“It’s a little late to be saying so, but maybe we went too far,” Charolles commented.
“I agree, actually.”
We were standing side by side, looking up at the pile of firewood we’d made in the center of the courtyard in front of the temple. We’d used the wood from the stores behind the temple. Unlike household firewood that was split into smaller sections, these were huge, whole logs merely stripped of their bark—probably meant to be used for the festival in question. While Charolles was stronger than she looked due to having some animal traits, it had still been an ordeal to carry them here, even working as a pair.
“Is this what you meant by ‘bonfire’?” she asked.
“Well...I’ve never actually made one.”
“I’m noticing a trend here.”
“It’s something all guys want to do if they get the chance.”
We’d stacked the wood into a square, with thinner branches and leaves piled up in the center. We’d put some mana stones—normally used as fuel for our vehicles—in there as well, so I was pretty sure it’d burn well.
“Keisuke, is this the right thickness?” Nito asked.
“Perfect.”
She was cutting vegetables on a long table we’d also fetched out of the storeroom. We’d found three barbecue grills, as well, which were essentially metal boxes on legs. Off to the side sat a collection of fresh meat and vegetables that Charolles had provided, along with a bunch of preserved food from the vault we’d gotten Paula to tell us about earlier in the day. We’d gotten the preparations for the festival finished, so now all we had left was to wait for everyone to turn up.
I checked my watch to see the time we’d written on the invitations was fast approaching. The sky was darkening steadily—deep blue stretched out above madder red, the two shades blending into a tranquil purple in the middle.
Fago was the first to arrive, carrying something on a tray. I hurried over to help and smelled something sweet.
“What are they?” I asked, gesturing toward the tray. “They smell great.”
“Scones. I mixed walnuts and dried fruits into the dough. You can’t have a festival without them.”
The “scones” were big yellow puffs and looked pillowy soft. I guessed that they were some regional variation on steamed buns. I took the tray and found that the air above it felt warm, as if they were freshly baked. That made me want to pick one up and just dig into it. Swallowing the drool pooling in my mouth before it could escape, I put the tray down on one of the tables.
Fago took one glance at our bonfire and gave me a flat look.
“Are you trying to burn down the temple?”
Yeah, guess it was too big, I thought with chagrin.
While I was giving our excuses to Fago, Monty came up the hill. Surprisingly, he was pushing a bike. He patted the saddle when he saw the surprise on my face.
“It’s safer than a car and easy to park. Makes a great vehicle, at least until you run up against a hill.”
He stopped the bike and opened the wooden box on its luggage rack, pulling out a fish that looked something like a trout.
“I caught this earlier. You can do what you like with it.”
“Wow, thank you... Were you looking forward to this?”
The fish was obviously fresh, almost straight from the water. He must have gone out onto the lake for it. It was clearly a gift he’d put some effort into.
“It’s a matter of courtesy,” he said, stroking his whiskers. “It has nothing to do with any anticipation on my part.”
“Hmph,” Fago interrupted. “You’ve gotten sulkier as the years have gone by.”
“Oh my, it’s you. Here I’d thought you were just a pile of dried vegetables. I’m impressed you’re still clinging to life, but should you really be up and about? Don’t humans suffer with the years?”
“Better than ending up a fuzzy mop,” she retorted.
I took a step back as they let their insults fly. A full-on war had broken out between them, or so it seemed, and I didn’t want to get involved.
Instead, I took the fish and laid it on a chopping board. Nito had been chopping vegetables nearby, and she stopped to look at it with shining eyes. I doubted she’d had much chance to eat fresh fish in her life, and I could understand the almost-drooling anticipation on her face, but I’d rather have seen her looking at it like that after I’d seasoned and cooked it.
Considering the size of the fish, I reasoned that roasting it whole was probably best. It would have been great roasted along with the veggies, but unfortunately, I didn’t have any miso. While I was lost in thought mulling over my options, Charolles elbowed me.
“I know, no sashimi,” I commented.
“I didn’t say anything,” she replied, then added, “Everyone’s here.”
I followed her pointing finger to see Paula and Jill’s car pull in. It stopped and the two of them got out. Jill looked nervous, but Paula’s expression was even stiffer. Still, they didn’t just stand there; they started walking over.
Fago had been talking with Monty, but she’d stopped when they arrived and was now staring silently at Paula. There wasn’t a word spoken in the courtyard, and a strange tension hung over the entire area.
“You’re here!” I called as cheerily as I could, then waved and trotted over to them.
“I’m gonna die,” Paula murmured.
“Your face’ll get stuck like that, you know. Come on, smile.”
She paused, going still for a moment.
“Nope,” she said, pivoting around. “I’m going home. I can’t do this.”
“It’s okay. It’ll go fine,” I assured her.
“How can you be so sure?” she retorted, then groaned, “I just know it’s gonna be awful. What face is she making?”
I looked over and saw Fago talking to Nito; the girl must have seen the need to offer some encouragement.
“She’s smiling. Seems pretty happy, to be honest.”
“That’s obviously a lie, but thank you.”