Forest and Syrus found a rhythm that suited both of them over the next two days. They managed to be continuously polite when they interacted but mostly stayed out of each other’s way. Forest had shown Syrus how to work her stereo and had hardly seen him since. Syrus developed an instant and passionate love affair with American music. Forest didn’t mind the base thumping through the house so long as Syrus didn’t repeat the same song too many times in a row. He was quite prone to do that with songs he really loved, and more than once Forest had to threaten him with silver burns if he played Steal My Sunshine one more time.
Forest still had pangs of annoyance over his presence, but for the most part, she liked having him there. His cheerfulness was infectious. When she had given him a few audio books to listen to, he was so excited, you would have thought she’d handed him the moon. They made a routine of making S’mores every night, and they found they could talk for long periods of time without offending each other, so long as the topics stuck to battle tactics, weapons, and Earth.
Forest got up before dawn on the fourth day of their stay at her cottage and went out in her garden. She needed to focus, and there was nothing better than the cool, dewy morning air to sharpen her mind. She sat by her bubbling fountain, compiling a list of things she needed to do before they set out on their journey. Kindel hadn’t told her exactly how long she had before they had to go, and she had been procrastinating over the last few days. She kept her cell on her at all times, in case the eminent email arrived.
Not having any word about what was happening in the impending war was starting to grate on her. She should go to the Fair and see what gossip she could catch. Tek always had the news, and he would need to be restocked anyhow. He always complained when Forest took too long in bringing him stuff from Earth. He said her competitors were overpriced and never had decent merchandise. So she had two major things on her plate for the day: go see Tek, and finally persuade Syrus to let her cut his hair.
Syrus was up and poking around the kitchen when she came back inside. His head was stuck in the pantry and he muttered curses as his hands shifted things around.
“Syrus?
He started guiltily, and he knocked a box of cheerios to the floor, spilling them all over the kitchen. He huffed in exasperation and threw his hands in the air.
Forest chuckled. “What are you looking for? I told you I put the Lucky Charms right in the front.”
“I don’t want Lucky Charms, I want Count Chocula,” he said petulantly.
“Oh. Well, I’m sure your great uncle Dracula would be so proud,” she said as she came forward to dig the cereal out for him. “You’d better be careful how much you eat of that stuff. It’ll rot your fangs.”
He ignored her warning and plunged his hand into the cereal box with gusto, preferring to eat it dry. He couldn’t stand milk.
“So, what are we doing today?” he asked.
“I have business to attend to in town. We need to get ready to leave. Kindel could send word any time now. When I get back, you should let me cut your hair.”
Syrus grimaced and made a little whining noise in his throat.
Forest ground her teeth together. “You have to get over this.”
Syrus acted as if he hadn’t heard her, stuffing his mouth with another handful of cereal, and turning his back to her. Forest clenched her fists, wishing she had something to throw at the back his head. She contemplated just grabbing a pair of scissors and charging at him.
“Okay. Go ahead and sulk. I have work to do.”
Forest grabbed a big tote bag from the closet and went down to the basement, boiling with annoyance. She began to fill the bag with the stuff she knew Tek would want the most. The tote was heavy once it was full and her back would be aching by the time she reached the Fair. Right as she was about to leave she found Syrus barricading the front door with his arms crossed over his chest.
“What?” she half yelled.
“I’ve decided that I’m not going to let you cut my hair, not ever.”
Forest’s mouth dropped open. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him right now!
“There are other things we can do to disguise me. I can wear my hair in another fashion, but I cannot simply let you cut it. It’s too important to me. I just can’t.”
Forest’s face and voice were frozen impassive. “Are you finished?” she asked in deadly politeness.
He didn’t reply.
“I can’t wait till we’re done with this and you are out of my life!”
Syrus flinched a little before composing his face in a casual sneer. “The feeling’s mutual, baby.”
He moved away from the door, and Forest exited through it. She walked through her yard, out onto the road. She was so incensed that she couldn’t even feel it, she just walked at a brisk pace like a robot.
Forest was half way to town before she could begin to come up with ways to deal with Syrus. She wasn’t even capable of thinking his name before that. She would deal with him. She just hadn’t yet figured out how. The problem was that he was the prince. Even though they both didn’t want anyone to know that, he did have the authority to tell her what was what, even if he was dead wrong. Even if he was a colossal moron!
By the time she reached the fair, the heavy tote had worn a ridge in her shoulder. A rambunctious open market, the fair resembled a massive gypsy camp. Distained and shunned by those who thought it low class and thoroughly enjoyed by everyone else. The Fair busted at the seams with the dregs of society, with plenty of illegal activity to go around. No one seemed to care enough what happened in the Fair to police it. The teenage children of the high and mighty often snuck away from their homes to revel in the base pleasures of the fair.
