𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 𝑰𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑾𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑽𝑬, the archivist herself can be heard scuttling from one display to the next, checking up on her artifacts and making mental notes of what needs to be recategorized. She isn't too far away -- a room or two perhaps -- but there is a more immediate presence. Bright eyes peer down from the second floor's landing, trained on Julie in the foyer.
Jane could never truly be mistaken for a little girl, inexpertly made and often falling apart. Even now, as she leans out to get a better look, one of her arms drops from its socket, landing with an uncanny clatter at Julie's feet. "Oh--" Jane gasps, trying to duck out of sight, but there's nowhere to hide now that she's been seen.
She must be. Where else would such strong magic reside?
And she will not suspect our presence?
Not in the least.
Jane had brought Lady Blanche Rabbit and The Good Dragon to school. It was their turn out of the toybox, after all, and she had two whole empty seats next to her. After kissing her mother bye-bye for the day, she spent a good many minutes arranging a few books on the chairs so that The Good Dragon could see over the desk. He was even shorter than Jane, after all, and even the smallest, fluffiest student deserved to see the board.
Through the bustle and chatter, a bell tinkled, signaling the start of class. Obediently, the students quieted down and faced the front where Miss Lenore stood besides her own grown-up sized desk.
“Good morning, little farm animals!”
The class answered in a variety of animal sounds. including Jane in her own little voice. She was the smallest in the class by far, but she’d at least try to keep up with the others.
“Whoa, that’s a lot of animals out on the farm today! Let’s see.” She raised a hand as if to shield her eyes from the sun, making a show of counting the number of students. “Let me check. Are all my grumpy goats here? Hello, grumpy goats?”
A table of five children sat below a laminated drawing of a goat. The children baa’ed.
“Good job. Now how about my captivating cows? Are all my captivating cows present?”
Another table moo’ed and lowed.
“And my pleasant piggies?”
Oinking from the respective team.
“All right, looks like everyone is here but -- wait. Where are my cheeky chickens?”
Jane in the back pulled Lady Blanche Rabbit into her chest, unsure if it was really necessary to cluck out loud. She was the only one at the table, even though there were other empty seats at the other three locations. It was clear she was present.
Miss Lenore, however, seemed to decide that it wasn’t good enough. She raised a hand to her ear, and raised an eyebrow. “Huh. That’s strange. I didn’t hear any cheeky chickens, and I know we have one. Where’s my last chicken hiding?”
Jane flushed, and buried her face in the rabbit. She inhaled, half-wishing to disappear before Miss Lenore said anything else when --
“We were not hiding! We were simply late.”
All eyes shot to the front, including Jane’s. There stood two taller kids, one with a shock of white hair and blue as can be, and the other one had hair so rad that it made her think a little bit of a volcano.
Neither of them had backpacks, but the blue one handed Miss Lenore a slip of paper. “I do beg your forgiveness,” he said. “We got lost on the way here from … um.” They looked to at the red one, who seemed to be busy scanning the classroom to help.
Then, after a moment, the red one realized, and piped up, searching for words. “From...the office.”
“Yes -- yes the office. We are new here.”
“Yes. New students.”
“In your class.”
“This class.”
“And we are cheeky chickens indeed.”
Miss Lenore said nothing for a moment. She looked at them both. The blue one, with their heavy black coat, and the red one with their thick, dark glasses. She had never looked so lost, and Jane found herself wondering if these were even kids at all. They looked almost like cartoons brought to life, with how brightly they were colored. Within moments, however, Miss Lenore collected herself and nodded. “It says here your names are Bellroc and Skrael?”
The pair nodded in turn. Bellroc was the red one. Skrael, the blue.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Foolish mortal,” Bellroc declared. “Those are our names. First, last, and only.”
“Well!” Miss Lenore gasped, just as Skrael elbowed Bellroc in the side. “I don’t know what your parents taught you, but we don’t use insults here.”
“What?” they hissed, eyes on Skrael, then, realizing their mistake, they turned back to Miss Lenore with gritted teeth. “Oh. Excuse me. Our … parents … told me I have to learn to be nicer.”
“Which is why we are here,” added Skrael.
“Yes. We are here. To learn.”
Miss Lenore fumbled. “Right. Of course.”
“Now, good instructor, teach us to be, as you say, cheeky chickens.”
Miss Lenore coughed, and nodded, suddenly turning bubbly and bright once more and turned to the class. “Excellent. We do actually have some space available in our chicken coop. Do I have a volunteer to help these two find their seats?”
