Elira jogged toward the market, her smile blooming since morning. This afternoon, she and Sena had promised to enjoy the stalls before tonight’s Festival. Elira’s tongue was already itching to taste the snacks that only appear on Festival day.

Her steps slowed as she passed the training field where the adults usually practiced. Today it was unusually crowded and busy. A few of them even wore leather and bits of iron, like they were preparing for a fight.

Bows, arrows, daggers—even iron swords that rarely came out—covered the long table in the center. Kael stood there handing out weapons, saying something Elira couldn’t quite catch over the noise of people crowding around him.

What were they doing, exactly? Were they just rehearsing for tonight’s show?

Curious, but not wanting to keep Sena waiting, Elira tucked her questions away and continued on.

“Sena!” Elira called, face shining.

Her best friend turned with a slight scowl. “Why so long? I nearly died of heat.”

“Sorry,” Elira took Sena’s hand, acting cute to win forgiveness. “Raka’s sick. I had to make sure he fell asleep before I left.”

“Tsk.” Sena pinched her arm. “If Raka weren’t handsome, I’d refuse to speak to you.”

Elira grinned, looped her arm through Sena’s, and pulled her into the market. As if Sena could ever dump her—they’d known each other since before they could crawl.

“I want star bread, no matter what,” Elira launched straight into her food list. “I heard there’s a honey flavor this time. When else do we get to eat honey?”

Sena chuckled. “Honestly, your brain has only two things in it: Raka and food.”

Elira ignored her and hopped from stall to stall, buying almost everything she touched.
The silver coins from home melted into pastries.

Sena drifted toward cloth, hair ornaments, and little trinkets Elira didn’t understand—why buy those on Festival day?

Hands full of a basket piled with food, Elira headed for the star bread seller—a bread made only on Festival day, wheat shaped like a star and filled with different jams.

“I’m sorry, Elira,” the shopkeeper said. “The star bread is sold out.”

The words made Elira pout with disappointment, though she forced a smile.

“We didn’t have enough ingredients to make a big batch. So they were gone before noon.”

Elira nodded. “It’s okay. I understand.” She tugged Sena’s arm and led her out of the bakery.

Sena studied Elira’s face. “I overheard something. They said Kamura asked for an extension this month.”

The word “Kamura” froze Elira’s feet.

“You didn’t notice? There were no bells from the square today. Kamura was supposed to arrive with the harvest.”

Elira jolted. She’d been so busy fussing over Raka this morning that she’d forgotten: the Fire Harvest Festival always happens at the start of the month. And Kamura’s delivery usually doubles on Festival day.

“Isn’t it strange? In all our history, this is the first time Kamura is late.”

A prickly feeling gnawed at Elira’s chest. Bits of things she’d heard lately glued together into worry.

“Maybe they’re having trouble too,” Elira said, stumbling over the words. “They’ve helped us so much already. Being late by a day or two shouldn’t be a big deal.”

Sena shrugged. “I don’t understand village politics either. But I heard the market people are starting to panic—they’re afraid Kamura’s betraying us.”

Betraying? Was Ashira so dependent that a single day without help put them on a knife’s edge?

“Forget Kamura for now,” Sena snapped her fingers in front of Elira’s gloomy face. “This is a happy day. Don’t sulk!”

Elira forced a smile. “You’re right. Before the year runs out, let the adults handle village business!”

Sena nodded eagerly. She squeezed Elira’s hand, dragged her back through the stalls, and even bought her a hair ribbon.

“By the way,” Sena said mid-shopping, “are you going to wear that necklace when you dance tonight?”

Elira followed Sena’s chin and automatically touched the arrow-shaped pendant—the necklace she hadn’t taken off since the day she received it.

“Why?”

“It’s pretty,” Sena said, “but it doesn’t match your dress. Too simple. Wouldn’t pearls be better? Want to buy one?”

Elira shook her head fast. “No! This necklace chases bad luck away. The elder blessed it herself. I won’t trade it for pearls, no matter the price!”

Sena laughed out loud. She knew it wasn’t about the blessing, but about who gave the necklace. If it’s like this, isn’t Elira being a little obvious?

Elira’s lips puckered in annoyance. She strode ahead, leaving Sena to laugh on her own.

How rude! Elira didn’t care about the dress—she’d wear this necklace even with a straw outfit. Besides, Raka worked so hard to win that competition. Why would she trade it for some pearls?

Her feet halted again the moment Raka’s name crossed her mind. The bad feeling she’d pushed down came rushing back.

Right. If something was happening between Kamura and Ashira, what would Raka do? But he’d promised not to go anywhere today. He promised to wait for her to come back, clean his wound, and then they’d go to the Festival together.

Elira’s heart thudded hard. Half of her wanted to trust him. The other half whispered that Raka kept too many things from her.

“Sena,” Elira blurted, “I’m going home first. I need a nap before tonight. If anyone asks for me, say I’m fast asleep.”

“Huh? I thought you said you already slept too long?”

“Eating too much makes me drowsy. Anyway—see you tonight. Bye!”

Elira waved and hurried off, leaving a confused Sena behind. Once she was far enough, she broke into a run.

She hoped Raka was still in bed—keeping a promise he’d never once broken before.