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“The usual sword fighting, huh?”
Harvey wiggled the shovel in the ground, then stepped back. “Yeah, that and archery competitions.”
Nox took his place and swung the pickax. It thunked against stone. “I was more—” He swung again, and small sparks popped up. “—of a beach bum—” Again and chips of rock went airborne. “—sneak-a-beer-by-the-bonfire—” Another impact shattered the stone. “—type, myself.” He stepped back.
Harvey dug. “Oh, I did that too. Not the beer part. Usually wine. The really good wine.”
They continued to move earth until sweat soaked their clothes and Harvey called it finished.
Nox grunted as he climbed out of the knee-deep hole. “I hope that’s deep enough.”
“Should be. If it’s not, Tanner can do the rest himself.” Harvey stuck the shovel in the ground, and Nox propped the pickax against it.
“Help me get these rocks to build a spot for the spit roast.”
When they had finished the ring of stone, Nox went back for more rock.
“What are you doing? This is big enough.” Harvey picked up a post.
“If you layer rock on the bottom and put the wood on top, there will be gaps for the air to circulate under the wood. Makes it burn evenly.” He carried over the larger, flatter stones and laid them down. “Plus, the rocks absorb the heat and the pit will be warm even after everything burns out.”
“Never thought about doing that before.” Harvey hammered the first metal T-post into the ground.
Nox laughed. “I can’t take the credit. I had a friend show me years ago.”
“Was he a Boy Scout?”
“No. He used to make pits like this on the beach to do glassblowing.” Nox dropped two more stones in place and pushed them deeper into the ground with his boot. “He made everything from fish and wind chimes to spoons.”
“Since when are spoons made of glass or is that one of thosein the last twenty yearsthing?”
“Not spoons you eat with, pot pipes.”
Harvey snorted. “I think I liked the idea of spoons better.”
“Hey, they were nice looking. People would come from all over to buy them. Not that I know much about smoking pot. Tried it once, did nothing for me except make me cough till I saw spots.”
Harvey laughed. “Ever try to get drunk?”
“That, I’ve done.”
“But it didn’t last long, and it took ten times more alcohol than anyone else.” Harvey said it with the kind of knowing a person had with lots of trial and error.
“How’d you know?”
“It’s like that for any beta. Our metabolisms are higher. More so after we take a wolf. Then you have to drink so much it’s not even worth trying.”
“You say beta like it’s what you are. Not what you became after… you….”
“Took a wolf?”
“Yeah.”
“Because I was. We’re born what we are. Sometimes it takes a while to figure it out, but we don’tbecomeanything.” He slid the post hammer over the top of another post, lifted it, and slammed it down. The impact rang out in dull bell tones over the field.
“Isaiah said I’m not human.”
Harvey slammed the post hammer again. “If you were, the Anubis would have rejected you.” He used the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
