Twenty minutes later later, Millie was carrying the last of the cakes to Mother Bloom, as Chase hiked up her skirts and darted into the fringe of trees just south of the church. From there, it was a short hike to another part of the village entirely. It would have been even shorter if she'd taken the road, but you couldn't do that. Not without people seeing, and that risked the secret that she and her friends had worked so hard to preserve.

The old people had the church steps to sit on and talk about how horrible young people were, but that wouldn't work the other direction. Couldn't talk about how terrible adults were in public, or you'd get trouble. Horribly unfair situation, but there was nothing to be done about it.

No, the ideal conspiring spot was down in the grange on the edge of town. The grange was a big barn, that only got used for special occasions. Special occasions like the harvest festival that was on for tomorrow. The ranchers and farmers moved their stock in for the judging and competitions, and left it empty the rest of the year.

Which had caused a lot of fuss among the village youths a few nights back, as the kids had to scramble to clean up the place, hide the empty wine bottles and the pipes full of tobacco and more forbidden herbs.

They thought they'd done a pretty good job of it, but they hadn't. And the village grownups who were responsible for stocking the grange and preparing it for the festival would smile, and remember how they'd used it as their hideout when they were younger. And they cleaned up the contraband that the kids missed and didn't say a word. The years would pass and the kids would be grownups, and then it would be their turn to clean up the grange and smile at the memories whenever they found another half-drunk bottle of Barleyman's finest, or a somewhat suspiciously stained blanket, or an ancient book full of naughty woodcuts.

The adults were content to smile, and say nothing, which was why the teenagers of the village, Chase included, thought that they were getting away with having a secret hideout in plain sight.

The downstairs of the big barn was busy even at this late hour of the morning, the lowing of cattle and whickering of ponies mixing with the calls of the farmers as they doled out food, combed manes and hides, and tended the assorted livestock.

The upstairs, however, was free. And there, in the hayloft, Chase and her cronies huddled and tried to keep quiet as they spoke. Sometimes they even succeeded.

The first order of business was to find a certain missing toy...

“And you're sure it wasn't yours?” Chase asked, squinting at Petunia Gooli.

The shorter girl nodded, sending her brown pigtails bouncing. Beside her, her brother folded his arms, and squinted at Chase with suspicion. “We don't have a stupid fox toy, and we didn't take it from your house last night.”

“I didn't say you'd taken it,” Chase held up her hands. “I was asking if you'd seen it. It's not where it was, and I know I put it on that shelf.”

“I'm still not sure Da didn't take it,” Greta offered, from where she was sitting with her tight circle of friends. She and the other older girls had claimed the hay bales to the right. The boys were on the left, though there were a smattering of siblings who hadn't chosen a side, and sat in little family groups.

The older the youths got, the more likely they ended up on one side or the other. Chase knew why. In a few years, she'd probably be doing it herself... no. No, she had plans. She wouldn't be here in a few years. She'd dodge that arrow before it hit.

“I don't think Dad came back home,” Chase said. “Mom didn't have any new dishes in the sink this morning. You know she wouldn't have let him leave again without first breakfast.”

“Maybe she... cleaned them? Before we woke?” Greta asked uncertainly.

“Yeah, right.” Chase showed her clean white hands. “You know she doesn't miss a chance for me to do them. I did them this morning and the only ones that weren't from first breakfast were from last night. Nothing new. Something's going on.”

“Yeah,” Burt Crabapple said, and instantly most of the young women looked to him. He cleared his throat, looking away. “My Mom was out too.”

“And Benjy,” Loosy Lapin added in, staring at Burt. “He's gone off with them, wherever they are.”

“You think they're together?” Greta wondered.

Of course they are! Chase thought, but kept it to herself. “So we've got mysterious windstorms, voices, fox puppets that appear out of nowhere and disappear just as easily, and a conspiracy of people wandering out without saying why. What's happening here?”

“Maybe the fox puppet was from the circus folk?” Jander Hoodwinkle said.

Chase's ear quivered. “Circus folk?”

