Lucky Rabbit

When Pandy found the five children outside, they had obviously already tired of waiting for her. Thaniel, Geraldine, Lord Winston, and Abbington were running in literal circles for no apparent reason, periodically shrieking at some self-proclaimed success. Brook sat beside the princess, while Eleanor had forgotten her dignity for a moment, and was laughing so hard she was clutching her sides, eyes nearly squinched shut. Only Isidor was doing his best to remain unmoved, and a small smile still played around his lips as he absently stroked the tortoise sprawled across his palm. Tempest’s red-orange eyes watched the children, beak half-open in what might have passed for a laugh in any other creature.

At Pandy’s approach, the dog, then Abbington, and finally Geraldine slowed, then stopped, panting heavily. Thaniel continued on for a bit, until his final shout of triumph received no answering protests, and he looked around to see what had happened. Spying Pandy, he ran toward her, stopping just short of giving her a hug. Pandy wished she could hug him, but they were in public, and there were more than a few other Small Groups within sight, so it was best not to. Besides, her hands were full.

Over the past week, they had each chosen a preferred place to sit or stand during class, and now the two girls sat on one bench, skirts covering their knees and ankles neatly crossed. Pandy had tried assuring them that they didn’t need to be so formal, but Eleanor had given her a horrified look, and Geraldine generally followed her friend’s example, albeit with longing glances at the boys, who sprawled or sat cross-legged, according to their natures. Abbington and Thaniel, for their part, sat on the path – Thaniel as close to Pandy as he could reasonably get, while Abbington was a good bit further away, Brook sitting or lying beside him.

Only Isidor moved around, his eyes shifting between Eleanor, the surrounding area, and up, into the branches of the trees. So far as Pandy knew, he’d never caught sight of whatever she’d noticed that first day, and she herself hadn’t seen it again. She hoped it would stay that way, but had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t.

Settling onto the bench which had become ‘hers’, Pandy pulled the five packages from behind her back. They were of all different sizes, and Pandy selected the smallest from among them, before turning to Geraldine and holding it out. “I went shopping this past weekend,” she said, more for any eavesdroppers than because the children didn’t know, “and picked up a few things. This is for you.”

Geraldine’s heavy brows shot up, and her brown eyes sparkled. She hesitated only a moment before accepting the simply wrapped little bundle. Quickly, she tore it open, exposing the contents. It was a little gray cat, made of some soft but sturdy material – perhaps wool? – with small yellow glass beads for eyes. At Pandy’s request, the vendor had quickly sewn a little loop of ribbon to its back, and now Geraldine pinched this between her fingers, brows beetling in confusion.

Pandy hadn’t seen anything like this in this world, and was a little worried that might simply be because it violated some school rule – she really needed to find a copy of those rules – but Geraldine’s expression said the girl didn’t recognize it at all. Holding out her hands, Pandy said, “May I see your bag?”

Dubiously, Geraldine passed over the bag and the little toy cat, and Pandy wrapped the loop around the strap of the bag, then passed the cat through the remainder of the loop. It was a tight fit, but while jewelry clasps certainly existed here, there hadn’t been any available, and Pandy hadn’t seen anything like carabiners here, either. Once the kitten dangled jauntily from the strap, she handed it all back to Geraldine, whose eyes were huge.

“When I was in school, things like this were really popular,” Pandy told the girl. “This one looked so much like Miss Cupcakes that I couldn’t resist. See, it makes it less likely you’ll mix your bag up with someone else’s.” The students’ names were embroidered on the bags, but it was in such an unobtrusive way that more than one child had had to rush back and exchange bags with the person sitting next to them. Geraldine seemed to be particularly prone to this, so Pandy hoped this would help. Besides, the fuzzy little cat was so cute!

Geraldine stroked the ornament a few times before holding it out to Miss Cupcakes, who gave it a desultory sniff before returning to her interrupted nap. The girl looked at Pandy, grinning. “Thank you, B- Ms. Wellington!”

Pandy smiled back and picked up the next package. It, too, was small, and when she handed it to Eleanor, she could see that the girl already suspected what it was. The princess’s face lit up when she revealed her very own little dog, complete with a pretty green ribbon sewn to his back. The dog had deep-set brown eyes and a jowly face so like Lord Winston’s that Pandy had actually seen this toy first, and only found the gray cat after the idea for these gifts came to her. Of course, then she’d had to find something for all of the others, as well.

After saying thank you, Eleanor quickly attached the dog to her own bag, then held it up to Geraldine’s kitten, giggling as Geraldine pretended her own small toy had hissed and recoiled from the dog. Then the two toys ‘made friends’, and the princess showed her prize to Lord Winston, who not only smelled it with great interest, but gave it an approving little lick.

