Lucky Rabbit

The house was small but very tidy, with no rugs on the floor or extraneous objects scattered about. The front door opened onto a sitting room, with doors leading to the right and left. A chair sat next to one of the windows, where the light streaming through the fine yellow curtains fell the brightest. In that chair sat a woman, far too thin, with deep lines carved into her face, and thick strands of gray wound through her brown hair. In spite of all this, when she looked up toward the group entering her home, Pandy could see a distinct resemblance to her young son.

“Who is it, Saskia?” she asked, squinting in spite of the light provided by the window and not one, but four different lamps that had been turned all the way up.

Saskia’s voice gentled as she replied, “Customer. You remember pants and nice dresses?”

The woman, who had to be Gwen’s Aunt Mira, half-rose, her eyes passing over Pandy and the others until Gwen stepped forward. The hazy brown eyes focused on the movement. She squinted again, then smiled in delight. “Is it Gwen?”

“Yes, Aunt Mira,” Gwen said, crossing to her aunt. Taking one frail hand, she guided the frail woman over. “This is Eurydice, and her beau, Auggie. They’ve come to order clothes from you.”

Mira smiled again. “Oh, good!” She looked toward Pandy and Augustus, finally settling her eyes on Pandy, and said, “I enjoyed making your dresses. I don’t often get to do embroidery any more. Mostly we sell good, solid garments for work, not lovely pieces for a lady.”

Pandy wondered how this woman – who could obviously barely tell Pandy apart from Augustus – could possibly have created the beautiful, delicate embroidery around the hems and sleeves of her new dresses. It was fairly simple, just repeating patterns, but so perfectly done that even Pandy noticed the quality. She wasn’t rude enough to ask, but Mira obviously knew it was all but unbelievable, and she laughed softly.

“Flora,” she said, and a little head emerged from among her brown and gray tresses, which spread over her shoulders. The head was formed of a tiny, unopened flowerbud, and as it moved forward, a leafy body emerged, using blades of grass for arms and legs. It could have been slightly creepy, but there was something charming about it, like a handmade doll crafted by a little girl.

Mira tilted her head so her cheek touched the little elemental, and said, “Flora guides my hands when my eyes fail me. She can’t sew herself, but she knows how the design should look, and I’ve been sewing for so many years that so long as I know where to begin, I can still complete a pattern. And if I’m using cotton or flax, I can tell where the thread is.”

“A Nature elemental,” Augustus said, leaning down to look at the little creature, who ducked back into Mira’s hair. “I’ve never seen one like this before. Do you know what it’s called? Where did you get it? What tier is it?”

Mira looked startled, then reached up to cover the spot where the elemental had vanished, though her smile didn’t fade completely. “I don’t know what kind of elemental she is. She came to me when I was about twelve years old, and she’s been with me ever since.”

Augustus saw her discomfort and immediately stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he said, and his sincerity was obvious. “It’s very rude to ask about someone else’s elemental.” He glanced at Pandy as he said this, and she had a feeling it was a warning for her as much as anything else. “Learning about elementals is a bit of a hobby of mine, and sometimes it gets away from me, but that’s no excuse for invading your privacy.”

Mira relaxed, and as she did, Pandy caught a small movement out of the corner of her eye. Saskia had come forward as they spoke, and now her hand fell away from her waist, where the handle of a large pair of scissors poked out of the front pocket of her apron. She laid that hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder, looked accusingly at Pandy, and said, “I say meet at market. Why are you here?”

Mira opened her mouth to protest, but Gwen beat her to it. “This is why you don’t have return customers, Saskia,” she told the older woman. “Your work is beautiful, but you offend everyone.”

“I do not have these customers because they are frightened,” Saskia returned shortly. “Maybe right to be, eh? But Luca cannot tend stall alone, or measure customers. Must be me.”

Gwen hesitated, and Pandy could see her turning something over in her mind. “What if it didn’t have to be you?” she asked. “I could do it. Helmer finally fired me today, so I’ll have time, at least until I can find another job. But I may wait a little while before I look.”

Saskia sighed. “I tell you, we cannot pay you. I am sorry you lose job, but no job is here.”

“No, I’ll do it for free,” Gwen said. “Helmer won’t give me a recommendation, but maybe someone who comes to your stall will see what a hard worker I am, and offer me a position. In any case, Owen and I finally have enough money to look for a house, so I might be getting married and moving soon, so I’d have to find a job near our new house, anyway.”

Mira lit up. “Oh, Gwen, truly? I’m so happy for you! Why didn’t Mitchell tell me? He was just here earlier today.”

