Seasons of Sorcery

by Jeffe Kennedy

  A silver tiara glittered on her head, while two silver swords with large rubies set into their hilts hung from her red leather belt. Thanks to my elemental Stone magic, I could hear the gems singing about how real, pretty, and expensive they were. Seemed like Darrell wasn’t the only one who spent a fortune on ren-faire treasures.

  Several people dressed in red velvet shirts, pants, and gowns were following Celeste, and they smiled and waved to the crowd, as though they were real royal lords and ladies. But my gaze skipped past them and landed on the giants at the tail end of Celeste’s entourage—tall, strong giants clad in black leather shirts, pants, and boots. Most of the knights, barbarians, and other costumed characters were carrying plastic weapons, but not these guys. I could tell by the way their silver swords glinted in the sunlight that the blades were the real deal.

  Pirate Queen Celeste stopped in an open space on the grass, grabbed her two swords off her belt, and started twirling them around and around in her hands, putting on an impromptu show. She definitely knew what she was doing, and she spun the blades around with smooth, easy grace. A minute later, she stabbed both of her swords high up into the air, finishing her flashy routine. People clapped and cheered, and Celeste bowed low, acknowledging their applause. Then she straightened up, holstered her swords, and started posing for pictures.

  Owen noticed my curious look. “Darrell said that the pirate queen roams around the faire, showing off her sword skills, judging the jesters, crowning knights, stuff like that. It’s just a way to make the event more fun and to get people excited about the noon show.”

  “And what about the giants?” I asked, jerking my head in their direction.

  “I think they’re supposed to be the pirate queen’s personal guard.”

  A couple of the giants did stay close to Celeste, but the rest moved away and started roaming through the crowd.

  “What are they doing?” I asked. “Why aren’t the giants staying with the queen if they’re supposed to be her guards?”

  “Oh, Darrell told me that he hired some giants to work security.”

  I frowned. “Why would you need so much security at a ren faire?”

  Owen shrugged. “Darrell said that folks can drink a little too much at the ale garden. They also had problems with people challenging each other to duels and real fights breaking out at the summer faire last year, so he thought it would be a good idea to have some giants around for this one. But he didn’t want to make a big deal about it, so he had them dress up like the pirate queen’s guards. Nothing to worry about.”

  I eyed one of the giants as he walked past us. That was a very strong giant carrying a very real and very sharp sword. In my experience, that was plenty to worry about.

  “I should go to the forge and get started. I’ll come over to the Pork Pit truck later, and we’ll watch the noon show. Okay?”

  I dipped into a low curtsy, with my hand pressed to my heart, as though I was a courtly lady. “As my humble blacksmith wishes.”

  Owen laughed. I straightened up, and the two of us shared a quick kiss. Owen winked at me, then headed toward the forge. I watched him go with a smile on my face, but I couldn’t quite ignore the cold finger of unease that slid down my spine.

  Perhaps it was my constant paranoia, but I couldn’t help thinking that something wasn’t quite right here—and that we were already trapped in Winter’s Web.

  Chapter Three

  I waited until Owen was safely ensconced in the forge with the other blacksmiths, then headed over to the concessions area.

  By this point, almost all the food trucks, vans, and carts were open, and people were already standing in line to get everything from gourmet tacos to old-fashioned cheeseburgers to homemade ice cream, despite the cold weather.

  The Pork Pit truck was parked at an angle across from the blacksmith forge on the far side of the picnic tables. In keeping with the ren-faire spirit, Sophia had hung out a large piece of poster board with the words Ye Olde Pork Pit written in fancy cursive with thick black marker. She’d also decorated the board with black skulls and silver hearts stuck in royal-blue cobwebs. I grinned. More like Ye Olde Goth Pork Pit.

  The food truck had been Sophia’s idea, a way for us to get out and about in the community and remind people about the good food we cooked at the restaurant. I had bought the truck and given it to her as a Christmas present, and she’d been cleaning and fixing it up ever since. We hadn’t had a chance to try it out yet, and the faire was going to be our test run.

