[Ray's POV]
The laughter finally subsided, leaving behind a warm, comfortable silence that settled over our little group like a blanket. I was still grinning from Gale's earlier tirade about the pigeon conspiracy as I watched my companions settle into their own spaces among the tiles.
The sounds of the festival drifted up from below—the thrum of drums, the trill of flutes, the distant roar of the crowd as the performers twirled around the bonfire. The firelight cast dancing shadows on the buildings across the square, painting everything in shades of amber and gold.
I reached for a fried dumpling. It was still warm, the exterior perfectly crispy, giving way to a savory filling of pork and vegetables. The flavors burst across my tongue—garlic, ginger, a hint of soy—and I closed my eyes briefly, savoring not just the food but the moment.
When I opened them, I studied each of my companions in turn.