“He… doesn’t know yet, either. Owen and I wanted to be certain,” Gwen said, her cheeks reddening. She obviously didn’t want to tell them she’d just gotten the money from Pandy, and that was fine. “In fact, now that I’ve brought Eurydice here, I should go find Owen, so we can tell Mother and Father together.” She backed toward the door, and neither of the older women made any effort to stop her. Gwen slipped out through the front door, and Saskia locked it behind her before turning back to Pandy.

“You are here now,” she said grimly, as if this was news of approximately the same gravity as a sudden death in the family. “You, come. You, stay.” She pointed at Pandy, then Augustus, before stomping off through the door to their right.

Augustus hesitated, raising his brows in Pandy’s direction as if to say, ‘What should I do?’ and she shrugged back, enjoying the way her shoulders moved with relative independence from the rest of her torso. Really, there were unexpected benefits to a bipedal shape.

The chancellor took a half step away from the door, and she nodded. At least for now, it was best that they do as Saskia said. Besides, she wasn’t certain she wanted him to hear some of the questions she had for the woman.

The next room was almost filled with stacks of cloth, of all colors and kinds. Like the fabric store Pandy had worked in for almost an entire week before the incident with the scrap bin and the fabric glue, each bolt of material was folded and wrapped around a core, so each type could be lifted away from the others, and rolled out to cut on the table that filled the far side of the space. Scissors, thread, pins, and various other bits and bobs were neatly lined up on one end of the table. A piece of thin, unbleached fabric was laid across the table, with chalk lines marking where it needed to be cut.

Saskia turned to Pandy as soon as the door closed behind her. “What do you want? Not clothes.” She folded her arms across her chest, practically glaring.

“Wait,” Pandy said, “do you mean you won’t sell me more clothes, or that you think I want something other than clothes? Not that I’m making fun of your accent, which is lovely,” it wasn’t, at least to Pandy, being rather growly for her taste, “but I’m not sure-”

“You claim our Luca is thief!” Saskia actually growled, using her accent to great advantage. “You send new cart, yes, but our Luca never steals. We do not steal!”

Ohhhhh. Pandy winced. When Augustus had been poisoned the first time, Pandy had broken a few doors while trying to find an antidote. There’d been no hiding the damage, and in an effort to protect Ms. Wellington’s cover as a teacher – and hide the fact that she could break through doors like the Kool-Aid man blew through walls – Augustus had claimed a disgruntled delivery boy had done the deed – Luca. Apparently the chancellor had replaced Luca’s old, far-too-recognizable cart as partial apology for this injustice, but Saskia was having none of it.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Pandy said. “I know Luca didn’t steal anything. But I… Um, I mean, Ms. Wellington, needed-”

“Lzharnitsa. Ya znayu, chto ty est,” Saskia muttered. “You have a new, how do you say, telvorna, but you are same vrazhul.” Her expression shifted, becoming almost confused. “I honor you, yet you do this. Are even vrazhul different here?”

Pandy stepped forward, reaching out as if to take Saskia’s hand. The woman had touched her before, when they met, but now she backed away, her confusion becoming fear. Her knees bent, and her head dropped. “Nai... Ya chestyu tebyá. Ya chestyu tebyá. Ne vzymai menya,” she whispered, trembling.

It was only when Pandy felt the solidity of the wall against her back that she realized she had retreated. “I don’t know what that means,” she told the woman, feeling at least as horrified as Saskia looked. “I’m sorry. I’ll… I’ll find someone else to make pants for me.”

She fumbled behind her for the door, but Saskia’s head came up, blinking. “You wish more pants?” she asked.

Pandy nodded vigorously. “I really, really love the ones you made me, but Ms.- No, I guess you figured out that- I need more. I mean, I wanted to ask about that language you keep speaking in, and what a vrazhul is, exactly, but I can see that’s not a good idea, and that’s okay, because no means no, and you definitely said no in there somewhere, so I’ll just-”

Saskia stood in one smooth motion Pandy never would have believed someone of her age could pull off. Not that she was old, but she wasn’t young, and in Pandy’s experience, anyone over fifty had at least one bit that didn’t approve of standing up too quickly. Then Saskia’s hands had clapped onto Pandy’s cheeks, pressing and pulling until Pandy’s face felt stretched like taffy.

The woman was muttering to herself again as her fingers pinched and pulled, though Pandy could only pick out a few words. Vrakhul, yes, and hadn’t she used tenebrak before, too? The face-molding exercises stumbled when those questing fingers found Pandy’s cropped hair beneath the illusion, and Saskia said, “Da’ah, zakar! Tenebrak volkhentar v konech.” Her eyes closed in obvious relief, and she stepped away.

“You are durakha, but not vrakhul,” Saskia said, deflating. Then she puffed up again and shook a finger in Pandy’s face. “You do not say thief unless someone is thief, yes? You promise, and I make you pants.”

