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I smiled happily at the sight. Copperpot had outdone himself.

Today was the day of the Octamillenial faire, that long awaited event. All of Redwall had been transformed into a massive open party, with exciting exhibitions, marvels of magic and machine, and lots and lots of food. Everywhere I looked there were food carts and places to spend what little remained of my enormous piles of gold. It reminded me of Playland in Vancouver, minus the hot dogs and plus a lot of hairy children.

Okay, maybe the hair wasn’t that different. I thought back to some of the in-vogue hairdos of the nineties and shuddered. I’d always thanked whatever Gods existed back on Earth, which were apparently many, that Sammy had never wanted a big poofy do. Now, Caroline’s hair back in the day, when she’d gone through that ‘Fitness Goddess’ phase had been something to see! Brushing her hair had been like parting the red sea!

I felt the tension in my shoulders releasing as I watched a group of mustachioed youngsters run past carrying giant stuffed animals. It seemed some traditions were universal.

I turned to the dwarfess beside me with a big shit-eating grin. “Want to go get some candied fruit? They managed to bring in honey from some place called Hive Dungeon up in the human kingdoms. It sounds awesome!”

“Hive is a horror of a dungeon.” Tourmaline said, matter of factly in her same-song blase tone. “It has some of the most deaths per capita of any dungeon in North Erden.”

“Spoilsport.” I muttered. “I’m getting some of those rock candy sticks at the very least.”

Tourmaline sniffed. “That’s bad for your teeth and can cause unnecessary weight gain. And it’s so sweet. How can you stand it?”

“But it’s delicious! And it’s only available every 8000 years!”

“... It’s available year round from Mctaffy’s shop.” Tourmaline’s lip twitched. “Though I admit there is something about festive candy that makes it taste better. I am not sure why; I’ve tested them and they are elementally identical. Are you sure you’re not a gnome?”

“It’s the joy! The fun in trying something special on a special day!”

So saying, I dragged her over to a streetside cart and got in line. She wasn’t in her usual disguise, instead donning a bluish-silver set of mithril light plate. Her skirt was hemmed in gold, with some tasteful gems at the cuffs. Her platinum curls and beard had been smoothed out until they looked like twin scintillating waterfalls. She was quite eye-catching, and more than one dwarf stumbled as they walked by.

“Thanks for the invite.” I commented as we waited our turn. “I really wanted to talk to someone who wasn’t from the Thirsty Goat. Being locked in the inn for a solid month was driving me stir crazy.”

“Myself as well. I wanted to thank you properly for saving my Grandfather.”

I poked her in the side and she slapped my hand away. “Hey, I saved you too, you know.”

“I would have been fine. I have no real value as a political target outside of grandfather, and they would’ve had him.”

I shook my head. “Never underestimate what desperate men, er, dwarves are capable of. And you sell yourself short, you’re very valuable.”

“I do not see it that way.”

“Well you’re valuable to Opal, right? And Annie? And, well, me, I guess.” I rubbed my arm sheepishly on the back of my neck.

She gave me a long look, then smiled softly. “Thank you Peter.”

The line moved fast, all things considered, and I was soon munching on a slightly-too-sweet stick of candy. And it was expensive! It was easy to forget, but sugar was a rare commodity down here.

We made our way down the street, appreciating the sights as we went. After the bubbling tension of the past month, it was nice to see everyone so festive and happy for once. The mood around the goat had been downright dour.

Of course, talk eventually turned to work.

“What is your plan for the contest?” Tourmaline asked.

“I’m really not sure.” I said, shrugging. “I… don’t have enough attachment to Crack to say, yet. It’s my home now, but I can’t say I know enough about what defines it.”

Tourmaline gave me an inscrutable stare. “Have your memories still not returned?”

“Mmm… not fully.”

We paused under a tree that’d been installed in a small section of green space. A sign attached to it read ‘Stop watering the tree with beer, you idiots’. We stood in silence for a while, watching the chaos of the fair.

“I’ve read your file at city hall,” Tourmaline blurted, suddenly. “You’ve never been a [Brewer].”

