Tad once again entered Jared's Wonderous Weaponry. Jared's attention was seized by two younger men milling over by the short sword selection. One of them was balancing a blade on their hand at the pommel. He was trying to determine the center of balance of a blade. Although Beothorn had taught Tad to be proficient with an ax and shield, he also taught Tad the basics of almost every weapon known to Beothorn. Beothorn would say, "You need to understand a weapon to know how to block it and defeat it. Tad knew enough to know that the weapon the man was testing was a low-quality short sword, the kind of sword where the phrase, you get what you pay for, applied. Tad waved to Jared and waited for him at his workbench until he was done talking with his customers.

"Have you made a choice then, young Sir? Is it going to be the morning star mace?" said Jared, always the polite merchant. He had left the two men to continue to browse.

Most merchants in the carnival used the same replies and selling techniques. It was a skill like most things, and Samphire demanded that the Merchants were polite as long as the customer was in turn.

"I think I have made my choice, but it is not going to be the mace." Tad continued with the ah he was still feeling from Kimbriel's demonstration permeating through his words, "Kimbriel just showed me some extraordinary weapons. She suggested I should ask you for a flex staff."

Jared's eyes grew wider as his eyebrows rose, then narrowed on Tad, and for a moment, Tad thought the older man did not believe him. "She did?"

Tad swallowed hard, thinking of a plan on how to convince him of the truth.

"Well, of course, she did, or you would not have put those two words together: flex staff. You simply would have asked for a stave. Give me one minute." Jared handed Tad a sign which read, 'Lunch break.' "Hang this on the front of the tent, and let me hurry these gentlemen up."

Tad took the sign outside and hung it on the small hook above the tent entrance. Tad waited as Jared hurried to get the sale and gave an un-asked-for discount to make it happen quickly. He escorted the two men out of the tent and tied the flaps of the opening behind them.

"A flex staff!" Jared's own excitement was palpable. "Just so you know, before I show you these weapons, you are not to talk about them with anyone. They are special orders. I only keep them in stock for Kimbriel and her troupe. If she didn't tell you, that is fine. I am telling you. Keep your yap shut." His tone had turned insistent. "Now, let's take a look." He scanned the tent one last time and then turned around to the display case behind his workbench. It had several quality long swords, halberds, and a couple of spears in it. He pulled a long brass key out of his pocket, then leaned over and stuck it in a hidden hole just below the display window. There was a slight popping sound, and Jared grabbed the right side of the case and swung the whole case open, revealing a hidden doorway. Stepping into the entrance, he waved Tad to follow him. Tad looked at it a second and realized this might be the most potent shrink spell he had seen anywhere. He followed Jared through the entrance. The inside of the display was more extensive than his family's wagon; there was row upon row of different types of weapons. Some glowed, and others drank in the light. Tad had never seen something like these weapons. The thought of their rarity and splendor held his mind in a trance until the clang of Jared closing the door behind him echoed through the chamber and roused Tad from his amazement.

"Welcome to Jared's Real Wondrous Weaponry," Jared said while spinning around. He gave a nonchalant wave to the weapons racks, then gave Tad a low bow. Jared had a lot of flair, which always made Tad smile.

"This is well, well.. amazing, Jared." Tad continued to gawk at the many weapons filling the racks.

Jared gave Tad a slight nod of his head. "I am quite proud of my collection. Many of these come from the great Bazaar or even farther."

Tad realized now why so many royal visitors were always coming to visit Jared's tent. Even though Tad was staring right at them, it was hard to imagine there was such a wide variety of unimaginable weapons in existence.

"Jared, why didn't you tell me about these earlier?" asked Tad. The vibration of his voice across the chamber told him he was being a bit too loud.

