The wolf had stolen the show from the beginning.
There had been cheers at the smoking barrel and the usual laughs when Bevil had suddenly doubled in size, but the kids were completely taken with the very docile, well behaved, and pet-abiding wolf Amie had conjured for them. They were too busy sinking their hands in his fur to even notice us leaving. Retta, however, had rushed to our side with a beaming smile.
"Well done, ladies, well done!" she gushed. "I hadn't seen such a display of magic since… well, it's surely been a long time."
Usually, it was easy to forget West Harbor had been destroyed almost twenty years ago. We youngsters weren't old enough the remember and those who did liked to pretend it had never happened. The Harvest Trials were the only true remnant of the war, but sometimes the older harbormen would look haunted after loud noises or completely innocent, barely explosive arcane mishaps. Retta was more composed than most, but even she was wary the times she had picked me up from Tarmas' house. Magic had a history of bringing desolation here. Then again, it also did a mighty job killing lizardmen.
"It helps that we've had a good crowd this year," answered Amie. Her eyes lighted up as she spoke. "Georg's said all the families from the outlying farms have come and Galen thinks he's seen some folks from Neverwinter."
"It's good to see so many people here," agreed Bevil. "In a few years we'll have as much trade as Thundertree."
Of course, Bevil, and we'll gift Tarrasque pups to the visitors.
"Everyone seems to be having fun," I concurred. Then I turned to Retta with my most winsome smile. We had important business here. "So, just to make it official, we've won right? Right? Haven't we?"
A small laugh scaped her before she elegantly covered her mouth.
"Yes dear, you've done wonderfully, and I formally declare this team the winner of this year's Tourney of Talent. Now, for all that's holy, please go see Tarmas. If no one solves his riddle soon, he's going to start turning people into toads. And speaking of him, before I forget," Retta took a carefully wrapped envelope of her satchel and handed it to Amie. "He left this for you girls, to be given after you won."
"Thank you, Mrs Starling!" Amie was positively beaming, looking at the small, flat package like it contained the secrets of the universe. "Master Tarmas promised to teach us new spells this season."
"Well, that's lovely darling, but be careful," Retta smiled. "Now, shoo. I've to go see how the food is coming along. Go have fun!"
After the protocolary farewell hugs, kisses, and an affectionate cheek pat for Amie we were left to our own devices.
"Alright," I clapped my hands together. "I say we get the Knaves Challenge out of the way first, and save Tarmas an apoplectic fit, then stop by the shooting competition and afterwards we figure out how to make the Mossfelds regret being born. All in favour?"
Bevil and Amie exchanged looks.
"Alright," accepted Bevil. "I think Tarmas is in one of the tents by the stage."
"Perfect!" I chirped. "We just need to take a little detour first."
"I can't believe this," hissed Amie. "You are bribing children. Children, Shelly."
"Untwist your knickers, Ames. It's not bribery, just… a reward for a job well done. Material encouragement, if you will." I looked at the small gathering of kids behind us, now busy eating the assortment of pastries, sweet tarts, and candy I had bought them. "They are happy, fed and not bothering their parents. Everybody wins. Besides, we know where the three feathers are without having to suffer through Tarmas' attempts at poetry. Look me in the eye and tell me it's not worth it. "
"Just… how long have you been planning this?" She asked wearily.
"Since last year. After Jon Harman's Dunghill Incident, I thought it would be best to know where to look beforehand."
Bevil kept looking between the me and the kids with a light frown.
"Isn't this cheating?" he asked with the scandalized trepidation usually saved for really gruesome murders or to discuss why Lewy Jons spent so much time in his goat pen. "It's not like we've figured it out ourselves."
"Actually, it isn't!" I countered happily. "We can't steal the feathers from other participants or watch where the proctor hides them. There's nothing against asking non-competitors. Believe me, I've checked."
There was an agreement amongst the adults to not tell us anything mostly, I believed, to watch us search in increasingly ridiculous places. If no one had told the little dears of our village, eager but still too young to form a team, it wasn't my problem.
"Lathander's light," muttered Amie. She shook her head and tapped her chin in her usual thinking pose. "Anyway, we still need to find out how to actually get them. I'm still working on Knock and, unfortunately, feathers are flammable. And that's not even thinking about the trapped logs. Georg wouldn't allow anything truly dangerous, but still, we need to figure out how to dismantle them. And by the way, I'm not putting my hands anywhere near any man's pockets either, Trials or no Trials."
"Are you sure Ames? We would all honour such a noble sacrifice, and who knows? You might get a new friend out of it. One who looks quite good in green." I barely dodged the lemon tart she threw at my head. While trying not to laugh, I raised my hands in a placating gesture and rolled my eyes. "Geez Amie, it was just a joke. And Bevil, don't get worked up. I promise my plan lets everyone keep their honour and dignity intact. It's like I haven't known you all my life or anything. We are just going to tackle this the best way there is: we call in the expert. Now come on, follow me."
I motioned them to get moving and we cut through the crowd to a little out of the way field where, under the Retta's watchful eye, the real magic of the Fair was taking place. The best West Harbor cooks were busy in a frenzy of baking, stuffing and roasting to feed our visitors and probably all their extended family. Amidst the frantic flurry of activity, if one was to pay attention, a small body could be seen moving efficiently between cooling trays and, with uncanny stealth, swiftly pilfering some of their goods.
Bevil, unaware of the ongoing theft three feet away, went straight to his mother, probably to see how he could help, while Amie took in the scene with a raised eyebrow.
"Seriously, Shelly? Kipp? That's your master plan?"
"Hey, he has stolen from almost every house in West Harbor. He knows what he's doing."
"Exactly! How can we trust him?" Amie whispered harshly. "Master Tarmas is onto him; he's been taking potions and raiding the reagent cupboard for years now."
"That's the whole point, Ames!" I tried to keep the irritation from my voice. Kipp could be a slippery little twerp when we wanted to, but if you bothered to look past his kleptomania and purposeful lack of manners, he was a decent kid. You just had to be patient and, if possible, bribe him with sweets. "Look, he's been stealing from Tarmas house – your house Amie, think about that for a minute – for years. Do you honestly believe he won't breeze through whatever Tarmas has set up for the Fair? You realize he wants someone to win this quickly, right? The sooner it's done, the sooner he gets to go home."
"Well, apologies for not wanting to team up with someone who regularly breaks into my home." Amie spat.
"Then I hope your secret locksmith skills are up to snuff." My patience was wearing thin, and I could feel a familiar tingling in my hands. Do not get angry, Shelly. Breath. I took a deep breath and tried to put on a smile. "Alright, Amie. I know you don't like Kipp and you have reason not to. I'm sorry if I seemed dismissive just now, but think about it. This is our last year and let's be real for a moment, if not us, you know who is going to win, right? The Mossfelds. If Wyl is an unbearable git now, imagine how he'll get once he has the cup."
It was working. Her lips were still pursed, but she had loosened her shoulders and unclenched her jaw. She seemed more resigned than angry.
"Wouldn't it be much better if when you finish Tarmas' basic training and go to study in Waterdeep or to liberate Thay or whatever you set your mind to, you do it with the Harvest Cloak billowing dramatically in the wind? You could even hit Wyl when you turn and claim it was an accident."
Amie laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Alright fine, we are getting Kipp."
A/N: Hi! I'm alive and writing the next chapter. This one has been in my hard drive for months until I realized it actually didn't need to be longer and I could stop agonizing over it. I'll try to update before next year. Pinky promise.
As usual, please, let me know what you think. This will improve a lot faster with your imput.