“That is so bizarre,” Seth said.
“Welcome to Humburgh,” Virgil said.
“What does the shop sell?” Seth asked.
“Different things to different people,” Virgil said. “The price is always outrageous.”
“Have you shopped here?” Seth asked.
“Once or twice,” Virgil said.
“What did you buy?” Seth asked.
“Maybe I’ll tell you someday,” Virgil said.
“Should I shop here?” Seth asked.
“Up to you,” Virgil said. “Not right now, obviously. The sun will rise soon, but there is a long time before midday.”
Seth released the handle, and the door immediately vanished. He felt the stony texture of the wall, searching for where the handle used to be. He ran a finger along the mortar between the blocks. “It isn’t just invisible. The door is gone.”
“And it’s still there, if you look correctly,” Virgil said. “Want to go to the arena?”
Seth looked around. “I don’t see an arena.”
“You will,” Virgil said.
“When I look out of the corner of my eye?” Seth asked.
“This one is different,” Virgil said. “But we need admission. How are you at chess?”
“I don’t remember,” Seth admitted.
Virgil pointed out an old woman seated in front of a chess table. “Beat her and she gives you an entry token. No fee to play, but I’ve never seen anyone beat her. Supposedly she has lost a few times.”
“What else can we do?” Seth asked.
Virgil pursed his lips toward a fat troll. “Bombus trades in tasks. If you complete one of the tasks, you get your ticket into the arena.”
“Are the tasks hard?” Seth asked.
“That depends,” Virgil said. “I usually find them harder than an entry token is worth.”
“How do you normally get inside without money?” Seth asked.
“I catch a rabbit,” Virgil said.
“What?” Seth asked.
“This way,” Virgil said.
The sun had crested the snow-topped mountains on the horizon, and Seth stood in a sunken, dusty square toward one end of Arena Plaza Park. Nineteen other participants waited in the square as well, including Virgil. Makeshift bleachers had been raised just beyond the edges of the square, half full of onlookers, some of them eating roasted nuts or popcorn balls.
A troll wearing a dirty military jacket and a red wig raised both hands, partly succeeding at quieting the bystanders. “Five rabbits,” the troll called out. “Twenty contestants. Each rabbit caught means an entry token to the Titan Games. The contest will commence at my signal.”
Five rabbits, two of them gray, three white with dark splotches, were placed into the square by two trolls. Seth glanced at the other competitors, trying to assess who might be the veterans. Virgil had explained that people could only enter this contest once per week. He emphasized that the regulars would be much more skilled at catching rabbits than the newcomers.
“Let the chaos begin!” the troll in the jacket cried, exiting the square up a short ladder built into one wall.
Contestants rushed at the rabbits, and the frightened animals dodged and darted away. For the first few seconds, Seth only watched. Virgil and a couple of the other contestants studied the situation as well. Most participants were trying to corral the rabbits against the sides, but the nimble targets sprang away too quickly.
Virgil nodded toward a black and white rabbit that had separated from the others and most of the crowd. He had told Seth that they should work to drive the rabbits toward each other, so Virgil approached from one direction, and Seth hurried to the opposite side. The rabbit bolted toward Seth, who shuffled sideways in a crouch, hands wide and low, like an infielder ready for a ground ball. The rabbit reversed direction, and Virgil lunged, snatching a rear leg and quickly gaining control of the squirming creature.
“Great job!” Seth shouted. It was the first rabbit anyone had caught.
“By rule I can’t hand it off,” Virgil said. “But I could release it and help until you catch one.”
“Keep it,” Seth said. “One ticket in is much better than none.”
“Remember what I taught you,” Virgil said, running for the ladder.
Someone in the middle of a mob of contestants cheered, and the crowd clapped as well. There were three rabbits left.
Virgil had told Seth that without a partner, rather than charge directly at the rabbits, he should anticipate where the rabbits would flee as others chased them. Three bunches of contestants had formed, one after each of the rabbits. Two other contestants worked the fringes like Seth, waiting for a chance to strike.
One cluster of contestants drove a gray rabbit along a nearby wall, and Seth maneuvered ahead of it. Before reaching him, the rabbit cut toward the middle of the square, and Seth dove, but his outstretched hand came up short. Rising quickly, Seth found another rabbit scampering his way and dove again. This time his fingers brushed fur. The crowd groaned at the near miss.
Several contestants trapped a rabbit in a corner, and one of them caught it, to the delight of the onlookers. Seth got a chance to dive at a gray rabbit, but it changed direction just as he lunged, and he didn’t land anywhere close. As he rose, Seth heard laughs at his expense and noticed some kids pointing at him.
Slapping the worst of the dust from his clothes, Seth decided that he lacked the experience to succeed with his current technique. He needed to try something new.
The low angle of the rising sun left one side of the square deep in the shadow of the five-foot wall and the bleachers. Seth moved into the shadow, crouched, accessed his power, and willed himself to blend into the gloom. He could feel it working and knew he was shade walking. Nobody would notice him now without considerable effort.
Seth waited. Everything now depended on a rabbit coming his way. He could shift around a little, but he knew that when he held still, he was almost invisible. The two remaining groups of
