The world spun in place, jerked around, bobbed up and down, then came to a stop. Alice opened her eyes a peep. She could have sworn she was in a tavern for a second, but as her eyes adjusted, the world focused into a dormitory. Rows of simple cots lined the room. On the far end, moonlight streamed through fluttering window curtains.

  It was then she realized she was in mid-thought, and because she had no clue what the first half of her thought was, she had no hope of completing the rest of the idea. In a word, she had been dreaming. Yes, that was it. She grasped at the threads of the dream, they slipped through her fingers like wet noodles, so she let it go—nothing to do about that.

  She sat up and instantly regretted it. Alice had been through some pretty nasty hangovers before, but not like this. In fact, it didn’t feel much like a hangover at all. It wasn’t her head that was sore; it was everything else. Her right arm was even wrapped up in a cast. It itched like hell in there. She squirmed inside the casing to no avail. Apart from that, she was dressed in a clean change of clothes.

  She tried to stand. Her left foot was also apparently bandaged up as if sprained. She tapped her heels. No pain, nothing. It couldn’t hurt to remove it. She undressed her foot bandages, but why stop there? Piece by piece, she pulled the cast off her arm until she was whole and free again.

  Ah, much better.

  She arched her back, stretching like a cat.

  Now, then. Where the hell was she?

  The door opened to an empty hallway. A staircase ascended into darkness on one end of the hall, and light spilled out of a doorway on the other end. More curiously, the air was filled with… cheerful singing? Leg muscles still sore, Alice strode to the doorway, intent on finding out what the heck was going on.

  This next room was huge. Two rows of short tables stretched across the room’s length. At the far end lay a taller table, and hanging on the wall above that table was a painting of a 12-year-old Francesca Filch, Daughter of Greg, looking all noble and smug in an elegant white dress.

  The room was populated by dozens of very short, young-looking people milling about carrying plates and utensils. Children. That’s the word. Dozens of them. And they were all singing or humming along to a merry tune: “It’s a hard knock life, for us. It’s a hard knock life for…”

  None of them had noticed Alice.

  Yup. She was still dreaming.

  A grown man stood out like a giant beanstalk amongst the children, his back toward her.

  “Arthur?” Alice said.

  The little heads swiveled around, and forty pairs of eyes blinked at her.

  “It’s the elf lady,” said a girl.

  “You think she’s magic?” said an orc boy.

  “Are you an angel?” asked a little halfling girl.

  After the initial shock, the children swarmed around her like ducklings over a piece of bread.

  “What’re you doing out of bed?” Arthur asked, relief in his eyes. He tried to squeeze through the children, then thought better of it.

  “I’m not sleepy anymore, I guess,” Alice said, speaking over the crowd.

  “Can you grant wishes?” asked a girl.

  “Why are your eyes purple?” said another.

  “Could I have a strand of your hair?” said a dwarf boy

  “But your injuries,” Arthur said in disbelief. “You had a broken arm.”

  “Really? No one told me.” Alice flapped her arm around like a bird and hopped on one leg. “Seems fine.”

  The kids stared at her as though she might actually take off.

  “Now, now, children, don’t bother our guest,” said a motherly voice. “Heaven knows she’s been through enough.” A short, stout woman parted the sea of children. Her grey hair was tied up in a bun, and she was dressed like a nun, though it wasn’t the same as Marion’s getup. “Back to your places, everyone. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  The kids groaned but soon returned to setting the dining tables.

  As the commotion settled down, Elyas’s voice came in from the hallway. “Is it dinner yet? Heard the singing stop and thought…”

  Elyas stopped short when he saw Alice. “Ah, good to see you on your feet. Wait. Something’s missing.” He held out a finger as he appraised Alice.

  “It’s the casts,” Arthur said. “They’re off.”

  “Ah.” Elyas nodded. Then his eyes scrunched. “Why?”

  “Heavens, he’s right,” said the nun. “Shouldn’t you be in bed? Here, sit.” She grabbed Alice by her good arm and dragged her to the nearest seat.

  “I’m fine,” Alice said, “no, really.” She shook off the lady’s arm and took a step back. It might have been rude, but she had had enough of being manhandled. She tapped her left foot on the floor. “See, I’m okay.”

  “But thanks, though,” she hastened to add. “Anyway, a few questions. Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? And what the hell is going on?” Her eyes darted around the place. The children were settling into their seats, now set with plates and utensils. Thank Greg they weren’t singing anymore. It was creepy.

  “Where are my manners?” said the woman, “I’m Ingrid and this is the Sisters of Chastity Orphanage.” She curtsied.

  “She’s a friend of Elyas’s, apparently,” Arthur said. He gave Elyas a glance out of the corner of his eye. “They’re very generously letting us hide out here for the night. Thanks again, by the way,” he said to Ingrid.

  “It’s no trouble, dear. Anything to repay Elyas for all he’s done for us.” She beamed at him.

  Elyas returned an embarrassed smile.

  Repay? There’s even more to this guy than Alice thought.

  “Since you’re feeling better, why don’t you join us for dinner?” Ingrid said.

