Page 53 of Renaissance Bear

Maybe, once again, it just all came down to choice.

The quarterfinals came to an end while he was struggling with it all, and he was called up to face an armsman a little smaller than himself, but strong as an ox. His bear yelled,Swat him in the face!Knock him out! Bite his butt until he runs away!with enormous enthusiasm. Jon let himself channel some of that energy, although he was careful to keep his strength at human norms.

Still, he dumped his opponent on his ass faster than anybody expected, and got a polite yield that let him drift back to the ranks and await his next fight. Lady Alessandra was over there cheering for him, but it felt like she was going through the motions. The passion was gone.

He couldn't tell if it was heartbreak or anger growing inside him as the next round of quarter-finals was fought. Whatever was happening between himself and Alis, it certainly wasn't herfault. It was just fickle fate, pulling Jon in directions he'd never expected.

You worry too much,his bear said. Jon guessed it might be right, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself.

The two combatants on the field now were putting up a terrific fight. Jon thought he could see thathisfinal opponent would be the bigger of the two, a slow-moving, deliberate swordsman who wasted no motion but laid waste when a blow landed. There would be a break between the last fights to allow him to recover, but Jon was looking forward to meeting the man in battle. They seemed equally matched, to him, and he didn't know who would win, but it would be a good fight.

At least something would be good. The shifters at the faire had spent a lot of the day sniffing people and trying to comeup with 'apples' they couldn't smell. Most of them had ended up with headaches from the clouds of perfume and cologne being sweated away under the afternoon sun, but the true humans in attendance just smelled like ordinary people. It was frustrating, and Jon was worried about Mayor Whitfield, as much as anything else.

The bigger man did win the match, and saluted Jon with a hand over his heart as he went to take a break. Jon nodded in response, and sat for a while with his eyes closed. He felt like he'd missed something, something almost literally right under his nose, but until everything with this upcoming bout, Alis, and Lord Edward was resolved, he just didn't think he was going to be able to focus on it.

The fight itself came as a welcome relief. He could lose himself in the effort, judging his opponent, testing his weaknesses and Jon's own before all at once they were suddenly in the midst of all-out battle. They clashed, fell apart, came together again, and Jon was dimly aware that Laurie had come to cheer him on, which was great of his little brother.

He didn't even register the other man's mistake consciously. It was something subtle about the way he stepped back, the way his foot landed, weight not quite square. Jon pressed the sudden advantage in a flurry of blows and disarmed his opponent at such speed that they were both astonished when the other guy hit the ground in a thump of dust. For a second the guy just lay there, breathless, before letting out a huge bark of laughter. Jon reached down to offer a hand, pulled the man to his feet, and found himself grinning sheepishly.

"No," the other guy said, "no, that was great. Good job. I gotta watch my footwork, man, it keeps betraying me. Congratulations."

"Thanks. It was a good fight." Jon gathered himself a moment, hoping against hope that when he turned to LadyAlessandra, fate would seize him again and he would be as in love with her as he'd been the first moment he saw her.

And she was smiling, waving, applauding, her favor dancing in the wind in invitation, but to Jon, it was as if she was lifeless, all the spark gone from her eyes. Or at least, the spark that was meant for him. Her smile certainly seemed genuine, and her laughter wasn't forced. It was just as if Alis had completely disappeared, leaving a stranger in her place.

Jon, feeling miserable, came forward to receive his favor. Lady Alessandra leaned in, clearly trying to say something, but Jon only bowed and murmured, "Thank you, my lady." Then he backed away, not wanting to hear an explanation of why she was sodifferentright now, if she could even offer one in the few seconds they had. She visibly sighed and sat back again, and the crowd's praise roared in his ears, but meant nothing to him without Alis's comforting presence smiling into his soul.

At least he could take a place near the field's exit, so that when Lord Edward left the lists, Jon could speak to him, and settle this emotional rollercoaster once and for all.

Chapter 25

It had been a long,hotafternoon, mostly sitting in the little changing booth tent that the Faire had provided for Alis and Jasmine. Jasmine had put on Princess Cecilia's costume hours ago, and helped Alis into the most awkward parts of the armor before apologetically leaving her sister to sit around and stew in her own juices. Alis kept lifting her arm to sniff at the armor, then sniffing the other, currently unarmored, arm to smell it.

The armor side smelled like warm metal and, more distantly, sweat. The unarmored side just smelled like sweat. Lots of sweat. And her deodorant, obviously, but now that she was out of Shelly's clothes, she smelled like herself, and herself smelled like sweat.

If she kept this up she would be too embarrassed by her own stink to even lift her arms to fight, but she kept doing it, trying to tease some kind of thought out of the back of her mind. Shelly's perfume smelledbad, to humans. But Alis had no idea what it smelled like to shifters.

Maybe it smelled like nothing at all.

She said, "Shit," out loud and got up to pace the little tent. Jon was fighting, so she couldn't call him to ask whether he'd noticed Shelly's scent, or lack thereof, when he'd come by the Red Court while she was still part of it. But Jasmine had asked what kind of reason, barring illness, would have kept Shelly away from the Faire.

Keeping an eye on a kidnap victim was a pretty good reason.

Alis was almost sure she was causing problems as she looked up the police department's number on her phone and called it. "Hi, I'm looking for Officer Saunders?"

She was transferred through to what was obviously a cell phone, but Gus Saunders picked up after a couple of rings. "Officer Saunders."

"Hi, Officer. This is Alis Capellas? We met at City Hall? I was with?—"

"I remember," Saunders said a bit dryly. "What can I do for you, Alis?"

"Um." Alis ran a hand over her face. "Okay, this might be a wild goose chase, but you remember that conversation about onions and apples?"

A strained silence met the question before Saunders sighed. "Yes. What about it?"

"I've been wearing Shelly Banks's court gown here at the faire, and it smells…weird."

"It smells weird," Saunders said after a moment's pause.

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