Jax nods encouragingly. “Exactly! Places, people.”
But I guess I had no reason to worry. There is a reason all of us are in FTRS. We’re good at pretending to be what we’re not. Once everyone is focused, our plan falls into place. Jax takes Maxine’s arm and the two begin walking over to the HEAS offices, talking animatedly about a puppet show they supposedly just saw.
A few seconds later, Kayla skips along behind them, never getting too close, never stepping too far away. “Look!” I hear her cry to no one in particular. “Six pence! Anyone want to help me throw some in the HEAS fountain?”
Ollie pulls his cloak tight as he peruses the peddler carts. “If I could just find some gingerroot flowers or stems, I’d get an A on this class project,” he says loudly.
Too bad gingerroot is harder to come by than fairy godmothers. Maxine found some once (ogres have an excellent sense of smell), but I used it on Jocelyn when Harlow escaped. Maxine and I should really hunt near the Hollow Woods for some more.
I lean against the brick wall of the Pied Piper’s Music Emporium where I can see the whole square laid out in front of me. There’s no sign of Pete or Olaf. In the distance, the silver turrets of Royal Manor blind anyone who dares look at them too long. I focus on the cobblestone path around the fountain that leads toward 2 Boot Way. I’m so close and yet so far.
I see Jax and Maxine inch closer to the HEAS doors. I can see them whispering and pointing to a shining silver box on the front of the door. Is that a security system to get inside? A speaker? I hate not knowing what is happening! I could help break into that joint. I know it. The flurry of workers going into the building has stopped. The foot traffic in the village square has thinned out, and any hope I had of bumping into Anna or my siblings is growing slim. The only children out now are too little for schooling. I notice Kayla hand a small child a coin for the fountain.
My eyes linger on a boy carrying a blue balloon with his mother. He bops the thing up and down, reminding me of my little brothers Han and Hamish. Another tug and the balloon flies away. His mother makes an attempt to reach it, but the balloon is now almost at the top of the clock tower. The kid is wailing when, just as suddenly, the balloon begins to descend.
I watch as a woman shrouded under a red velvet cloak reaches for the balloon and catches it in her hand. It’s the source! She’s come! I want to scream it out and tell the others, but that will blow my cover. I wait patiently for Jax and Maxine to turn around or Ollie to look my way so I can alert someone to what’s happening. They’re all in their own little worlds. I watch as the woman in red hands the balloon to the squealing child and the mother, who stares in disbelief.
“How the heck did she do that?” I ask myself out loud.
The woman in red looks my way as if she can hear me. I feel my fingers tingle. Her hood hides her face in darkness, but I can see just the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile that I seem to recognize. The question is from where? It’s not Alva. Returning a balloon wouldn’t be her style.
“Thief!”
I turn and see a woman at the caramel cake cart pointing to Ollie, who is holding a bag of patty cakes. “Thief!” One hangs from Ollie’s mouth. He quickly drops a smoke bomb. “Stop him!”
“Ollie,” I groan. When I look back for the woman in the cape, she’s gone.
People screech as the smoke bomb’s cloud of gray smoke grows. Villagers start running in every direction. Ollie takes off toward the Pegasi valet stand just as the sound of hooves gallop into the square. I don’t see Maxine or Jax. Strangely, Kayla is sitting by the fountain like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
“What seems to be the problem?” I hear Pete the police chief ask from atop a horse that makes him look taller than his three-foot height. Olaf, his half-ogre sidekick, walks up beside him, making the ground shake. I crouch behind a barrel of water that a horse is tied to.
“It was a boy! About this high, just stole a whole bag of my cakes and then set off a smoke bomb to get away,” the peddler explains. “I think he went that way.”
“Looks like another FTRS candidate, Olaf.” Pete laughs. “Flora should give us commission. Which way, ma’am?”
“He went that way! Toward the Pegasi valet stand.”
My hair stands up on my neck. That’s our meeting point! If Pete finds Ollie there, he’ll be caught. I need a distraction.
I stand up slowly even though Pete is just feet away, and I stare at the horse drinking from the barrel. “Hey, boy,” I say, talking to the horse as if he can hear me like a Pegasi would. “Want to go for a little run?” I untie his rope and with a little push, the horse takes off at a gallop—right toward Pete, who pulls his own horse out of the way just in time. I use the ticking seconds of my diversion to go straight to Kayla, who is reading a small scroll.