At the table, the other two kids looked pointedly away. Jane found herself the only one still facing forward, if half-hidden behind a stuffed rabbit. She still struggled to speak, but, with more strength than needed to push a mountain, she managed to lift one of Lady Blanche Rabbit’s hands.
Miss Lenore clapped. “Excellent job, Jane. Kids, why don’t you two go over there and let Jane help you get ready. I have to, um. I have to go ask a few questions. Can you all sit tight for ten minutes?”
The class all nodded.
“Great job! Now, you two go get your seats and I’ll be right back.”
“We can see the chairs clearly ourselves,” Bellroc announced.
“Of course. I see you're two very clever kids.”
And with that, Miss Lenore made her way out one door. In came a high school student, decked out in dark colors and countless bracelets.
“All right, animals. You know the drill. No noise, or else I tell. Okay?”
“Okay, Sam,” the kids intoned.
Sure enough, Sam dropped into Miss Lenore’s chair, slapped a pair of headphones on, and began to bob their heads to music. Skrael made a note to inspect their music-making device later, but Bellroc was already on their way across the room. He rushed to catch up.
All eyes were on the pair as they made their way to the table furthest from the board, backed by a bookcase and a row of cubbies with children’s names on them. Jane, afraid of being teased for having two stuffed animals that day, stood up to clear off The Good Dragon’s seat of books and hide him carefully away in her little cubby.
“I’ll see you at lunch. Be good, and I love you,” she whispered, and kissed his forehead before turning back to see the two new kids standing over her chair.
“What’s that?” Skrael asked.
“It looks like some sort of child’s toy,” said Bellroc.
“This is a child’s place of work. Everything here is a child’s toy.” Ignoring the stares, Skrael reached out to grab the toy by the ear, but he’d barely reached it when --
“Don’t touch her!” Jane darted over, scooping up the rabbit and squeezing her tight. “She doesn’t like being touched by strangers.”
Skrael chuckled, but Bellroc leaned forward, inspecting the rabbit. “Does she? This toy has feelings and preferences?”
“Yeah.” Jane nodded, looking down to smooth out the rabbit’s fur. “Her name is Lady Blanche Rabbit. She’s kind of shy, but she likes to brush her ears, and her favorite food is star-shaped sprinkles, and her dad is the king of a secret forest. She came here to save her people, but she has to do it in disguise.”
“Fascinating.” They stood up, pulling Skrael in close to whisper. “Do you know what this means, Skrael?”
“That this is going to be hilarious?”
“No-- you fool. Focus. This child has trapped the soul of a noble in her toy.”
Skrael’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Bellroc. “An infant necromancer.”
Bellroc grinned. “Or a warlock.”
“Either way, useful.”
“Indeed, and --”
“Excuse me,” Jane said, finally drawing their attention back to the room. “We’re not allowed to tell secrets in class. It makes people feel left out.”
Skrael put on their best smile. “Of course. You must forgive us, we are still new to the ways of this world.”
Jane nodded. “I understand. My mom’s from Europe. She says it’s hard to get used to new places. Are you from Europe?”
A pause. Then, Bellroc nodded. “Yes….we’re from Europe. How clever of you to know.”
Jane smiled. “That’s so cool. I bet you know a lot of languages. Um. You can sit next to me, if you want. There’s two chairs right there.”
In fact, there were four. Bellroc and Skrael chose the ones directly across from Jane, and grinned. “You probably know a lot about this place, don’t you, Jane?” Bellroc asked.
She nodded. “I know a little bit, yeah.”
“And, seeing as we are new and From Europe, you would not be against teaching us, would you?”
Another nod, more hesitant. “If you want, I can teach you.”
“We promise not to touch your Lady Blanche,” Skrael added.
“Lady Blanche Rabbit,” Jane corrected. “She likes her full name to be used.
Skrael snickered. “A more than understandable request. Lady Blanche Rabbit, it is a pleasure.” He inclined his head into a mocking bow.
Jane manipulated the rabbit’s hand to make it wave back. “She can’t talk, but I think she thinks you’re cool.”
Another snicker. “Lady Blanche Rabbit, you have no idea.”
This is Adelaide we're talking about here. Adelaide, Diane, fifth daughter of the Great Lord-Below, the King of All Seas, Princess, or Khanşaiym, depending on who you ask, and Iyesi-to-Be of the Caspian, born with a silver spoon dipped in moonlight in her mouth, raised in a glass palace of finery Mankind would never know, fed the most fragrant delicacies, the days she behaved, anyway, expected t—
Of course she's gonna dress formally.
