Chapter Twenty-Three

"Okay, Mr. Biscuit, listen very closely."

Bev stood outside the town hall the next morning. Inside, her freshly baked rosemary bread—that she'd woken up at midnight to start—was being protected by Vellora and Allen. Petula hadn't arrived yet, so Bev was taking a few minutes to make sure her laelaps understood his assignment.

"I know you're going to want to eat everything," Bev said. "But you need to manage your impulses. Your one job today is to find magic in the food, okay? If there's magic, I want you to tell Ms. Banks. Understand? Don't eat anything."

Biscuit opened his mouth, his tongue unfurling as he smiled at her. It certainly didn't look like he was listening.

"Don't embarrass me, please," Bev said, straightening. "Now you wait here until Ms. Banks arrives."

She stepped toward the door, expecting him to follow her, but he stayed put.

"Good boy."

Inside, the room was full of delicious smells. Already, the winners for each of the other contests had been awarded. Merv, unfortunately, didn't even get an honorable mention for his blanket, but Trent's pumpkin had won the gourd contest handily. All that was left was the final round of food, so the bread-makers, pie-makers, and jam-makers were seated in rows in the town hall, holding onto their contest entries. Unsurprisingly, the delegation from Middleburg had left in the night, leaving only those from Pigsend and the surrounding areas to compete.

Everyone, unfortunately, except for Stanton Bucko.

"Well, I tell you, I'm glad I returned to Middleburg when I did," he said, holding yet another beautiful loaf of sourdough. "Can't tell you how embarrassed I was to hear that Mayor Twinsly was in any way implicated in any kind of tomfoolery. And to know that there was a member of the queen's service in town? Well, I'm grateful I had business to attend to back home."

Bev sidled up to Allen and Vellora and took possession of her rosemary bread. Unlike her first entry, this one had been crafted to perfection, and the dried rosemary was coming through like a long-lost friend. She hated to use the last of it, especially since her propagated piece still looked mostly dead, but she was determined to submit something.

"You're going to win, I know it," Allen said.

"And if you don't, I'm gonna roll some heads," Vellora replied.

"I don't need to win," Bev said, glancing at Stanton. "Just competing is winning enough."

"That's what a loser says," Vellora barked. "You gotta own it."

As before, Ida walked around and took samples of each bread. Stanton cleaved his own slice for her, and Bev…well, Bev probably should've done the same, but she let Ida pick the slice. There were only four contestants left, including two farmers from between Pigsend and Middleburg. Once the bread went into Rustin's office, Ida told the contestants they could sit down and await the final awards.

"They'll all be revealed together," Ida said. "Once everyone's been adjudicated."

"Why do we have to wait?" Stanton cried.

"Because it's more interesting that way," Ida replied, giving him a look. "Jam-makers? You're up. Come grab a number from me."

Bev, Allen, and Vellora took her rosemary bread from the table and headed to an empty bench to sit. Bev broke the bread in half and handed it to Allen and Vellora.

"For your assistance in protecting my entry," she said.

"Ahem." Etheldra's voice echoed behind them.

"Etheldra? What in the…What are you doing here?"

"I made a pie, of course," she said. "And I don't see you handing out that delicious rosemary bread and not offering me a piece, right?"

Allen chuckled and broke his in half, handing it to her. She took the piece happily, taking a bite and making a low sound of enjoyment before wandering back to the rest of the pie-makers.

"How long is this going to take, anyway?" Vellora asked.

"If you need to get back to the butcher shop, you're free to go," Bev said.

"Nah, with the festivalgoers leaving town, our orders have dropped." Vellora puffed out her chest. "Besides that, it's nice to see my wife in action. She really does love this stuff."

"Allen?" Bev said, looking to the other side. "Do you need to get back to the bakery?"

"No, um…" His cheeks reddened. "Vicky's in the jam-making contest. She wanted me to be here."

Bev caught sight of Allen's girlfriend in the pews, and the girl waved at him sheepishly.

"So are you two…official yet?" Vellora asked.

"I mean, not officially, no. But maybe? I don't know." He shuffled his feet as he looked at the ground. "Gotta finish paying off my debts before I can even think about…" He coughed. "Well."

"Allen Mackey, don't you dare let me hear you've been stalling asking your best girl out because you're paying me back," Bev scolded. "Your mother would come back and haunt me."

He blushed.