"Well, Sir, Beothorn asked me to show you whatever you asked for, and you had yet to ask for anything I keep in here. I make it a habit not to share the knowledge of my stock with just anyone. Discerning clients only. I will make an exception for you only because of Beothorn. He is, after all, the head of security. I wouldn't want to be on his bad side. It would be very hard to sell my goods to my more discerning clients if he was unaware of my particular offerings. However, now that you have asked to see something, I am free to show you. You did say a flexible staff, correct?" His last statement contained the chipper lilt Jared was known for. "Follow me, please.

Tad followed him back several racks and turned to the right. There must have been fifty staves of every type and color he could think of. One even looked like the wood was on fire, with bits of red running up and down the shaft. Tad stopped to look at that one for a moment.

"I would not suggest that one unless you are wearing smith's gloves. It will burn your hands before you ever have the chance to wield it. It is a staff of salamanders. Only an expert in the ways of the fire staff could wield such a weapon. You would need to travel several gates and weeks after that to find anyone that could show you that skill," said Jared.

"Here we are," he moved one more rack over. "I have a few staves that would qualify as flexible. Unfortunately, unless you have suddenly come into a large quantity of gold, this one," he picked a plain, unassuming wooden staff from the stand, "is probably the one for you. It is thirteen gold and three silver," Jared said with an outstretched hand.

Tad gasped so unexpectedly that it caused him to choke. He had to cough a few times to recover. "I don't have that kind of gold. That is a year's wages." Tad was starting to sound indignant, and he knew it. He did not want to offend Jared. He tried to calm his elevated voice. "I only have four gold saved up." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly in defeat. "I'm sorry, Jared, there is no way I can come up with that kind of gold." Tad took another deep breath. "To be honest, I'm still not certain I will pick this weapon yet. Kimbriel suggested I train with it for a few weeks before I decide."

"Kind Sir, I am never one to pass up a chance to make a sale. As a personal favor to you and Beothorn. I will loan it to you for three weeks. You can test it and bring it back if you decide not to buy it."

Tad's face lifted immediately. "Really? That is great!" Excitedly, he reached for the staff.

Jared put his hand up to stop him, "Tad, I trust you, but I will still need those four gold as a good faith deposit. I'll give it back when you return the stave if you decide you do not want to buy it."

Jared was being more than fair with him, but Tad was still not sure what to do. If he took the stave and returned it, he was out nothing, but if he took it and loved it, he was still in a predicament he had started with, short a whole lot of gold. Ultimately he decided it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. "That is fine. Can you hold it until tomorrow? I'll be here to pay you and pick it up at lunch."

"Certainly, Tad. I'll put a leather carry strap on it for you as well. That way, you can just sling it over your shoulder or your back. Let's go out now if you please." Jared motioned his hand towards the entrance.

As Jared was locking the cabinet back up, he looked Tad straight in the eye. Tad did not need to use his powers to feel the gravity of Jared's next words. "I meant what I said about not discussing the private stock with anyone. Obviously, Beothorn and Kimbriel know but do not breathe a word to anyone else. I have a very selective clientele. I find that secrecy leads to better security and wealthier customers."

He untied the flaps at the tent's entrance and propped the back open ready for business. Jared gave a head nod as Tad thanked him before Tad took off like lightning, anxious to find Beothorn and tell him everything.

***

Monkeys

After breakfast, Tad retrieved his cart, remembering the extra apples this time, and headed to the monkey wagon first. He listened at the door before opening it as he had been doing. Then walked in when all seemed quiet, the monkeys were asleep in their pen, as expected. Tad unlocked the other side, grabbed his shovel, and set to clearing out the straw. Shock paralyzed him for a split second when something hit him in the face. Something hit him in the shoulder and then immediately in the stomach. He looked down. He had felt the plop, but now it was confirmed. Yes, it was monkey poop dripping down his shirt. More balls of poo came flying at him. Tad tried to dodge the onslaught of projectiles, but they seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. He swiveled to dart for the door just as a large, particularly juicy poo ball met with the side of his face. He stumped out the cage door and slammed it behind him. He glared at the monkeys only to find them asleep. Tad reached out his senses and could feel them wide awake and angry. Confused, Tad considered the situation for a moment. "The apples!" Tad proclaimed out loud. "You're mad about the apples." I know I promised you extra apples yesterday, but I did bring them today. No need to be aggressive." Tad looked down at himself again, then added, "or gross." He took his shirt off, wiped his face with a clean side, balled it up, and threw it in the wagon. "My gosh, what did you eat, a dead rat or something that truly stinks?" Tad grabbed the bucket of apples and potatoes and, without taking his eye off the monkeys, slowly entered back into the pen to empty the bucket. He finished cleaning and giving them water as quickly as possible. Then he opened the gate between the pen and the showing area. The male monkey yawned and closed his eyes, and they were not moving.

