Cameron Piper had tried to dissuade his band-mates from the idea of performing at the third World Fair, but he'd been outvoted. It had been almost two years, now, since the Band had formed, and while the four musicians had become fairly good friends in that time, there was still much that they withheld from one another. Tino was the one who said the least about his past, and yet Cameron suspected that, of all of them, he had the least to hide. Cameron assumed that he himself was the most secretive, although it was a close call between him and Alecstar. Ginger seemed to be the most open about her past, and yet... there were certain things she didn't want to discuss, very often. As for Cameron, he'd told the other three fairly soon after they'd first met that he was a Sorreter, so it was hardly surprising that they were confused by his reluctance to return to his home village. Or rather, Tino and Ginger seemed confused by it. Star- as usual- didn't say anything about it, but Cameron got the impression he may have guessed the reason for his protests. Even so, Star voted with the others to go to the fair. So, Cameron had little choice but to go along. However, shortly before they arrived at Sorret, he reminded them that they'd be playing for a far larger audience than they ever had before, and after their performance they could very well be mobbed by fans. To prevent that, he offered to cast glamour spells over all of them after the performance, which would alter their appearances for a few hours. That way, they'd be better able to wander freely and enjoy all the other entertainment the fair had to offer. They agreed, but he said he was a bit rusty, as he hadn't cast that particular spell in quite awhile, so he practiced by casting a glamour on himself just before they entered the village.
The concert went well, and the crowd loved it. When they were finished, they took a brief break backstage, during which Cameron cast the glamours on the others, and they changed their clothes. When he, Ginger, Star, and Tino all exited the bandshell, they found plenty of fans waiting for them by the rear exit, just as Cameron had predicted, so his band-mates were all glad he'd had such foresight. They loaded their instruments and stage clothes into their wagon, then decided they'd each go their separate ways, to explore the fair individually, and meet back at the wagon later that evening.
As wary as he was to be in Sorret, Cameron had to admit he'd felt a certain amount of homesickness, in the five years since he'd been here last. He was eager to check out a few of his old haunts, though it was hard to find them, as the fair and the huge crowd it had brought from around the world rendered the village almost unrecognizable. And one of the places he missed most, Sorret Magic Academy, was not an option, even with a glamour concealing his identity. Meanwhile, the many attractions and kiosks eventually managed to relax him, and he began enjoying himself. The one incident that briefly troubled him was when he visited a fortune teller, who billed himself as "the Great Gordon," accenting the second syllable of "Gordon" in a way that Cameron assumed was an affectation. He didn't really care for this pronunciation, which sounded to him like "Gore dawn." It reminded him of mornings on the battlefield, which Cameron thought was hardly an appealing image for a name to evoke. Gordon used something he called a "crystal ball." (It looked to Cameron like a large scrying bubble, though it clearly involved no actual magic, so he supposed the fortune teller must not be a Sorreter.) After gazing into his crystal ball for a short time, the Great Gordon looked up at Cameron and said, "We all have prejudices we must strive to overcome." Cameron asked what he meant by that, but the fortune teller merely replied, "That is all I see. The Great Gordon has spoken!" After leaving the little tent, Cameron fretted about this fortune for a few centhours, but finally dismissed it as claptrap. After all, there's no such thing as real augury; at least, not since the Prophet Movement, five centuries ago. Surely this charlatan just came up with random, meaningless fortunes for his customers. Thus reassured, Cameron went back to enjoying his wanderings throughout the village.
It was about Third Four when Cameron got back to the wagon, by which time the others were already waiting for him. Their own glamours had faded away, but Cameron's was still going strong. Ginger greeted him cheerfully. "Hey, stranger. You can drop the façade, because I bought us all masks!" She donned one, herself, then handed another to Cameron.
"Cool. Where'd you get these?"
"Ran into Tom. He made them himself, and he's selling them out of his caravan. Speaking of which, he said that after the fair, he's planning on settling down somewhere permanently, and selling the caravan. And his striders."
"Trying to sell the lot to us, is he? Did you remind him we already have a wagon? One that doesn't need striders?"
