Splat.

            The snowball smacked me square in the chest as I was preparing one of my own. I brushed it off with my free hand, but the snow was already melting and soaking through the thick shirt I was wearing, chilling my skin underneath. I lobbed my projectile before ducking behind a large pile of snow on the side of the street. As I crouched down, the pile above me exploded in a muffled rustle as Edison leaped through it as high as his stumpy legs could propel him. He landed and shook himself off, showering me with what snowy fluff hadn't originally fallen on me in the attack. I dusted myself off as I stood back up.

"Hey, using Edison is cheating! You cheater!" I called out to Nate as I walked towards him. Edison bounded behind me, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. Nate laughed, throwing his head back. Small snowflakes were starting to drift down again, landing lightly on his face and disappearing.

“That was him, I had nothing to do with it!” He shouted back, lobbing another handful of snow high into the air at me. I was ready this time, and ducked out of the way.  Edison jumped up to try and grab it in his mouth, but it instead fell onto his head in a muffled plop. I scooped up a handful and packed it tight as I straightened up, ready to retaliate. I heard the door behind me opened up, and groaned.

            “Adelaide, I need you back in here now please.” An average sized, pale looking man with disheveled hair stood at the entrance of the door, holding it open with one slender hand. His eyes bugged behind his thick glasses, and his shirt was only half tucked in, as if he was in a rush to get out the door for the morning. His voice was soft, but had a definite note of authority, like one who was just giving a gentle but firm reminder. I sighed.

            “Yes, Professor Westen,” I said. I dropped the snowball and flexed my hands to regain some feeling in them after digging in the snow. Edison planted his front feet on my legs, licking some of my fingers in goodbye. Nate whistled him over, waving to me as he walked over the lunch pail he had brought me, now filled with nothing but crumbs.

            “I’ll see you after work. We got a lot of planes grounded today, with the weather recently. I’ll need to get them all ready for winter before they can fly again.” He hesitated slightly. “We all miss you working there. Everyone gets home quicker.” I looked at the ground, saying nothing and shrugging my shoulders. Professor Westen piped up again.

            “Well, my dear sir, what’s done is done. May I suggest that the quicker you get there, the quicker you can leave? Also, dear Adelaide, I’ve told you to call me Alistor.” He smiled a little, wrinkles starting to crease his weathered face. “Now, let’s get out of the snow and the cold, and close this door before the desk ladies shame all of us.” He gestured me in. I climbed the steps, waving back at Nate.

            “I’ll tell your mother when I get home,” I assured him. He nodded, giving the pail to Edison, who dutifully carried it off in his mouth back home. Nate started off the other way. Both of them left blurry tracks as they headed off.

            Once inside, Professor Alistor let the large, heavy door creak shut, cutting off the steady stream of cold air. The fire in the entrance hall flickered, but kept roaring merrily in the fireplace, quickly warming the room back up. The lady at the front desk looked up briefly from her papers to give us a dirty look, before resuming her work. Alistor led me down the corridor, his shoes tapping and my boots dripping and squeaking as we made the long walk to his office, in the very back corner of the building.

            “If you are to continue working here, Adelaide, please refrain from becoming so…wet. It will ruin the books. You must be careful, dear. You should know that by now.” He told me along the way. I looked down at my now soggy boots.

            “Sorry, Professor W—Alistor,” I replied, “I guess I’m just not used to being cooped up inside all day.” I mumbled. He may be old, but his hearing was still sharp.

            “I understand, dear. However, this is the situation you are in, and you must deal with it [TK find more appropriate phrase].” We reached his office, and he took out his ring of keys and unlocked his door. Entering too quickly, the breeze from the door almost knocked over a tall messy stack of papers and journals, but I rushed in and grabbed the top of the teetering stack, scooting it into a more stable position. I quickly scanned the room to make sure nothing else was in immediate danger, because you never knew in his office. It was fairly large, enough for a desk, a sprawling bookshelf, and a small sitting area. However, everything was piled and crammed with books, journals, loose papers, and maps, both rolled up and spread out. To the untrained eye, it looked like a proper mess. But working with him for almost two months I had learned that it was more like…organized chaos. Professor Westen, instantly oblivious to everything as soon as he crossed the threshold, made a beeline through the narrow path from the door to his desk chair and lowered himself into it. His eyes became glued to the books he was reading and the paper he was constructing for his next open lecture. He flipped through a few pages before addressing me.