"Look, I'm sorry about the apples, but I brought them today." The monkeys still did not move. With a huff, Tad added in an exasperated tone, "Fine, I will bring you extra apples again tomorrow."The monkeys still didn't move. Tad could sense his own frustration rising to equal that of the monkeys. Tad took a couple of deep breaths and, in a calmer tone, offered, "I will get you extra apples for the rest of the week if you just move over now."

The male monkey opened one eye but did not make a move. "Oh, that got your attention, did it? Am I going to have to bribe you to move to the other side every time? And a week's worth of extra apples isn't enough?" Tad stomped his foot but had little effect on the monkey's movement or mood. "I can not get months of apples for you. It won't happen. You are going to have to take it or leave it!" The monkeys did not move. Tad was back at square one. After some consideration, he offered, "Perhaps there is another treat I can get you. How about some oranges? I know the camp has a few crates of those left. I'll give you three oranges tomorrow if you move to the showing area." The monkeys did not move. "Seriously, those are hard to get right now!" Tad huffed again, but this time the left female opened an eye. Tad could sense her interest peaked.

"So we have one taker on an orange, and we obviously have some interest in extra apples." The male moved his back away from Tad. "Ok then, we are making progress." Tad turned to look directly at the remaining female. "Now, what can I get the last lady?"

"Plums?" No response.

"Raisins?" Nothing.

"Prunes?"

"Elderberry?"

"Rhubarb?" And with that, the three monkeys stood and moved over to the other side. "Ok, well, tomorrow I'll bring an extra apple, orange, and some Rhubarb." Tad closed the gate between the two pens. At that moment, Tad realized monkeys were definitely smarter than ponies.

The rough pungent camp soap was not very effective in removing the smell. He really hated monkeys right now. He gave up washing in lieu of some new clothes. Tad hoped that if he changed, perhaps some of the smell would disappear. Marena was outside the wagon writing something at the bench table the family used for outside eating. Tad walked past her without a word. He had one foot on the step when he heard behind him, "ho there, what happened to you?"

Tad relayed the ordinal to Marena only to get a chuckle for sympathy. Knowing he would receive no more compassion, he moved to the door once more. "I'm going to go change my clothes

"Changing your clothes is just going to make another set of clothes stink," said Marena.

Tad sounded stressed, "What do you think I should do then? It's making my eyes water, and I am not going to walk around smelling like this!"

"It should wear off in a few days," Marean teased.

Tad boiled thinking about monkeys.

"Well, to start with, those monkeys have a reputation. Why do you think they are constantly getting new attendants for those wagons and giving such a nice raise for less work?" asked Marena.

"And secondly, it's magic that is causing the continued odor."

Tad's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Did Ralph not explain about the monkeys?" she inquired.

"I guess not," said Tad, getting a more serious look in his eye. He knew he couldn't quit because he still needed Jack to show him how to block his broadcast.

"Perhaps I can cover it up with a lot of perfume or something," said Tad.

"No, I do not think there is enough perfume in the whole camp to make this better. You will probably need to live with it until it fades. It is not physically dangerous to you, just annoying." She looked at him curiously, "Why did they attack you anyway? Tad admitted the oversight on the extra apples. "I'll see if Beothorn can set you up with a spare tent for this week. There is no way you are going into the wagon smelling like that," she stated adamantly. "Go finish your work," Marena suggested. Tad put his poop-stained shirt back on and left to finish his work at Jack's wagon.