Once the jam was collected, the pie-makers were called. Etheldra hadn't been kidding that she was included in the pie contest, but only two others came up to the podium.

"Ida told me Petula had to scrounge up to find the best of Pigsend, because all the Middleburg people withdrew from the contest," Vellora whispered. "Scandal, scandal."

"Be interesting to see how that shakes out next year," Bev said, turning in her seat. "Is Petula even here yet?"

As if summoned, the back doors opened and Petula came strolling into the room, Biscuit walking nicely by her side. Bev almost didn't recognize the dog, he was being so well-behaved. But she absolutely held her breath as Petula sat at the front table, and Biscuit hopped onto the seat next to her.

"Bring me the jams."

Ida brought forth four plates with jam samples on each one. Petula first had Biscuit inspect each one. Bev closed her eyes, praying her laelaps wouldn't gobble everything up. But to her surprise, he sniffed then looked at Petula expectantly as she tasted each one, jotting down notes on a paper.

"Now, the breads."

Vellora and Allen took Bev's hand as the four pieces of bread were placed on the table. Bev could see the flecks of rosemary in her bread and held her breath as Biscuit sniffed hers for a long time. But he didn't react, so Petula took a bite and carried on.

"Finally, the pies."

The same routine followed, and within minutes, Petula was wiping her mouth and counting on her page.

"I would first like to say," she announced, earning something of a groan from the audience, "that this has been the most…memorable festival I've ever attended. It brings me joy to see so many of you so invested in the agricultural arts, and to be so motivated to hold and maintain a festival of this size in your town."

"Oh my goodness, get on with it," Allen muttered.

But she went on, dragging out the decision as she spoke of the importance of fairness and adherence to rules. Bev had never once been impatient for anything, but as the minutes ticked on, and the monologue showed no end in sight, she tapped her foot impatiently.

"And so," she said, "it is my pleasure to offer the following awards."

Bev perked up.

"In the category of jam-making, honorable mention, Ms. Mandisa Munson."

Polite applause erupted as a farmer from outside Pigsend hurried up to the front to grab a yellow ribbon. Her face was bright red as she clutched it and carried it back to her seat.

"And in the category of jam-making, first prize, Ms. Mandy Nowak."

Allen immediately turned to Vicky, whose face had fallen in disappointment. Bev nudged him to get up and go to her, and luckily, the dumb kid did something right, putting his arm around his would-be girlfriend as she rested her teary cheek on his shoulder.

"Now, in the category of pie-making, honorable mention…"

Bev blew air between her lips as the honorable mention for pie was given to Gilda Climber, the blacksmith's apprentice, and Etheldra took home the top prize. Her pulse was speeding up as they drew closer and closer to the final award.

"In our final category, bread-making," Petula said. "The honorable mention goes to…"

Vellora's grip on Bev's hand grew so tight she lost blood flow.

"Bev!"

The entire town hall erupted in cheers as Vellora pushed Bev to her feet. She was stunned—her mouth falling open as she stumbled to the front. Biscuit was wagging his tail happily as she approached, and even Petula looked mildly happy to be giving her the ribbon.

"It was very very close," she said, under the din of applause. "And perhaps…perhaps I might've been tilted one way to avoid the look of impropriety, considering your dog was… But I want you to know…that is perhaps the best rosemary bread I've ever had in my life."

Bev turned, beaming with joy as she walked back to her seat.

"Yes, yes, settle down," Petula said, holding up her hands. "Finally, first prize in bread-making goes to…Stanton Bucko!"

It was relative crickets compared to the cheers Bev got, and she felt a little bad for the Middleburg baker as he rose to accept his award. As soon as he took the ribbon, the crowd erupted in conversation, and Bev was absolutely swamped by well-wishers and congratulators, including Ida, Etheldra, and even Mayor Hendry.

"I knew you could do it," she said, shaking Bev's hand.

"But I didn't win," Bev said.

"You got a ribbon, that's all I care about." She adjusted her tunic. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a letter to write to Miranda."

Bev could barely keep up with all the conversations around her, and her cheeks threatened to fall off from all the grinning. Finally, the crowd seemed to thin, and Bev stood in the afterglow of the celebrations.

"You did it!" Ida squealed, practically throwing herself onto Bev. "I'm so proud of you!"

