended the steps. They both glanced at Kavio as they passed him, but neither displayed a flicker of recognition. They greeted Hertio with polite words for his welcome and hospitality.
    “Finally,” Hertio said. “I want to present the man to whom we all owe a great debt. He has earned the highest respect and friendship of the Yellow Bear tribe. It was with his timely assistance that we defeated our foes! Step forward, my young friend.”
    Kavio joined Hertio, who clapped him on the shoulder and turned him to face the assembled people below.
    “My friends,” Hertio cried, “It has been twenty years since the downfall of the Bone Whistler, twenty seasons of peace since hundreds of exiles from Rainbow Labyrinth sought refuge in our lands. But a new exile has asked and been granted our hospitality. I am proud to welcome the strongest magic dancer in Faearth, a young man who is already a Zavaedi at an age when other boys are still Initiates; the only known Zavaedi with all six Chromas; the only living son of a faery and a mortal; the son of the White Lady, last of the Aelfae…”
    Before Hertio could finish, Zumo,