Chip nodded along, paying little attention to the market around him. He jumped when a deep voice behind him said “hello,” turning with an otter pop in his hand, brandishing it at the intruder like one of his father’s swords.

It was the young mercenary from before, blinking bemusedly at the improvised weapon. “Probably not the best idea to surprise Chip,” Uncle Brit said. He pinned him with a hard stare. “It doesn’t matter how handsome one is. Chip will skewer you faster than you can say ‘beavers are doing everything wrong.’”

“And don’t forget it,” Stone said.

River cocked an eyebrow at this assertion.

“Ignore them,” Chip said.

“I’m Chip, and you?”

“Sela,” said the mercenary, shaking his paw. “It’s a pleasure. I hope that your fish is as delicious as you are.”

River whistled at that.

“You don’t even know what I taste… oh!”

Apparently tired of the conversation, River elbowed in with an exaggerated sigh. “Well, Sela, I’m River. Chip and I were just talking about what he needs to do to win this cooking contest that’s coming up,” she said, eyeing the large otter as if he were a fresh-caught trout.

Sela reached out a hand to accept a fish-on-a-stick from Uncle Brit.

“This one is on the house,” Brit said, “but tell me if you like the spice palette. I sent Chip here to get the best spices around, and he came back with some pretty mild stuff.”

Sela nodded back to the elder otter. The group waited with bated breath as Sela crunched through the head of the fish, smacking his lips as he considered. At last, he slapped Chip on the back with a smile. “This is good. I think if you two make this for the contest, you’re sure to win.”

“Sure you say that,” Chip said, “but in reality we’ve got a bunch of judges to impress. And I don’t know their taste palettes, so that is probably the first thing we need to do. River, are you taking notes?”

The raven had grabbed a notepad from somewhere and was slowly scratching something out in longhand.

“If we really want to make a deal I need to know all the variables,” she replied. “And I think that this is going to be good for the betting markets as well. I’m going to have to find out what the odds are.”

River winked at Sela and Chip.

“You’re something else,” Sela said. “I want to hug you.”

“You want to wha-” River stiffened as she found herself wrapped in an otter hug. Her eyes went wide as she locked them to Chip’s, as if to say, Take care of this and anything you want is yours.

Stifling a giggle, Chip patted an awkward paw on Sela’s shoulder. “Uh, would you mind releasing my co-conspirator?”

Sela released the raven slowly, stepping back to give her room.

“You’re strong,” River said. “You’d make a good ranger. Do you want to work with me instead of working for the Company?”

“The Company? I follow the contract. It’s my everything,” Sela said, with an odd look in his eyes. The words were spoken as if by rote.

The three had drifted a bit away from the cart as Brit began taking orders from the line of foxes and birds. Brit’s wide smile was infectious, and Chip couldn’t help his own grin as more customers queued up before their stand.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Listen here, baby druid,” Chip said, “I saw him first. If he’s going to be anyone’s ranger, he’s going to be mine.”

River was taken aback as she stepped back from the triangle.

“You’re considering becoming a druid? I… well… you’d have to be tested and go become trained, but,” she turned to Sela, batting her midnight blue eyelashes, “You, Sela… you could be my ranger tomorrow, if I could have someone create the bond. You know that you get stronger and faster, among other things. I thought that otter ladies loved the ones that became rangers?”

Chip pursued his lips as River seemed to size up the guard. Sela was nothing but a hunk of meat to her. But he’s also a hunk of meat to me, Chip thought. A handsome rascal of a hunk of meat, so who really is in the wrong here?

“I think that we’ve gotten off track,” Chip said, trying to right the discourse.

Sela and River both snapped to attention. Chip began pacing in front of the two.

“I need to win this… we need to win this competition. Are you with me?”

Sela and River exchanged a short glance, and then both nodded emphatically. Chip continued marching like a field commander.

“We’re going to need to know about the other competitors, and who the judges are, and what they like… River, you can take the lead on the judges. Sela, you can make a list of who else is competing, since you’re hanging around the bazaar all day anyway.”

River snapped a salute. “I can use my network of informants to find out who the judges are.”

Chip blinked at her, mouth agape.

“I mean, it’s not my network, but I can ask my ‘friends’ who ‘know things’.”

“It’s a start,” Chip said, folding his arms together behind his back. “I’ll take your scrip and we’ll do an exchange, but you can’t give me a lot at once. The compliance office will be on my arse and you don’t want to deal with the Compliance and Ethical Beaver and Otter Business Conduct Office.”

River raised an eyebrow. “The Compliance –”

“It’s pronounced CEBOB for short,” Sela said. “We’ve all had run-ins with them in the past. They ensure that none of the company agents get out of line, and they’re in charge of the betting and wagering boards.”

“You know what, there probably are some betting odds on this competition,” Sela said. “I should check that out, if you’re certain to win. I’ll bet there isn’t any action in the junior varsity league yet though. There’s probably…”

Sela counted on his paws. The scent of the nearby fish cart caused him to lose track once or twice.

“Four? Otters in this competition. At least I know four food vendors that would love to get those spaces with the blast furnace. The rest are other sorts of creatures.”

Sela looked past Chip, down the short walk to the bazaar. The dirt path led between the large manors on the edge of the mesa, a few minutes walk away.

“Ah, it’s my stalker again,” he said.

River squawked, amused. “It’s your – you have a stalker? This I have to see.”

“I thought you said you wanted him to be your ranger?” Chip said.

“Because he’s strong! Did you think I wanted him because he’s handsome?’ River scoffed. “Handsome doesn’t kill large beasts.”

Chip smiled.

“It does when it’s this handsome,” Sela muttered.

“I’m curious to see who you’d consider your stalker.” Chip turned, whiskers erect.

A familiar otter with an apron approached, circling around the crowd of assembled foxes who were all munching and chatting away. River seemed to be more interested in the customers’ conversations as Chip and Sela watched the otter ambling up from the bazaar.

“Sam is your stalker?” Chip said, incredulously.

“Yes – wait, you know her?” Sela replied.

“Yes, I know her! Also why is she walking so slowly?”

Her footwork seemed wide as she came in closer.

“Maybe she’s got something in her pouch?” River said, inserting herself between the two of them.

“I don’t know, maybe? She’ll be here in a minute and we’re bringing her into the squad.”

“I’m sorry, the squad?” Sela asked.

“You’re in it now. She’s in it. It’s about lifting otters – and corvids – up,” Chip said.

“And making money,” said River.

“And making money.” Chip nodded sagely.

Sam arrived to see the three of them all staring intently at her.

“Well this isn’t how I thought that this would begin,” Sam said. “I throw myself at the mercy of the court.”

“Ah. Court is in session, the honorable Sela presiding,” Chip said. “You stand accused of deliberately feeding working otters extremely hot sauce. The guard will swear you in. How do you plead?”

Sam gulped.