Tad was halfway up the ramp when Jack greeted him through the door, "Hey Kid! How was," he paused. He had a distinct tone change. "You are not coming in here smelling like that! You stay out there," he stated.

Tad replied, "How did you know? I'm still broadcasting, aren't I?"

"Yea, you are. Half the plane can hear you when you get excited. Well, not half of it because not everyone has the power to hear you, and there is a magic field around the carnival to prevent that, but if they could, they certainly would. But not only that, I can smell you a mile away." said Jack.

"What?" said Tad in surprise. "I've not heard of a magic field around the camp."

"You haven't heard about the monkeys either, apparently." Jack came closer to the door. "Now, before I come out, do you want to make another deal? I can remove that smell if you want," projected Jack from the doorway.

"I have a deal with the monkeys and Jared, so why not." Tad was a mixture of hope and exasperation, all tangled up trying to break free from each other. It was an odd feeling that left him feeling a bit defeated. "How much is this going to cost me?"

"Well, it is going to cost you, but just not today. Let's make a deal. At the end of every week, you and I play a game of chess. If I win, you owe me a half bucket more of dregs. If you win, the bet is over, and you do not have to get me any more extra ale or dregs. Either way, I will get rid of the smell if I can have your agreement. It is a win, win if you ask me. Besides that, you really do smell terrible. If I have to smell you much longer, my eyes are going to tear up. There might be a riot if those girls see it. They will all screech, 'look, he is crying, ahhh, that is so sad. Let's save him.' for me.'" Tad chuckled, hearing Jack try to project in a young girl's voice.

"I do know how to play chess," said Tad thinking this might be simple. How hard could it beat an equine at chess?

"Good, "said Jack, "more opportunity for me to win."

"You will play some mind trick on me and know my moves," asked Tad thinking better of the chess idea.

"No, I will not read your mind. Besides. I don't have to, the way you're broadcasting everything." Jack was now trying to imitate Tad's voice. "If he moves E5, I will move N16." He neighed a chuckle.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Tad said dryly.

"I'm going to fix that broadcasting before you leave also," said Jack.

With a sigh, "I'm kind of trapped in this, aren't I? " asked Tad. "Fine, let's do it. I have to meet my new instructor after lunch, and I seriously think he will quit if I show up smelling like this."

"Great kid. Let's start with the broadcast problem," said Jack. Tad was pleasantly surprised as Jack continued, "I'm going to send you an image of a bubble. I want you to study that bubble several times throughout the day and try to feel it. Work up to doing it for an hour a day. You should be able to stop the broadcasting by next week. Now for the smell," Jack tsked. "This is going to be some epic magic stuff. Pay attention now, and don't forget you owe me for this one."

Tad responded, "Yea."

Jack sent a feeling of seriousness to Tad which got his attention. "To get rid of a magical smell smells, you need to counter it with another smell that contains magic. Do you know the mastodon trainer?" asked Jack.

Tad did not. In fact, he had always been a bit afraid of the mastodons and avoided them for the most part. He thought about how their large round feet could crush him like a grape. Tad almost missed the instructions as he thought about the creatures. Jack explained, "the mastodons are from an ice-orientated plane, and the monkeys are from a fire-orientated plane. They will smother each other out, and you will stop stinking. Law magic and Chaos magic cancellation apply, opposites if you will."

"How exactly am I supposed to smother it out?" asked Tad getting a sinking feeling.

"It is a one-for-one, Tad," said Jack. "Do I need to spell it out for you? You need to go rub mastodon poo all over the spots that smell."

Tad was shocked, almost yelling, "Seriously, that is your big magic? You want me to put more poop on myself?" Jack, there is no way!"

Jack chuckled, "I guess you can always wait a week or so for the smell spell to wear off."

Tad signed in concession and lowered his head in defeat.

"I am sad I'm going to miss it," said Jack with a laugh. "But it should work. Trust me."

