Chapter 16 The Fox and the Hare
The Fox and the Hare
Barnaby&Vixen
Sicilian sand got into the worst places. It was something I’d learned the hard way since I’d moved there, decades ago, but it never got easier to handle.
The moment I stumbled out of the portal, I felt it.
All the sand still clinging to my fur. Especially in my tail.
I twisted around to get at the base where the fur was thickest and shook more gritty particles loose.
I was only at the beach for an hour yesterday, and somehow it had infiltrated everything.
It was so undignified to do this at the edge of King Oberon’s meadow, but what option did I have?
“Still finding souvenirs from your rest day?”
I spun around and nearly tripped over my own feet. Santa stood there in his full red suit, exactly as he always did—round and jolly and somehow both grandfatherly and ageless at the same time. The white fur trim on his coat was pristine, unlike my sand-covered fur.
“I thought I got it all.” I brushed at my chest self-consciously. “But it keeps appearing.”
Santa’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Sand is persistent. Rather like determination, actually. Which brings me to why I wanted to catch you before everything begins.” He gestured for me to walk with him, away from the portal entrance.
We moved toward the meadow, and, wow, it was even more amazing up close.
The grass was so green it almost hurt to look at, and there were flowers everywhere in colors I’d never seen before.
Some of them were humming little tunes, and a whole patch of daisies off to the left was giggling at something.
Santa stopped walking and faced me fully, both hands resting on his round belly. “Technically, I’m here as an impartial observer. But I have to say, Barnaby… You’ve never looked better.”
A part of me had known that already. Gods, even Grix had complimented me on the state of my fur. Before all the sand, at least. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to have extra encouragement. “Do you really think so?”
“Of course.” He reached out and adjusted the collar of my shirt where it had gotten twisted during my portal arrival.
“I’ve known you for centuries, and I haven’t seen you move with this kind of energy since you first took the Title.
Whatever Brok’s been doing with your training, it’s working. You look ready.”
“I feel ready.” I bounced slightly on my toes, testing my legs. They felt strong and responsive. “For the first time in years, I actually feel like I can do this.”
Santa pulled a small wrapped candy from his coat pocket and unwrapped it.
“Mrs. Claus said the same thing last night. She made me promise to tell you she’s rooting for you, even though she’s technically not supposed to play favorites either.
But you know how she is about the beings she’s taken under her wing. ”
I thought about Mrs. Claus and her warm kitchen. I remembered the way she’d always had sweets ready when I’d shown up at the North Pole feeling overwhelmed. Her cooking wasn’t quite as good as Hazel’s, but it was a close second. “She’s been really kind to me.”
Santa popped the candy in his mouth. “She has a gift for knowing who needs kindness most. Now, you should get to your preparation area. They’ll have everything set up for you there.”
“Where is it?”
He pointed toward a cluster of colorful tents at the far end of the meadow. “The green one with the gold trim. Can’t miss it.”
I started to thank him, but he held up one gloved hand. “Save your thanks for after you win. And Barnaby?” He waited until I met his eyes. “Trust your instincts today. You’ve prepared well, but the Title responds to more than just training. It responds to heart.”
He walked away toward where a platform was being set up, leaving me standing in the meadow on my own. Trust my instincts. I could do that. But a part of me still fluttered with nerves.
I headed toward the tents, weaving between supernatural beings who were finding their spots in the growing crowd.
Fae in elaborate spring colors, nature spirits that looked like walking trees, water nymphs that left damp footprints on the grass.
Everyone was here to watch. They moved aside for me, watching me with a mix of enthusiasm and fascination.
The green tent was easy to spot, just like Santa had said. The flap was tied open, and when I stepped inside, I found three leprechauns arranging things on a small table.
They all turned simultaneously when I entered. The first one clapped his hands together. “Ah! The Osterhase! Right on time, you are. We’ve got your space all set up, nice and proper.”
I scanned the tent. There was a bench for sitting, a table with water bottles and what looked like energy supplements, and several pots that had very obviously held gold coins at some point.
Now they held elaborate arrangements of actual golden eggs—real gold, gleaming and heavy-looking—nestled in green moss.