  I knocked on the back door, and Sophia unlocked it. The inside of the Pork Pit food truck was like any other. A sink, a refrigerator, a freezer, a couple of stoves, several cabinets and drawers, lots of cooking gizmos, utensils, and containers. Everything you would need to make good, hot, hearty meals out of the back of a truck.

  Sophia handed me a black apron patterned with tiny white skulls. “You ready?” she rasped.

  I eagerly tied on the apron, since it helped to cover up my dead-bird blouse. “Let’s get cooking.”

  Sophia rolled up the metal cover on the service window, and we were officially open for business. We’d done a lot of prep work last night at the restaurant, and Sophia started heating things up, while I sliced potatoes, onions, cabbage, and carrots.

  We were going with a limited menu—pulled beef, pork, and chicken drenched in Fletcher’s secret sweet-and-spicy barbecue sauce and piled high on Sophia’s warm, yummy sourdough rolls. Our sides were creamy coleslaw, baked beans, and homemade potato chips sprinkled with dill weed and blue cheese crumbles. We had also made sweet tea and cherry limeade to quench everyone’s thirst and oatmeal-cherry crumbles to satisfy everyone’s sweet tooth.

  Finn could keep his giant turkey legs. I would much rather have Pork Pit barbecue any day of the week and twice on Sundays. And plenty of other folks agreed with me, judging by the crowd that quickly formed outside the truck.

  An hour later, after that initial rush, Sophia and I finally had some time to relax. Sophia made another batch of coleslaw, while I hung my arms out the service window and stared out at the booths and tents. The faire really was something to see, and I found myself smiling as I watched the people ambling around in their colorful costumes.

  At least, I was smiling until I spotted the giants.

  They were still roaming around the park, looking tall, strong, and intimidating in their black leather. But what truly caught my attention was the fact that the giants had their hands on the silver swords hooked to their belts, as though they were old-fashioned executioners about to whip out their blades and strike down anyone who displeased them.

  Oh, I knew that the giants were probably just doing their jobs as members of the security staff. Or maybe they were playing their parts to the fullest and were determined not to break their gruff, dangerous characters during the faire.

  Or maybe, just maybe, they were up to something.

  Stop it, Gin! I mentally chided myself. Stop it! Stop looking for trouble around every corner!

  Finn often said that I was totally paranoid, and he was absolutely right in his assessment. Even here, at a fun, innocent faire, I couldn’t fully relax. Because this was Ashland, and someone was always up to something shady here. Most of the time, it was me. Maybe that was why I was always so worried—because I knew all the bad, deadly things that I’d gotten away with as the Spider when no one was looking.

  “Something wrong?” Sophia rasped, now squeezing some limes and pouring their juice in a pitcher.

  “Nope,” I said in a breezy tone. “Just people-watching.”

  She eyed me a moment, clearly not believing me, but she went back to her limes.

  I might not have shared my worries about the giants with Sophia, but I couldn’t stop myself from tracking the men as they moved from one tent, booth, and area to the next. They didn’t do anything overtly suspicious, but they didn’t make an effort to participate in the faire activities either, and they didn’t play to the crowd or pose for pictures lik
e the other costumed characters were doing. It was almost like they were waiting for something to happen before they revealed their true intentions.

  But what trouble could they possibly cause at a ren faire? Steal the more expensive swords and jewelry? Crack some skulls and make off with people’s wallets and phones? Swipe the cash from the food trucks? Each new possibility that popped into my mind only increased my worry.

  A few of the giants wandered by the Pork Pit truck, and one of them stopped and peered up at me. He was taller than the other giants and quite handsome, with golden hair, tan skin, and pale blue eyes.

  I smiled at him, trying to be friendly and not paranoid, but he gave me a flat stare and moved on.

  That giant and two others rounded the side of the blacksmith forge and disappeared. They might have been out of sight, but they were definitely not out of my mind—

  A light trill of laughter caught my ear, interrupting my thoughts.

