The Seam Sorceress

The Ferris Wheel, part 1.

Tilly worked her jaw. The man beckoned with the money. She snatched it from his palm and he reeled back, holding his wrist as though he had expected her to take the whole thing off.

"Please don't curse me," he whimpered.

As soon as the words left his lips, the judge clamped a hand over his mouth. He murmured a string of apologies, eyes never leaving Tilly's silver mirror hair.

"Let me make one thing abundantly clear," Tilly said. "I don't take kindly to somebody who gladly swindles a little girl out of her pocket money year after year, and I don't think the good Lord would either. Confidentially speaking, sir, I don't think fey curses are your biggest concern."

He only squeaked in response.

GP placed a tentative hand on Tilly's shoulder. "Maybe we should go."

With a slow, thin exhale, Tilly spoke through a gritted smile. "Y'all have a nice evening, now."

They took their leave.

"Sorry I couldn't be much help," GP said as soon as they got out of earshot. "I might've had some influence if it was a fair-sponsored contest like the pie eating competition, but that one was held by the locals."

"It's all right," Tilly said, even though it wasn't. "I'd just sure like to know which 'third party' raised a stink about us using magic."

As if on cue, they passed a ring of well-wishers still celebrating Peter's victory. Hanging on the winner's elbow was a familiar woman in a polkadot dress.

"Evening, Tillomena." Peter's second wife was a smiling viper. "My condolences about the pumpkin contest."

"One has to take more factors into consideration than just the weight of the specimen," Tilly repeated flatly. "Color, shape, the general vitality and such."

"How true, how very true. It's like the old adage says: 'Cheaters never prosper.'" The school teacher beamed under a kiss to the cheek from her husband. "Maybe if Sprout enrolls in my class she could learn a bit of horticulture. Then she wouldn't have to rely on magic, hm?"

Even the other farmers in the conversation noticed Tilly's resulting speechlessness, their own threads of conversation waning as their curious eyes turned to her one-by-one.

She swallowed hard, finally remembering how to speak. "We'll keep it in mind, ma'am."

"See that you do." Peter's second wife smirked. "Education and proper upbringing are so important."

"Sure is. Just a shame you can't teach human decency." GP offered the most corn-fed smile Tilly had ever seen. "Like another old adage says: 'Those who can't, teach.'"

The teacher nodded in fervent enthusiasm until the meaning of his statement sank in. Her mouth opened, but no reply came—completely gobsmacked. A few of the other farmers chuckled, earning them each a dirty look.

With the last word under their belts, GP shepherded Tilly away from the exchange. Truth be told, she was almost as surprised as Peter's second wife had been.

"Th-thank you," she managed after a moment. "It might not have been the nicest thing to say to Mrs. Howden, but it sure was satisfying."

"Somebody has to stick it to her," he said, thumbs hooked in his pockets. He kicked a stray pop bottle, watching it roll across the uneven field towards a trash can. "I take back what I said earlier. There's at least one witch that's still in need of a melting."

Tilly laughed.

As they reached the back row, Sprout leaped from her spot excitedly, crying spell over just as quickly as it came. "What happened?"