  Finally, some good news. “That would be fantastic,” Alice said.

  “Splendid. It’ll be ready in a minute. Be with you in a jiffy.” Ingrid went back to the kitchen.

  As soon as Ingrid was out of earshot, Alice grabbed Arthur and Elyas by the wrists and dragged them out to the hall. “Would one of you explain to me just what is going on here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  “You don’t remember?” Arthur said.

  “I remember smoking fern and playing poker,” said Alice, “Or was that a memory from college?”

  “Nope. That one was real,” Elyas said.

  “Then how…?”

  A pitter-patter of footsteps from behind made Alice turn just in time to get licked in the face by a wolf.

  She laughed as she tried to push him back. “That’s right, I remember now. It was all thanks to you. Sit.”

  Shaggy dropped on his hind legs.

  Alice rubbed his head. “Good boy.”

  “Yup. He was a real Gregsend today,” Arthur said, “He saved our butts too.”

  “How did you guys manage to get yourselves out of that pickle?” Alice asked.

  “Uh…”

  “We kicked ass, took names,” Elyas said, “Ran out of there like they had the plague and snuck our way here. End of story.”

  “Yeah, basically,” Arthur said.

  “More importantly…” Elyas poked Alice’s right arm. “Care to explain how you crash through a roof like a fallen angel one moment and the next walk around like nothing happened?”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Alice shrugged. “Elven physiology?”

  “Yeah? You must be some variety of elf I’ve never heard of.”

  “Lighten up, will you?” Arthur said, then turning to Alice: “I don’t care if it’s dark magic or a divine blessing; I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  Elyas didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m glad I’m okay too,” Alice said, “though I don’t think Greg would go out of His way to help little old me.” It had to be elven stuff, that’s all. She always healed fast.

  A bell rang from the kitchen, and the children cheered.

  “That’s our cue,” Elyas said.

  They sat at the big people’s table with the rest of the sisters. Alice ended up right underneath the Francesca painting. Fran looked happy in the painting, but Alice didn’t envy her. Alice sat through many a painting session with her through the years, watching as her friend posed for hours at a time. And that was just the beginning of celebrity-hood.

  A pair of nuns came out of the kitchen carrying two wide circular baskets. They placed the baskets on the table, lifting the lids. One basket contained a few loaves of bread, while the other had three fried fish. The other tables were empty, and there seemed to be no other food on the way. That can’t be all, right?

  Ingrid tapped the cowbell with a spatula. “Settle down, everyone. Let us all take a moment to give thanks to the Lord.”

  The kids closed their eyes as Ingrid led the prayer.

  Alice took the time to count the children, 42 in all. She looked over to Arthur, who winced. Elyas only shrugged.

  “…in Francesca’s name, Amen.” Ingrid clapped her hands. “Right. Everybody, line up with your plates.”

  The children formed a long line.

  “Miss Ingrid,” Arthur said, “how exactly does this divide between this many?”

  “Don’t you worry, dear,” said Sister Ingrid, “As our honored guests, you three get first pick.”

  “We each get one slice of bread,” said the boy at the front of the line, “then she lets us take turns smelling the fish.”

  “Shush, you.” Ingrid put a finger to her lips.

  A sharp pang pierced Alice’s chest. This time a week ago, she would have been eating a two-course dinner with cranberry juice and apple pie for dessert.

  “You know, I wasn’t that hungry in the first place.” Alice pushed the baskets away from her.

  “No need to be shy.” Ingrid pushed the two baskets back to her.

  “No, it’s true. The fall ruined my appetite.” Alice put the lids back on the baskets and pushed them toward the first child in line. “You know, I think I’m feeling tired again. Probably not fully healed yet. Better go back to rest.”

  Ingrid lifted the lids, and her eyes widened. “What on Irth?”

  “What is it?” said Elyas.

  “I’ll be in the infirmary if you need me,” said Alice, standing up.

  “Alice, wait. Look!” Arthur said.

  The baskets were filled to the brim with bread and fish. They were nearly overflowing. Alice’s mouth hung open.

  The little boy at the front of the line brightened up as he saw the fish. “I didn’t know you was magic!”

  “I told you so,” said the boy behind him.

  “Are you a witch?” asked a girl.

  “Watch your language,” Ingrid snapped at the children. She turned back to Alice and whispered, “Are you a witch? Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

  Alice stammered, “Um, I didn’t…”

  “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” Ingrid cupped Alice’s hands. “Words will never be enough to express our gratitude.”

  The words caught in Alice’s lips.

  Ingrid didn’t wait for her reply. She immediately began serving generous portions to the children one by one.

  The news traveled down the line, and soon the entire place was in an uproar.

  Alice, Arthur, and Elyas traded bewildered looks.

  “We need to talk,” Elyas said.

  ~~

  Leaving Shaggy behind to a feast of fish, the three of them slipped away from the dining hall, ran upstairs, and piled themselves behind a door. First thing Alice noticed was the gaping hole in the roof courtesy of hers truly. She was lucky to have landed on one of the two beds. Or would she have fared as well had she landed on the floor?

