“What do you mean, not allowed?” Windmane asked, clutching the edge of the flying carpet. “I need it!”

The human whose name she’d already forgotten sighed deeply and explained it to her, with the same tone he’d used on the children earlier when they had wanted a dessert that the kitchen didn’t hold.

“Vehicles that fly or hover are regulated,” he said. “You’re lucky no one’s stopped you for a permit yet. But beside that, it’s too big to fit into the aisles at the stadium. They will absolutely stop you at the door.”

Windmane couldn’t argue her way past the man’s certainty, which was backed up by more than one other passing human. But he had another idea.

“There are non-magical things that can help you,” the man said. “We should have just enough time to get our hands on one today. The shops will all be closed tomorrow morning.”

“What kind of things?” Windmane asked with suspicion.

“Wheelchairs, walkers, crutches, canes. It depends on how much help you need, really. Can you show me how far you get on two feet?”

She very much didn’t want to. But she did. The children of course chose that time to scamper through the room and stop to see the show, which didn’t help. Windmane scooted to the edge of the carpet and dangled her awkward human legs over, then eased her weight onto her feet.

Even holding onto the carpet, she wobbled like a foal. The children gave her conflicting advice, which didn’t help.

“Straighten your legs more!”

“No, keep them bent!”

“Now put one foot forward more!”

“You’ve got to lean!”

The man watched for a bit, then told her to sit back down. “Let me see what I can find. A wheelchair would be easier for you, though there still aren’t ramps everywhere there should be. You might be able to handle a walker with some practice.”

“How much practice?” Windmane asked as she directed the carpet lower so she could collapse onto it. She’d gotten good at the mental commands, and hated to give it up.

The man smiled with forced optimism. “You’ve got the rest of today!”

“Right. Lucky me, with nothing better to do.”

“I’ll see if somebody’s free to swing by the store now. It’s on the other side of town. I hope it’s open. Kids, why don’t you tell our guest here about how you learned to ride bikes and skates?” He made his escape as the kids all started talking at once.

Windmane sat and listened. She really didn’t have anything else to do. She’d already given her account to the person taking notes, she was no help with the magic that Twig was doing, and she’d opted to stay when Stomp and Beak went with the humans to check for unicorns at the hotel. She felt a bit guilty about not going, but there wasn’t much she could contribute aside from carpet rides, which were, as noted, against the rules.

Nope, better to stay here in case the unicorns returned for them, or the dragons showed up somehow, or Twig caused some catastrophe. But none of those had happened. So she listened while the kids told her stories until a different adult returned with a “walker” that had apparently been in storage.

“I don’t know about this,” Windmane said as she eyed the rickety-looking metal frame.

“Just try it,” the new human said. He demonstrated how it worked. “You can put most of your weight on your hands if you need to.”

Windmane tried. She didn’t fall, though it was an awful lot of pressure on her wrists. But the human was encouraging and so were the children, so she gritted her teeth and slid one foot forward at a time.

“Yeah, looking good!” the human said. “Keep it up and you’ll be walking circles around the rest of us in no time!”

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“I doubt that,” Windmane grunted. Maybe I could just stay here tomorrow, she thought. Maybe that would be better. But no. She’d just be fretting about whether the evil wizards won the contest, alone and useless in a stranger’s house, hoping that the good humans would win instead. The least she could do was go along with the others, in whatever awkward fashion she could manage. With a minimum of complaining.

* * * * *

“My hands hurt,” Windmane complained to Twig as she made herself comfortable in the seat she’d just fallen into. Twig was far too interested in the fancy decorations of the viewing room to pay her any mind. Not that she could blame him.

Even preoccupied with her difficulties in walking, the route from carriage to stadium had been an eyecatching one. Everything was all ornate structures and magical embellishments: colors, lights, illusory creatures floating through the air. It was enough to make her want to stare upward constantly, though she needed to watch the path instead. There was magical color there too, of course. This kind directed the vast crowd of viewers toward various entrances.

