Quite a few eyes narrowed at her, while others gulped and averted their gaze.
"Surely, we can say," said the chubby, loudmouth. "It's got nothing to do with her."
"But it's got everything to do with her. Doesn't she seem like she might be the…"
The person trailed off as if realizing Salīa was there again.
"Even more reason to tell her about The Whistler, then," the loudmouth snapped his fingers.
"Shh," they tried hushing him.
"Don't shh," Salīa sat down between them, poking at the fire. "We've shared plenty of stories together, haven't we? Why can't I hear this one? Who's The Whistler?"
All went quiet. Even the loudmouth just sipped his flask.
"It's just a rumor," one waved off, his face barely visible under his large hood. "Ever heard the poem?
The Whistler walks where the weepers may lie,
And they beg him to rid them of demons
And so for some coin and a promise to match,
He pulls out his pipe and starts breathing
He looks at the rats as they run down the road
And what do you know,
They're out scattering and scrambling from their spot
All vermin may try and try they will do,
But one thing to know, and know it quite well,
is The Whistler is not one to stop…"
Salīa inhaled deeply, feeling that prickly feeling at her heart again.
"The Whistler," she recalled. "I remember now. All the kids in Khīama know that one, don't they?"
"Of course," the loudmouth added. "They must. For it's not really a poem, but a warning."
"Shh," the others tried.
"Oh, come on. She needs to know about the missing children."
"Shh," they tried covering his mouth.
"Missing children?"
They all glared at the loudmouth. All except the man in the hood.
"'The Whistler is not one to stop,'" the one with the large hood repeated. "He will do anything to keep a promise. And remember, it usually takes at least two to fulfil one."
Salīa couldn't help but pick at her nails. She wasn't entirely sure what they were saying, yet it was making her think all sorts of things.
"Please, put it plainly. What do you mean by missing children?"
"Fine," the loudmouth finally said after all the quiet. "This is what's happen—"
"Princess," Magi On called, looking down at her with grim eyes.
The same he'd shown her much earlier. It seemed like a warning to the campers, too. For all chattering, even from the campers at other fires, had silenced.
She felt her face heat and stood up to disrupt their no longer jovial faces.
"Bye," she waved to them, and they nodded, their faces crinkling.
Magi On said nothing more as he led her to where she was called to.
X