Lucky Rabbit

Not far past the tranquil lake of Pandy’s blood sat a little table, remarkably similar to those scattered throughout the rest of the school. On it rested a statue of Ismara, marble hands outstretched, palms up. In those hands sat a small wooden box. A very flammable small wooden box, thank you very much, Edgar, you slightly morbid pyromaniac.

“That’s it?” Isidor asked, grimacing slightly. “It’s not very big.”

She glared at him. “Haven’t you ever heard that size doesn’t matter? I mean, sometimes it does, but in this case… Maybe ‘good things come in small packages’ would be more appropriate? Is that how that goes? Anyway-”

Pandy stopped, and they both looked up as the whole floor seemed to shake. Motes of dust floated into the air, and all of the doors lining the hall started to creak open, releasing the sounds of dry rustling from within. “Nope,” she said, “time to go.” It must be six-thirty, and while the story Edgar and Clara read in the Hidden Mysteries book technically said anyone trapped on this floor could leave the following week, when it opened again, in practice, if Clara was still here when the steps vanished, it was Game Over. Pandy had no particular interest in finding out why that was.

Lunging forward, she used Hop. Quickly, she grabbed the box, flipping just like she’d learned to do while practicing, pushing off the wall behind the table with her feet. It was a little more difficult doing it in her human body, but it was completely worth it for the gaping astonishment on Isidor’s face. As she flew over him, she reached down and grasped his shoulders, carrying him halfway down the hall and past at least the room with all the dummies. Its door was open now, and she could see something shifting inside as they passed.

She came down hard, because this definitely wasn’t the same as leaping straight up and down again, but somehow managed to use her own body to cushion Isidor as they rolled. Jumping back to her feet, she grabbed his hand with the one that wasn’t clutching the little box, and practically dragged him after her. It was at times like this that she wished she had a skill for running, rather than jumping, but here she was, and she was just going to have to make do.

She didn’t bother with words, because Isidor was already running. He clutched Tempest to his chest, his face set as his breath came out in little pants that she could see just before he ran through them. The air around them was growing colder by the second, and ice crystals were already forming in his hair. The blood caking her arm and side froze and cracked off in a glittering red snow as she raced down the hall.

She had to let go of Isidor and grab the doorframe to stop herself when she reached the last classroom door. Isidor caught hold of her as his feet slipped out from under him, and he nearly slid away on the thin sheet of ice covering the floor. Pandy’s hand tried to slip off at the sudden extra weight, but she dug in her fingernails, ignoring the pain as at least one snapped off.

Grasping Isidor’s arm, she all but threw him toward the small, dark space containing the stairs. Hopefully, those stairs were still there, and the bell downstairs hadn’t yet finished ringing. Isidor thrust Tempest into the hole, then flipped himself around, pulling on his de-agifying charm even as he slid feet first into the small opening. He was such a smart kid. He gave her only the briefest of glances, however, before vanishing into the darkness.

“End Shifting Faces,” she said, even as she slipped and slid across the ice rink that had been a normal classroom only half an hour earlier. She would have left the stained and torn black catsuit behind, but she was afraid she would get tangled up in it, so she put it in her inventory instead, leaving her human skin shuddering in sub-zero temperatures for the briefest of moments. Then the world grew around her, and she dug in her claws to keep herself from spinning away, out of control. The box clattered to the ice beside her, and she was about to kick it into the staircase like a puck at a hockey game when she realized she was an idiot. She had an inventory, and it wasn’t even full anymore!

The box disappeared, and Pandy dug in her claws once more, using Hop to throw herself into the dark hole in the wall. Something cracked behind her, she felt a sharp pain in her rear, but she was through, tumbling down dusty, cobwebbed steps that felt blazingly hot after the frigid temperature she’d just escaped.

End over end she went, not even bothering to try to catch herself. She cast two more Minor Heals, and the second one didn’t require Corruption Points, which told her that however angry Isidor was at her, he hadn’t quite abandoned her after all. As she landed on her fluffy rear, she felt herself bounce in a way she hadn’t for a good part of the fall, and realized that she must have lost her tail again, at least for a little while.

She emerged from the narrow staircase like the proverbial dust bunny, covered in a layer of filth that seemed to be caked onto a base of fresh blood. Yep, not quite all of her had made it off of the third floor before the bell finished ringing.

Isidor looked as dirty and tired as she felt, but rather than heading straight for his room, he slid down the wall, leaving a dark streak behind as he settled into an expectant cross-legged position. Placing Tempest on his knee, he held out both hands and waggled his fingers.

With a sigh, Pandy produced the box, which appeared beneath her paw, exactly as it had been when she dug her claws into it to keep it from shooting away like a hockey puck. Carefully removing each claw, she pushed it toward him, and he gingerly flipped the latch open and looked inside. Then he closed it again and gave her a Very Disappointed Look.

With a regretful glance at the small amount of time still remaining on Shifting Faces, Pandy hopped behind a nearby table and changed back into Ms. Wellington and Ms. Wellington’s clothes. Not the stretchy catsuit, obviously, but the dress she’d been wearing before that. Then she stood, straightened her skirts in what was becoming an habitual gesture, and returned to Isidor, who seemed very bemused by the whole process.