Pandy nodded, but the older woman continued to glare until she raised her hand and said, “I promise never to claim anyone is a thief if I’m not certain it’s true.” Only then did Saskia nod in satisfaction and step over to the table. Sweeping the cloth aside, she picked up an enormous roll of the gauzy material and laid it on the table. She really was very strong for a not-old-but-not-young lady.

“How many you need? Same style? You like this, not,” Saskia pointed to Pandy’s legs, then flowed her hand out along her own lower half, indicating the shape of the wide-legged pants she’d made for Pandy.

Pandy grinned. “Yes, just like these. Only,” her eyes traveled over the stacks of material until she found a few of the right shade. After feeling each one, she carefully tugged out the heaviest one that didn’t feel stiff. “Could you use this for two pairs? And make, like, a wider seam down the outside of the leg, and pockets on the back?” She turned around and placed her hands on her posterior, showing Saskia where the pockets should be.

The seamstress looked thoughtful. “I can do this. Two pairs?”

“And a few more of,” she picked out some colors that would match Falconet’s color scheme, “these?” As she moved the last roll onto the table, a few of the bolts she’d left behind toppled over, revealing material that looked just like what had been used to make Thaniel’s pants – and she should know, since she spent so much time sitting on them.

Lifting it out, she said, “And two more pairs for children, this high and this high.” She indicated Geraldine and Eleanor’s heights on her own body. “With the adjustable waistband.”

Saskia hummed thoughtfully. Then she picked up the gauze and folded a few inches up over the rest. “I leave legs long, and sew them up,” she said. “They grow, you make them long again.” She tilted her head, dark eyes looking slightly doubtful. “Your children?”

Pandy shook her head. “My… my friends.” She didn’t clarify that the children themselves were her friends, rather than children belonging to adults who were friends of hers. “The pants will be gifts.”

The older woman’s face softened. “Good to care for children. All together. Not just one family and one family and one family.” Nodding briskly, she said. “I do. You need shirts?”

Pandy’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh! I suppose I will. Though the girls won’t need shirts, since I think the ones they use with their skirts are the same. I have the shirts you already made me, so maybe only a few more. Probably just white.”

Saskia pointed to the folded cloth. “Pants for girls?”

Pandy nodded.

“How old? This high,” unerringly, she held her hand at the same heights Pandy had shown her, “so eight? Nine years?”

Pandy nodded again. Eleanor was actually nine already, but she was small for her age, so she easily passed for eight. Geraldine was almost nine, and looked it.

Saskia nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful. Then they snapped back to focus on Pandy, and she said, “One hundred gold. You give fifty now. Fifty when you come get. We will not bring to you.”

Pandy grimaced. That was expensive, but the price increase was completely understandable, as was the demand for her to fetch her own purchases. She reached into her pocket, this time managing to remember that it wasn’t normal for coins to appear out of thin air. Fortunately, Gwen had been too distracted to notice earlier, but she really needed to avoid making silly mistakes like that. If possible. Which, honestly, wasn’t likely, but she could still make the effort.

Ten times, she thought, and the gold filled her hand and her pocket. There was no way the stacks she made on the table could possibly have fit into those pockets, but Saskia looked far less surprised at the sudden appearance of a couple of pounds of gold than she had at the idea that Pandy might have children, which Pandy found vaguely insulting.

When Pandy was done, ten stacks of ten gold coins sat on the table. “I’d rather pay you up front, if you don’t mind,” she said, meeting Saskia’s eyes. “I know I can trust you.” Well, she was fairly certain, since she did know where the woman lived, and Saskia had looked very displeased at the idea of being thought a thief. In any case, it seemed to be the right thing to say, and Saskia swallowed hard before she began scooping the coins into a bag she pulled out from under the table.

“Two weeks,” the woman said once all the glittering disks were tucked away. “Come to market. Not here.” Her eyes met Pandy’s. “Best for you not to be seen here. Market is one thing. Work. Home is maybe-friend.”

Pandy’s chin hitched up. She hadn’t really thought of Saskia as a potential friend, but she didn’t hate the idea, and she did hate being told who she could and couldn’t like. She’d had far too much of that in her life, though she was usually the one people were warning others against.

“I’m going to Gwen’s wedding. If she really invites me. Because she might not. But I’ve never been to a wedding. And I like Gwen, so I don’t mind being her friend. I don’t mind being your friend, either.” She bit her lip. “Though you may not feel the same about me. I can meet you at the market, if you really want me to.”

Those dark eyes stared at Pandy, weighing and assessing things Pandy couldn’t begin to guess. “You come here,” Saskia said finally.