The town’s celebration for Pumpkinfest was well underway by the time we arrived. Orange and black decorations adorned the gate as we rode through, and a steady stream of people were walking down the main street towards the center of town. All of them adorned in orange and black clothing or masks.

I’d asked our driver about the festival and its purpose, but the old man simply repeated that it was the pumpkin festival, as if that explained everything. He said very little after that and I was suspicious about just how incurious he was about transporting three Tower Climbers and the owner of the local brewery. But as the ride went on, I began to suspect that he just simply didn’t care.

One thing that did seem important to him was getting to his destination in a timely manner. After clicking his tongue several times over the slow-moving pace of the crowd, he opted to steer the cart down several quieter side streets. I was about to tell him that he could drop us off anywhere when we pulled to a stop beside an empty market stall. I guess he was hoping to sell his pumpkins here during the festivities.

“This is me,” the old man declared.

“Great, thanks for the ride,” I said.

We moved to get out when the man motioned for us to wait. “Hold your horses there. Aren’t you going to help a feeble old man offload his wares?” He looked at each of us in turn pleadingly. He was met with three flat stares, but he sensed weakness when his eyes finally landed on Hugo.

The bird broke immediately. “Maybe we should help?”

“By ‘we’ he means me,” I replied. “But we’re on a deadline. You know Tower Climber stuff. Besides, you look country strong.”

The old man weakly shifted in his seat and grimaced. “I’m eighty-one years old.”

I winced, and even Damian shook his head at me. I threw up my hands. “Fine! Let’s get this over with.”

Helping meant Damian and myself doing all the work while the old man and Hugo supervised. Donald stood off to the side with a blank expression. We were doing what the shard wanted, so we weren’t worried about it running away. Plus, if it wanted to hurt people, it had plenty of chances when we first arrived in town.

Only when we’d finished the job and left the old man behind did the shard speak. “I don’t understand. What is the purpose behind shifting these orange balls of sustenance from one place to another?”

“You’re getting awfully chatty all of a sudden,” I said.

“We are closer to my body's source now. I will get stronger the closer we get.”

Great, I thought to myself. That’s super comforting to hear.

“But what was the purpose?” it repeated.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. An old man and a bird bullied me into it. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The shard didn’t respond, but Donald looked deep in thought.

I glanced back and saw the old man moving a little more sprightly around his stall. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that old man only picked us up so that we’d help him with the pumpkins.”

Hugo, while sitting on my shoulder, tapped my cheek with his wing. “Lucas, just let it go. It’s Pumpkintown.”

“You’re misusing that quote,” I muttered.

From that point forward, Donald led the way. It was out of necessity more than anything else. We’d only been in this town for a few days and didn’t even know where the brewery was. You could say that we were in a rush to move on to another floor, but truthfully, we were tired of these little towns and their problems. The surrounding countryside had better monsters to fight, but even out there, the three of us had quickly discovered that we’d outgrown the place. Now we were doing one last quest before moving on for good.

Just like before, nobody paid much attention to Donald with the black shard sticking out of his eye. We kept checking faces anyway. We knew we weren’t the only Tower Climbers on this floor and that the shard would pique their interest. We’d kept our distance from them thus far and only caught distant glimpses of men and women wearing strange armor and weapons. If they were aware of our presence, they hadn’t shown any sign of it, but like them, we didn’t exactly blend in with the locals. Luckily, the locals were too busy with Pumpkinfest to care about us.

Eventually, Donald led us back to the main street where the crowd was marching. Damian stayed close behind him while Hugo got fed up with all the people and took to the sky. As the street became more congested, we had to weave around people who were becoming irate, and I was falling behind.

“Hey!” one yelled as I accidentally pushed past him.

I apologized and kept moving. Donald was picking up speed, expertly weaving through the crowd, and I was beginning to lose sight of him and Damian. A few more steps and I couldn’t see them at all. Thank God Hugo was flying above to keep track of where they were.

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Hugo: I’ve lost them.

Lucas: What? How?

Hugo: The crowd got too dense. Both of them ducked down at an intersection and then they just disappeared.

I tried not to panic. The shard wants to be reunited with the rest of its body. If it had betrayed us, then Damian would’ve caused a ruckus. It’s more likely that it just got overeager and we accidentally got separated.

Lucas: Okay, new plan. I’ll find out where the brewery is and hopefully we’ll meet them there.

Asking for directions proved simple enough, as people were happy to complain about how the brewery had been shut down for the past few weeks and that the town’s beer supply was running low. Unfortunately for us, it was on the other side of town. That meant more side streets to circumnavigate this annoying crowd.

I took off at a fast walk down the nearest side street when Hugo had noticed something.

Hugo: I think there are some guys following you.

Lucas: What do they look like?

Hugo: Locals dressed for the festival. One of them had a picture of Donald from when he had two eyes. There’s like a whole team of them. Some of them split off and are running down another street. I think they’re hoping to get ahead of you for an ambush.