            “Now, Adelaide, I need you to find me the logging report for the Foothill town pine industry, from era four, year three thirty-two.” I nodded, once I got past the odd phrasing he used for naming years. People hardly ever designated the era, but I suppose you had to in this particular field. I imagined the utter confusion it would cause in the academic community if they didn’t use such designations. I carefully edged around a few unstable stack of books, until I came to the correct pile. Bending over to read the spines, I found what he wanted—at the very bottom. I sighed, blowing a loose strand of hair out of my face. I noticed my hands started stinging a bit as they finally warmed up, and I flexed them as I contemplated how to get the journal without cause a catastrophic chain reaction. I pinched one corner of it, slowly working it out from the stack. It wobbled, but I slowly pulled it out, with success. Smiling to myself, I brought the journal over to Professor Westen, and set it down in front of him. He immediately thrust a scrap of paper at me, never taking his nose from the page.

            “I need these books. They should all be in the library.” I looked at the list. There were at least ten books listed. Before I could stop myself, I made an astonished and confused noise.

            “How do you even know all these books, much less that they’re in the library?” I sputtered. He absently waved me out of the room.

            “When you’ve been here as long as I have, you will remember every title in that room.” I gave him one last confused look as I headed back out of the room and towards the library. By now, I knew at least which section of the round room to head towards. The next part was the hard part. The library had two levels, and the history section took up the entire section on both levels. It took a lot of climbing up and down to find everything. The stack of books slowly grew, most of them thicker than my arm. When I finally finished, almost two hours [TK figure out naming scheme for time] later, I finally took a good look at the stack, and groaned. It was almost as tall as I was. Then I shrugged my shoulders. I might as well get this over with. I started stacking books into my arms, when a small (smaller than me) boy with bright red hair and freckles practically skipped over to me. I groaned again, inwardly this time. I had forgotten he was working today.

            “Miss Sharp, might I help you with this?” He asked brightly, holding out his arms. I tossed the last book on top of my pile.

            “No thank you, Bennet, I have it all. But thank you.” I flashed him a sarcastic smile, which he mistook as a genuine one and smiled radiantly back. This kid was as dense as week old bread.

            “Well, if you need any help, please let me know!” He skittered back to the central circulation desk he was manning, making no attempt to cover up the fact that he was staring at me, his eyes unblinking. I shivered a little, and tottered out of the library as quickly as I could. On my way out, I almost ran into someone, nearly dropping my stack. I quickly swung out of the way, and came practically nose-to-nose with Katherine. I narrowed my eyes.

            “What are you doing here?” I almost spat. “Shouldn’t you have left yet?” She merely flipped her hair at me.

“I leave tomorrow. I just wanted to look up a few last minute things I thought might be helpful. Anyway, shouldn’t you apologize for almost knocking me over? You are so rude sometimes, Adelaide.” She put a hand on her hip. “Anyway, I also wanted to tell you that I found someone else to take care of my Cupcake, so you won’t have to be burdened with such a heavy workload while my parents and I are away.” She made a point to show me how ridiculous that notion seemed. I simply rolled my eyes and shifted the weight of the books.

“Whatever. I need to get back to work now. Nice speaking with you, as always.” I shoved past her and stomped back to the office, my boots echoing off the stone walls. Toeing the door open, I heaved the books onto Professor Westen’s desk. He looked up at me briefly, as if he had forgotten that he had sent me off.

“Oh, yes, thank you.” He said, pulling them towards him, taking off the top book and starting to flip through it. With one hand he thrust a stack of papers and a pen at me. “I’m afraid I am spoiled by your neat handwriting. Would you please transcribe these for me?” He looked up at me and gave me a genuine smile. “After this, you may leave for the day.” I smiled back, taking the stack of papers and settling down into one of the sitting area chairs, and pulled the table up to get started. It was more work about the mountain logging industry. Boring things. I occasionally had to stop to ask him about a word, but I still finished it fairly fast. The more I wrote, the faster and neater I became with the practice. I stood up and stretched out, slightly cramped from bending over and scrawling for so long. I straightened up the stack of papers, checking for ink smudges. There were none this time, and I smiled to myself. And then frowned slightly. I was definitely slowly going insane if a good day consisted of not toppling over any books or smudging any papers. I took the papers back over to his desk.

“Thank you, my dear. You are free to go.” He took the papers, and added them to a growing stack of material teetering on the edge of his desk. I nodded and stooped over to pick up my bag. My eyes grazed across a few random book titles in the stacks, but then stopped on one, close to the top. Curious, I gently pulled it out. Dragons: The Great Ones of the Early Eras, E. 1-3 by Merek Resinfel. I held it up for Professor Westen to see.

