The stage loomed large over the main street, straddling the median and overtaking both lanes. The whole monstrous setup glowed purple, the bright white lights of the stage bleeding through the long purple curtains that hung off the sides. Gunnar walked Penelope right up to the corner of it and swept the curtain aside before stepping back with a smile. It was a clear order: go inside.

"Thanks," Penelope muttered, stepping beneath his arm. It was better to be polite. She needed to stay on his good side.

"No, no, thank you," Gunnar said, letting the curtain fall behind him as he followed after. Behind the curtains, shaded from the light, it was even more purple. "For being so amenable." He led the way now, striding off into the crowded backstage area that was swarming with activity.

Penelope hurried to follow. "Just doing what was asked."

"Even so," Gunnar said with a light-hearted chuckle. "I've been pleasantly surprised. I wasn't quite sure you were going to play nice. For a while, I was worried you'd be a real pill and do something stupid, like go back there during the day." He laughed again, like that really would've been stupid.

She wanted to ask why, but she knew Gunnar wouldn't give her a straight answer. She hated how he talked, expertly circling the topic so that she knew exactly what he was talking about while anyone else who overheard would notice nothing amiss—like this all wasn't a deal with a devil and she hadn't witnessed him feed a man to a monster.

She wasn't even sure if he knew about that—about what she had seen—but even if he did, it wasn't like he was going to admit it. Maybe he didn't know, Penelope hoped. After all, there'd be no way he'd be making a deal with her if he did...

Or maybe he did and he had already—

"By the way," Gunnar said, slowing down to shoot a glance at her over his shoulder. He raised an eyebrow. "I haven't gotten your email."

Every muscle in her body tightened. She averted her gaze, doing her best to seem unbothered. "I-I wanted to wait to make sure it was all going to go how we agreed—"

"No, no," Gunnar said, stopping short. Penelope realized they had stopped right beside a set of stairs that led up to the main stage. Right now a local cover band called Rocky and the Ravens was butchering a Dave Matthews song for an apathetic crowd. "You sign the contract first. That's how these things work."

Penelope had to try very hard to keep her face flat, free from the anger that was boiling under her skin. As he said, she needed to play nice. "O-Of course. I guess now that I'm here, that's enough proof—I'm doing my part, so then you will do yours."

"Exactly," Gunnar said with a perfectly sunny smile.

Penelope forced a smile back and pulled out her phone. She opened the draft that was sitting in her email—a signed contract with Gunnar and the city of Ridgestone. A contract that shows that she agreed to be the festival's special guest, as well as create certain 'promotional materials' that 'proved' the existence of The Raven.

Basically, this was written proof that she was willing to fake it all for a couple of bucks and some exposure.

It was also Gunnar's guarantee. If she ever mentioned what she had seen at the bunkhouse, then he'd leak this contract giving the Internet the receipts they needed to prove that she had been lying all along... And it would shred what was left of her reputation.

Her finger shook as it hovered over the send button. If she sent this, she'd never be able to reveal what she had seen, what she knew... "W-What about the others?"

"Xander and his team signed a contract just like that when I hired them," Gunnar said like it was obvious.

"And Liam?"

Gunnar chuckled. "Well, Liam is the nephew of an individual well known to be disturbed. And you know, they say mental illness can be genetic..."

Penelope ground her teeth together with a snap to keep herself from saying something she'd really regret. "Is that what you did to Henry?"

"Something like that," Gunnar said, lowering his voice for the first time. "But now I don't have to rely on local gossip to spread the word. These days, technology makes that job much easier. Pay for a few hundred chatty bot accounts on Twitter and the problem takes care of itself." He shrugged like it was really that simple, but then his ice-blue eyes snapped to hers. "Same could be said for leaked documents."

Shivers travelled up Penelope's spine. She realized that he wouldn't just leak the contract, he'd launch an entire campaign against her—against Liam. She shuddered. She'd already gone through that once... And she would never want anyone else to experience that either. Especially not Liam.

"I'll make sure Liam doesn't say anything," she said, her finger tapping at the screen. The email went out with a woosh.

"That'd be much appreciated," Gunnar said. A ping came from his pocket. He pulled out his own phone and the screen lit his face in a ghostly pallor. In the harsh light, Penelope could see every detail of his face. She expected to see a thick layer of makeup, covering up the scratches from where the little raven had scratched at him.

But to her surprise, there was none.

His pale skin was fresh, unblemished.

Healed.

How...?

Gunnar didn't notice her stare. He was too busy smiling at his screen. "Got it," he said, switching the phone off and sliding it back into his pocket. "Now that's all done," he continued, reaching into his other pocket, "I have something for you."

He produced a set of keys, letting them dangle in the air between them. Penelope recognized them immediately—they were the keys to the SUV that had been in Liam's pocket. She took them with shaking hands and inspected them closely, searching for signs of Liam's condition... Was he okay? But the keys looked perfectly ordinary—no dirt, no cracks, no sign of distress.

"For when we go to pick them up," Gunnar explained. "So you can drive them back."

Penelope tightened her grip on the keys. It was a small thing but it mattered. It was a sign that Gunnar was going to keep his word and do exactly what he said he would...

He'd let them go.

"When are we leaving?" she whispered, putting the keys into the pocket of her jeans, shoving them deep down to the bottom so they'd be secure.

"After," Gunnar said. He'd turned to face the stairs and was busy smoothing out his clothes in preparation for heading up.

"After what?"

"After the festival is over," Gunnar said, an edge slipping into his usually perfectly smooth voice. "I'm the mayor and you're the special guest. We've got a very full schedule ahead of us. First, the introduction on stage. Then there's a meet-and-greet and—"

Penelope let Gunnar drone on, blocking him out. Thinking of being trotted around the streets like some kind of doll made her skin crawl, but she'd do it gladly.

After all, that was her job...

Keep Gunnar happy.

Keep him distracted.

A girl Penelope didn't recognize rushed up to them. She had a headset on and was clutching a purple clipboard to her chest. "Ready, Gunnar? You're on in 30," she said, the words all coming out in a rush. "Once the music starts, you can head up and—"

"I know, Rita, I know," Gunnar said, swatting her away like she was an annoying bug. "We've been through it a thousand times in rehearsal."

Rita just nodded and shot Penelope a heartening look—like she was sorry she had to deal with him—before she disappeared back into the crowd.

Penelope swallowed. Her throat suddenly seemed very dry. She'd been in front of crowds before, at VidCon and other meetups, but nothing like this. Not since—

Suddenly the noise from the stage stopped and a hush fell over the crowd beyond. Another song, something other than Dave Matthews, began to swell up...

"It's time," Gunnar said, shooting Penelope a look. It was half-excitement, half-threat. He held her with his stare for a moment before he began to ascend the metal stairs that led to the stage...

Penelope took a deep shuddering breath before squaring her shoulders and following after him. As she reached the bright lights of the stage, her anxiety began to melt away.

Showtime.