"I am having a really hard time trusting you, Jack, really hard!" Tad unapologetically said.

Tad huffed, getting an angry frown, "If I catch some strange disease, I'm never going to bring you dregs again. It will be water from now on with lemon in it!" Tad was sure down the road this was going to be a funny story to tell around a campfire, but at the moment, he was not finding the humor. No, skip that. It is not going to be a funny story. Freaking magic monkeys!

Tad slowly made his way to the mastodon pens. He wanted to smell better, but he had to talk himself into being in their presence. It did not help that he was also trying to avoid any interaction with the other carnies. They had a habit of giving people nicknames, and this was one he didn't want. Upon arriving at the mastodon pens, Tad looked around for the trainer.

These large animals were not usually moved, so their pen was also where visitors viewed them. Tad could not locate the attendant or trainer. He formulated what he believed to be a reasonable plan: enter the pen, scoop, slather, and scoot. Once he was out of their pen, he would dart like mad to the nearest bath house. He was struggling to even think about it. He stood there going over the plan in his head: scoop, slather, and scoot. Perhaps if he said it enough times, it would produce enough courage. Scoop, slather, and scoot. Jack had better not be pulling his leg, Tad thought. Scoop, slather, and scoot. Tad looked about. Nobody was near the pen at that moment. He closed his eyes and told himself one more time: scoop, slather, and scoot, then dashed over the waist-high fence to the back of the mastodon pen like a warrior running into battle. Tad tried to remain calm with the animals standing mere feet away. If he had been honest with himself, he would have had to admit the mastodons were not paying him any attention. He reached down and grabbed a handful of poop from the voluminous pile they had left. He felt sorry for the attendant who had to clean up these miniature mountains of poop. Wasting no time, Tad smeared the poop across his shoulder, stomach, back, and even the side of his face making sure he missed nothing. "Jack better not be messing with me," Tad said to himself. "I have really hit rock bottom. This stuff smells as bad as the monkey's." He was about to finish his thought when he was interrupted.

"Ahem," said a deep voice off to his side.

Tad panicked, "I know what this looks like. I swear I am not weird or anything." Tad continued to stammer. "I am trying to cure a problem!"

The man just stared hard at him with a straight face for what seemed like a lifetime before a smile seized his face, and he bent in half, hand on his knees, laughing.

"I know, I know, but I always get a kick out of watching you fellas scrub down like that." He slapped his knee, still laughing. "It has me laughing for days."

Tad was busy wiping the mastodon poop out of one of his eyes to give the bearded man a good look initially, but now they were face to face. The man was dressed as the indigenous people of the mastodon home, dark leather pants with a matching leather vest half hidden under a fur cape that hung off one shoulder. A blue and red beaded necklace wrapped itself around the man's thick neck. There was no doubt in Tad's mind that he was the trainer.

"Did Jack put you up to this?" asked the trainer.

Tad started to feel duped. "Ummm... yes. He said this was the only way to counter the smell of the monkeys' poop," Tad wiped some off his face.

"Did he mention that you only need to not get it on any areas that were covered in monkey smell? Or you will have the reverse problem and have to go get more monkey poo?" asked the trainer trying not to laugh so hard that he was struggling to breath.

'Jack!!' This time, Tad was decidedly trying to broadcast. "This whole joke is getting out of control." Tad realized he hadn't hit bottom before; he was nose-diving into a bottomless pit of unhappiness.

Tad examined himself thoroughly. "I do not think I got it on any of my clothes that were not already stained."

"Well, right now, you do not smell as bad as most of the others, so you might want to be careful and not add too much more." The trainer shifted his weight before adding, "And one more thing. I can be bribed for four coppers not to tell anyone I saw this. We can call it an avoidance payment." His grin only intensified as Tad's eyes rolled.

"How about I give you six coppers, which I know for a fact is three ales tonight over at Hans' in exchange for a bucket of water and a clean rag to wipe this off."

