Lucky Rabbit

“Don’t their parents worry about them?” Pandy asked, taking another bite of something like brittle cotton candy. A small horde of children were running among the carts, laughing and shouting, as adults shook their heads or smiled indulgently.

Augustus looked surprised. “Why would they? Those children are all old enough to have had their revelations. They can take care of themselves so long as they don’t get into anything too dangerous, and any adult who sees a child in trouble will help out.”

One of the Grange displays tottered precariously after one of the children ran into it at full tilt, and the man tending it shook his fist at the perpetrator. Augustus chuckled. “Well, almost any adult, anyway.” He slanted a look toward Pandy. “Is it not like that in your world?”

She bit her lip, tasting at least five different kinds of sugar mingling on her tongue. Augustus bought her one of every treat that caught her eye, and Pandy was not above taking advantage of this fact. “I don’t know, actually. I never had children, but everyone is always very worried that someone will take them or do something bad to them. I don’t think it used to be like that, but it is now.”

Augustus shook his head. “That sounds like a difficult place to live.”

“It wasn’t,” Pandy said, coming to a halt outside of a small shop with many varieties of footwear displayed in the oversized windows. “Most of the time it wasn’t, anyway. But people tended to be so caught up in their own problems that they didn’t stop to think about the fact that other people have problems, too.”

She smiled as one of the rampaging ragamuffins sent a spray of water splashing over her friends. They shrieked gleefully, and one started to chase the little Water mage, while another sent a tiny cloud of fog chasing after the culprit. “There was no magic there, though.”

“None at all?” Now she really had managed to startle the chancellor.

“None,” Pandy said firmly, then waggled her hand. “Probably. There were stories about magical people and spells, but no one could actually do magic anymore. Or if they could, they kept it very, very quiet.”

“Like the magicless here,” Augustus murmured softly, and Pandy caught a strange look on his reflection in the window glass.

“Magicless?” Pandy asked. She didn’t recognize the term, but was familiar with the concept because one of the villainesses in Gacha Love had no magic. Her name was Ceanna, and she was the daughter of an influential earl. Like Dark mages, nobles without magic could be ostracized, but no one dared be rude to Ceanna. She was infatuated with Bastian, so if Clara went down his path, she was sure to have run-ins with Ceanna and her crew of sycophants.

“Mmm,” Augustus nodded, gaze distant. “It’s rare, and when the person is born to a common family, they might well go their whole lives without even finding out. Sometimes people simply have so little magic that not even the weakest of elementals is drawn to them, and they never have a natural revelation. With a great deal of effort they may be able to do small spells, but sometimes not even that. When someone shows no affinity for magic, it’s simply assumed that they’re very weak.”

He turned to face Pandy, expression a little sad. “In a noble family, of course, it’s discovered fairly quickly, and the child is often sent to live with family elsewhere. No one wants to admit to having a magicless in their family, much like they don’t like to lay claim to the Dark mages. If the child is lucky, they’ll be sent or find their way to the Valley, where no one forms contracts with elementals, and they use magic only for the simplest of things. It’s the perfect place for them to thrive.”

“And if they’re not lucky?” Pandy asked.

His expression darkened. “Like Dark mages, the magicless are vulnerable to those who prey upon others. There are… uses for people who have no magic.” Pandy had a feeling he wasn’t going to say anything more on the matter, not right now in any case, and this was borne out when he pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled at her.

“Now, why are we here?” he asked, glancing up at the sign over the wide windows. It read ‘NEEDLE AND TREAD’ in large letters that had once been painted in gold, but were now patched with a cheaper yellow paint. “Do you need more clothes already? I made certain no one saw the last batch except me, so they should be safe enough to wear. Though I do like this look on you.”

Pandy raised her brows and set her fists on her hips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We just met fifteen,” she checked the countdown on Shifting Faces, “thirty minutes ago.”

Augustus smacked his palm lightly against his forehead. “I am a fool. It’s just that you remind me of someone I used to know.” He looked thoughtful. “Though you have yet to save my life, so perhaps I’m simply imagining it.”

Pandy felt her cheeks flush hot. She really, really wanted to think of something snappy to say in response, and she was certain that something would occur to her in a few hours, but right now, she just spun back to the shop and placed her palm on the door, pushing. It didn’t budge. Her cheeks grew hotter, she pressed harder, and as a quiet crack came from the wood beneath her palm, Augustus reached around her to turn the doorknob, allowing the door to swing open. It struck something and a screech came from inside the shop.

“By node!” a female voice wailed, as Pandy caught the door on the backswing and leaned in to peer around it. Honestly, her first instinct was to run before someone tried to stick her with the hospital bills, but she had something in this world that she hadn’t in the last.

Pandy thought.

Minor Heal successful.

Healed Lady Frances Brewer for 14 HP.

You certainly know how to make an entrance, don’t you?

You should just start casting Minor Heal before you enter a room.

In fact, would you like to do that?

I can set up a routine that will run every time-

Pandy waved her hand in front of her face. It didn’t erase the words that continued spilling across her vision, but at least she was doing something, and the woman on the other side of the door stopped screeching long enough to stare at her.

“Are you mad?” Lady Frances Brewer demanded, then blinked and touched her nose. Her hand came away bloody, but it was obvious that the injury no longer hurt. A younger woman nearby leaped forward, placing a soft pink handkerchief in the matron’s hand.

Lady Frances wiped her hands fastidiously, then turned to the young woman and lifted her chin, clearly expecting her face to be cleansed of blood. Quickly, the young lady wiped away the streaks of crimson trailing from Lady Frances’s nostrils, then dabbed timidly at the bodice of the lady’s dress.