The second leprechaun gestured proudly to the decorated pots. “We wanted you to feel at home. Gold eggs for the Easter celebration, yeah? Seemed fitting.”
It really wasn’t. Easter eggs were supposed to be edible, not metallic. But I supposed leprechauns couldn’t understand that.
“Barnaby!”
I spun around to find Grix squeezing through the tent entrance, his tablet clutched to his chest. He took one look at the decorated pots, and his face went completely blank. “Well. They certainly tried. No one can say leprechauns are known for their taste.”
The third leprechaun’s face flushed red. “Oi! We worked hard on those arrangements!”
Grix tapped something on his tablet screen and shrugged. “Hard work and good taste are not always correlated.”
I moved quickly to intervene before the leprechauns could get more offended. “They’re beautiful. Really festive. Thank you so much for setting this up.”
The leprechauns looked mollified, and the first one patted my shoulder. “You’re a good lad. We’ll be cheering for you out there.”
They filed out of the tent, still muttering to each other in Gaelic. I was left alone with Grix and the aggressively decorated gold pots.
Grix pulled a familiar white bakery box from his bag. “Here. Hazel sent these. She couldn’t be here because she’s human, but she wanted you to have them.”
I took the box and opened it carefully, selecting a chocolate. Was that blood orange I smelled? Hazel was a goddess. With this under my belt, there was no way I could lose. “Where’s Brok? Is he here somewhere?”
Grix adjusted his glasses while continuing to scroll through his tablet. “He decided to keep his distance. Presumably so it doesn’t look like you need a trainer holding your hand for the competition.”
That made sense. I’d been working so hard to prove I could do this on my own. Having Brok hovering would undermine that. But it still would have been nice to see him before everything started.
I bit into the chocolate, and, oh wow, there it was. Pure joy flooding through me, spreading from my tongue down through my chest and into my limbs. Hazel understood joy better than almost anyone. She could put it right into food and make you taste it.
Grix cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. I ate another chocolate but tried to listen to him anyway. “So… any news?”
Grix sighed but didn’t chastise me for my decision to feast. “The challenge will start soon. King Oberon will make opening remarks, announce the competitors, and explain the structure. Then you’ll begin.”
Opening remarks. Announcements. Structure. This was really happening. “I see. Thank you for keeping me posted, Grix.”
“Don’t thank me. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
It sounded like a warning, the kind of thing a kobold would say when they wanted to be helpful. My fur suddenly stood on end.
I stepped outside the tent and immediately saw movement near the meadow’s far entrance. It was Reynard. Or rather, Vixen. The Osterfuchs had decided to use their female form again.
Today, they had chosen a cute pink and black jogging ensemble.
They were wearing so many studs that my own ears twitched in sympathy.
Their tail was perfectly groomed, and their claws were adorned with bright blue crystals.
Isengrim lurked by their side, once more wearing one of his expensive suits.
Grix had followed me out of the tent and now stood beside me. “Your competitor has arrived. The Osterfuchs looks confident.”
“They look like they already know they’ve won.” The anxiety crept into my throat despite the chocolate joy still humming in my system. I grabbed another piece quickly.
Grix hummed under his breath, then took a chocolate for himself. “Confidence isn’t the same as competence. And overconfidence can be a weakness. The Osterfuchs assumes they deserve this Title back based on history alone. You’ve actually been doing the work.”
That helped a little. It was true. I had been working hard. Training with Brok, improving my speed, getting my joy back. I wasn’t the same exhausted rabbit who’d been struggling six months ago.
Vixen and Isengrim disappeared into their own preparation tent on the opposite side of the meadow. It was right next to the platform where King Oberon’s throne had been set up. Of course it was.
But it didn’t matter. I’d come too far to let Vixen beat me now. “I can do this, Grix. I can’t fail. Not after everything Brok and Hazel did for me.”
Grix didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. I already had all the answers I needed in the chocolates my human friend had sent me.
I was the Easter Bunny, and today, I’d get my Title back.
The burgundy tent smelled like spring roses and expensive perfume, which was exactly how I preferred my preparation spaces.
I sat on the cushioned bench while three faeries fluttered around my tail, combing through the luxurious fur with tiny silver brushes.
Their wings made soft humming sounds as they worked.