“Prof—Alistor, I found another one.” He looked up at me, squinting at the brown leather bound book with the gold lettering. He help up his hand for it, and I deposited it. The book was thick and heavy, and well worn along the edges. He studied it for a moment, flipping through a few pages, before handing it back to me.

“Yes, please take it with you. I will tell you tomorrow where you may deposit it.” He kept his voice low, and his eyes shifted warily behind his thick lenses, but he looked otherwise calm. I knew better though. I nodded, and slipped the book into my back, slung the bag over my shoulder, and headed out the door.

“Good night, Alistor. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said before closing it. Most of the electric lights were turned off, and only a few gas powered wall scones were lit and flickering, giving the hallway an eerie, surreal feeling. I padded down it, trying not to make much noise, even though most everyone had left. The counterwoman at the front was still there, now hammering away at a large clunky machine, which made loud chk chk noises and occasionally a ding! The fire was now embers, glowing red in the sprawling fireplace. I shoved the front doors opened and stepped out into the twilight.

The outside air rushed up to greet me, sending a quick shiver down my spine in welcome. The sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon, and the sky was a deep blue black, with faint pink streaks radiating from the dying light of the sun. Edison was standing at the bottom of the steps and barked once when he saw me. I pulled my bag closer to me, for warmth as much as to protect it, and descended the steps to meet him. He trotted behind my feet as I headed home.

            “Is Nate home?” I asked him idly, to fill the quietness the cold dusk brought to Seaside. He gave me a short growling bark to indicate his displeasure. I nodded absently, more interested in the flickering street lights around me, lighting up a portion of the street, with plenty of dark between them. Perfect for someone to hide in, waiting to attack. My hand gripped the strap on my bag, and I could feel the weight of the book as it thumped gently against my thigh with every step. Edison nudged the back of my leg. I had stopped under one of the street lamps, and the light fell over me warmly. I shook my head. I was being paranoid, but I still picked up the pace and scurried home, with the stumpy dog flopping behind me and occasionally nipping at my heels.

            The front door jingled as I pushed it opened. Mrs. Turner was bent over her sewing machine as usual, sewing together two pieces of lacy fabric.

            “Addie, dear, please use the side door during the day.” She said without looking up.

            “But it’s dark outside.” I replied. She stopped, and looked out the front window, letting out a slightly surprised noise.

            “Oh. Hmm, I didn’t realize. I must have been very much into my work, again. Do you know if Nate will be home soon, sweetheart?” She said. I shook my head.

            “He said there were several grounded planes today.” I replied, and Mrs. Turner sighed and returned to her work.

            “Well, there’s soup on the stove. It’s still warm. I’m also working late to catch up on these orders. Ever since old Kertez passed on, I’ve been getting his old business. It’s a boon and a curse, both.” She shook her head as she passed another piece of fabric through the machine, her foot pressing the pedal up and down in a rhythmic beat. I lumbered over into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl and spoon, and ladled the soup into the bowl. Chicken and onion, by the smell of it. I sat down and starting wolfing it down, suddenly realizing how hungry I was. The hot soup barely touched my tongue. Finished, I washed my dishes, and poured myself a small glass of the pitcher of beer Mrs. Turner always kept in the icebox, mostly for herself. I had recently acquired a taste for it. I took a long draught from it, savoring the thick richness of the stout that was currently occupying the pitcher, and the bitterness in the back of my throat. I tossed the rest back, washed the glass out, and put it away.

            On the way up to my room, I hesitated by the fabric closet, think about if I needed anything from it later on. I decided I didn’t, and hopped up the stairs, two at a time, and into my room. Closing the door behind me, I kicked off my boots and peeled off my socks, wiggling my now-free toes and resting them on the cool floor boards. I sat my bag on my bed and pulled the book out and studied it. It was a very nice book, with an intricately tooled leather cover, and gold on the edges of the thin pages. The inside cover had a scrolling signature across it, and a short note. I looked at it closer. It was addressed to Cassandra, my mother. I slammed the book closed again, and kneeled down, stuffing it under my mattress. I gathered some warm night clothes, deciding to take a quick wash to refresh myself. I felt like I still had a long night to go.

            The water ran down my body, mostly warming me. Dragon breath is definitely warmer, I finally let myself think. I heard a deep, breathy chuckle echo from nowhere.