“What are you doing, girl?” Lady Frances demanded, waving away the handkerchief and the woman. “The dress is ruined, but it’s quite out of fashion in any case, so what does it matter?” Turning piercing brown eyes on Pandy, she added, “And you have yet to offer a single apology, but I believe I also have you to thank for healing my wound. Unless it was you, sir?”

She stepped backwards so she could better see the chancellor, the full green skirts of her dress sweeping across the tiled floor. The shop was rather small and not as clean as it could have been, with smudges on the windows and, more tellingly, dust bunnies forming beneath a few dress-wearing mannequins. With her iron-gray hair, stiff posture, and expensive gown, Lady Frances Brewer stuck out like a perfect, fresh cherry in a bowl of canned fruit cocktail.

Augustus, however, had disappeared back through the door and into the crowd outside. All three women leaned to the side, attempting to pick out his russet-colored jacket and dark hair from all the other people streaming past, before Pandy blinked, remembered it was probably her turn to speak, and said, “It was me. I can heal, um, very small things.”

She was belatedly realizing that actually healing wounds was something only Light elementalists were supposed to be able to do. Earth, Nature, and Water healers all had their own strengths, but none of them could simply heal. Which meant Pandy had just ‘admitted’ to being a Light mage, and Light mages were both rare and coveted.

Much of the irritation melted from Lady Frances’s expression, replaced with curiosity. She started to hold out her hand, realized that while she’d wiped off the blood, it might not be perfectly hygienic, and took it back. Her lips tightened slightly, but she said, “Well, all is mended, and I came to this sad little shop to purchase new clothes anyway, so no harm done. May I ask your name?”

What was Pandy’s name? Choosing it had been impulsive, and she’d only used it once. She tried to remember what had inspired it – stringed instrument, snake, looking back at- “Eurydice!” she said. “Eurydice Haupe. It’s, um, nice to meet you, too, and I really am sorry about the,” she gestured to her own face, “but I need to order some clothes myself, so I’ll just…”

Lady Frances looked appalled. “From this place? Oh no, my dear. Let me show you to a better modiste. I only came in here because I had a sudden memory of frequenting this place in my own youth, but it has come down sadly in the years since.”

Pandy started edging around the woman’s skirts, which filled far too much of the space in front of her. That was all she needed – to step on the yards of fabric attached to the old lady and either bring her down or tear off her clothes. Either was completely feasible, and Pandy hadn’t yet managed to strip anyone but herself naked in this new world, so she was about due. “No, really, I just need to… Actually, I’m just looking for someone, so if I can-”

Pandy was so busy watching the old woman that she completely forgot about the younger one, and promptly ran into her. The other woman squawked, flailing her arms, and caught at the nearest mannequin for balance. It tipped, leaving Pandy and the young woman to gape in horror as the first mannequin struck another, knocking it down as well. This caused a domino effect which resulted in a room filled with tulle, crepe, and dismembered torsos in various stages of undress.

As the last dummy rolled over, neck down in the beribboned gown that it had been wearing only a moment before, and which was now very much wearing it, a man ran from the back room. His face was beet red, and it was obvious that he had been watching everything, because he didn’t even demand to know what had happened. Instead, he pointed at the door with a shaking finger and said, “Out! All of you, out!”

Lady Frances drew back her shoulders, puffed out her chest, and said, “Do you know who I am?”

The man, who was a good two inches shorter than she was, stomped across the carpet of organza and waggled his finger in her face. “I don’t care if you’re the queen herself! First you insult my shop, my wares, and me, and then you destroy my beautiful dresses!” He waved his hand around, taking in the destruction, though Pandy thought most, if not all of it, had been salvageable until he walked over it with his dirty shoes.

The noblewoman’s eyes narrowed, and she said, “You’ll regret this,” then swept out, ignoring the taffeta underfoot. The corner of the door caught in some pink gauze, which tore with a loud riiiip.

For a moment, it looked like the man would have an apoplectic fit right there on the shop floor. The color of his face would have put a prize-winning eggplant to shame. Then, pointing to the open door with a shaking finger, he said, “Get out, both of you!”

The young woman paled. “But, sir, I need this job,” she begged, and Pandy realized that she was some unfortunate employee the man had sent out to deal with Lady Frances, not the lady’s equally unfortunate servant.

“And I needed dresses I could sell, and a seamstress who can sew,” the man said, somehow turning an even more brilliant shade of purple. A vein was throbbing in his temple now, and Pandy grabbed hold of the young woman’s sleeve, pulling her toward the door.

“Come on,” Pandy said quietly. “Trust me, they never hire you back when they’re this angry. You can come back tomorrow and talk to him when he’s cooled off.”

The other woman bit her lip so hard Pandy thought she might need to use another Minor Heal on her. But if they stayed any longer, Pandy would definitely have to heal the store owner after that vein exploded, and without Augustus, that would cost a lot of Corruption Points she didn’t want to spend on someone so horrible. She tugged harder, and the young woman’s feet finally moved, though she stepped carefully onto the few small sections of tiles still visible through the deluge of dummies and dresses.

The door slammed shut behind them the moment they made it out onto the square, and the wooden sign in the window flipped to CLOSED with a rattling crash that threatened to break the glass. “We’d better hurry,” the young woman said. “Pretty soon, he’ll realize he should have demanded you or the other lady pay for everything, and you’ll want to be gone before then.”

Pandy blinked. That did seem very likely, actually, so she hooked her elbow through that of her new partner-in-disaster and hurried into the crowd.