That done, Pandy paused, her hand hovering over the remaining three bundles. They were all larger, and had taken considerably more time to pick out. She wasn’t sure which she should give out first, but as she looked down, she saw that one of Abbington’s toes had finally managed to escape the confines of his shoes, extending into open air like a convict sprinting for freedom. Making up her mind, she passed the largest package to the boy.

Abbington was definitely the most difficult to buy for of the children, and Pandy had been about to give up on finding anything he might really like when she walked past one of the nicer shoe stores, the ones Mr. Shaw the cobbler had pointed her towards. There in the window sat a pair of shoes exactly like the ones worn by all of the students at Falconet. They looked big enough for Abbington, and when she went in, she was told they’d been made for a second-year student whose mother had refused them because of a small flaw in the leather.

Abbington wasn’t much taller than the other boys his age, and quite a bit shorter than Isidor’s adjusted height, but he was sturdy, with large hands and feet, as well as wide shoulders that were unusually muscular for such a young child. Shoes meant for a student a year older should fit him, shouldn’t they? If nothing else, he could grow into them.

When the Valley boy carefully separated the flaps of the wrapping paper, revealing the gleaming black shoes, he could only stare. A moment passed, then two, before he thrust them back toward Pandy. “Ican’take’em,” he said, words barely coherent as he rushed even more than usual. “S’too’spensive. M’pa’d-”

Pandy had half expected this, and rather than insisting, she took the shoes back with a sigh. Shaking her head, she said, “I understand. Well, they’re damaged, you see.” She turned one shoe to the side to reveal the dull groove just above the sole, “so I can’t return them. No one else will buy them. I suppose I’ll just have to throw them away, if you won’t take them.”

Silence, until Brook grunted, and Pandy finally risked meeting Abbington’s gaze, only to find that his glasses had fogged up, concealing his eyes. With a sniffle, the boy pulled a pure white but well-worn handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes, then his nose. After stuffing the pocket square back into its pocket, he reached out and took the shoes back with trembling hands.

“ThankeeMz,” he said, so low she could barely hear him. He swallowed hard, then took off his glasses, revealing reddened eyes. Carefully, he tried again. “Thank you, Ms. Wellin’ton. I’ll pay ya back, iffn you-”

“You will do no such thing,” Pandy said, pulling just a bit of Ms. Wellington around her like a cloak. She wanted to gush over the boy, but she knew that would be insulting to him. “They barely cost me anything,” not quite true, but thanks to the tiny flaw, they weren’t as expensive as her own new boots, “and the best way to repay me is by no longer hobbling around.”

Abbington bobbed his head, mumbled another sentence she really couldn’t parse this time, and pulled off his old shoes, revealing the same thin socks he’d been wearing since the first day. As he slid the shoes on, finding that they were less than half a size too large, Pandy wondered if she could get away with slipping him a new pair of thick, warm socks before winter.

While Abbington was still wiggling his toes in sheer joy, Pandy moved on to the next bundle. This time, her fingers lingered on it reluctantly, feeling the shape of the book within. Honestly, she wanted to read it herself, even though she suspected she couldn’t actually use any of the information contained within.

She’d recognized the titles of so many of the books at the little stall selling ‘last chance’ books – tomes without covers, with damaged or missing pages, faded ink, and generally unwanted books from some shop that had given up on them. They were piled up in crates or on tables, and someday when Pandy had more time, she was going to go back to get more, but she knew that by then the books she’d seen this time would be gone, either sold or finally thrown away.

This book was one that was mentioned in Gacha Love, but the player never had an opportunity to actually read it. Instead, the single copy Clara found crumbled in her fingers after Edgar accidentally burned it, which led to one of the few really touching scenes between the two, where they discussed their shared love of books.

Rather than asking Isidor to open the wrapping paper, Pandy did it herself, since she suspected he would refuse out of sheer principle. Even Pandys bearing gifts were Untrustworthy, after all. Perhaps especially Pandys bearing gifts. But there was no way Isidor could resist a book.

It was old. It was damaged, too, with nibbles around the edges from some particularly hopeful family of rodents. Fortunately, the flavor of mildew must have discouraged them, because the actual text-bearing part of the pages was stained but otherwise intact. The part of the cover that should have formed the spine was missing, revealing the thread and glue still holding the whole thing together out of sheer habit. The front and back covers were peeling, but a few words remained legible. Enough for Pandy to infer the rest, though she didn’t know if Isidor would recognize it.

Edge of…Storm…Auralis, it read, and Pandy saw Isidor’s gaze catch on the last word. His fingers tightened around Tempest, who still sat in his palm, and the boy leaned forward, but didn’t move toward Pandy. Standing, she crossed to him and held out the book. “You asked about Lightning elementals, so when I saw a book mentioning one, I bought it. It’s not in very good shape, so the shopkeeper had it in a box with some other books that were going to be thrown away.”