"Add two more, and I'll throw in the oil to remove the mastodon smell."

They struck a deal. Tad finished cleaning off all the smells and poop and then headed back to Jack's wagon to get his cart and finish his job. When he arrived, Marena had brought him a change of clothes and left it stacked neatly on his cart.

He entered the big tent clean with his new rented stave and carry strap.

"You are late," said Magyar. "Early is on time, on time is late, and late is never acceptable."

***

Forty-two Forms of Magyar

"Sorry." said Tad, "I have had my fair share of problems this morning."

"No excuses. Let us proceed." Magyar was a medium-sized man with black hair and dark eyes. He wore the traditional outfit of his people, a long white tunic and flowing tan pants. He moved to the middle of the empty ring, "Usually, what I'm about to show you is a guarded secret. My wife has convinced me that I should teach you. I do not have to do what my wife tells me, but I also like sleeping in my bed and not under the wagon. However, I will quickly change my mind if I feel you are not worthy of the task."

He continued, "In my country, these forms and this technique are only taught to the ablest students. Those students spend years training just to get a test to be considered as a student. I am not going to GIVE it away. I will not disgrace my elders like this or my instructors."

After that speech, Tad was both honored and flattered that Magyar would even meet him. He vowed to himself right then and there that he would do whatever it took to be worthy.

Magyar continued, "what I am going to do is train you in forty-two forms. You have three hours of my time. At the end of those three hours, you and I will leave. Tomorrow exactly on time, unlike today, you will come back and show me each of the forms in order. If you fail at this, then we are done. I will tell my wife you tried and failed, and she will not make me sleep under the wagon. Do you understand?" Magyar stared hard into Tad's eyes.

Tad pumped himself up with a thoughtful reminder that he could do this. A little doubt started to creep in, well, at least I will try as hard as I can, he thought. It had been a hard day. He had not run around the carnival to make deals with money he could not afford to lose because he had to pay for the stave rental. Tad was starting to lose focus. "Darn it, Jack, you're still an ass. Yea, I mean that," he projected as loudly as he could. Tad reminded himself to put it behind him for now and focus on the task at hand. He did not want to disappoint Kimbriel, Beothorn, or Magyar, but most importantly, he did not want to disappoint himself.

"Yes Sir, I understand. I am ready to get started, and I will prove to you I can do this tomorrow when I arrive on time." Tad's tone matched the seriousness of Magyar's. He could feel the determination radiating off Magyar, and Tad channeled it to himself. He was determined to show the same intensity if he could not show more. If he was willing to scrub poop all over himself to get here, he wasn't going to quit now.

With that, Magyar nodded and gave the slightest of bows. Magyar methodically spent the next three hours showing Jack the low bent knee stance and the forty-two forms required. One after the other, Magyar would demonstrate, and Tad would replicate, or at least he tried and tried and tried. Each time he got it wrong, Magyar corrected him.

"That was all of them. We are finished," said Magyar.

"That was only forty-one forms," corrected Tad. He sensed a bit of surprise from Magyar. Magyar paused and looked straight at Tad again. He studied him for a moment, "That is correct. Here is the last one," said Magyar. He then did an aerial kick going forward while swinging his stave in a wide arc ending in a scissor kick.

"Whoa" Tad could not hide how impressive that move was to him. How was he going to be able to master that move by tomorrow when he was not even sure what he had just seen. This was all that was running through Tad's mind now.

"That was the Forty-second form of the basic forms. I know you can probably do that, having seen your tumbling practice." He tried to reassure Tad after seeing his efforts for the last three hours only to read the defeat on his face now. "As a student, the final form is the graduation maneuver you must be able to do. As you have already received part of the training, I will give you a fair chance of being able to do it tomorrow. We are done," said Magyar with a bow. He put on his sandals and left silently.

Tad could feel that Magyar hadn't expected him to catch the missing form.

Was that part of the test, or did he want Tad to fail tomorrow? Tad left toward the food wagon. He was starving.

***