  Pirate Queen Celeste’s royal rounds had finally taken her over to the blacksmith forge, and she was standing next to Owen, who was showing her a dagger he’d made. Owen also showed the blade to the other people gathered around and answered a few questions. Once he was finished, everyone in the crowd clapped in appreciation, then moved on to check out the rest of the faire.

  Everyone except Celeste.

  The lords and ladies in her court drifted away to browse through the soaps, perfumes, and more in some nearby booths. But not Celeste. She sidled closer to Owen and smiled, clearly interested in all the wares he had to offer. Seemed I wasn’t the only one who was into humble blacksmiths.

  She said something, but Owen immediately shook his head and stepped away, turning down her proposal. Celeste smiled again and shrugged, as if to say there were no hard feelings.

  Owen nodded, then moved away. Celeste stared at him a moment longer, her red lips puckered in thought, then headed back into the crowd. The lords and ladies left their browsing behind and followed her, playing their parts again. A couple of the giants trailed after them as well, their hands still on their swords.

  Owen saw me watching them and jogged across the grass to me.

  “What was that about?” I asked.

  “Oh, Her Majesty Celeste was wondering if I could make a custom set of swords for her, but I told her that I just craft weapons for myself these days. And for my favorite Spider, of course.” He winked at me.

  I smiled back at him. Owen always knew just what to say to make me feel better. Still, something about Celeste and the giants made me uneasy.

  “It’s almost time for the noon show, if my pirate queen assassin will let this humble blacksmith escort her to the stage.” Owen grinned and bowed low.

  My smile widened. “This pirate queen assassin would like that very much.”

  Sophia and I closed up the Pork Pit truck and hung out a sign saying that we would be back after the show. Then Owen offered us each an arm, and we strolled over to the main stage.

  Almost everyone in the park had gathered here for the show, including Finn and Bria. Finn was chomping down on a giant turkey leg, with grease already smeared all over his face, while Bria had a funnel cake topped with fresh blackberries and raspberries and generously dusted with powdered sugar. She was using a fork to daintily cut into and then eat her fried treat, just like a proper princess would.

  I waved at them, and they toasted me with their food.

  “Here we go,” Owen murmured, drawing my attention back to the stage.

  Darrell Kline strolled out to the middle of the pirate ship deck. As if on cue, the wind picked up just enough to flutter the black flag with its white skull-and-crossbones that topped the main mast.

  Darrell was still clutching his clipboard and wearing his green velvet Robin Hood costume. He smiled and waved, and everyone quieted down.

  “Thank you so much for stepping back in time with us today.” He beamed at the crowd. “On behalf of the Ashland Renaissance Players and all our volunteers, sponsors, and vendors, we’re so happy that you decided to get tangled up in Winter’s Web. Ha-ha-ha-ha.”

  No one really laughed at his joke, so Darrell cleared his throat and moved on. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, for your entertainment . . . the Pirate Queen Celeste and her Marvelous Marauders!”

  Darrell swept his hand out to the side, then hurried off the stage. The second he disappeared, Celeste strolled into view. She plucked her two silver swords out of their scabbards and went through a much longer, more detailed routine than what she’d done in the park earlier. The crowd started oohing and aahing, and Celeste grinned and spun her swords even faster.

  Maybe it was my imagination or some trick of the noon sun, but it almost seemed like the weapons were sparking and glowing in her hands, and I could have sworn that I felt a faint gust of real magic in the air. My eyes narrowed, but Celeste was spinning, whirling, and twirling her body and blades around so fast that I couldn’t quite tell what, if any, elemental power she might have.

  A cheery sea shanty started playing, and a plethora of pirates raced into view. In an instant, they had swarmed all over the stage, standing on the railing, hanging off the netting, and even scaling the main mast up to the crow’s nest at the very top. They rose and fell on ropes and pulleys and did somersaults and other tricks that had the kids squealing with delight.