Isidor flicked a glance at Abbington, who was admiring his reflection in the glossy shoes, and said, “Amazing how all these vendors were just getting ready to throw things out when you happened by.” He didn’t say it very loudly, though, and Abbington didn’t seem to notice.

Pandy shrugged, pushing the book toward him. “Just lucky, I guess.” She almost choked on the words, never having been lucky a day in her life. Though actually that trend seemed to be shifting, because here she was, surrounded by these wonderful, rather ridiculous children, and only one of them seemed to hate her.

As if he couldn’t hold himself back any longer, Isidor reached out and took the book, wincing as a few flakes of cover fell away beneath his touch. He looked at the words written there, silently sounding them out until he reached ‘Auralis’, at which point his lips twitched upward. “It’s in terrible condition. It probably belonged in that bin,” he said, placing Tempest in his pocket so he could hold a hand out for the wrapping paper Pandy still clutched. When she gave it to him, he wrapped the book back up with a care that belied his deprecating words.

Only when it was safely hidden within the brown paper wrapping did he look up again, absently rubbing flakes of old leather onto his pants. He was usually as fastidious as Eleanor, but this time he didn’t even seem to notice the dusty streak left behind on his pant leg. “Thank you,” he said grudgingly, eyes sliding away, then back to her. In his six-year-old shape, he was quite a bit shorter than she was, but somehow he had all the presence of his older self as he added, “I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

Yet. What a lovely word. So there was still a chance. Yes, bribery worked! “I know,” she replied, but dared a smile, and to her delight, he very nearly smiled back.

Feeling a tug at her skirt, she turned, looking down at a Thaniel who was nearly vibrating with tension. He was holding onto her clothing, but staring at the medium-sized package she’d left behind on the bench. “Is there something for me?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot as if he’d leap back to the abandoned bundle.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Pandy said, almost laughing as his blue eyes shot to her, filled with indignation and betrayal. Crouching, she whispered, “Of course there is. Go see.”

He darted away, and paper went flying as he tore the package apart. As soon as a pouf of white fur came into view, however, he paused, then began opening it more carefully, soon revealing a life-like white rabbit doll, complete with long ears, a fluffy tail, and a triangle of pink for a nose. Its eyes were brown, not red, but otherwise it looked remarkably like Bunny. Wrapped twice around its middle was a belt, with a small sheath dangling from it, making the rabbit into a warrior-coney.

Drawing the little knife, Thaniel immediately tested the edge with his thumb, and Pandy was glad the little thing was about as sharp as the butter knife she’d used on the Apparition. “It’s Wayward Pirate Pete’s sword,” Thaniel whispered, holding it up so the others could see. It most definitely wasn’t a sword, since the blade was no more than five inches long, but the hilt was stamped with the same skull and crossbones topped with a jaunty top hat that was described in the books.

It was clearly meant to be a toy, and the dull edges reflected that fact. It did have a point, however, and if he tried hard enough, he could probably stick himself with it. Honestly, Pandy had hesitated over it, having already bought the bunny, but it had just seemed too perfect not to buy. If Keros’ magic was really determined to stab Thaniel, it could do so at just about any time during Combat Training, so giving him this toy didn’t seem that risky.

“You’ll have to be careful with it,” she told him. “No play-fighting or pretending to stab anyone. It could really hurt someone.”

Thaniel flinched at these words, but his fingers tightened on the hilt. “I’ll be real careful,” he promised with great solemnity, sliding the small weapon back into the sheath. His fingers brushed over the soft rabbit plushie as he did so, but he didn’t embrace it, just placed it back down on the bench beside Pandy as she sat.

“Well, I don’t have much else for today,” Pandy admitted, looking from one to another of her young…students? Did she dare to claim them? But she was their teacher, however much of a temporary technicality that might be. “Maybe everyone can talk about what they learned today, or if something particularly interesting happened.”

Heads came up, and Geraldine seemed ready to speak when Pandy held up her hand. “But,” she said, “tomorrow I want to meet back in the music room. I have a lesson that would be best done inside.” She was astonished at the authoritative tone of her voice. Ms. Wellington’s voice. Either way, she had produced it, and Pandy was fairly certain she’d never been authoritative in her life, but not only had she been Quite Firm with Augustus and Professor Beeswick, now she was flat-out telling the children what to do. She was an adult and their teacher, but still.

All five heads nodded, simply accepting Pandy’s right to demand they be in a certain place at a certain time, and then Geraldine said, “Today in art, Mrs. Rowan wanted us to paint something we see every day, but in a different and imaginative way.” She lifted her nose in the air and her voice went squeaky as she said ‘imaginative’. “So I painted Miss Cupcakes, but as a cupcake. With frosting fur and candle paws-”