The family of humans who had been playing host turned out to rate their own private area to watch the show. Possibly the room was granted to relatives of the contestants. Either way, there was enough space left in the three rows of seats for Windmane, her walker, and her friends.

Stomp and Beak had been visibly frustrated when they’d returned from the hotel with no sign of the unicorns, but they were more upbeat now. The humans’ optimism about their team’s odds was catching. Windmane tried to cling to that hope as she looked out at the enormous stadium. This was a whole nation’s worth of top-tier magicians. Or politicians, who were also magicians. Windmane was a little fuzzy on the details.

Luckily for her, the bushy-haired human woman seated in front of her decided to explain everything to the guests.

Luckily.

“So it’s every ten years that the leadership changes hands,” she said. “The whole idea behind this contest was supposed to make it more fair, though things have obviously turned into a popular-kids-club with the elite mages.” She leaned in and whispered loudly, “And that’s what we’re hoping to change!” She sat back. “Anyway, the contest has several parts, and the last one is always a secret, decided on by the previous leadership. This decade it’s been Monarch Pinetal all by himself, which is rare, honestly. I think all the frontrunners now are groups, or at least pairs. Oh, hear that? The procession’s about to start. I’ll point ‘em out to you as they come. We’ve got a great view from here; see that little area right by the gate? That’s where each team will wait while the last one finishes. Oh hey, here they come!”

As promised, the human kept up a running commentary while her comrades booed and cheered and talked amongst themselves. Windmane did her best to pay attention at first, but the information quickly turned into a wash of white noise to be punctuated by polite sounds.

“There will be a time to show off special talents, and the battle of constructs, and the multitasking challenge, and the leadership/cooperation demo…”

“Mm, wow.”

It was all very elaborate and impressive: opening ceremonies and early rounds and all. But Windmane only started really paying attention when a new group moved into the waiting area.

“That’s them!” Stomp exclaimed, pointing past Beak.

Windmane and Twig followed her arm while the humans around them booed heartily. The five people in magician’s robes did look like the ones who had stolen Razorscale and Silver, not to mention Windmane’s own shape.

Beak hissed. “It kills me that we can’t do anything to them. They’re right there.”

Stomp agreed. “This would be a perfect time to break the spell. Or maybe in a minute, when they’re showing off their special trick.” She squeezed an armrest with both hands, and Windmane thought she heard it crack.

Twig was being uncharacteristically silent. Windmane gave him a look and found the pixie gazing at the wizards with an expression like he was thinking hard.

She looked away, only to be surprised when a blue light flared beside her.

Mage lines.

“What are you doing?” Windmane demanded.

Twig answered with a question of his own. “What’s the Seamless Tower?”

“What? I don’t know.” Windmane realized that she had a fair idea who would. She tapped the shoulder of the woman in front of her. “Hey, what’s the Seamless Tower?”

“A vault where some of the elite keep their valuables, why?”

Twig was staring off into space blankly. “It’s where Razorscale and Silver are.”

“WHAT?” chorused Windmane, Beak, and Stomp.

His expression didn’t change. “They almost escaped from somewhere else. The mages are complaining about how much magic power they had to waste on healing each other, and on knocking them unconscious again.”

“How do you know that?” Windmane asked.

Twig blinked, lost the glow, and turned a brilliant smile on her. “The kids taught me an eavesdropping spell.”

While the nearest humans asked, “They what?” Windmane and the others demanded details. Twig activated the spell again to listen further, but the magicians were talking about something else now.

Stomp stood up. “We have to go break them out. Right now, before the contest is over.”

Beak was right beside her. “How do we do it, though?” She looked around at the various humans. “Can any of you get in?”

“It’s designed to be impassable to anyone who doesn’t have the spell key,” said the talkative human. “We don’t even know where the door is. It’s all a secret.”

“Can we break it?” Stomp asked.

“It’s enchanted stone. Even a cart ramming it wouldn’t make a crack.”

Windmane had a brilliant idea. She scrambled for the walker and got to her feet. “We know some experts on enchanted stone! I bet a medusa can get in!”