"I can't believe I won a ribbon!" Bev said, looking at it again. Sure enough, it was embroidered with Honorable Mention, Bread-Making Contest. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Well, it's not a first prize, but it'll do," Stanton said, meandering over wearing his blue ribbon on his chest. "Will we be seeing you next year?"

"I suppose I have to," Bev said with a chuckle. "And you?"

"If I'm allowed back, I plan to continue my streak." He held out his hand. "I do have to know, if your garden was destroyed, where did you get the rosemary?"

"Turns out my friends had stashed some away." Bev grinned to Ida, who seemed to be dying to ask Stanton if the stalk she'd found in his room had been clipped from her bush, but it didn't seem important now. "Hoping that the sprig I planted will propagate now, or I'm going to have to start all over. Luckily, I was able to find the rest of my garden and salvage that, so I won't be without my herbs this winter."

"What, erm…do you think it is about your rosemary that makes it taste so good?" Stanton asked.

"It's not magic, I can assure you of that," Bev said. "Claude or Renault or whatever his name is was clear in his diary that his pig ate the entire plant and found nothing."

"Inconclusive, I think, was the phrase I heard," Stanton said with a look.

"Well, if there's magic, it's not mine," Bev said. "I guess it'll have to remain a mystery."

~

Bev was on cloud nine the rest of the day, humming through her chores and proudly displaying her ribbon for all to see during a very small but boisterous dinner that night. It was all her regular patrons, plus Ida, Vellora, Vicky, and Allen, who'd baked a cake for all to enjoy. Even Biscuit got into the mix, eating several slices of cake and beef before falling asleep in front of the fire.

And if that weren't enough, everyone who came to dinner helped her clean, so the inn was spick-and-span within an hour.

With the inn empty of travelers for the first time in a week, Bev retreated to her room early with her prize and dog. Biscuit curled up in a ball on her bed and continued his snooze while Bev admired the ribbon in all its beautiful detail. She was placing it on her windowsill next to the small rosemary plant when she stopped short.

"Is that…?"

A grin blossomed on her face. Her rosemary plant had sprung a new branch!

It was alive!

She could've kissed it but didn't want to break any of the branches. So she settled for a little happy dance before changing into her night clothes and crawling into bed. Before long, she and Biscuit were fast asleep.

But not for long—because something was glowing.

Bev sat up, groggy. It was certainly not time to wake up. Biscuit growled as she sat up and searched her room for the source of the glow.

"What in the…"

She opened the top drawer and pulled out the illuminated amulet fragment. As she held it, magic sizzled at her fingertips, almost causing her to toss the thing back into her drawer.

She jumped when Biscuit placed his paws on her thighs, but surprise turned into curiosity as the dog—laelaps—sniffed the amulet like it was something very interesting to him.

Still, as Bev stared at it, she couldn't help but feel it was time to get rid of the blasted thing. It had already nearly cost her a garden, and before that, her inn. Having it on her person was asking for trouble, especially since the queen's people seemed to know something was afoot in Pigsend.

"Okay, B," Bev said. "Let's go for a walk."

~

Although it was very late, Bev didn't want to chance being seen by anyone, so she headed toward the forest thicket that Biscuit seemed excited about. She reasoned that if someone had found it there, she could simply blame it on Claude/Renault and say it must've been his, considering his pig had been so infatuated with the area.

For what she hoped was the last time, she made her way through the brambles and branches until she reached the clearing. She couldn't chuck it anywhere—she'd have to make sure it was hidden enough that someone passing by wouldn't see it.

Biscuit was sniffing the ground in the corner—the same place she'd found Merv's blanket, so Bev assumed it would be more yarn, but he began digging in the dirt. There was something…something in the ground. Glowing, like the amulet piece.

She knelt beside him, reaching into the thicket and pulled out…another piece of the amulet.

"Oh…no…" Bev looked around. One piece was bad enough. Two? That was absolutely asking for…

She was standing in a field covered in blood. Everything was red, including her hands. The sound of dying soldiers echoed around her, as did the stench of…

Bev snapped back into herself, shivering as the memory flitted through her consciousness.

"Absolutely not."

She chucked the amulet back into the hole where Biscuit had found it then took the other and flung it as far as it would go into the thicket.

Whatever memories wanted to come to the surface could stay buried and if the queen's people found the amulet, oh well. She wasn't getting pulled into this nonsense—whatever had happened in the past was better left there.

"Let's go, B."