The Seedbearing Prince: Part I by DaVaun Sanders Page B

song.”
    Dayn clapped a hand on the boy’s shoulder and
used Laman's staff to gesture toward the crowd. “Don’t you worry
about that. The Mistland girls get tired of the same boring
farmers.” The Wia Wells and Southforte boys' faces shone with pure
affront. “Besides, you haven't really danced until you've taken a
Wia Wells maiden around the Turn.”
    “Really?” Thade asked doubtfully.
    “Really. I know just the one, too. She was
standing under maidenvine when I first arrived, but I didn’t even
bother to ask for a kiss. Been going on about you Misthaveners all
week.”
    Several barely suppressed guffaws bubbled
from the group as Laman's staff singled out none other than Milede,
swishing her skirts through the booths. Thade rubbed his chin
thoughtfully. Esane feigned a cough to hide his laugh.
    “Maybe this won’t be so bad after all,” Thade
allowed. The Wia Wells boys whooped loudly for the Misthavener as
he hurried off after her.
    “And I thought Joam was the better prankster
of you two,” Esane marveled.
    “Evensong is no place for fighting,” Dayn
replied. “I'll help make the village look as good as anyone else.
What did you want to see me for?”
    The other boys circled close as Esane lowered
his voice to avoid the musicians' ears. “Some of these tenderfeet
want to go explore tonight.” A dozen expectant eyes swung to
Dayn, lit with excitement. Dayn quickly glanced at the platform.
The musicians were engaged in hot debate over the order of the
songs, paying the boys no mind.
    “He said you know the wilds best,” one of the
Misthaven boys urged. “Take us to the Dreadfall, Mistlander.”
    “I'd rather dance than spend the night
getting scratched up in redbranch,” Dayn said. He needed to stop
Esane from doing something foolish once night fell. “Could be
muddy, too. The Elders think the mist will come early this year.”
Esane gave Dayn a questioning frown.
    “But we might never get another chance,” one
of the Southforte boys whispered. “They say the deadwisps steal
away from guarding the heartrock to weep at the midnight sun. Their
songs will drive you mad if you listen too long.”
    Dayn opened his mouth then closed it again
with a frown. He could not tell the boy about his foolishness
without giving away his own forbidden knowledge.
    “They sing about all the worlds lost to the
torrent. If they see you with a torch, they’ll chase you until
dawn!” “Not if you get rid of the clothes you wore there,” a
Misthaven boy corrected. At Dayn's astonished look, he added, as if
it were the most natural thing in the world, “So they won’t
recognize you.”
    “They’ll steal your eyes and hide them in
Shard’s heartrock. If you go looking for them, they'll cast you
down the cliffs.”
    “You'll fall forever.” They all nodded
fervently on that point and shivered. “To the other side and back
again until the Last Mist rises.”
    Dayn could scarcely believe his ears. “But
how can you look for your eyes, if they’ve already―” He cut off at
a jab from Esane’s elbow.
    “Sorry, Dayn. I think that flute player is
eavesdropping.”
    Esane must have been pumping these ridiculous
stories into their heads for years. Dayn could already
imagine him tomorrow, chortling about the Misthaveners he tricked
into running naked through redbranch in the dark. The other Wia
Wells boys' eyes twinkled mischievously, too.
    So they’re all in on the prank, Dayn
thought. I would be too, if it were any other night. But with
that man I saw...peace, maybe he was a deadwisp!
    A doubtful looking Southforte boy, younger
than the rest piped up. “We probably couldn't get close enough to
spit in the Dreadfall. Some wreathweaver or gravespinner would make
a feast of us all, first. If you need an idea of their handiwork,
look right there.”
    Easing himself onto a blanket near the back
of the Speaker’s Turn, old Nerlin sat in his usual place, muttering
to himself as he always did. Furrows creased his