"Brothers. Sisters. Friends and honored guests. Here we are again, another night, another fire. We celebrate a victory in a battle none of us wished to see, and we revel that none were lost. We welcome our brothers and sisters from a distant land, and we remember their bravery and their willingness to not only fight alongside us, but to take initiative and fight when we are lost.

"Tonight, we remember our brothers and sisters who have settled down into lives outside the wars and the fighting, but most of all, we remember those who have sacrificed to the end that we may live on. For their lives, and for their memory, we train in the ways only we can. And we have invited our five new friends into the fold that keeps us safe. They have run, they have fought. And tonight, we dance."

A roar burst from the crowd, people yelling and whistling and cheering. Erika did nothing to stop it, just smiled at the group. When they quieted, she continued, "For you who don't know, this was started as an accident. It just happened, and has since become a way of life, both in tradition and in training.

"Tonight, for our honored brethren, I have asked the Dance to be led by our own Tawny and Merrik." A cheer broke out, and Erika called out, "Merrik, Tawny, if you please." The crowd quickly parted in two lines as the pair stood and made their ways to the front. Tawny, a mocha-skinned girl with auburn hair, picked up one of the long sticks that had been wrapped earlier on one end. Merrik stood off to the side and removed his shirt. His coarse black hair thinly covered his olive chest.

Erika motioned to Karl and his friends. "Please, come to the front. This is for you, after all." Karl stood up and followed his friends to the front. The crowd parted for them also, making Karl feel truly honored to be there. As they walked, somewhere in the circle a drum was beat, slow and steady.

Karl watched as Tawny closed her eyes and began to move to the beat, swaying back and forth, to and fro. She began to swing the burning stick, back and forth and in circles around her. The drum sped up and Tawny adjusted her speed to match. Another drum sounded, the pair playing an eerie but relaxing tune, and Tawny began spinning and swirling, the flame flying and twirling around her.

Karl looked at Merrik. He was stretching off to the side. His breathing resembled the way Karl had learned from Fae. Slow, steady. In, out. He finished his stretching and walked close to Tawny as she spun the burning stick. The flames created streaks in the air, a giant orange and red worm that danced around Tawny.

For a moment, Merrik watched the flames as they moved through the air, swirling and flowing. Then he began to move to the beat and suddenly he was next to Tawny, dancing around her as she twirled the flames around her. The pair moved and swayed together, perfectly in sync. Tawny's eyes remained closed, Karl noted, which meant that Merrik was moving to Tawny. She continued to twirl the flaming stick this way and that, the whole crowd watching in amazement. As Tawny spun, Merrik would duck, drop or bend. If her fire swung mid-level, he would spin, bow or lay flat. Every move she made, he would counter in turn, both in rhythm, both in time.

Karl gasped as the reality hit him of what was going on. Emily shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. "It's practice for a fight," he said. Emily looked back to the duo, still moving, still fluid together.

"How?" Emily asked.

"It's a sword fight," he replied. "Look. Watch how he adjusts to her as she moves. Her eyes are closed so she has no idea where he is. She just dances. He is forced to counter what she does. He has to anticipate where the flame will be and move to avoid it or get burned."

"Okay," Emily said, trying to see how Karl was seeing.

"Imagine her fire stick is a sword," Karl offered. "And pretend she is attacking him, and he has to avoid her blade."

That clicked. "Oh!" Emily understood. "Wow... That makes it so much more beautiful."

"Exactly," said another voice behind them: Cameron. They turned to look at him; he watched the dance. "The first few years we wandered," Cameron said, "we lost a lot of friends in battles. Inexperience took many good souls. They had heart, but heart is not enough to survive in a war. We practiced with wooden sticks, but there's no danger in stick fighting. We needed something more. We needed incentive.

"It was Erika who thought of it. One night, one of our now-late friends was messing around, showing off with a fire dance, swinging around bolas covered in tar and cloth-on-fire. He would swing them about, the light a spectacle, the distraction needed to keep spirits up.

"In the middle of his show, Erika just stepped up to him and started dancing. Somewhere in there she got right in the path of the ball. But it never hit her. She would twist and move with the fire, and the fire dance was born.

"Now it's an entertaining way to keep in practice for real battles. Yeah, we sometimes come out with a small burn or two, but it's so much better than losing a limb."

"That's amazing," said Emily.

"You can try it if you want," Cameron offered.

"No thanks," she said. "I'd never be able to do that."

"Come on," he said, offering his hand. "I'll go easy on you."

She giggled. "You say that now..."

Cameron cut her off. "Promise. I'll keep my eyes open. The fire will never come too close."

"That's reassuring," Emily said. But she extended her hand and took his. He pulled her to her feet and guided her to the fire. Cameron reached in and pulled out two smaller sticks, both flaming near one tip, but mostly still unburnt.

He turned to Emily. "I'll let you start," he said. "Just do whatever feels natural and I'll follow."

The beat sounded in the background and Emily started to move to match. Although her nerves about the fire made her a little unsteady, she had soon closed her eyes and simply danced. True to his word, Cameron twirled the sticks close, but not so close as to burn her.

Even as they moved together, other members of the tribe paired off in twos and threes to dance the Fire Dance.

Julie was asked to dance with one of the guys and Bob had paired with two girls. Oddly enough, he was the one with the fire. The two girls spun and twisted, bending and flowing to the music.

More drums picked up, creating more of a melody than a rhythm, and a few people clapped their hands. Karl moved closer to watch. Off to the side he noticed Sam adding fuel to the fire with Bryan, and preparing more sticks.

Karl found his way to the drum circle and soon held a small drum, beating in time to the rest. His hands slapped away, tap tap tapping the drum. Someone seated himself opposite Karl and began a rhythm on Karl's drum. Karl, still tapping, watched the young man as he alternated palm, fist and fingers. Karl matched, then offset his into a mini-melody, the pair tapping and thumping away.

Looking around, Karl saw a smile lighting up faces everywhere. After the skeeltahn, after the running and the training, the spirit of this group had turned around completely from trying to stay alive to enjoying life. The night went on; people rotated between dancing and drumming, talking and taking care of the fire and sticks for a time. There was happiness in this group. All cares forgotten, all worries aside, the tribe was free.

Someone sat down next to Karl. The quickest of glances told him it was Nichole. He smiled at her; her face lit up. "Are you enjoying your night?" Karl asked.

"Yes," Nichole replied. "I haven't seen everyone like this in a long time."

"Have you been up to dance?"

"Not yet," she replied.

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "Not in the mood tonight, I guess. What about you?"

Karl shook his head. "No, I don't dance."

"Oh, I see." Karl thought he heard a hint of disappointment. He looked at her, but Nichole had looked away. Karl looked to his front, the fellow before him tapping on the same drum returned the gaze. The boy shot a quick glance toward Nichole, then looked Karl directly in the eye and nodded his head toward the girl. Karl cocked his head to one side, one eyebrow raised. Again the boy nodded toward Nichole. Karl turned and looked at her. His own drumming faltered, the slowed. He put a hand on the shoulder of the girl next to him.

"Let's dance."