“You sure take this class seriously, Jahrra,” Senton almost grumbled next to her.
She blinked up in surprise, blowing strands of hair out of her face. “Oh, I guess I just like wildlife.”
She shrugged as Senton turned to look out over the bay again. She sensed something was wrong in her friend’s stance, but she couldn’t place what exactly it was. Maybe he didn’t like being on a boat. No, that couldn’t be it. She chewed on the end of her pencil as she studied his back. He hadn’t seemed himself these past few weeks, maybe even longer than that. Jahrra couldn’t quite put her finger on it but it was as if he’d learned some new secret about her that made him uncomfortable because his normal, amiable personality seemed to have faded. She heaved a sigh, filling her lungs with salty air, and released it. She would worry about Senton’s odd behavior later.
On their way back to the dock, Anthar reminded them all to be on their best behavior that long weekend while they enjoyed the delights of the Sobledthe festival.
“I will be out and about so remember, if any of you are planning any shenanigans I very well may see you in the act.”
He gave them all a harsh glance that Jahrra knew wasn’t all that serious, so she didn’t try too hard to hide her grin.
“So, we’re meeting in the main plaza of the University tomorrow at noon to go shopping, right?” Torrell asked as they finished up with archery practice that afternoon.
Jahrra nodded, barely able to keep the look of glee off her face. She wondered if Lidien had a scavenger hunt like Lensterans but thought it might be wise not to take part, after what happened the last time.
On their way home, Jahrra asked her friends if they had made costumes for the festival.
“Costumes are for the children,” Torrell said matter-of-factly.
Jahrra inclined her head, only slightly disappointed to hear such news, but she didn’t have anything to wear that might even resemble a costume so the four of them decided to use their day off tomorrow to purchase masks.
At noon the next day Jahrra met her three friends on the plaza below Emehriel Hall. From there they wandered out into the main part of Lidien, finding a quaint little store only a few blocks away from campus that had been set up specifically for the upcoming harvest festival. It was overflowing with costumes, magical charms, trinkets and a whole assortment of autumn decorations.
“How about this one?” Senton said once they were inside the shop, holding up a mask that resembled a grotesque goblin.
Jahrra had been looking at some small spell books, but when she turned to see what Senton was talking about she nearly cried out in terror. The mask he held was dark red and chillingly resembled the demon she had seen in the nightmares she’d had after her parents’ deaths.
Dathian had been just behind her, catching her as she nearly fell over in her shock.
The elf cast Senton a perturbed look. “Are you trying to be funny?”
Senton dropped the mask, his face slightly flushed. In embarrassment or anger, Jahrra couldn’t tell.
“No,” he spluttered. “I was just wondering if she liked it, but apparently she doesn’t.”
He sounded indignant and Dathian’s grip on Jahrra’s arms as he held her up was becoming uncomfortable. All of a sudden she felt unbearably foolish. Clearing her throat, she regained her balance and placed a hand on Dathian’s arm.
“Thank you,” she said, then turned to face Senton. “I’m sorry, Senton, I know you weren’t being mean. It’s just, I used to have nightmares, and that mask . . .”
Senton looked down at it, his grey eyes growing wide. Quickly, he thrust it behind his back.
“I’m sorry, Jahrra!” he said, his face flushing anew.
Torrell eyed them from the corner of the shop, her eyebrow arched in keen interest. Jahrra felt mildly uncomfortable, for her other friend seemed to watch them as a magician might watch the progress of his potion in a cauldron.
“How about these then,” she said, whipping her arm around from behind her back, four masks, all of a different color, hanging from strings she had looped around her index finger.
“Two of them are a little more feminine than the others, so Jahrra and I will wear those ones.”
“Yes. Fine. Let’s get them,” Jahrra said, taking hers from Torrell without even looking at it and walking to the counter.
Senton and Dathian were the first to leave the shop, Dathian as casual as ever, Senton still looking a little wound up from the mask incident. Jahrra moved to follow them, but Torrell’s arm blocking the doorway stopped her short. Blinking up at her, Jahrra opened her mouth to make a protest but her friend beat her to it.
“So, what’s with the love triangle?”
Whatever Jahrra was going to say crashed into the back of her throat on its way out.
“What?!” she managed after a long moment.
“You. Dathian. Senton. What’s going on there?”
Torrell didn’t sound angry, she never sounded angry, only curious.
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
And that was the truth; Jahrra didn’t. She knew that Senton had been acting strange of late but she never thought it might be what Torrell was suggesting.
Torrell moved her arm and crossed it over the other one, leaning against the door frame and plastering Jahrra with one of her demanding looks.
“You mean you haven’t noticed how Senton has been a little more aware of you these past several weeks, or that Dathian has been the first one to rush to your rescue if you are in trouble?”
Jahrra bristled. “No one has rushed to my rescue! How ridiculous, I haven’t been in any trouble!”
Torrell examined her fingernails. “On the boat, when you almost fell overboard, and now, when that mask frightened you. Dathian was there to make sure you were alright.”
Jahrra opened her mouth to argue, but then paused. Ethoes above, she was right. But it wasn’t what she, or even Senton, thought. Several weeks back, Jaax had made the entire Coalition swear, to Jahrra’s great chagrin, to keep an extra eye on her whenever they were in her company. And Dathian, being the honorable elf that he was, had taken the oath very seriously. He had no romantic interest in her; she knew that for a fact. But if Senton did? And if he was interpreting Dathian’s overly protective actions as Torrell had . . .
Jahrra groaned and covered her face with her hands.
“Uh huh,” Torrell said. “The kindest thing would be to tell which of them you prefer so the other can move on.”
Jahrra shot her eyes up to meet her friend’s.
“I don’t prefer either of them!” she hissed. “I mean, yes, I like Dathian and Senton immensely, they are my friends, but not in that way. Please Torrell, you have to believe me. Think about it from my perspective. Dathian’s an elf, and Senton is Resai. And I’m human. Even if that wasn’t the issue there is still the fact that I will be moving on one day, to face down the Crimson King. I don’t have time for, for romance.”
Jahrra felt strange talking about this for she never really had a reason to before now. She had always had more pressing things on her mind.
Torrell merely shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I doubt it.”
Jahrra groaned again. The last thing she needed was this mess. She didn’t want to lose Dathian’s or Senton’s friendship, but she was afraid that if her friend was correct she might not have a choice.
“Well, let’s just see how it plays out, okay? I don’t want this ruining our Sobledthe holiday,” Torrell said with a pat on Jahrra’s back.
Jahrra merely scowled at her.
“Then why bring it up at all?” she mumbled.
Torrell’s dark face cracked in a wide grin. “Because you were completely clueless. At least now you can be prepared if anything does happen, like if Senton starts taking a swing at Dathian. The boy has made vast improvements in his fighting skills but Dathian is still much better than any of us.”