As the Macintosh clan rowed up to the dock, Merida could hear the clansmen singing a rousing song of summer. They were just as excited about the festival as the DunBroch clan was.

“Oi! DunBroch!” a voice bellowed from the deck of the boat. It was Lord Macintosh.

“Oi! Macintosh!” King Fergus roared back.

“To the Rites!” both rulers yelled together. The DunBroch and Macintosh clans burst into cheers.

“Oi! Merida!” a new voice called out.

Merida looked up to see Young Macintosh climbing off the boat. Merida hadn’t seen Young Macintosh since the competition for her hand in marriage, but his confident swagger hadn’t changed a bit.

Merida watched Young Macintosh run up to her. He was tall and athletic, with a swirl of blue paint on his right arm. Merida wondered if he’d ever start painting blue streaks on his face, like his father, Lord Macintosh, did.

“Oi! Young Macintosh!” Merida replied. “I see you’ve come to impress us with your feats of strength again.”

“And impressed you’ll be, I’m sure,” he said, puffing out his chest proudly. The sunlight glinted off a ring of silver that was fastened to his kilt sash.

“What’s that, now?” Merida asked curiously.

Young Macintosh polished the ring with his hand. “It’s the Macintosh crest,” he told her.

“Oh, fancy, are we?” Merida teased. But she knew that Young Macintosh had every reason to be pleased with his crest. A family crest was very special.

“Don’t you have a crest of your own?” Young Macintosh asked with a maddening grin.

“No—but I have these,” Merida replied, showing him the charms on her bow.

“What is that, a thistle?” Young Macintosh said as he glanced at one of the charms. “That’s fitting for you. You’re both prickly and stubborn.”

“I’d rather be prickly like a thistle than arrogant like a peacock!” Merida snapped.

“Who are you calling a peacock?” Young Macintosh demanded.

Merida opened her eyes wide. “Oh, nobody,” she said, shifting her bow from one arm to the other. “A peacock surely couldn’t shoot an arrow and make a bull’s-eye three times in a row. What do you think—could you?”

“Of course I could,” Young Macintosh announced, tossing his shiny black hair.

“Good!” Merida said brightly. “Let’s go see you do it, then. That’s a fitting challenge to start the Rites of Summer.” With that, Merida glanced over her shoulder. Her parents and Lord Macintosh had finished greeting each other and had begun leading the processional back toward the castle. She turned and ran up to her parents to join them.

“Wait!” Young Macintosh spoke up, approaching Merida. She could tell from the worried look on his face that he had remembered the last archery competition for Merida’s hand in marriage. Not only had Young Macintosh’s arrow missed the mark, he’d been so upset that he’d thrown a huge tantrum! Then Young Macintosh had banged his bow on the ground—and even thrown it into the crowd!

“Let’s toss some cabers, instead,” continued Young Macintosh. “Unless you don’t think you can handle one.”

Merida frowned. If she agreed to Young Macintosh’s challenge, she’d be at a big disadvantage. The heavy cabers were made from tree trunks. Young Macintosh, with his large muscles, would almost certainly be able to throw one farther than Merida. She wanted to find a challenge where they would be evenly matched.

Soon, everyone had entered the castle and was buzzing with excitement about what the day had in store. Merida and Young Macintosh were lingering outside of King Fergus’s stables. With Queen Elinor supervising all the activity, Merida knew she and Young Macintosh wouldn’t be missed. They just had to make it back to the castle in time for the welcoming ceremony and afternoon feast.

“How about a race, then?” Merida suggested. “A race…to the top…of the Fire Falls!”

Young Macintosh looked surprised. “To the top of the Fire Falls!” he exclaimed. “You could never make it!”

“Aye, I can. I have before,” Merida replied confidently. “But if you’re not certain you could make the climb, we can do something else.”

“I’m an excellent climber—the best in my clan!” Young Macintosh bragged.

“Then I’ll be waiting for you at the top of the falls—after I win!” cried Merida. She looped her bow over her shoulder, headed over to her horse, Angus, and raced away from the castle.

Young Macintosh recognized a challenge when he saw one. With a loud whoop, he ducked into the king’s stables, climbed onto one of the horses, and took off after Merida.

“You can’t possibly think you’ll make it to the top before I do!” Young Macintosh called.

“Oh, I don’t think it,” Merida said. “I know it!”

Angus galloped forward with an extra burst of speed, but Young Macintosh’s horse was already right beside him. They raced through fields where purple-headed thistles poked up from soft green grass. Then Merida thought of a shortcut. She steered Angus into a forest of ancient trees, with Young Macintosh and his steed just steps away. The dim forest was full of shadows, but the horses were sure-footed as they stepped over twisted roots. Merida and Young Macintosh reached the Fire Falls at the same time, tethered the horses, and began to climb the craggy rocks.

“You might as well stay at the bottom,” Young Macintosh yelled over the rushing of the waterfall. “I’ll reach the top and be back down again before you’ve even gone halfway!”

“Don’t be a numpty!” Merida retorted. “I’ve done this climb more times than you. I’ve even drunk from the Fire Falls, just like the ancient kings.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Young Macintosh laughed.

At that moment, Merida reached the Crone’s Tooth, a rocky platform more than halfway up to the top. After making sure that Young Macintosh was watching, she leaned backward to take a big gulp of the sparkling water rushing over the falls. Despite himself, Young Macintosh looked impressed.

But in a flash, he took advantage of Merida’s pause and climbed into the lead!

“See you at the top!” he called.

Merida gritted her teeth and raced to catch up. Soon, she and Young Macintosh were neck and neck.

At the very top of the falls, Merida used a last burst of strength to pull herself over the rocky ledge. “I won! I did it,” she gasped.

“You did no such thing!” argued Young Macintosh. He had also reached the top.

“Aye, I did,” she shot back. “My hand was over the rock first.”

“But my hand is bigger than yours,” Young Macintosh snapped. “So it was farther over the rock, which means I won.”

Merida put her hands on her hips. “I think your head is dizzy from the climb—” she started to say.

Then Merida stopped herself. She knew that her mum wouldn’t want her to insult one of their guests during the Rites of Summer—even if he did deserve it. Instead, she knelt down by the stream to splash some cool water on her face. Young Macintosh did the same.

“This is a fine waterfall you’ve got here,” Young Macintosh said in a friendlier tone. “I would climb these rocks all the time, if I lived in DunBroch.”

Merida wondered if he was trying to be on his best behavior, too. “I’m sure you would,” she replied as she gazed out over the falls. She could see the horses pacing in the grass far below and Castle DunBroch in the distance. Some of the Macintosh clan’s bright-colored tents had already been set up around the castle. Merida knew that she and Young Macintosh had time before they were expected back at the castle—but not much.

Then Merida turned around. The flowing stream that fed the waterfall twisted through the landscape like a shimmering snake. Merida had watched the rushing Fire Falls since she was a young girl. But she had never given much thought as to where the water started.

“Where do you think the water comes from?” she asked Young Macintosh as she stared at the stream.

“You mean to say you don’t know?” he said in surprise.

“No, I don’t,” Merida replied. “But today’s the day I find out!”