Ginger grinned. "Don't worry, I did. And you can bet he got a few gruff words in about our preference for flying. Anyway, he also mentioned he might have a buyer lined up. When he's not selling masks, he's been trading lessons with another jack of all trades, some guy named Gordon Lightprophet. Tom's teaching him to make masks, and Gordon's teaching him prognostication. And apparently Gordon's own wagon has just about had it, so he's in the market for a new one."
"Funny, I met a guy named Gordon today. Or Gor-don, rather."
"Huh. Small world. Anyway, you like it?"
Cameron smiled, and put on the mask. "Yeah. Thanks." He looked around at the others, who were all now wearing the masks Ginger had given them, as well. "We certainly look a festive bunch, don't we?"
"Right?" said Ginger. "I was thinking for the other shows we've got lined up this month, we could wear these on stage. I'm sure the fans would dig it, and you wouldn't have to waste your chakra... or mana, whatever it's called. ...By the way, why hasn't your glamour worn off yet?"
Cameron sighed, and took off his mask. Glamour or no glamour, it was easy to see he was troubled. He was silent for several moments, trying to think what to say.
But before Cameron could speak, Alecstar removed his own mask. "You don't need to explain, if you don't want to. I'm sure we all have things we'd rather not talk about."
Ginger also removed her mask, and her expression turned remorseful. "Of course... I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry if-"
"It's okay," said Cameron. "In fact, I'd rather not talk about it, but I don't blame you for asking. I just... don't want to worry about running into old acquaintances who might dredge up painful memories. Let's leave it at that."
Ginger nodded.
Cameron then forced his own expression to brighten, hoping it didn't look too forced. "Anyway, not all my memories of Sorret are sad. In fact, I'd like to bring you all to one of my favorite places, this pub called Finnegan's. Actually, it's more of a nightclub, so Ginger and Tino, you guys would love it."
Tino, the only one still wearing his mask, exclaimed, "I'm in!" in a tone that clearly let the others hear the grin they couldn't see.
Ginger's own grin returned, but she said, "Ugh. I hope you're not planning on getting supper there, because I am already stuffed from all the fair food I've eaten today."
"No worries," said Cameron, "we could just have a nightcap before going back to the inn. Probably shouldn't wear these, though," and he held up his mask. "They're not particularly fond of tourists, at Finnegan's, and it doesn't get much tourist-ier than carnival masks."
"So," said Star, "should we walk, or has everyone had quite enough of that, for today?"
"It's not too far, but with these fair crowds, even in the evening, it'll seem a lot farther than it is. And you're right, I for one have had plenty of walking. Flying would probably be best."
So, Cameron piloted the wagon, and parked it outside a rather large house, alongside several other wagons and carriages.
Tino said, "The nightclub is in someone's house? Freaky."
"Actually, it's under the house."
"I'm not sure if that's more or less freaky. I'm hoping more."
"Depends on the night. But I'm guessing with all the freakiness going on throughout the village this month, the regular patrons will be looking for a more subdued atmosphere. I wouldn't be surprised if Fanny chooses not to book any entertainment at all, for the next few weeks."
Tino nodded. "I can dig it."
They all left their masks in the wagon. Cameron (still wearing his glamour) led them down a stairwell and to the nightclub's entrance. Ginger and Tino both expected a bouncer to be manning the door, and were mildly disappointed to find there wasn't one. Nor were they greeted by any attendants when they entered. Glancing around the room, the newcomers saw that there was a bar, a stage, a dance floor, scattered round tables, and booths along the walls. A number of tables were occupied, as were most of the seats at the bar. As Cameron had predicted, the stage and dance floor were vacant. There was some soft music in the air, with no visible source; obviously it wasn't live. The lights were low, though not quite as dim as Cameron was used to, from his past visits. He led them to a booth, and they seated themselves. Before long, a server arrived, and they all ordered drinks.
While they waited, Tino looked around the room again, then turned to Cameron. "Bit boring. You said Ginj and I would love it. Well, I'm not loving it."
"I meant you'd love it on one of the wilder nights. I also said it would likely be subdued, tonight. And you said you could dig it."
"You're right, I'm sorry." He sighed. "Still..."
"Don't mind him," said Ginger. "I'm actually relieved to get away from all the noise of the day. It'll give us all a chance to prepare ourselves for plunging back into the chaos of the fair, tomorrow."