“My grampa said that circus folk were coming here for the festival,” Jander said, looking around, shrinking a bit now that all eyes were on him. “He saw one after the storm! Saw a stranger! The man said he had a circus and wanted to bring it around to town. But Jilly went out to tell them they couldn't come here after all.”

That was surprising. “Why?” Chase asked, leaning forward.

“I don't know.”

“We could have had a circus here?” Chase said, ear twitching harder. “And they just decided no?”

“I bet that's what it is though,” Greta said. “For the fox, I mean. The river's up by the road, and they could have dropped like a box of puppets or something and it could have come downstream.”

“Then why did it disappear?” Chase shook her head. “I know where I put it. Mom said she didn't touch it. You denied it too, and Dad's out, so...”

“We don't know if it's even a thing,” Burt said, shrugging. “A puppet's no big deal, why worry about it? But the adults are acting funny. That's definitely a thing to worry about.”

Chase debated mentioning the dwarven woman, but dismissed it. She wouldn't have gotten any benefit from leaking this secret, and she needed to verify it first, anyway. Millie had seemed honest, but this was just a bit too outlandish to take at face value.

The informal council deliberated, talked things over, and came to a conclusion. They'd watch, ask questions, and meet back at the grange tonight after the festival.

So they peeled off from the group in ones and twos, climbing down the ladders at the corners of the loft and quietly slipping out into the village. And the farmhands working in the grange smiled to themselves and pretended not to see the youngsters.

Greta and Chase and Burt were three of the last ones out. The big blonde looked over to her younger sister, but Chase waved her on. Greta looked at Burt... and Loosy grabbed her arm, shooting a glare at Burt as she went. For a few seconds, Chase and Burt were left alone in the loft.

Just as planned. There was some business that Chase needed to wrap up.

“Burt. Half a minute,” Chase said.

He half-tensed up, wary. She shook her head, and took his arm. “People are starting to notice that you and Loosy are hitting problems.”

Burt closed his eyes, worry lines wrinkling his forehead. “Did you tell?”

“I had to tell some of it. But not why there are problems. And I won't.”

Burt slumped, and the tension rolled out of him. “Thank you.”

“You're not going to be able to hide it forever,” Chase said, looking up at his handsome face. A very handsome face, that only truly smiled when he looked at very handsome men.

“I don't have to. Just another year, then I'm my own man. And I'm free to leave.” Burt's ears twitched under his short-trimmed hair. “Got an uncle in Venivici. I can help him with his trade caravans. Folks are... different out there. People don't mind... well.”

“Well,” Chase squeezed his arm, then let go. “Just stall until you can't any longer. And don't break Greta's heart if it comes down to it. And if you need me to run interference, you know my fees are reasonable. Now come on, Loosy's going to get jealous if we stay up here much longer.”

Loosy did shoot a few suspicious glares at Chase, but Chase gave her quizzical looks right back. Loosy marched over to Burt, grabbed his arm, and yanked it around her waist.

Chase shrugged, and looked over to Greta. “Shall we?”

“Let's.” Greta led the way.

“You've got the list?” Chase asked her sister.

Greta smiled, and pulled out a wrinkled piece of much-abused parchment. Paper was dear in the village, so every scrap of it was full up of cramped writing. “We're in charge of the ribbons this year. Should be an easy task.”

“Ugh.” Chase wrinkled her nose. “So long as you're the one climbing up on the poles and tacking them in place.”

“Depends. What'll you give me?”

Chase glanced back over her shoulder, at Loosy's hand around Burt's waist, and the way the young man's shoulders tensed up under his shirt. “I think I could do you a secret about Loosy's first boyfriend.”

“What?” Greta's eyes went wide. “Who!”

“Are you going to be the one climbing the poles?” Chase grinned.

“...yes, you slavedriver.”

“Tsk. Slaves don't get paid. This, though, is worth a pretty penny...”

“Meanie.”

“So you're not taking the bargain?”

“I never said that.”

“Alright, fine. Back home for tea?”

“Yeah. We'll need it.”