            Once you have experienced Dragon breath, nothing else is quite as warm, a deep voice radiated out of the air. I also would like to talk to you more than just at night. Even a great creature such as myself gets lonely by themselves.

            “You can never be too careful,” I said out loud. The showering water drowned out most of my voice, but Side’an did not need to hear me to be able to talk to me. We both discovered this the first week I came back home. It did make the dank winter days a little bit brighter. I heard him snort, as I turned the water off and stepped out of the bath tub. I grabbed a clean towel, wrapping it around me before I could get too cold.

I’m sorry, you magnificent beast. Please talk to me. How was your day? I thought as I dried myself off, and smiled as he described his lazy day hunting for fish and studying the ships that sailed past the little outcropping he had found a few miles down the coast from town, plenty safe from prying eyes and malicious intent. I pulled on my clothes and exited the washroom. Nate was just coming up the steps, weary and almost unrecognizable from being covered head to toe in oil. I slapped my hand over my mouth, giggling a little.

“What happened?” I asked. He sighed, but a small smile crossed his mouth.

“The new kid cut a hose, and the engine exploded. Well, it sure seemed like it.” He looked down at himself. “Mom won’t even let me eat until I clean up. I might have tracked some in the house.” I chuckled again.

“Did you at least make him clean up?” Nate laughed this time.

“Of course I did. Little bugger needs to learn from his mistakes. Anyway, I should get started. I’m starving already and this is going to take forever.” He gestured at himself as I stepped to the side to let him into the washroom, then padded back to my bedroom. Edison had jumped onto the bed and was gnawing on a bone, happy and content as a dog should be. Quietly as I could, I eased the door shut, a light click as it shut. My nightdress swished around my ankles as I made my way to my closet. There, nestled in the very back under some random assortment of clothes, I pulled out a random tangle of lightweight, tanned leather. I grabbed a large needle and a spool of thread from the small box on my dresser, and sat down on my bed next to Edison, giving him a pat on the head. His tail wagged once, still concentrating on his bone. I hunkered down, concentrating on my project now, but keeping one ear open to the rest of the house.

            The saddle was very crude, mostly due to my lack of sewing skills. But I figured it would serve the purposes I needed until I could get somewhere where I could inconspicuously place an order for a proper one. The leather in my hand was soft and supple, but not very thick, but it was better than nothing. I had been taking the bits and pieces from Mrs. Turner’s leftover projects that had been tossed back into the fabric closet. I was careful to make sure she didn’t notice it happening, or that she was missing anything. It was slow and tedious work, and I had only just now gotten all the pieces I think I would need. The stitching was uneven, but tight. All in all, it looked pretty terrible. But functional, as I held it up and examined it, taking a few extra pieces and sewing them on the seat, to create extra padding and protection from Side’an’s rough scales. I could still remember how raw my legs were the few days after riding him all night.

            I, however, could barely feel you on my back, small one, I heard him boast to me. I smiled.

            I would expect nothing less from a strong beast like you. I retorted lightly. I could almost hear his laughter, and it made me smile even more, a wide grin spreading across my face. I continued to piece together the saddle, a few strips tied together here and there. Only one more piece, and it would be done. I held it up. It was large enough to fit around one of the plow oxen the farmers on the edge of town owned. Ok, well sometimes people rode those, so I suppose it wouldn’t be too conspicuous to have one.

            Are you finished with that blasted thing? And must I wear it all the time? I feel like it will be like wearing that blasted chain all over again. Side’an snorted. I started folding it up to put it back in the closet.

            I need to fashion a harness so I don’t fall off of you. And it’s mostly for my protection. You know, so your scales don’t rub my skin off? And no, we can take it off when I’m not riding you. I calmly answered him. I could hear Nate rustling around in the washroom, and the door open. I could also hear Mrs. Turner coming up the stairs. The others will want me to be social tonight. I am sorry to cut our conversation short. It was most interesting. I told him.

            I still do not understand you humans, but I will not put you in danger. The moon is dark tonight; I think I might take wing for a while. Try to get some rest tonight, small one.

            Be careful, I told him, and he snorted at me as I felt him take off into the clouds. Sighing, I pulled on some woolen socks to keep my feet warm, and padded back downstairs. Nate was already down there, wolfing down his meal as fast as I had, reaching for seconds as I sat down at the table with him and his mother.

            “How was work?” She was asking him. He shrugged as he slurped down another spoonful.

            “Same as usual. Derek decided to cover me with motor oil, but I guess you already saw that.” Mrs. Turner pursed her lips slightly.

