We qualified for the next round. Tomorrow, the real tournament would begin. We earned our spot among the twenty, and so we got to pass our banner design that the staff was going to hang above our team's tent. Being good with drawing, it was Ivan who did the rough sketch. Our symbol coincided with our team name, of course—an outline of a hummingbird midflight, its beak as sharp and narrow as a needle. To add to the flair, Ivan put a red wavy line caught between the bird's beaks.
"The Red String of Fate," he had said with a flourish of his wrist once he was done, "four knots at the end, representing each one of us."
"How very artistic of you," praised Niko, "I thought you didn't know how to do anything else but eat and sleep."
Ivan had lifted his chin, giving Niko a look of feigned contempt. "I guess you never really knew me at all, Nikolas."
Mel and I had laughed.
