“Maeva, you look radiant,” she says, smiling. “Are you ready for the night of your life?”

I return her smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply.

With four quick strides, Cara is at my side and dragging me toward the stairs.

“Well, come on then! We don’t want to be late. Everyone is so excited to celebrate your special day,” she exclaims.

“They are?” I ask.

“Indeed. I’ve told you for months that my friends were desperate to meet you since I talk about you so often,” she replies.

“What could you have possibly told them to elicit such a response?” I ask, a little wary.

“Oh you know, just that my beautiful sister-friend is quite humorous and quick-witted. I also might have mentioned the time you ran through the backyard chasing a pig in your nightgown,” she teases.

“Why in all of Celestae would you ever tellthatstory?” I gasp.

She winces. “Well, it was funny, and we were swapping stories on the hilarious oddities of our siblings,” she says quietly.

“And you thought my nightgown pig chase was the winner?” I ask incredulously.

“Maybe… okay, yes! That was a long time ago, though. I am sure none of them even remember it,” she replies.

“You better hope they don’t, or I’ll tell them of the special cookies you made for dear old Mr. Friedrich after our last spring courses,” I retort.

Cara looks me straight in the eye with a glint of amusement twinkling in her irises. “You wouldn’t dare,” she challenges.

“Oh, but I would,ifthey bring up my pig story,” I reply with a cheeky grin.

As we reach the bottom landing, a chorus of oohs and ahs flood from the family members lingering in the foyer. They hug us and remind us to be careful this evening. After many reassurances that we will be safe, Cara and I make our way out the door and into the brisk air to conquer the night to be remembered.

The walkto the tavern is fortunately uneventful. In the woods, just beyond the boundaries of Aurelius, the spirits are screaming and moaning into the night. Their nightly wails used to bother me, but I’ve grown quite accustomed to them over the years. I hear their screams as a plea to be set free, but there is not a soul who can undo what the Drakhul has wrought on Malvoria. No one really knows or understands how the Drakhul is at the command of King Tiernan, nor why it poisons everything that comes into contact with it.

On more rare occasions, one of the creatures will venture into the village and wreak havoc on the constituents of the tavern or late night shops, but the last incident was months ago…thank Siorai.

As we walk closer to the tavern, the dark streets are riddled with silhouetted soldiers in their black armor. We keep our heads down so as not to draw their attention. When we reach the entrance tothe tavern, I am stunned by how different it looks in the evening. It is a rather large, yet quaint, wooden building with a thatched roof and several large windows on the front. Soft pale light floats through the glass, inviting us to come in from the caliginous night.

Soft folk music floats through the air from within the establishment. The beautiful melody is performed on a fiddle, flute, and cello. The tavern also adorns an outdoor sitting area with chairs and long benches as twinkling lights shimmer from above. It reminds me of the stars in the night sky that I love to gaze upon so often.

At one of the long outdoor benches, a group of four is seated, laughing and talking over tankards of ale. From what I can make out through the thinning mist, there are at least two females and two males. Once we are within viewing distance, one of the women looks up and waves enthusiastically in our direction.

“Hey Cara! We are over here,” she shouts.

In unison, the other three turn at our arrival and wave. Now that we’re closer to the group, I can make out more of their features under the soft glow of the lights. The man sitting on the far side of the bench appears to be tall with soft features and blonde hair that falls to his shoulders. The woman to his left—the one that waved us over—has short-cropped black hair, olive skin, and piercing onyx eyes. The woman across from her has medium-length, pale blonde hair, and icy blue eyes. The last of the companions, the other man, has deep chestnut hair that’s styled well, olive skin, and onyx eyes, similar to the first woman.

“Everyone, this is my sister and best friend, Maeva,” Cara says, introducing me.

The group smiles, sharing their hellos. The first woman rounds the table, wrapping me in one of the tightest embraces I’ve ever experienced. “It is SO good to finally meet you! Cara has told us so much about you. I feel like we are friends already,” she says excitedly.

“It is very lovely to meet you too, “ I say quietly.

I’m not sure what else to say to this peppy woman. She’s looking at me, expecting me to know who she is, but honestly, I’ve only knownthat Cara had friends—not their names. I give Cara a sideways glance, and she immediately understands what I am asking her to do.

“Oh, where are my manners? Maeva, these are my friends. Aria (the one with the black hair), Cormac (the blonde-headed man), Enid (the blonde woman), and this is Gawain,” she says, sitting by the chestnut-brown-haired man.

He nods his head with a slightly tilted smile. He’s quite handsome. His appearance is constructed of sharp lines and strong muscles, with a lone dimple on his chin. As I continue to gawk at him, his smile widens into a dazzling grin, as if he finds my befuddlement amusing.