            “Yes, cleaning up after you. Most definitely.” Nate blushed slightly and shoved another spoonful in his mouth. She turned to me.

            “And what about you sweetheart? How are you holding up with Professor Alistor?”

            “Sometimes I think he’s in another world.” I say, rolling my eyes a bit. She laughs.

            “Oh, he’s always been like that.” She waves her hand, dismissing the manner. I was curious, however.

            “You knew him? I thought you never really associated with the Institute.” I asked. The question seemed to fluster her slightly.

            “Ah, well—from meeting him through your mother a few times, I just, um, seemed to get the impression.” She quickly glanced up at the clock on the wall, the pendulum slowly swinging back and forth. “Oh, well, look at the time! I’ll need my sleep if I am to keep up with all this extra business. Really, I should hire an assistant.” She muttered to herself as she quickly stood up from the kitchen table and puttered away, her blonde locks bouncing with her steps. Nate and I gave each other a weird look as he finished his supper. As he got up to wash his dishes, I attempted to take leave back to my room, but I wasn’t quite quick enough.

            “So, are you going to tell me tonight?” He asked me quietly as he washed his bowl out. I stopped in the doorway, hesitating.

            “No.”

            “Well, why not?”

            “I just can’t, Nathan. I’ve told you that.” He was silent. I could feel the slight scowl on his face as he dried the bowl off, his back to me.

            “That’s not good enough. Why won’t you tell me, Addie? You used to tell me everything.” He added, a sad note in his voice. I sighed, unsure of what to do. I really did want to tell him. I almost did, on several occasions. But I chickened out. I was scared, I had admitted to myself. And I didn’t want to put him in danger.

            “Because this time it’s dangerous. It’s for your own safety. Please, Nate, please stop asking me. If you do, I’m afraid I just might.” I looked at him, straight in his grey eyes. He stared me down back.

            “Fine. Have it your way.” He slammed the bowl down and shoved past me. I felt awful. I barely talked to him anymore, since I had gotten back. But it wasn’t all my fault. Yeah, stealing that plane had lost me my job. And my new one was nowhere near him. But all he ever wanted to know from me anymore was where I had been, what exactly I had done.

            And it wasn’t like I could exactly hide it. I was dirty and bruised and bloody, and worn raw from riding Side’an bareback. I mostly slept those first few days back. Either for real, or just to avoid the never-ending barrage of questions. I pushed my hair out of my face, and slowly made my way back up to my room. Edison was still on my bed, but he stared at me a moment before jumping off the bed and trotting out my door, to Nate’s room. I stuck my tongue out at him, childishly, and returned to my thoughts.

            In fact, the only person who never asked me questions was Professor Westen. He came to visit three days after I came back. I remember, because I was asleep, for real this time, after a long night talk with Side’an. I had just found out I could reach out to him. I had cracked my eyes open, afraid to see who was in my room, ready to interrogate me. My grandfather had even come, if only to curtly tell me I would not, in fact, be returning to work.

            Instead Professor Westen was sitting in a chair that had been placed in my room, staring out my window where the dim sunlight was filtering through. He had a calm, almost absent look on his face, as if he was in deep thought. His hands were folded neatly over his not so neat clothes, his wispy white hair swirling around his head. His glasses were balancing on the tip of his nose. My first thought was to push them back up, but he looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to break him out of his trance.

            I sat up, and his eyes darted to my face.

            “Ah, good. You’re finally awake, child.” He said in a soft voice, a light smile on his lips. “I’ve been informed that you are without a job, which is most unfortunate. So I’ve come to offer you one.” I sat up more, rubbing my eyes. He pushed his glasses up, leaning forward in his seat. His gaze suddenly became more stern, focused and calculating. “I understand you might be confused. Do not worry; I will give you time to think it over. But be warned—this will not be an easy job. It might even be dangerous.” His voice dropped low for a moment, but then returned to normal. “Anyway, I need a new assistant, and you seem like the perfect match. I can tell you have your mother’s enthusiasm for knowledge.” He winked at me. “And her lovely looks.” I blinked at him trying to comprehend what just happened. But he was already standing up, putting his hat on his head and walking out the door. He paused at the entrance, his voice low and soft again. “And do tell your wing-ed friend to be careful out there. The townsfolk are deceptively keen about their surroundings. Not to mention your grandfather, among other…unsavory characters.” And with that, he lumbered out the door.