"I'm glad of the respite from chaos, myself," said Star.
Before anyone else could speak, a quiet, humming vibration suddenly emanated from Cameron's pocket. He withdrew a t-mail bubble, said "Confirmed. Hold." And the humming stopped. "Excuse me," he said to his friends. "I'll be right back." He stood up and left the building, taking one more survey of the room as he did so.
There didn't appear to be anyone else in the parking lot, but protocol dictated that he cast a cylinder of invisibility about himself before answering this particular caller. Once the spell was cast, he said to the t-mail bubble, "Open."
"Hi, Cam, how are you?"
"Lorrie? I was expecting Drag."
"Well, he has an assignment for you, but he thought it would be better coming from me."
"Okay, but make it quick. I wasn't expecting to have to be invisible, and I'm low on chakra."
"Well, then, maybe you can call back when you have more. Or, instead of calling us, you could call your contact for the mission, and get the details from him."
"Who is it?"
"Yuki Des'Salucin."
"Ah. That explains why Drag delegated this call to you."
"Cam, we've been over this-"
"I know, I know. He's one of Drag's spies, like me. But that doesn't mean I have to like the idea of working with him."
"Not all elves-"
"I'm not talking about all elves, I'm talking about one of the elves that killed our friends and allies. As you well know."
"It was war, Cam. And he switched sides."
"I know! ...Look, isn't there anyone else who can do this? I'm nowhere near Pritt, and it's not like I can just abandon my band-mates. We've got a bunch of gigs lined up, all month long."
"Wait... this is the month of the World Fair. And this year it's- are you home, Cam?" There was an air of... something, in her voice. Cameron thought it sounded like a mix of jealousy and concern.
"If you want to call it that." His tone clearly implied that he didn't. "But you haven't answered my question."
"Sorry. Look, most of our agents are stationary, like Yuki. As you know. And all our other mobile agents are otherwise engaged, right now. I mean engaged in missions, not attending fairs. Besides, they're all less willing and able even than you are, to set aside their prejudice against elves."
That word, 'prejudice,' took him aback, suddenly reminding him of the fortune he'd been given earlier that day. He'd never consciously thought of his feelings about elves as prejudice, but now he wondered... could this Gordon person really have known-
"Cam? Are you there?"
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Uh, look, I'll call Des'Salucin later, okay? Take care, Sis. Close." The call terminated, and he took another look around the parking lot. He'd seen someone enter the club, a centour ago, but was once again alone. He deactivated the cylinder of invisibility, and a moment later he felt his glamour cease, as well. He cursed under his breath, then muttered "I oughta start carrying a mana battery wherever I go." He paused, considered going back to the wagon for his mask, but decided against it. It would be frowned upon, not to mention attracting unwanted attention. Besides, there was no one he knew in the club tonight. So he returned to his friends, looking like himself for the first time since early that morning.
"Long time no see," Ginger said with a grin, when she saw him.
Cameron flashed her a weak grin, then concentrated his full attention on his drink, which had arrived while he was outside. All four of them had ordered decaf coffee, each with a different type of liquor added. He set his cup down, and was trying to think of something to say to his friends, when a server suddenly appeared at the table. It wasn't the girl who'd taken their orders, but rather a teenaged boy.
The server set a plate of biscotti on the center of the table. "Sorry about that, folks. It's supposed to be complimentary, but Zoey's new, she hasn't learned all the- Hey, Cam, is that you?"
Cameron looked up in sudden alarm, though he hid his concern with practiced skill. He said nothing.
"It is you! What's it been... five years?"
"Are you addressing me? My name is Cameron, not Cam. I admit the similarity is striking, but I've never been called 'Cam.' Nor do I believe we've ever met."
"It's Drax! I studied under Jinno with you... until you disappeared, that is. I'm not surprised you don't recognize me, though. You were, like, fifteen at the time, I think, and I was eleven. The years have changed me more than they have you, naturally."
"So you're sixteen, now?" asked Ginger. "I wouldn't think that would be old enough to work in a place like this."