She walked the heavily trodden path through the brightly colored tents and open fire pits to the end of the row, where Tek’s patchwork tent stood, defiantly taller than anyone else’s. Forest kept her eyes on the ground so no one would recognize her. Tek had a small wooden sign hanging at the doorway of his tent that read, Human Relics. Forest passed through the flap to find him sitting slumped on a stool, his head lolling on his chest, snoring loudly. She took the opportunity to look at his stock. He was low.
She glanced at Tek and decided to see just how asleep he really was. She stuffed a few outdated celebrity gossip magazines into her cloak, along with three bottles of nail polish and turned to leave.
“Thief!” the shout came behind her
She ducked just in time as a dart went flying past her ear. Forest turned, laughing, and looked Tek straight in the eyes. “I knew you weren’t really asleep, Old Dog.”
“Oh, Forest!” he exclaimed, lowering the blowgun from his mouth. “It’s about time, Missy! Look at my shelves!”
“I have. Sorry.”
She hefted the tote bag onto the counter. His little brown eyes gleamed as he opened it greedily. Tek looked as downtrodden as his shelves. Was he depressed? He always attempted to keep his rough werewolf appearance to a minimum. Yet now, his clothes were dirty with the exception of his black Stetson and his green snakeskin boots.
“So, Tek…” Forest began casually as he continued to pull out and stack things on the counter. “I’ve only just come back to Regia. What’s been going on?”
“Hmm?...Oh this is good.” He said pulling out a stack of romance novels. “I’ll make a fortune on these… Oh! Fantastic Forest!” he exclaimed finding a bunch of temporary tattoos.
“Tek?”
“What?”
“What’s the gossip?”
He shot her a piercing look for a second. “What have you heard?” he demanded aggressively. “It’s not true, I swear! Me and Martia are just friends. That’s all. Just friends.”
Forest blinked at him for a second before bursting out with laughter. “Really, Tek. I’ve known about you and Martia for a long time. Everyone at fair knows about you two. What are you all uptight about? Did you ask her to mate or something?”
“I did not!” Tek blushed brilliantly. “She a
sked me,” he mumbled.
"You're a lucky wolf. She's lovely."
Tek's cheek pulled up into a small smile. "She is, isn't she?"
“Congratulations.”
“Oh shut up. I hate how everyone acts like it’s so great.” He dug out the last pair of flip-flops from the tote and threw them angrily down on the ground. “It’s not my fault I fell for an ogre. I only agreed because I’m too old to breed.”
Forest chuckled. “Yes, you two would have interesting offspring. Just think what the Were-soldiers would do to you for that offense.”
Tek shuddered at the thought. “Yeah, like I need that kind of trouble. I still have an outstanding warrant on my head.”
Forest’s face grew serious. “I’m happy for you and Martia. But I wouldn’t be if you planned on having children. It’s too hard to be a Halfling. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”
Tek nodded gravely. “So what do I owe you?”
“Forget it. Think of it as a mating present. Just tell me the Regian gossip outside of your own dealings.”
“Oh, well. I heard that Philippe has been organizing for war, but that he’s been acting odd. Odder than usual, that is. Like maybe he’s got some secret weapon. The Lair issued a decree for all wolves to engage in social disobedience. Nothing has really happen yet. Everyone was expecting King Zeren to make a swift and nasty military response, but he’s done nothing. He has made no statements or appearances, and neither has the queen. It’s like he’s waiting for something. No idea what. Everyone I know is feeling the tension, but it’s all quiet. We’re all just spectators, waiting for the show to start.”
“I see. Anything else?” Forest asked.
“Oh! You should have been around a few days ago! The Elves came out and publicly gave their support to the Vampires.”
“What?”
“Oh yes. Quite the stir it’s causing. Apparently, it all happened because the Elves and the Shifters in power got into a huge argument. Something about dishonorable battle tactics on the Shifters side.”
“What battle tactics?”
“No idea.” Tek shrugged. He scratched his bearded chin for a moment.
“So what do you think?” Forest asked.
“Well, you know I’m a traitor to the core. I think Zeren is a good king. He’s lost his edge since Syrus died, but then who wouldn’t? I think Philippe hired the hit on Syrus. It’s a shame really. This will probably be the war that will shift the balance of power. Not looking forward to it myself. I like Regia the way it is, but Philippe will try to turn it into France. I don’t want to change my name to Pierre or Jean Claude.”
“Or Peppy La Pue.” Forest laughed, but she was feeling tense. The news he had given her wasn’t good.
“I’ve also had word that there is a storyteller traveling through. I hope they will be persuaded to spend a while at our humble little fair.”
Even though this news had nothing to do with Forest’s purpose, she was interested nonetheless. “Really? I haven’t listened to a storyteller since I was a child. I didn’t even know there were any left.”
“Yeah. Storytellers have been thin through this region for the last hundred years. Why don’t you come into the back and have a drink?” Tek invited.
Forest chewed her lip for a second. “Only one,” she said sternly.