I made my way through the swirling pre-dawn snow, unable to help my smile as the rune-stones illuminated excited kips and goblins playing in the first snow of the season before school started.

  Fire braziers every few feet helped keep the air somewhat warm, but the icicle wind still did a number on anyone foolish enough to wander more than a few inches from their warmth.

  I shivered as I pulled my cloak tighter.

  “Beeg!” I heard a voice call to me through the swirls. I glanced over to see Mrs. Glubs waving from her meat stall.

  I grinned as I made my way over.

  “What are you doing out here in this cold?” I asked, looking her over. Except for her cut-off patchwork gloves, she was bundled head to toe.

  “Cold is the best time to sell warm meat pies,” she winked at me. I grinned back and handed over a silver coin — which was enough to buy meat pies for a week. I was ok with it though, Vaarg was at least generous with my pay.

  “You look mighty fine in that cloak,” she continued conversationally as she wrapped up my pie.

  I blushed. I had frozen last winter and promised myself I would stay warm this time.

  I had gone to get a simple flannel cloak… and then gone overboard. It took a huge amount of my savings but well…

  With my eye patch and wooden leg, the shadow-black fabric just well… It looked cool.

  Not that I would ever admit that.

  To anyone.

  Ever.

  I blushed harder and pulled it closer. “Thanks Mrs. Glubs, I like it a lot.”

  She laughed and patted my arm as she stuffed an extra meat pie into my hands. “You give that one to the little one who follows you around, ok?”

  I blinked. Who was following me around?

  “Stupid?” I asked.

  Mrs. Glubs blinked. “Well, that was rude, Beeg,” she huffed, planting her hands on her hips.

  “Oh, no no,” I hurriedly amended. “That is her name!”

  She stared at me, unimpressed.

  “Beeg, no one is named ‘Stupid’.” She rolled her eyes. “And for goodness sakes, you would please give this to her,” she sighed, pulling a package out from under the counter.

  I eyed it suspiciously. “What is it?”

  “It’s a package for your friend. You can see once she opens it,” she nodded with a pleased grin.

  I laughed. “Fair enough. I will also find out her name — thanks for knocking some sense into me, Mrs. Glubs.”

  She waved me off. “That’s the job of the old. The young make mistakes, the old try to help them,” she continued, wrapping up a pie for another customer. “I was your age once too, you know,” she finished with a wink.

  “Thanks Mrs. Glubs,” I smiled.

  “Don’t scare anyone with your big, dark cloak, eh? There are kids playing, and a tall shadow shifting through the snow is a nightmare waiting to happen,” she admonished.

  Ah. I adjusted my hood so my face showed a little more.

  A kid, whom I thought had been laughing, instantly stopped screaming and blinked at me.

  Oh. I smiled awkwardly.

  He resumed his screaming at a higher sound ceiling and bolted off into the snow — somehow managing to trip, face-plant, pick himself up and continue on without any loss in volume.

  I scratched my chin awkwardly.

  Mrs. Glubs nodded her approval, turning her attention to her growing line.

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  I idly nibbled on my pie as I meandered my way to work, my mind a million miles away. It felt weird, normal mornings existing in the chaos that was my life.

  Or maybe it was weird how easily I now shifted from chaos to normal and back again, I mused.

  And then there was Stupid. I was just so used to calling her Stupid, I just kind of forgot it wasn’t her name.

  I’ll ask her today, I resolved as the store came into view.

  I paused to stare at it for a moment. The windows were lit. Warm.

  Inviting.

  Which I knew was the doing of the store to welcome me in today, because Vaarg would never spend the extra money.

  I was touched the store was thinking of me.

  I smiled and adjusted Stupid’s breakfast and Mrs. Glubs package so I could pat the doorjamb to let the store know I was here.

  I snorted as I glanced down at the doorknob.

  Stupid had hung a sign.

  “Door Openz Here, Beeg!”

  It was complete with pink stars and smiley faces.

  Hah, she still thinks I don’t know how to open the door, I chuckled.

  I wonder whatever happened to the knob she gave me?

  I reached down to use the knob, just to appease Stupid. The door absorbed it instantly.

  …And then the bell sniffed.

  As if offended I wasn’t going to pat its doorjamb.

  The sign gently drifted to the ground.

  These kids, I sighed, scooping up Stupid’s drawing and patting the doorjamb.

  The store happily creaked and let me in.

  ____

  “He is going to kill us all!” I instantly heard one of the cloaks hissing to her companion.

  “You’re over-reacting, Sibil —“

  “You heard what she said! He opened his grimoire of spells and instantly cleaned the entire room. The entire room, Sibil! With fresh paint! And pressed clothes!”

  “I know, Henrietta but —“

  I raised an eyebrow. Sibil and Henrietta.

  Huh.

  “The store likes when he cleans. What happens if it accidentally thinks we cleaned?”

  There was silence.

  “Oh heavens above, he is going to kill us all,” Henrietta croaked.

  I sighed and set down the packages.

  “Stupid! You here?” I called.

  “YETH BEEG! OH HI BEEG!” Stupid careened around the corner, powered gremlin dust floating off of her in waves.

  “Morning, Stupid,” I smiled. “I got you breakfast!”

  Stupid froze.

  She looked at the meat pie.

  Then she looked at me.

  Then she smiled, but it looked like she was going to cry.

  “Beeg got Stupid breakfast?” She asked.

  I smiled.

  She gingerly took the pie, a look of absolute disgust crossing her face before she resumed her smile.

  “Stupid… loves… the meat pie,” she choked.

  I cocked my head. “Stupid… do you not like the meat pies?” I asked.

  She instantly smashed it into a hug against herself.

  “Stupid hates the pie, but Stupid loves that Beeg gots it for her! So Stupid loves the pie!” She screeched, instantly shoving it into her mouth.

  I watched in shock as she chomped through the tears, swallowing the pie whole — packaging and all.

  “Uh…”

  “Fanks, Beeg,” Stupid said, giving my leg a hug.

  “See how terrified she is of him?” The cloak I now knew was Sibil whispered.

  Sibil. The sibilant one.

  Oh how it fit.

  Stupid froze.

  Then turned to face Aisle Two.

  “Stupid likes the meat pies. And Stupid likes Beeg,” she warned, her voice as serious as I had ever heard as she itched her nose to prepare a sneeze.

  “Yes Madam, Stupid, my mistake!” the cloak groveled, both of them hurridly folding themselves into the aisle.

  Stupid smiled.

  “Beeg, what’s that?” she asked, pointing to the package.

  “Oh, this is for you, too!” I hurriedly answered. In the midst of the chaos, I had forgotten to give it to her.

  “Beeg got Stupid TWO things in ONE Day?!” She screeched.

  “Well no, this is actually from —“

  But Stupid wasn’t listening as she tore the package from my grasp and pulverized the wrapping.

  I froze as she pulled out a small, powder-blue dress.

  Stupid glanced at her burlap dress.

  Then she stared at me, her eyes huge.

  Her breath came in short, quick gasps.

  Her tears fell.

  I glanced up at It, who was watching in bemusement, hands gently folded behind his back.

  Oh… Oh boy. What have I done?

  Stupid clutched the dress to her chest, gasped and fainted in a cloud of sparkling gremlin powder.