Well Played
end of each Faire season.So I scoffed at him, because a pirate and a tavern wench were roughly the same in the hierarchy of things, and out here he wasn’t my boss. Not while we were in character. “Nothing wrong with a bit of shopping, Captain. Surely you wouldn’t deprive your ladylove of a little indulgence.”
“Oh, I don’t need anything.” Emily’s hand went to the pendant she wore around her own neck—a deep blue crystal hanging from a silver chain. Simon had gotten it for her from one of the other vendors earlier this summer. “Why would I, when I have this?” Her eyes practically glowed when she looked at him, and I could tell she wasn’t just talking about the necklace.
Simon raised an eyebrow, his stern expression melting away as though he had trouble maintaining it in front of Emily. “Quite right.” He bent to brush a kiss across her mouth.
I coughed and glanced over at the vendor, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly in my direction. We probably had matching expressions. “Get thee a room,” I muttered, and the vendor snorted in amusement. I fished in my belt pouch for the cash I carried to pay her for the dragonfly necklace. I didn’t have anyone buying me gifts; I had to get my own. But I didn’t mind. That way I was guaranteed to end up with something I liked.
Simon turned his attention back to me, and his brows drew together again. “Are you sure about that necklace, Stacey?” His voice was pitched low since he’d dropped the accent and his character. “It seems a little . . . elaborate for a tavern wench.”
A flash of anger rose like bile in the back of my throat, and I swallowed hard against it. He was right, of course; the necklace didn’t match my costume. Tavern wenches weren’t high-class characters; my pewter Celtic knot was as fancy as I dared. But I’d inhabited this same character for six years now, and it was starting to chafe. I was tired of plain. Tired of settling.
My fist closed around the pendant, the dragonfly’s wings digging into my palm. “Perhaps it’s time for a change, then, Captain.” I kept my voice light, almost teasing, so neither of them could see my irritation. This was a new revelation, and I wasn’t quite ready to share it.
“She has a point,” Emily said. “The taverns are mostly run by volunteers now, and you know I spent more time working on the Shakespeare skits with the kids than I did serving beer. Maybe the time for tavern wenches has come to an end, and Stacey and I can come up with different characters next summer.”
“Perhaps.” Simon shifted from one foot to the other as his Faire accent crept back. He didn’t like change, especially when it came to Faire. But Emily looped her arm through his, bringing his focus to her again, and the smile returned to his face. “Perhaps,” he said again. Fully back in character, his voice was pure pirate now, and he bussed Emily’s temple. “For now though, I’m due on the chess field. Would you lasses care to join me?”
“The last human combat chess match of the year? I wouldn’t miss it.” Emily’s devotion was adorable, especially since the chess match was as choreographed as the joust we’d just watched. Twice a day, Captain Blackthorne fought Marcus MacGregor, played by our friend Mitch—a giant of a man wearing little more than a kilt and knee-high boots and carrying a massive sword. And twice a day, Captain Blackthorne lost said fight. But Emily still cheered him on, every time. She was his biggest fan.
I wasn’t in the mood to watch the chess. I’d seen it. Many, many times. “I’ll walk around a bit more, if you’ll forgive me.” I was too restless. The last thing I wanted to do was stand still and watch a show I’d seen so often I could probably perform it myself.
Emily peered at me with shrewd eyes. “Everything all right, love?”
“Yes, yes.” I waved her off. “I’d simply like to take in the scenery a little while longer.”
“Of course.” She squeezed my arm in goodbye as Simon doffed his hat and gave me a friendly bow. “Meet you at pub sing, then.”
I had to laugh at that. Emily never made it up front for the farewell show of the day. But hope sprang eternal.
Alone now, I stowed my old necklace in my belt pouch, tied the green silk cord around my neck, and set off down the lane again, my long skirts kicking up dust—it had been a dry summer, and Faire lanes were made up mostly of dirt paths that cut through the woods. I took the long way around the perimeter of the site where we held Faire every year.
It was midafternoon and the sun was still high in the sky, but for me the sun was setting on the summer. There was something magical about the last day of Faire. Months of rehearsal and weeks of performance had come to an end, and it all culminated in this day. I always thought the sun coming through the trees looked a little brighter, since it was the last day I’d see it like that for another year. I wanted to catch it with my hands and hang on to it.
Many of the shows had finished, but I passed a children’s magic act that was about halfway through its set, so I stopped to listen to the magician’s patter for a few moments. The ax-throwing booth was still going strong, and I gave that a wide berth. What were we thinking, letting people who had no idea what they were doing fork over a few bucks to try and hit a target with a deadly weapon? The attendant didn’t look too concerned, though, and he waved at me as I walked by. Multicolored banners hung from the trees, glowing in the sunlight as they blew gently in the breeze. A couple kids