All the delicate blue silk and ruffles she's doused in come in handy, too, to distract her twitchy fingers as the child waddles up to her. Her smile is stiff, barely there, begging to fly off her mouth and be replaced with whatever sort of expression that might better illustrate how she's feeling.
That is, to say, tortured.
". . . Sugar," she answers, suspicious for no reason, leaning a bit away. "I can't . . . eat cream. Or most breads, for that matter. The last time I did, my insides turned into really sharp sea crystals. And it cut me up from the inside. Sometimes, when I get sick, and I cough especially hard, the blood from that wound still crawls up my throat, and — "
She looks to Ruby, frantic.
Do I? Keep going?
𝑱𝑨𝑵𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑫 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑨𝑵𝑿𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑻𝑶 𝑴𝑬𝑬𝑻 𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑳𝑨𝑰𝑫𝑬 for the longest time now. She was, in Jane's mind, a real life magical princess, a damsel as beautiful as any flower with hair as black as midnight, and a smile like the dawn.
Well.
Jane didn't have words to describe Adelaide's discomfort, but she could sense it all the same. The girl was timid at the best of times, trying to be on her best behavior for the visiting princess, but it was all too clear that she'd said something wrong. It didn't take long to understand why.
As Adelaide went on, Jane's own uncertain smile fell into open horror, mouth hanging agape, sugar bowl threatening to fall from her little hands. tghbRuby moved in quickly, taking up the bowl, and saying, "Sugar it is then, my dear. However much you like, of course. We wouldn't want something so gruesome to happen, now would we?" There was a warning in her voice: No, absolutely do not go on. Are you mad? "And we can stick to far kinder topics. What kind of flowers you like, perhaps." Something safe, that surely not even Adelaide could twist into something horrid -- though, the second that thought entered her mind, Ruby knew that it was only a matter of time.
JANE TODDLES UP, A STUDIOUS EXPRESSION furrowing her brow. She has a few sheets of paper in her hands, clutched tight to her chest as she looks up, chewing on her words before managing to speak. “Excuse me,” she says, her voice quiet and uncertain. “Could you please kneel down for me?”
THREE WEEKS AGO, JANE'S MOTHER had allowed a giant man to stay at their home. She knew this because, even if Ruby had told her to stay away, Jane had pressed her little face up against the windows to watch him garden. She also knew he was a nice man, because the birds would land near him unafraid, and because he seemed to like flowers more than he liked talking.
What she didn't know was the giant man's name, and she was finally brave enough to find out. Jane waited until her mother was busy with another visitor before leaping from a parapet to land on the grass between two flowerbeds, Sir Ducky clutched close to her chest. A fountain burbled merrily off to one side, and the bees went about their day noisily as Jane approached.
"Hello," she said. "Those are foxglove flowers. You can tell because they look like teensy hats for pixies."
(I'm on hiatus shh I'm so totally not here) Jim Lake Jr. is not... fantastic with kids. At least, not the really little ones. But he tries. And sometimes, it leads to a lot of fun! Jane is one such kid that he likes to think he gets along with well. Hopefully, that is, seeing as how he's holding out a paper towel tube for her, with one of his own in his other hand. "Come on, Jane! We have some monsters to battle!" He points to an obstacle course of cardboard cutouts. They're so going down.
unprompted ;
JANE WEARS HER KNIGHT'S-HELM SWEATSHIRT, which isn't as comfortable as her onesie but far easier to wear when running around in the California spring. And while she doesn't know if she's skilled in the art of paper-tube-sword-fighting, there's no time to waste. There are real physical cardboard monsters in front of her, and a brave knight never shirks their duty of defending the world from evil.
She takes the offered weapon from Jim's hand with a glowing smile. "Onward, Sir Jim!" she proclaims, and bends her knees, ready to rush in on his signal and take down the enemy.
Tim has brought Jane a book of very nice, glittery 3-D stickers, in a variety of shapes and themes, from bugs to flowers to ducks, and a new, very lovely crown, befitting royalty.
"Happy birthday, Janey! I love you!"
belated baby birthday time!
She looks at the stickers with eyes as wide as dinner plates, trying to look at them all at once and running her hands over the shapes. In the end, she affixes the crown to her head and leaps up into Tim's arms, shouting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you thank you!" Her sticker album will be full in a week.
DESPITE HER SIZE, JANE TRIES TO LOOK REGAL as her mother as she takes a grand bow and holds her hand out, palm up. “May I have the pleasure of this dance?” Ruby herself stood off to the side, watching distantly as music drifted down from the ballroom’s shadowed ceiling. The unseen musicians plucked up a slow, simple waltz, easy enough for even Jane to handle.