"There's no law against it, though I've heard similar reactions from plenty of people, and from spirits. I started working here about a year ago, to save up for university. I should graduate from the Academy soon, but there's no guarantee of finding work as a Sorreter. So it'd be good to learn another trade, you know? Anyway, Cameron, nice to see you again, whatever you're calling yourself, now."
"I believe I said you had me confused-"
"Ha ha, I don't remember you being such a joker! Where'd you disappear to, anyway? I asked Jinno if he knew, but he never gave me a straight answer. I do remember thinking it strange, later, when I heard about-" He suddenly fell silent, and his expression turned serious. "Um... well, never mind. I'm sure it was my mistake. No, of course you're not Cam. My apologies, sir." He quickly turned and left.
"What was that about?" asked Ginger.
Cameron once again glanced around the room, carefully making himself appear disinterested and certainly not nervous. But he turned back to his friends and said, "Maybe we should be going." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins, which he placed on the table.
"But-"
"I agree," said Alecstar. "It's been a long day, and we could all use a good night's rest."
Cameron shot him a grateful look, and the two of them stood up.
Tino could see that Ginger was about to object again, so he touched her hand, leaned across the table, and whispered in her ear, "He's a Sorreter. And he disappeared five years ago."
Understanding dawned, and Ginger's eyes widened. "Oh," she exclaimed, and looked at Cameron in shock.
The four of them quickly left the club and returned to their wagon. Cameron once again piloted, and Ginger joined him in the cockpit. The others stayed in back, and watched to make sure they weren't being followed. Ginger asked, "Are you really-"
"Yes."
"But why did you never-"
"Why do you think?"
She was silent for a centhour, then said, "It's just... you were fifteen. Surely too young to have fought in the war!"
Cameron sighed. This wasn't a conversation he'd ever wanted to have with any of his band-mates, but now that it was happening, a part of him was relieved, even glad. Still, it was not a comfortable topic. "I fought," he said. "For a while."
"So you're... what are they called, ex-Sorreters?"
"That's what some call us, yes."
"I'm sorry. It's still hard for me to believe. I hadn't heard about anyone that young fighting in the war, let alone being among the Protestant Sorreters who vanished."
"Well, I had quit the war, before that happened. I wasn't with them, then, but... when they went, so did I."
"Were your parents with them?"
"My parents died before I started fighting. All I had was my sister. And she was with them."
"I see." She fell silent again, then asked, "You don't think anyone overheard, back there? Or guessed the truth based on what that server said? Or would even care if they did guess?"
"I have no idea. I mean, I doubt it, but I can't afford to take any chances. If the others don't spot a tail, we should grab our things from the inn, and leave town. If they do spot a tail..." he shook his head. "I don't know."
"You don't think... if there's no tail, we should just assume you're safe?"
"Believe me, I'd prefer to stay for the rest of the fair. I know I was reluctant to come here, and now you know why. But what I have to do next, I'm even more reluctant to do."
"Why? What do you have to do next?"
He sighed again. "My people... have spies, throughout the world, keeping an eye on things. We report back to Bishop Drag, whenever we have anything worth reporting, which isn't often. But sometimes he gives us specific missions, and that's what the call I received earlier was. My sister, passing on a new assignment. I've got to go to Pritt, and meet a contact there. It's not an assignment I'm looking forward to. ...If you guys want to stay in Sorret, you can. Once I've built up some more chakra, I can just translocate to Pritt by myself. But honestly, now that you know, I'd really rather have you all with me. It'll be nice not to have to hide things from you anymore, and... well, I've just gotten used to your company. It's funny, earlier, when I was talking to my sister, she asked if I was home. And you know, not to get all mushy, or anything, but these days... wherever you guys are is home, to me."
Ginger smiled broadly. "Awwww! I feel the same way." After another pause, she added, "I mean, Plist still feels more like home to me than Sorret probably does to you, but-"
"Yeah, okay, no mush, remember? Look, I've been flying in circles already, otherwise we would have landed awhile ago. Why don't you ask the others if they've spotted anything suspicious?"
"Okay."
She did, and they hadn't, so Cameron landed. While the others packed the wagon and checked out of the inn, Cameron ran across the street to a magical convenience store, to buy a mana battery. By the time he got back, they were ready to go.