Her Enemy Protector Bear by Cynthia Wilde

Chapter 4

Saturdays were always the busiest days at Ravenswood Realm for Nick. Not only did he have to perform for his packed shows, but he was also constantly running around in between them, usually putting out fires, sometimes literally. He loved every minute of it though. The faire was his home, where he could be amongst his kind. Their mission was a noble one so he never lacked for a sense of purpose. Still, it could be a lot. For this reason, he often thanked his lucky stars every day for his very competent booth manager, Cassie. Without her managing his store he knew he would be lost indeed. She never complained and he hardly ever even saw her except for when he needed to collect the money at the end of the day. In other words, she kept things running very smoothly. He made sure to pay her handsomely for her efforts too. She was worth every penny.

Today was no different, except for one thing, everyone was talking about the new lady in Merchant Circle. Well, it wasn’t so much about her as it was about the fact that she was the latest unlucky soul to get the “cursed” booth on the corner.

Nick didn't put any stock in such rumors though. He'd heard the stories about that particular booth and the series of misfortunes that happened to every vendor that ever rented there. Not surprisingly, magical folk were very prone to belief in all sorts of foolishness. He had even gotten Samantha to work with Aurora and some witches to do a full investigation. But even the best of their witches couldn't find a curse, or any ill wishes attached to the little building. Still, it couldn’t be denied that the fair just couldn’t hold a tenant for that particular spot. Over the last five months, three different vendors left in the middle of a faire day, and two left in the middle of the night. None gave any notice of why they left, and no one knew of their current whereabouts. So of course, a new tenant spawned a fair amount of gossip, and probably even a few friendly wagers.

It was definitely odd, but Nick believed in facts. He had been around magical folk enough to know that generally speaking their were no coincidences, but he also could see this was more rumor than any real substance. A few tenants had left, but that had more to do with their lack of business saavy than any curse.

Lucky for them most renfaire merchants would give their left arm for a chance to vend at a yearlong festival like this one. It was challenging to find an opening and even harder to be accepted. One had to be the best of the best to vend here or, lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time.

As he got close to his shop a few vendors came up to him. Nick sighed, listening to their complaints.

"That lady is too aggressive in the lane," said one of the merchants who sold soap and lotions across from Witches Stitches. "She's going right up to people and pulling them over to her spot. She’s flat-out taking people who should be going to my booth."

"Well, perhaps, you should get a bit more aggressive yourself," said Nick, slightly chiding the woman. "She's well within her right to tout her wares to the patrons and guests. I mean, that is part of the allure of the faire, is it not? I think the term ‘hawker’ might even be from the renaissance times when that was the only way to sell your goods." He didn’t actually know if that was true, but it sounded good. The merchant harrumphed and walked away, obviously not satisfied with his answer. God, they need a babysitter, not a booth coordinator.

When Nick walked into the candle shop, they, too, had a complaint, though it was a different one. "Her place is lit up like a Christmas tree," said the owner of the shop. "It doesn't look authentic."

Nick peered over at the new shop. Indeed, it was lit up in many different colors, but each noticeable light was housed in a lantern that looked renaissance-y enough to pass muster, in his book.

"That shop gets dark during the day," said Nick. "She obviously cares enough to make it light enough for guests to shop with her. If you want to add more light to your booth, you are welcome to do so as well."

"But I'm a candle shop," said the disgruntled man. "I can't light every candle in this place. My booth would burn down."

Nick took a deep breath. Most of the shopkeepers in the circle had been there for many years, and they sort of had a thing for “authenticity.”

They could have formed a formidable “renfaire police”, he mused. "Elric," said Nick, addressing the shopkeeper by name. "It's okay to have some added light that isn't from candles if you need, okay? We are playing in the fifteenth century, but you are welcome to have a few twenty-first-century luxuries, within reason."

"I just think it's wrong," the man said, crossing his arms over his chest. "The booths in this circle are the most period-appropriate in the whole festival. Then that woman comes in here with her artificial lights and her loud voice. She is ruining the neighborhood." Was this guy serious?

Nick glanced over again and genuinely thought that the booth had never looked better. Her name was Zoe Miller according to her paperwork, and it was obvious that she had put a lot of work into it. In just a few short days, she'd breathed some new color and life into the old thing. He decided he should go over and meet her before he fielded any more complaints about her. From what he could tell at this point it was just a lot of jealousy and he had heard enough. Hopefully he could smooth it all over before it blew up into a bigger problem, but first he needed to form his own opinion.

But first he needed to attend to his own shop’s business As soon as he entered, his manager, Cassie, pulled him aside, herself a bit agitated.

