“What a shame. Look at me Plinth. I trained for years, you know. And yet, here I am, slicing fruit. Like some kind ah street bee.”

  Cophin balanced a knife between two fingers and tapped the handle on a nearby table.

  *Tap*Tap*Tap*

  Plinth held up a pineapple in his hands. “It’s not so bad. Think of it as an opportunity to keep your skills sharp. Now order up!”

  (@)<<<

  Plinth tossed the pineapple into the air. With a deft maneuver Cophin juggled the knife once, cutting the crown off of the fruit in one slice.

  (@) - - - <<<

  As the knife landed back in his hand, he spun, making a series of quick diagonal cuts.

  (/@/)/

  The pineapple landed on a nearby table and dissected itself into a row of professionally sliced rings.

  () @ ()

  The crowd assembled in the private box applauded.

  Cophin smirk-smiled as best he could. “Thank you. Thank you. I’m so glad ta have an audience that’s so easily impressed.”

  A server stepped up and gathered the pineapple slices to be distributed to the attendees.

  Jonathan Reference slid back into the room. He clapped as he walked over to Cophin. “Impressive. So you’re more than just a pretty face.”

  The scar at the corner of Cophin’s mouth twitched. “You stepped out right quick. Did you need ta polish your belt buckle or something?”

  Jonathan stepped past Cophin and looked over the railing into the center of the Convention Hall. “Oh, looks like things are starting to get interesting in there. They’ve made it all the way to the fourth round.”

  Plinth looked over also. “How impulsive.”

  Jonathan put an elbow on the railing and turned to the other two men. “Care to make a wager?”

  Cophin and Plinth looked at each other.

  “A wager?”

  “Sure. This is a gambling house after all. What have you got to lose?”

  “What do we have to lose? What is it you want?” Plinth tilted his head back.

  “How about we play for… a table reservation for tonight.”

  “At our restaurant?”

  “No. At his.” Jonathan pointed a finger at Lux.

  Cophin frowned. “That’s not really-”

  “Deal.” Plinth held out a hand.

  Jonathan shook it. “And now for the real question. Who will you be betting on? Will you select the experienced crafter and his team of talented assistants? Or will you choose the upstart young lad who looks like he wants to spit in the Dark Eye itself.”

  Cophin and Plinth looked over the railing at the stage below.

  “I choose the boy.” said Plinth.

  “Not a smart wager. The match is already half over. There’s no way he can win.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Not every gamble is about winning and losing.” Plinth smiled.

  Jonathan looked confused.

  “And you?” Jonathan turned to Cophin.

  Cophin sneered. “No bet from me. I don’t like ta play childish games.”

  “Too bad. You could have split your bet and wagered on the fashion crafter. That would have blocked me from total victory. But as it is, I shall take the wager you refused and bet on Master Eaupéril. Now let’s see how things play out.”

  Across the room Councilor A ate some pineapple off of a toothpick. “Did they ever finish that competition?”

  “No. They’re still going.” Jonathan shouted back.

  “Really? Perhaps I should take a look.”

  “For tha love of peat.” Cophin threw his head back and looked at the ceiling. “Alright. Hey! Everyone! You ever see someone skin a grape in mid-air.”

  #

  “He must be cheating.” Chance spoke to the falcon that was perched on his wrist. “There’s no other explanation for it.”

  The falcon blinked its golden eyes and nuzzled against Chance’s hand.

  “He could have gotten lucky.” said the Mendicant Mermaid as she rubbed some aloe onto her red rashed shoulders.

  “Not a chance. That Sifter boy is a walking disaster. He lives in the woods. He smells like pine needles. He is dressed like Constantine Grimager! He wouldn’t know fashion from a dead fish.”

  Luke took a single step towards his father. “Ash summoned something useful.”

  “Even a broken clock can catch the hour once a day. That does not make it useful.”

  Luke frowned. “I think that-”

  Chance cut him off. “Now if you want to be useful, hold Beck.”

  Chance held out his arm and the falcon hopped onto Luke’s shoulder. Luke froze in place as the bird’s talons gripped the fabric of his jacket.

  One of the falcon’s golden eyes stared directly into Luke’s face. The bird began to slowly extend its pinions and move its wings up and down. The feathers tickled the side of Luke’s face and he flinched back.

  “Relax son. He’s only stretching his wings.” Chance didn’t look back. He glanced across the stage at where Ash was standing next to Penny. “I'm not going to lose to some amateur theater student.“

  The Mendicant Mermaid looked up. “What’s the problem? You can’t lose. Even if he won the next two rounds it would still only be a tie.”

  Chance frowned. “Open the case. Get that piece.”

  “Are you sure sir?”

  “It's not summoned. That would be cheating.” said one of the assistants.

  Chance pointed his chin at them. “What would really be cheating, is cheating these people out of their rightfully deserved expectations of me demonstrating how I am the most accomplished fashion designer in the entire Kingdom. Now are you going to stand there and disappoint this whole auditorium or are you going to do what I say?”

  The assistant looked down. “I… I'll get the case.”

  #

  “So what should we display next?” Penny asked.

  “I have no idea. I never thought we would make it this far. I was ready to give up after round two.” Ash said.

  “I know. I was there.”

  “Help me dig through the pile. You were right. We need to play to the judges. If we can find something with practical utility we might be able to sway Jack and Platina.”

  “Practical, practical…” Penny shuffled through the huge pile of clothes that Ash had summoned on the the side of the stage. “It would help if I knew what I was looking for.”

  “It would really help if I knew what I was going to summon, but we don’t have time to wish. We’re going to have to work with what dropped for us today. What about these? Wooden sandals?”

  Ash held up a cobbling of wooden footwear.

  “I have sensitive feet.” Penny replied. “How about this? An umbrella that you wear on your head like a hat.”

  “No. Our last item was waterproof. That is nowhere near as impressive.”

  “A velcro belt?”

  “Fingerless gloves?”

  “How about these pants with chair legs attached to the butt?”

  “Maybe this jacket with a portable writing desk sewn into the front?”

  Ash ran his hands through hair. “You would think after all these years I would no longer be surprised that the things I summon are total crap, but here I am still holding out hope.”

  Penny held up a scarf that had been tied into a gordian knot. “This is kind of exciting.”

  Ash looked sideways at her. “Is it really?”

  “Oh yes. I’m normally very lucky. I was sure that I would meet Master Eaupéril when I came to the Gambling Hall today. And I did. Then I was sure that when he called me down onstage that I would see him win the competition. And he probably will. But for some reason I was teamed up with you.” Penny casually played with the ends of the scarf. “And now we’re struggling for the chance to simply, not lose. It is kind of exciting.”

  “Screw it!” Ash held out his hands.

  *Zap*

  Random articles of clothing rained down around them.

  “Grab whatever you can carry. We’ll try to sell it on the stage.”