The rest of the day was uneventful. Spence desperately wished they could find a safe place to discuss what they were all thinking, but the woods didn’t provide any privacy. Maybe when they reached the mountains, they could find a cave to hide in. If this was just some type of entertainment, who was the audience? Just the gods? Or were they in an alien reality TV show? It would sure beat the heck out of Survivor. What did that mean for his visit from Enki? Would the war only be more entertainment—a war between the races? Or was their theory wrong and everything Enki had said true?

The sky was dimming when Caleb found a small clearing ringed by tall trees. They quickly worked together to set up camp and were soon sitting around the fire, talking and laughing. Since they were in the protection of the forest, they all removed their armor and weapons and relaxed in their Earth clothes. Then they enjoyed another meal of elven food. They also discovered they each had a flask of the thick, red wine they had drunk with dinner the night before.

“Well, guys, this is probably the last night we’re not going to have to worry about fighting something. That deserves a drink,” Caleb said.

They retrieved their bottles, uncorked them, and touched them together. “Bottoms up,” Trey said.

Spence had lost all reservations about drinking alcohol. They were too young to drink, but they were also too young to fight monsters and perform quests for gods. The elven wine was much smoother than the Nephilim ale. The pleasant, warming feeling blazed a path from his mouth to his stomach. It had been a good, relaxing day, and the night was shaping up to be even more fun.

Soon they were all giggling and laughing and acting stupid. Then they decided to try a cappella karaoke. Morgan went first and sang a medley of Miley Cyrus songs, using a stick for a microphone. Only knowing half the words didn’t hurt the performance; she filled the missing gaps well with her own words. The finale was an attempt at twerking that nearly sent her tumbling into the fire. Spence and Caleb guffawed loudly. Trey smiled but had a strange, intense look and seemed more focused on the drinking.

Surprisingly, Caleb went next. He sang “Friends in Low Places” by Garth Brooks. His voice was remarkably strong, and he had the country twang down. The song seemed fitting for the group of adventurers. He finished to loud applause and handed the stick microphone to Spence.

Spence had never even sung in the shower. But the wine had him feeling invincible, and Caleb and Morgan had already come out of their shells. He didn’t listen to music, other than the radio in the car, and didn’t even have a music-streaming account. But he made his voice as high as possible and attempted, or butchered, Selena Gomez’s “The Heart Wants What It Wants.”

Morgan rolled on the ground laughing until tears soaked her face. Caleb hooted, hollered, and laughed harder than they had ever heard him. Trey glared at Spence, not even cracking a smile. Spence stepped closer to Morgan and sang to her. She tried to watch but struggled through the fits of laughter and tear-filled eyes.

“His heart wants you, Morgan,” Trey called out. He had finished his entire bottle of wine.

Spence turned and walked toward Trey. He leaned down and sang to him: “No, it wants you, big boy,” he said in his best female voice. This time Caleb laughed even louder than Morgan.

“Get away from me, you fucking fruit!” Trey shouted, shoving away Spence’s hand that held the stick. Spence stumbled back a few steps.

“Geez, someone can’t handle his liquor,” Spence said—something he would have never said sober.

Trey stood, swaying slightly. “What did you say?”

“I said you need to go to bed and sleep it off.” Spence saw Trey had his fists balled tightly. Caleb and Morgan had stopped laughing.

“First, you try to hit on me, and now you try to tell me what to do? I think you’ve forgotten your place.” Trey walked a few paces toward Spence.

“Trey, don’t do this,” Caleb said, also standing.

“Shut up and mind your own business, Rambo. Me and Spence are just going to practice hand-to-hand combat.” Trey slurred his words slightly.

Spence considered retreating further, but he felt good enough not to fear Trey. His head swam slightly, but he was also loose and relaxed. Plus, now he knew some fighting techniques. Spence placed his left foot in front of his right and braced himself. He still held the stick in his left hand. He had hoped Trey had changed for good, but now he had reverted to the old Trey. The alcohol had awoken the beast.

“So, Mr. Mighty Wizard. Who was it? Fart Wind?” Trey shoved Spence in the chest, sending him backpedaling a few steps. “You think you’re all bad since you helped kill a couple of monsters. And now you’re a freakin’ comedian singing your little gay song, trying to make me look gay too.” Trey closed the distance between them again. “I think you need to return to being a scared little girl.”

Spence saw the punch coming and stepped to the right. He swung the stick down and struck Trey hard with the pretend microphone in the forearm. Trey grunted as he staggered past, nearly falling to the ground. He whirled around, wobbling for a second, and charged back toward him.

Spence ducked the next swing and jabbed the stick into Trey’s stomach. The end of the stick was blunt, so it didn’t penetrate, but it caused Trey to double over and gasp for air. Spence guessed it left its mark. He didn’t want to fight Trey but knew Trey would keep coming if he didn’t. Just as Trey began to straighten up, Spence hit him with an uppercut with his right hand. The blow caught Trey in the chin and sent him staggering backward.

Trey caught himself from falling once again. His eyes were wild with rage. “I’m going to kill you, you sniveling little piece of shit!”

Spence braced himself again. Then he heard a loud crack, and a piece of wood went flying past him. Trey’s eyes rolled up into his head, and he collapsed face-first onto the ground. Morgan stood behind where Trey had stood, holding the other half of the tree branch.

“Nighty night, little girl,” Morgan said.

Caleb walked over to Spence and stared down at Trey. “Dang, I hope you all didn’t kill him.” He knelt beside Trey and placed his fingers on his neck.

“Wouldn’t be a great loss,” Morgan replied.

“He’s alive,” Caleb said, standing. “It’s just the alcohol. It must make him like his dad.”

“Or just brings out the real Trey,” Spence said. He grinned at Morgan, who returned it and dropped the branch.

“Let’s tie him up so he can sleep it off and not try anything else tonight,” Caleb said. He walked over to his pack and cut a length of rope into two pieces. They rolled Trey over and hog-tied his feet and hands. “By the way, Spence, nice fighting.”

“Well, looks like the party’s over,” Morgan said. “That’s another reason he deserved a blow to the head.”

The three left Trey where he lay and returned to the makeshift shelter. “Do you think we need to set watch tonight?” Spence asked.

“Hopefully, Illexya spoke the truth when she said we would be safe. I think we can chance it and all try to get a good night’s sleep,” Caleb replied.

The night was comfortable, so they weren’t concerned with the fire burning out. Spence lay wide awake for a while. As he listened to Trey start snoring, he experienced a mixture of emotions. He was proud of how he had fought and stood up to Trey. However, it might have turned out differently if Trey had been sober. But still, he had come a long way. Even though it had only been a week, Spence had transformed. In addition to not being paralyzed, he was stronger, mentally and physically. Spence wasn’t completely fearless, but he also wasn’t afraid of everything. He had faced death several times now and had done things he had never dreamed he could. He was no longer the insecure, nerdy wimp he had been on Earth. He had grown.

He wondered about Trey. He had thought Trey had changed since he rejoined them in the pine forest. But after a bottle of wine, he returned to the old Trey, or even worse. Who was the real Trey? Could he trust him again? He knew alcohol changed some people, and some were mean drunks. But in others, it just brought out their true selves, like a truth serum.

He thought of Enki and his offer. Earlier, when they were all sharing and bonding, he had mostly forgotten his encounter with the Draconian god. He had been committed to the quest and his friends—his squad. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He figured the gods had contacted the others by now too. They sure acted guilty when Illexya asked them. Could they all be having the same thoughts? He finally drifted off to sleep, the wine subduing his racing mind.