I blinked. “Oh. Uh, I thought that was private information.”

“My grandfather is the Duke. It was easy to get.”

I crossed my arms. “A bit of an invasion of privacy, isn’t it? To quote a friend, rude!”

Tourmaline snorted. “I was allying myself with you. That much protection is natural.”

“Says the dwarfess who never showed her real face in the entire first year I knew her.”

“Says the dwarf who may or may not be Peter Samson.”

“Nope, just Peter Roughtuff.” I leaned back against the tree and broke a piece of rock candy off with my teeth, chewing it in contemplation. This wasn’t exactly unexpected. Heck, I’d given even odds she already knew about my unique status. I decided to approach the problem from a different direction. “What’s your best guess?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

She eyed me warily. “That you are somehow faking his identity. Though Sam should have seen through it. He clearly believes you are who you say you are.”

I flinched at the reminder of he-whom-I-was-trying-not-to-think-about but managed a smile. “Cold.”

“What?”

“It means that you’re wrong. Keep guessing!”

“... You managed to hide from the government and Guild long enough to become an illegal Brewer without anyone finding out.”

“Colder.” I said, pulling away from the tree. “Let’s head to Berry’s exhibition, and you can keep guessing while we walk.”

We made our way through the packed streets, dodging revelers and street performers. With all the music about, there were often groups of drunken dwarves dancing in traditional styles that ranged from slapping knees and kicking feet to bashing each other over the head with wooden sticks.

At one point we were forced to cross the street while a gnomish [Tamer] ran his duck through an obstacle course that culminated in the duck jumping through a flaming hoop. I shivered at the sight of the yellow monster and pulled Tourmaline along faster.

She continued guessing as we walked.

“You gained an Ability that helped you learn how to brew.”

“Cold.”

“You used an Ability to steal memories and knowledge from someone else.”

“Ewww, cold. Is that really a thing?”

“Yes. You were given a divine revelation.”

“Hmmm…. Warmer.”

“I assume that means I am close?”

I smirked, and drawled, “Waaarmer.”

She stopped for a brief moment, a knot of consternation in the milling crowd. “The Gods are involved in this?”

“Warmer! Don’t stop, come on, we’re going to be late!”

We doubled our pace and ran in silence for a while as she thought, her eyebrows crinkling cutely.

We knew we’d arrived because the crowd somehow grew thicker, and we could see the enormous stage that Berry had built, or rather grown, with the aid of Joseph and the rest of the elvish embassy.

A huge tree stood in one of the many beer gardens dotting Redwall, in this case a rather unique one called ‘The Actual Bloody Garden’. It was, of course, actually a garden, with grass, flowers, and everything else. It had provided the necessary soil and magic for Jospeh to grow a gigantic fuck-off tree in under a week. It rose up into the air at least ten storeys, and its branches spread out over the nearby single-storey buildings. The bottom branches had been covered in wooden slats to create a stage, and then festooned with lights and streamers.

It looked massively out of place, and gloriously festive.

Tourmaline looked over the incredible bit of construction and then back at me. “The Whistlemugs, Raspberrysyrup, Boomdust. You seem to be connected to so much change. Are you – “ her tone grew oddly hopeful, and cracked slightly “are you Barck?”

I could guess where her mind was going. “No, I’m sorry Tourmaline. I’m not a God.”

“Ah.”

“But you’re getting warmer.” I nodded at the stage. “Let’s find a good place to sit, and you can give me your next guess after the concert.”

We managed to buy our way into a prime spot on top of a nearby shop, and settled down. Tourmaline activated an Ability and brought a small keg of beer out of nowhere with a *pop*, and I poured us each a glass. It was our own Kinshasa brew, and I nodded approvingly as we raised our mugs in cheers.

“For Crack and Annie!” We both intoned as the lights on the tree strobed, and the whine of an electric guitar blasted out over the crowd. A trio of elves danced out onto the stage, their movements kicking up leaves. They were close to dwarven in shape and size with long green beards, and I tapped my toes in glee. The mythical dwarven elves at last! They were dressed in black and white outfits that shimmered with inner magical light.