Halven average about seven meals a day. And these aren't small meals, either. These are meals that would make the average human go “whoa, slow down.” This practice gives them a reputation for gluttony and sloth among most of the other civilized species of Generica.

While it is true that halvens enjoy and celebrate food, the reputation is rather unfair. And sloth is an entirely unreasonable accusation. Most people who repeat that slur fail to take into account the sort of work required to prepare or purchase seven solid meals a day.

No, the truth of the halven appetite is that it is born from necessity. Alone among the civilized races, halven gain no endurance as they level up their species job. Endurance protects every creature's stamina, and reduces the amount used by strenuous activity. Without endurance, even the simplest task can cause exhaustion in short order.

Resting restores endurance but it is a very slow affair. Faster still are certain magical effects and job skills, but those are far too flashy and suspicious for the backwoods, conservative societies that halven are born to. Food, however, is neither flashy nor suspicious. Food is yummy, and for the halven, food is life. Without it they can't work, but the more they work the more they need food. It's a rather vicious but delicious cycle.

As a side note, halven also have some of the most sturdy and comfortable bathrooms around. The advent of the flush toilet was hailed as a godsend by the industrious people, who put aside their natural aversion to newfangled things and happily gave up the old, overfilled outhouses of yesteryear.

But none of this mattered to Chase and Greta right now. They were hungry and had a big task ahead, so they needed food. They'd eat some of it there, filling up their stamina pools, and then they'd take some for the road to nibble on whenever they got.

On the way, Chase filled Greta in about the mysterious dwarf, and Tollen's absence from the Coney hunt. Greta's eyes grew wider and wider, as Chase muttered the secret she'd won. “This is impossible,” Greta finally said.

“I know how it sounds, that's why I didn't mention it in there. We need to check it out. Do you think you can help me with that after the ribbons are done?”

Greta exhaled. “I had plans tonight.”

“It shouldn't take long. And it's a stranger. And a dwarf.”

“I could ask around—”

“No,” Chase shook her head. “Millie told me not to tell anyone else. We need to keep it to ourselves.”

Greta squinted down at her. “She told you not to tell anyone else, and here you are telling me about it?”

“I don't keep secrets from family. That'd just be wrong! Besides, it's too big for her. She'll leak it or someone else will find out shortly. That means it'd be a bad for me to trade it, all I'd do is get her angry with me for breaking a promise.”

“Which you just broke anyway.”

“No, I bent it, I didn't break it. That's a difference. My promise to be square with you so long as it didn't hurt anyone else takes priority over whatever promise I made her. That's the rules.”

“Which she didn't know when she told you that.”

“Pssh. Not my fault she didn't ask. All right, here we are. Let's eat fast, we've got a lot to do.”

“Fine, fine,” Greta reached out to open the door, but it swung wide a second before the young woman could touch it.

And Chase's blood ran cold, as a voice came from the normally-comfortable gloom of their house.

“Chase Berrymore, I demand to know the meaning of your lies!”

CHASE'S CHARACTER SHEET

Spoiler: Spoiler

Name: Chase Berrymore

Age: 15 Years

Jobs:

Halven level 8, Cook level 4

Attributes / Pools / Defenses

Strength: 40 Constitution: 28 / Hit Points: 68 / Armor: 0

Intelligence: 45 Wisdom: 53 / Sanity: 98 / Mental Fortitude: 25

Dexterity: 59 Agility: 51 / Stamina: 110 / Endurance: 0

Charisma: 69 Willpower: 35 / Moxie: 104 / Cool: 25

Perception: 43 Luck: 70 Fortune: 113 Fate: 16

Generic Skills

Brawling – Level 7

Climb – Level 15

Dagger – Level 2

Dodge – Level 9

Fishing – Level 14

Ride – Level 10

Stealth – Level 11

Swim – Level 6

Throwing – Level 18

Halven Skills

Fate's Friend – Level N/A

Small in a Good Way – Level N/A

Cook Skills

Cooking - Level 14

Freshen - Level 10

Unlocked Jobs

Archer, Farmer, Grifter, Herbalist, Teacher