Pandy ruined any sense of decorum her clothes might offer by plopping down on the floor next to Isidor. Not too close, because her shift had returned her to the same state she’d been in when she stored the outfit. The clothes, hairstyle, accessories, and, apparently, state of cleanliness all seemed to be linked to the look, which made sense, given that when Clara changed clothes in the game, her hair, nails, makeup, and all the rest changed as well. Keros’ magic was working overtime to make this aspect of the world just like the game.

In any case, Isidor was filthy, and Pandy was practically clean, so she lifted the box out of his hands with exaggerated care. For a moment, it seemed like he would reach out and swipe some dirt on her out of sheer pettiness, but he was clearly a better man than she – obvious, if one thought about it, since she wasn’t a man at all – and restrained himself.

Opening the box reverently, Pandy lifted out a matched pair of brooches. They were simple, utilitarian things, suitable for holding a shawl or cloak closed against the weather more than decorating a lady’s decolletage or a gentleman’s cravat. Whatever a cravat was. The brooches were shaped like hearts made of tarnished silver, each divided in half, with some kind of black stone on one half, and a pretty but not particularly striking white opal on the other. Oddly, there were two pins on the back, instead of just one.

Pandy took one in both hands and cracked it down the middle, making Isidor’s eyes widen as he gave a sound of protest. Pandy placed the half with the opal in his palm, so he could see that it was undamaged. What had looked like a single piece of jewelry was in fact two, designed to slot together via a clever edge shaped a bit like a puzzle piece.

“The two pieces serve as a sort of protective device,” she told Isidor. “If the person wearing the opal half removes their pin in the normal way, nothing happens. But if it’s torn off, it creates an impervious barrier around the person, and they’ll be absolutely safe for five minutes. The half with the black stone then transports its wearer to the white stone, reuniting them once again.”

In Gacha Love, they were called Heartsplit Charms, and Clara wore hers during the final battle with the demon queen. When Edgar was about to be killed, she used it to call him back to her side, then dealt the final devastating attack from within her protective barrier, fueled by the power of love. It was all terribly cheesy, and perhaps meant to balance the fact that otherwise, Edgar’s was by far the least romantic of the four paths.

Pandy took back the brooch, snapping the two pieces back together before dropping the complete Heartsplit Charm into Isidor’s hand. “It only works once before it has to be recharged,” she warned him. “It takes a tier three or four Light elemental to recharge the opal half, and a tier three or four Dark elemental to recharge the black stone.”

Isidor jerked, staring down at the charm in dismay, and Pandy clicked her tongue. “There’s nothing wrong with Dark elementals, except when bad people use them to do bad things. But yes, the technique for creating and charging these has been lost, since no one is supposed to contract high-tier Dark elementals any more.”

That much was in the flavor text for the charms, and of course Clara only ever used the charm once. In fact, there was no real need for two of them, but Clara could give the second one to Edgar’s mother in order to curry favor with the rather obnoxious woman. Edgar would marry Clara even if his mother didn’t approve, but then they left West Altheric to wander the countryside as adventurers, rather than staying to become the next Marquis and Marchioness Ashford. Some players actually preferred the adventurer route, saying it was more romantic, but Pandy didn’t like the idea of camping and fighting monsters all the time.

Without even asking Isidor if he minded, Pandy made the second charm disappear into her inventory. It was the reason she’d gone up to the third floor, after all, but the second one was also the best bribe for a young sort-of-bodyguard who was worried that his charge would be abducted. Hopefully, having a guaranteed way to both protect and get to Eleanor would make up for what he’d just gone through. How he was going to convince the princess to wear it was his problem.

Staring down into the box, Pandy hesitantly picked up the large golden coin that rested there. It was as thick as her finger and as large as her palm, and it was worth at least one hundred regular gold coins, with the possibility of more if you took it to the right shop to sell it.

“Here,” Pandy said, holding it out to Isidor.

He frowned, looking as reluctant to accept it as she was to give it up. “The brooch is enough for me. I suppose…it was worth it.” He glared at her, dark eyes piercing straight through to her guilty heart. “Never do something like that again, though. Not without warning me.”

His words found their target, and Pandy winced, pushing the gold coin toward him with more determination. “Fifty-fifty. We each get a brooch, you get the gold, and I get-” She tilted the box up so he could see the final object. They both stared at the dirty wooden top that lay, forlorn and abandoned, in the corner of the box. It looked like it would still spin, but the paint was chipped, and there was no doubt that it had seen better days.

Isidor looked from the top to the gold coin, and she could practically see the gears in his head turning. What was so special about an old toy, and why was it worth a hundred gold? “Fine,” he said, closing his hand around the coin. He slipped it into his pocket, then put Tempest in after it. The tortoise perched atop the gold, glaring at the boy, who ignored her obvious displeasure as he stood slowly, trying to brush himself off before slipping the turtle back into his pocket. Unfortunately for him, his spell wasn’t as good as Pandy’s inventory, and he remained just as dirty and disheveled, only smaller. It was convenient that his clothes changed size, though. Pandy was a little jealous of that.

“I’m going back to the room,” he said, climbing to his feet without even a grimace of discomfort. He hesitated, then added, “I suppose you should come, too. As Bunny. And you can’t come in until I finish changing.”

That was completely fair.