And then the pink princess of pop strutted onto stage wearing a black sequined halter top that made her look like she’d been dipped in black diamonds. She struck a pose and the crowd cheered. She thrust up her fist, and the music swelled into the nostalgic refrain of Taylor Swift’s New Romantics. This had been Sammy’s favourite song during her Swifty stage. Berry and her dancers strutted about the stage singing the opening lines. Then, as Berry ramped up to the chorus, my limited [Manasight] picked up the movement of Mana and the entire garden was swallowed by pitch darkness. Then with her next few lines of song, the leaves of the tree were transformed into glittering gems that dropped down like raindrops, the only light shimmering in the entire world.

It was breathtaking.

Which was precisely why the crowd started screaming the nostalgic scream of teenage girls.

The rest of the concert was much the same; Berry had clearly chosen a tracklist celebrating change and hope. Break Free, Levitating,Don’t Stop me Now, and hilariously, Crazy in Love. It wasn’t all roses though, and I openly wept when she came out onto the stage with a guitar and solo’d Hurt by Johnny Cash.

After a solid hour of song and spectacle, it was over. Berry ended the concert with a massive conflagration of fire that flowed all the way up to the great crack far above and spread out like a rippling carpet.

I really hoped she had a permit for that.

The crowd immediately began to disperse, seeking variously food, bathrooms, more to drink, or a quiet place to sit and contemplate the meaning of life. Tourmaline and I didn’t have anywhere to go, so we decided to wait for the crowd to disperse before we climbed down.

“You knew a lot of those songs.” Tourmaline declared. “And I’m certain you haven’t watched her practice for a while.”

“Nope. I was locked in the house pretty tight. Does that change your guess?”

Tourmaline crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her forearm as she considered me. “You said that Barck was a warmer guess. Are you a soul that Barck placed in the body of Peter Samson?”

“Ooooh! Getting hot!”

Tourmaline blinked. “Only hot? That isn’t correct?”

“Not fully.” I grinned. “Come on, you’re quite close!”

“Another God?”

“Nope!”

“You’re not a soul, but something else?”

“Colder!”

“This is ridiculous, just tell me.” Tourmaline huffed. “I am running out of time to spend and would prefer not to waste it on such frivoloties.”

I tsked. “Well, that’s no fun. If you must know, I am a soul that Barck put into this body after Peter Samson… died… but I’m also from another world entirely.”

Tourmaline slanted her head to the side and examined me. “Another world? That explains a lot...”

“Ouch! Does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“It does. Thank you.”

I poured us a fresh round of beers and she took hers in silence. “Did you have any questions?”

Tourmaline took a long drink before answering. “... do you know much about poisons? Or did your world have any knowledge that could help me? Anything you couldn’t share before?”

My smile turned into a frown. Tourmaline’s mother had been poisoned a while back, and was on magical life support as the insidious toxin tried to kill her. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know much about poisons at all. Did you find what you were looking for?”

Tourmaline gave a very uncharacteristic curse. “Midna’s Mangy Mullet, I did! I even made a cure, but taking it will kill her. She’s too weak. I had hoped… but I should know not to hope. I just need to work harder.”

I bit my lip as I considered Tourmaline. Her family had been instrumental in getting us off, and we still needed her to get us a shot at the Herder Treasure. “When you say the cure would kill her, is that a guarantee? Like, if she took the poison, she’d be fated to die? But she’d be healed if she survived?”

Tourmaline gave me a curious look. “That is an odd way to put it, but yes… I’ve been asking around about highly Specialized [Healers] to see if they have anything that might help.”

I took a deep breath and came to a decision. I’d just gotten it, and I’d wanted to save it for myself, but this seemed a worthy use. “I don’t know much about poison, but I do have something that might be able to help. How about you take me to your mother, and we’ll talk about it on the way.”

Tourmaline stared at me in shock, and as I explained, her shock turned into purposeful steps as she dragged me behind her.

It was my only Karmic Reversal, but… it would be worth it!