"The lady across the lane has been complaining all day," Cassie said in a low voice, so as not to allow patrons to hear. "She's been telling anyone who will listen that she has been granted exclusive rights on hand-made renaissance garments at this festival. In fact, she's cost us a couple of sales already. That woman is telling people that her fabrics are better than ours are and that her clothing will last longer. On top of that her prices undercut us by a fair bit. And they didn’t start off that way. I saw her peering over at our prices before she dropped hers. She’s pulling a lot of business away from us."

"How do you know all of this?" asked Nick, though he already knew the answer. "I sent Ellen over to spy on her, of course," Cassie lowered her voice further. "The woman really has some balls to come in here and start stealing customers and trash-talking, on her very first day."

"I will talk to her then," said Nick. If what he was being told were true, he would definitely be having words with this Zoe, to say the least. He was open to constructive criticism at any time. He had worked hard to build his store, which was no easy task with his other duties as a shifter, not to mention coordinating the other vendors. There was generally a sense of community amongst the vendors. They all rose together was sort of the unspoken idea. He objected more to the way this woman seemed to be acting than to her actual deeds, although she certainly sounded aggressive.

He straightened his bright orange and blue costume, and then adjusted his already jaunty hat; Nick made his way across the lane to Witches Stitches. He stopped in his tracks at the entrance. A young boy with dark hair and dark eyes greeted him as he walked in. The boy looked just like his Dillon. For a second, Nick stopped breathing as the young boy looked at him curiously. Then, he asked, "Are you well, my lord?" in a perfect English accent. Clearly this kid had practiced. It was pretty good actually.

Nick took a deep breath and smiled, "Yes, thank you, my lad. Is the mistress of this fine establishment available to speak to me?"

The boy eyed him and then smiled back. "Yes, she is with a customer, but she shall be right with you."

"Thank you," he said, as he looked around the shop. The clothing and hats were far more delicate than the ones he'd outsourced. Based on a very cursory look around, the woman had actually been right about the quality. Nick suddenly felt the slightest bit uncomfortable as he stood waiting in his shiny new costume. He straightened his back and tried to center himself. It wouldn’t due to give this woman the third degree. At that moment, his alarm for the next show went off in his pouch.

"Damn," he said softly. "I am afraid I must go with some speed. Please tell the mistress of this booth that the merchant coordinator would like to have a word with her later today." He did rather enjoy the sort of faux renaissance speak they employed.

The boy nodded and smiled. Man, just about Dillon’s age… He pushed the thought away. "Thank you," he said quickly and walked hurriedly to his stage, taking all the backstage shortcuts. He made it just in time for the show to begin.

* * *

An hour later,the show was finished, and the day at the faire was almost over. Nick threw on his street clothes ─ a pair of blue jeans and a plain blue t-shirt. He hoped he looked professional enough to talk with the Witches Stitches lady, but he just had to get out of the renfaire getup. Even he had his limits. He had an image of a rather uptight, opinionated lady in mind. What he had heard certainly painted that picture. He would set her straight and then send her packing if she gave him any attitude. At least that was what his mood seemed to dictate at the moment. Calm yourself Nick. Center.

Nick weaved his way through the faire, toward the “merchant's circle”, as that section of shops was known. Knowing precisely what he was going to say and how he would say it, he felt confident that the problem would be solved in a short conversation.

Just then he heard a familiar voice call to him across the lane. It was a booming unmistakable voice. Red stood across the way waving at him as he lumbered toward him. "The boss wants to see you," he said. "We are having an emergency meeting about this stray issue."

"Seriously?" said Nick, reluctantly changing course. "Emergency? I mean how can a bunch of stray cats constitute an emergency? I haven't even seen any of the strays lately."

"Exactly," said Red cryptically. "That's why it's an emergency."

Nick just looked at him strangely. What the hell is he talking about?

After a brisk walk through the backstage door and into the staff only area, Nick found himself in the courtyard of the big house owned by Rafe Parker, owner and CEO of Ravenswood Realm. He'd been to Rafe’s socially many times, but only a handful of times on business. He knew it was something serious indeed if Rafe was getting involved. What it could possibly be still escaped him though.

As they entered the main dining room, Rafe was seated with his right-hand man, Alec Bevin, also known as Sir Bevon the Brave, Aurora, the head fairy, and Samantha, Nick's assistant and sometime “hawker” or seller, in renfaire speak. All of them, along with Red and himself, were part of an emergency response team that Rafe called on when he saw fit. This had only happened a few times recently, and always when there was something nasty stirring from the Void. I hope that is not the case today. Nick looked around the room. He was the newest member of the group and didn't have as much experience as everyone else, but noticed that Chell, the team’s witch, was not present.

