Mother looked up at the clock tower, worry tightening her face. “We’re a little stretched for time,” she said. Her eyes dropped to mine, fierce and intent. “Benethasia—name it. Your father promised you a present. I’m getting you one.” Her voice carried urgency, almost desperation, as if this choice mattered more than I could know.

  “She wants a tarantula,” Sandra Lynn piped in, far too gleefully.

  My nose wrinkled. I wasn’t afraid of spiders, but they were hardly pet-worthy in my mind. Mother’s eyes didn’t waver.

  “It’s Benethasia’s choice today,” she said firmly.

  I hesitated, nervous of disappointing Sandy after all her antics, but her eagerness to move forward gave me courage. “Could I… get a magical item? Like Sandy’s boots?”

  Mother blinked. I could see her weighing the request in her mind, considering consequences. Then her eyes narrowed with recognition, as though recalling something long kept in memory.

  “I may know a place.”

  She turned sharply. “With haste, ladies.”

  We plunged deeper into the market, to a section I rarely saw: the schemers’ quarter. Mother usually avoided it, dismissing it as nests of tricksters. Here, merchants hawked love potions—“One drop and they’ll be laying at your feet!”—and fake relics, “artifacts of the Avatars” that looked suspiciously like junk.

  But one stall drew my eye. Its sign bore the letters PW with the word Friendly beneath, opposite of Zelda’s crossed-out notice. Inside, chocolates, vials, even bits of armor glittered under the shade of a battered umbrella.

  “What does PW mean?” I whispered to myself.

  The thought vanished as Mother’s gaze fixed elsewhere. “There.”

  Calling it a stall was generous. It was a table beneath a faded umbrella, with wares spilling into a shaded nook behind it. Necklaces, rings, daggers, and potions cluttered the display. A tall man leaned against the table, half-elf by the look of him, his clothes travel-worn but his presence commanding.

  “Good day,” he said smoothly. “What beautiful ladies grace my table?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Mother raised her hand, cutting him off like a schoolmistress. “No tomfoolery. I have coin and want. I was once a practicing witch, and I will know if you lie. Normally I wouldn’t give schemers like you a second glance, but today I choose you because… you are a patron of my husband’s shop. I’m giving you a chance. So—do you have anything of merit?”

  The man’s smirk faltered, replaced with something closer to respect. His eyes swept over his collection, then rolled in reluctant agreement. “Yes, Mrs. Plad. I believe I do.”

  With a dramatic tug, he pulled a cloth over the front table, concealing the glittering junk, and gestured us behind the umbrella flap.

  We stepped into his private nook. It was no grand chamber—hardly bigger than a bedroom. A cot leaned in one corner, a half-eaten meal on a collapsible table beside it. A single lantern glowed reddish-yellow, casting long shadows across racks of armor, shelves of potions, and a vanity cluttered with jewelry and scrolls. Weapons lined the walls—swords, bows, and daggers gleaming in the dim light.

  “So,” the half-elf said with a sly smile, “what do you have in mind?”

  “No weapons,” Mother ordered quickly.

  “All magic is dangerous in the wrong hands, Mrs. Plad,” he replied, his voice low and ominous.

  “Something for one of my girls,” she countered, “for fun—or better yet, protection.”

  His smile widened. “For protection, I’d suggest rings or bracelets of the animal kind. Bear, rabbit… both solid choices.”

  Mother leaned forward, listening intently. But my eyes had drifted elsewhere.

  Among the jewelry piled in the vanity, something caught the corner of my vision—a flash of red. I crept closer, hardly hearing as he described a bracelet that would allow me to hold my breath underwater.

  Sitting in an open drawer was the bushy red tail of a squirrel. At least, that’s what I thought. My heart leapt—until I realized the truth.

  It was a doll. A poorly sewn, cartoonish stuffed squirrel with a frozen scowl stitched onto its face. But its tail… the tail was flawless, lush and real. Peculiar and out of place among all the glittering relics.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

  Without thinking, I interrupted. “What does this do?”

  The man glanced over, amused. “That? A minor enchantment. Nothing more. When activated, it’s a one-time use. After that, it’s just a doll.”

  Mother’s eyes sharpened. “What spell?”

  “Perfect Dream,” he said simply. “Guarantees a night of flawless sleep. Dreams without pain or heartache. Very simple enchantment.”

  My fingers closed around it. The other items shone with promise of power—protection, heroics, even danger—but the little red squirrel was different. Strange, yes, but comforting.

  The story of my mother choosing a different path whispered through my mind. She had walked away from fire and power to choose the life she wanted most. I didn’t know what path was mine yet—but I knew this squirrel would come with me.

  And then… the room stilled.

  The lantern’s glow seemed to dim for the briefest instant, the murmurs of the market outside vanished, and even the half-elf’s smile froze as though caught in wax. In that suspended silence, I swore—for the absolute life of me—that the little red tail twitched. Just once.

  And then the world carried on, as though nothing had happened at all.

  “I want this,” I declared.

  Mother nodded, unsurprised. She turned to the man. “And the attunement?”

  He chuckled, glancing at me. “She’ll need to hug it as she sleeps. That’s all.”

  I clutched the doll tighter, smiling with wonder.

  Mother handed him a full pouch of coin before he could protest. His eyes widened. “Mrs. Plad, that’s far too much. It’s merely a parlor trick I sell.”

  Mother’s gaze was steady. “And that is why I chose you, Senad. Arturo told me you buy food for those down on their luck. You may be a schemer, but your heart is in the right place.”

  The half-elf’s face softened into a heavy, humbled smile. “Thank you.”

  Mother gave a final nod, and we stepped back into the sunlight.

  Sandy walked beside me, smirking. “I would’ve gone for the sword with the blinking eye.”

  I giggled, clutching my squirrel. “This is better.”

  Together, we left

  the little stall behind, the red tail flickering in the corner of my eye like a secret flame..