I enhanced my hearing, listening for the right steps. I was walking briskly, but still at a human pace. For everyone else, it was a party and there was no need to rush anywhere. The hurried footsteps of my tail stood out to me like a sore thumb.

I stopped suddenly and pretended to examine a market stall of trinkets. Those following me stopped as well and awkwardly turned away, but I’d clocked their faces out of the corner of my eye.

Lucas: Okay, I see three of them.

Hugo: Damn, a couple of the others from another street just spotted me. What do you want to do?

Lucas: You’re too visible in the sky right now. Come back to me and we’ll go from there.

I didn’t want to fight them. There’d be no benefit to it, and with this many people out and about, it was bound to turn the rest of the townspeople against us. I didn’t know who these people were. All I knew was that they were amateurs, and that there was an easier way to deal with their kind.

As soon as Hugo landed on my shoulder, I suddenly switched direction and darted down an alleyway. Before they’d even started running after us, I’d crossed another street, rounded a corner, and then entered a bakery that was open for business. I stood in line and put Hugo on my forearm in front of my body to hide him, in case anyone looked through the window. At a glance, we looked like any other customer.

“We should be safe in this bakery till they pass by,” I said.

A man working behind the counter held up a picture of Donald to the customers. He then pointed at us and several of the customers stood up and pulled out knives from their coats.

Hugo gasped. “It’s a crime bakery!”

We don’t have time for this. I grabbed a bagel off the counter and hurled at the closest man. It was meant to be a distraction, but the bagel slammed into the man’s face and sent him crashing back against the wall. He was out cold.

Upon seeing my destructive bagel throwing skills, the others dropped their knives and backed away.

I grabbed Hugo and bolted out the back door.

“I’m really glad we didn’t eat there,” Hugo said. “Did you see how hard that bagel was?”

“The real crime was them serving it to people.”

“And what’s up with those pictures?”

“Dunno. I guess Donald isn’t too popular around here.”

I held onto Hugo and ran at full speed. I wouldn’t say that I was a blur to the townsfolk, but none of them stood a chance of keeping up with me. The only downside to moving like this was that it drew a lot more attention. They’d know that I was heading to the brewery, which put a clock on things there. We’d have to be quick, assuming Donald and Damian hadn’t been held up like we were.

As Hugo and I approached the brewery, a small pebble landed in the road in front of us. I looked up to see Damian and Donald on a nearby roof. Damian indicated that we should quietly join them. As soon as we did, he pointed to an open office window on the brewery’s third floor. The office itself was empty, but the door was open and voices could be heard arguing from deeper within.

I wanted to go first, but Donald beat me to it and climbed inside.

“Wait!” I hissed under my breath.

He seemed to have heard me and waited in the office for the rest of us to join him. Once we did, I grabbed Donald’s arm and motioned to him that I would be leading from now on. I couldn’t tell which of them responded, but he or the shard nodded. I’d crouched low and had them do the same before I drew the shadows around us. It was dark where we were, but with my power, I made it a little darker. Not enough to make us invisible, though it was pretty close.

Past the office door was a catwalk that stretched over the brewery where the giant vats were stored that produced this town’s beer. In the center of the room was the large hunk of metal that the shard came from. Its tendrils spread out along the ground around it, though thankfully, none of them seemed to be moving right now. If the shard’s aura felt ominous, then this was ten times worse. I almost wanted to turn around and leave. Just tell Donald that he was on his own.

We were given this quest for a reason, I reminded myself. The Officiator wouldn’t do this randomly. There was a greater purpose behind it.

I turned my attention to the other people in the room below. There was a heavyset man who looked like Donald but ten years younger. He was arguing with two men and a woman who all wore silver armor and weapons that glimmered.

I grimaced. Tower Climbers. That’s just great.

Hugo: What the hell are they doing here?

Good question. Our quest was unique, so what are they doing here?

“We’ve been waiting all day!” snapped the thin male Climber holding a mace.

“You said they’d come,” added the woman with a spear resting against her shoulder.

Donald’s brother pulled out a handkerchief and wiped some sweat off his brow. “My spies are everywhere,” he assured them. “I’ve received word that they’re in the city heading this way. They’ll be here soon.”

The third climber was a stout man with two short swords on his back. “Maybe I should go out there?” he suggested.

A flicker of irritation passed over the thin man’s face. “No. There are three of them and three of us. We’re not splitting up so that they can pick us off one by one. We’ll face them here.”

The thin man was clearly the leader, though I still couldn’t see why they’d want to fight us. Could they really have gotten a rival quest to kill us so quickly?

Damian gestured with his crossbow to take one of them out.

I held up my hand. Not yet. I wanted to hear what else they had to say first.

“This is a waste of our talents,” moaned the stout one. “I say we give it another hour and then cut our losses.”

“And that is why you’re not in charge,” the woman replied drily.

“Quiet!” the thin man barked. He closed his eyes and concentrated. After a moment of silent, he smiled and pointed right at where we were hiding. “You don’t have to worry. They’re already here.”