"Glad you could join us, Nick," said Rafe, standing and shaking his hand. "I realize you have a lot to do, as does the rest of the group, but something has come up that needs our attention. Please sit down." Everyone made themselves comfortable at the large table. Samantha slouched into her chair. He knew she had been overworked between dealing with the vendors and the myriad of other tasks Rafe and Alec seemed to always be finding for her. Aurora sat primly upright, Red sat on the floor on a pillow ─ no chairs were big enough for him ─ and Alec just looked tired; his wife, Aubrey, just had their first child, and it was apparent Sir Bevon needed sleep, a lot of sleep.

Rafe looked out at all their attentive faces. “First, I should say that I am not sure what the nature of this emergency is, but we can never rule out that there may be some sort of demon or other vile creature involved. As you know the creatures of the Void have been getting a bit more…” he paused, “creative over the last few years in their attempts to cross into our world. Obviously our prime mission is to be sure that doesn’t happen. Again, we don’t yet have any evidence that what I am about to tell you has anything to do with the Void, but at the same time we cannot rule it out. So pay close attention. Understood?”

They all nodded their assent and some grunted or added words affirming their commitment to the faire and it’s true purpose. "Now, I called you all here because, as you may have noticed, Chell is missing," he said, his hand gesturing to where she usually sat during such meetings. "She's actually been gone since Monday, and no one knows what's happened to her. As you all know, she has a gift for shifting into different animals. I have reason to believe that she shifted into a cat; at least, that was what she was the last time I saw her. When in cat form, she’s black and white. Now we don’t know for sure that she was or is shifted, but I want you to be aware of all possibilities. If she was shifted, perhaps she is on one of the longer journeys she likes to take outside the grounds. I need all of you to first check the grounds, then the campground, and really, anywhere you can imagine, that a cat could end up."

There was murmuring at the table as everyone commiserated, all agreeing that no one had seen Chell all week. Nick thought hard about what was happening. He'd been so busy that he didn't notice any strays, much less Chell running around like a cat, but he was instantly struck by an idea.

"I'll go to the animal shelter in town on Tuesday, seeing as how we have a three-day weekend with Monday being a holiday," he offered. “And even if she’s not there I can give them a description.” Everyone nodded their approval. " Does anyone have a picture of her as her familiar? In her cat form, I mean?"

"I am sure I could draw something up," said Samantha. "I mean black and white, that’s a start at least. I'll print up some flyers. Just let me know what time you're going on Tuesday. I'll make a couple for you to post."

"Good start," said Rafe. "So, I need everyone to keep your eyes out for her and any other strays you might encounter. As you know we have had the creatures of the Void have been very active the last few years, and each time it has started with relatively innocuous anomalies like this. So everyone be on guard.” Again, there was a collective pause in the groups breathing as they all considered the dark forces beyond the forest behind the faire. Although there were many walls and many spells between them and the Void, they all knew constant vigilance was still called for.

"It's nothing to worry about yet," said Aurora, chiming in. She was the one in charge of the day-to-day monitoring of the Void. She was constantly tinkering with and adjusting the spells in place to keep in closed. "We need to be diligent; that's all. If you see something strange or suspicious, report it immediately to Red or me."

"I can help, too, if you can't find them," said Alec wearily. "But please use me as a last resort, I'm exhausted."

Despite themselves, everyone chuckled. They knew how much he had on his plate since he'd married the beautiful and fiery fairy, Aubrey. She certainly kept him on his toes.

"You have your hands full at the moment," cut in Rafe, with a small smile. “We can handle for now, but if things get more serious I may have to use my executive privilege and draft you!”

"I guess that's all for now," said Rafe. "Keep me posted on any further developments. With any luck, Chell will show up soon with a great story. It better be a great story! But ‘til then we keep looking. Go home and get some rest, everyone. Let's meet again on Monday night if we don't find her. As you know, the show must go on."

Nick got up quickly from his seat. Nodding to everyone, he made it out of the house before anyone could pull him into conversation. The meeting had been relatively short, and he was hoping to make it to the new vendor's booth before she packed up and left for the night. He hustled over there. As soon as he stepped into the ‘circle’ though, he noticed the lights were off in her booth. She'd already left. "Damn," he said quietly, looking around to see if maybe she was on the path, but everything was deserted, save for one green-eyed cat.

It sat there on the path, staring at Nick. He couldn't see for certain what color it was because of the dull light, but he could guess it was maybe orange or tan. Its glimmering eyes seemed intelligent, as if it would open its mouth and speak actual words to him. Chell? Nick moved toward the cat. It waited until he got just within arm's reach, then it bolted into the woods. Just a regular stray, Nick thought, watching the cat go. He tried to follow it, but before he knew it, the cat was gone.

He’d have to let Rafe know, even if it was just a regular stray. If all the strays are going to be acting like this, something was definitely up.