  After that initial blast of action, the music died down, and Celeste and the pirates put on a brief play. The story revolved around the villainous Captain Walls trying to take Celeste’s ship, but it was really just an excuse for Celeste to show off her sword skills again by defeating the other pirate in one-on-one combat.

  Several characters also gave long-winded, flowery speeches about doing one’s duty, living by the pirate’s code, and dying with honor—usually right before they were forced to walk the plank to meet a grisly death at the teeth of the sharks supposedly swimming below. The two rival crews also clashed in a massive final battle, and they even set off the cannons, which belched out loud, thunderous booms and thick plumes of black smoke.

  All put together, it was a fun, lively, impressive show, and I smiled and clapped along to the jaunty music with everyone else.

  Thirty minutes later, the show ended, and Celeste and the pirates joined hands, walked to the front of the stage, and took a well-deserved bow. The performers smiled and took another bow, soaking up the enthusiastic applause.

  Several kids ran up to the bottom of the stage and held out faire flyers, and the performers, including Celeste, left the stage and came down to autograph the papers and pose for pictures.

  Darrell hurried back out to the middle of the stage, still clutching his clipboard. “Be sure to come back for our three o’clock show!” he yelled, although no one paid any attention to him as they drifted away from the stage and back over to the booths and tents.

  I turned to Sophia and Owen. “That was actually really cool.”

  “You sound surprised,” Owen said.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t know what to expect.”

  Sophia jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Back to work?”

  “Yeah, I’m right behind you.”

  She nodded and headed toward the concessions area.

  Owen held out his arm to me again. “Shall I escort my pirate queen assassin back to her own ship?”

  I laughed and threaded my arm through his. “I don’t think the food truck would float very well, but escort me, you may.”

  He grinned, laid his hand over mine, and gently squeezed my fingers. I curled my fingers into his and squeezed back—

  I spotted a flash of silver out of the corner of my eye, so I looked in that direction. Pirate Queen Celeste was twirling one of her swords around in her hand again.

  And she was watching me.

  Celeste kept spinning her sword around in a smooth, lazy motion as though it was a baton instead of a deadly weapon. She realized that I was watching her watch me and did an elaborate flourish with the blade before bowing low. The gesture
was more mocking than not. Then she straightened up, slid her sword back into its scabbard, and turned to sign a little girl’s flyer.

  Celeste didn’t look at me again, but I couldn’t help but feel like she was still aware of me, the same way that I was aware of her.

  “Gin? Is something wrong?” Owen asked.

  I focused on him. “Nope, nothing at all. Escort away.”

  He led me away from the stage. I didn’t look back, but I would have bet that Celeste was watching us again—and that her interest in me was far from casual.

  Chapter Four

  Owen escorted me back to the Pork Pit truck. He had to give another demonstration, but we made plans to meet up later to check out the rest of the faire.

  I kissed him on the cheek and watched to make sure that he got back to the blacksmith forge okay. Then I knocked on the door, and Sophia let me into the truck.

  Sophia and I hit another busy patch, and I spent the next hour dishing up barbecue, sweet tea, and oatmeal-cherry crumbles before the crowd finally died down again.

  “Are you okay here by yourself for a little while?” I asked. “Owen should be done with his demonstration by now, and he wanted to explore the faire.”

  Sophia grunted, which was her way of saying yes, and put another pot of baked beans on one of the burners to simmer. I pulled off my apron and hung it on a hook on the wall before opening the back door of the truck and stepping outside.

  I had started to head over to the blacksmith forge when a sharp jerk of movement caught my eye. I looked to my right.

  The blond giant I’d seen earlier was sitting at a nearby picnic table, along with two other men. Ostensibly, the three giants were taking a break from their security duties and eating lunch, given the drinks, containers, and crumpled napkins clustered around them. But all three men were trying very hard not to stare at me, and they all had their hands on their swords, even though the blades were lying out flat on the table.