            Here and now, I lay back onto my pillow. The down cradled my head softly. I pulled the covers up around my neck, creating a warm barrier between me and the chilly night. Frost was starting to creep up my window in tiny intricate patterns. It was beautiful and mesmerizing. Then, like every night since I came back, I started singing the lullaby Side’an had taught me, up on that mountain, overlooking the town [TK add this into book one, and create lullaby in dragon tongue {ris: tongue, language}]. The soft words washed over me, and I could hear him gently harmonizing with me, as he glided through the clouds, high in the sky. His voice reverberated through my head, like a familiar buzz, keeping me company. I stared up at the ceiling, feeling my eyes getting heavy.

            “What are you singing?” Nate hissed from my door. I shot up in my bed, completely taken by surprise. I stared at him, wide eyed. “Were you singing in a different language? When in the world could you speak different languages? Is that something you learned…while you were away?” I felt my face hardened. I slung my feet over the edge of the bed, got up, and marched over to the door. Gripping it hard, I leaned in close to his face, scowling, practically baring my teeth at him. A white hot rage was starting to well up inside me, but not from me.

            “For your information, I learned it from work. And I would most appreciate it if you would stop interrogating me about where I’ve been. I’ve you—I am not going to tell you!” I hissed back, loudly, before slamming the door in his astonished and scared face. The angry warmth in my chest faded. I waited until I heard Nate’s feet padding back to his room, and Edison whine at him. Then I got back up, shoved myself back into my bed, and squeezed my eyes shut. Sleep didn’t come for a long time.

            Morning came too soon. Feeble light peeked out from the grey clouds and through my window, coaxing my eyes open. It would be a cold day, judging by the frost patterns that remained on the glass overnight, and Side’an would be spending it saving his energy. I would not have him for company today. I slid my hand under my pillow. My pocket watch was still there, where I kept it for good now. I felt like it kept me grounded at night. Groaning, I planted my feet on the cold wood floor, barely even noticing it. The cold didn’t seem to bother me much anymore. I pulled on my work clothes, a blouse and corset and thick leggings, boots, and a long, dark green skirt with red trim that I only wore on days like these. It was recognizable, but still blended in with everyone. I brushed my hair back, and pulled it into a loose bun. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was not fond of this me, but it was necessary for the time being. I grabbed my bag with the book and treaded downstairs.

            Nate was eating breakfast already. He looked my way as I headed into the kitchen, but immediately looked away and down to his bowl of porridge. I could hear his mother already at work in the front. I grabbed myself a hunk of bread, and a thick slice of ham from the icebox, and made my way out the side door, ignoring Nate. Edison was sitting under the table, hoping for some scraps from him.

            The walk to the Institute was brisk, but manageable. A slight breeze swirled my skirt every once in a while, trying to tangle around my legs. I could count on one hand the times I had worn a skirt since I had lived with the Turners. Since I had still been in school, even. A lot of people would give me strange looks, but no one ever said anything. Not that I ever cared. Trousers were so much easier to walk in, with no extra fabric trying to stop your legs from moving. I almost tripped on a few occasions, even now. My boot heels clicked against the cobble stones, which had been cleared of excess snow by sweepers during the early hours of the morning, before the sun had even risen. Few people were out selling their wares this morning, and even fewer people were shopping. The ones that decide to venture out today were hurrying through the cold, wrapped up to their noses in fur and wool. The vendors were all huddled over, cups of steaming hot drinks. I stepped up to one of the stalls, an older man selling hot hand pies. He chuckled slightly under his heavy coat, his hands wrapped around a tin cup of hot cider.

            “Nothing much bothers you, eh?” He said, gesturing to my lack of coat, only a light jacket. I smiled and shrugged.

            “Nothing much,” I agreed. He beamed and picked up a steaming pie, oozing with red goop from the top. “How about a fresh cherry hand pie for the young lady, to keep her as warm on the inside as the outside?” I smiled, pulling out a golden denz [tk currency names] and handing it to him.

            “Cherry is my favorite. I thought they were out of season already?” He took the coin from me, depositing the warm pie in my hands.

            “The last batch. My wife has been portioning them out most stingily. Enjoy, my dear!” We waved at each other as I walked along, happily munching on my pie. It really did warm me up. I finished it just as I was getting to the stairway of the Institute. I licked the last of the cherry filling from my fingers as I went to open the door, but I paused. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow of some sort dart behind one of the pillars. I turned, but saw nothing. Thinking nothing of it, I opened the door and let myself into the warm interior.