  “You have some explaining to do,” Elyas said as the door clicked shut behind him.

  Alice threw up her hands. “I have absolutely no idea what that was.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m not asking you to believe me,” Alice said.

  “That doesn’t mean you didn’t lie about not knowing what that was.”

  “It does if I wasn’t.”

  “I’m sorry, who’s lying about knowing what now?” Arthur said.

  “I don’t know, you tell us.” Elyas crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow to Alice.

  Arthur looked at her expectantly.

  She put her arms down. “I don’t know, it’s just…” She started pacing around the room.

  “You can tell us anything,” Arthur said, sitting on the good bed.

  She took a deep breath. “Since I was little, I’ve been witness to a few strange… occurrences.”

  “Go on,” Elyas said.

  “The quick healing I always chalked up to the elf thing. But then there was that time I took in a bird with a broken wing. It flew out my window the next day.”

  “I heard that birds had lighter bones so they could heal quickly,” Arthur said. “And so they could fly and stuff.”

  “Let her finish,” Elyas said.

  “And then there was that time with the wine.” Alice sat next to Arthur on the cot. She looked up at the starry sky as she recalled that moment. “One day, I found my father in the cellar - said they were all out of wine. He was frazzled to say the least. I didn’t know what he meant because right next to him, I saw a bottle of wine. All the bottles were filled with wine.”

  “So your father…” said Arthur.

  “He could be a little muddleheaded at times, but he wasn’t anyone’s fool. He knew what he saw. But I was a kid; I didn’t know any better. So, I let myself forget about it.”

  A cold wind drafted through the hole. Alice shivered. She’d give anything to be back in her warm bed right now.

  Then, without warning, Arthur draped a blanket over her shoulders.

  She looked up at his hard face, softened by concern.

  “I knew it,” Elyas said all of a sudden, “Something was off with this whole thing from the beginning.”

  “What do you mean?” Arthur asked.

  “I mean her. Why would they go through all this trouble to arrest one girl who stuck her nose up their business?”

  “Yeah, but they seemed surprised to see me back there at Charlie’s,” Alice said.

  “That’s right,” Arthur said, “That mustache guy has some kind of a death grudge against me.”

  Elyas shook his head. “Still doesn’t explain these knights of the round table running around town waving fliers with her face on them. And burning everything along the way.”

  “Maybe it’s because she’s magic,” Arthur said.

  “We don’t know that,” Alice said, “If they knew I was magic, they never let on. Only person who knew was Dad. Well, him and maybe…”

  “Who?” Elyas said.

  Marion. What was her involvement? She was there when Dad adopted her, she was there when he raised her, and she was there when he died, having been the first one to find them in his room. Helped pawn off the cradle, too.

  Alice lay splat on the bed, arms limp. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

  No one said anything for a while. Crickets chirped from outside. Muffled laughter and cheer floated up to them from downstairs.

  “Could you do it again?” Arthur said all of a sudden.

  “Which part?” Alice said.

  “Everything. The wine, the food.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What else can you do?”

  Alice sat up. “What’s with the questions?”

  “It’s nothing,” Arthur said, “An old friend once told me that magic effects should be replicable and deterministic.”

  “That sounds like the opposite of magic,” Alice said.

  “No, he could be right,” Elyas said, “Wanna check?”

  ~~

  They found the dining hall the way they left it. Joy and laughter filled the air. It made the room feel warmer in a way. Maybe this place was better than her bedroom after all.

  They found platefuls of bread and fish awaiting them on the adults’ table.

  “There you are,” Ingrid said through a mouthful of bread. “Where’ve you been?”

  “The latrine,” Elyas said.

  Arthur elbowed him

  The three of them huddled over to the very end of the table. Shaggy briefly raised an eye, then went back to gorging on an entire fish.

  Elyas proffered his plate to Alice. “Go forth and multiply.”

  Alice took one of the basket lids and covered Elyas’s dish with it. “What do I do next?”

  “Do some verbal and somatic components?” Arthur said. “I don’t know, that’s what wizards always do.”

  Alice twinkled her fingers above the dish and said, “Multipius Breadus and Fishus.” She lifted the cover and... disappointment.

  “Maybe she said it wrong,” Elyas said.

  “I didn’t even say anything the first time.”

  A boy walked up to Ingrid. “Can I have some more fish, Sister Ingrid?”

  “Why, but of course, little one,” said Ingrid.

  An eyepatch covered the boy’s left eye, and he was so thin Alice could see his ribcage through his ragged shirt. It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. She always knew that, so why didn’t she ever do anything? And now here she was, with the latent power to make these kids’ lives better, and she couldn’t even do it on command.

  She stood. Maybe it was time to try something different. That bird didn’t heal itself, that she was sure of. “Hey there, little fella,” she said, “how’s the food?”

  “It’s great, miss,” the boy said, “Thanks!” He gave the single brightest smile Alice had ever seen on a living being.

  “Can I touch you, for just a sec?” Alice reached out to his face and cupped his missing eye socket in her hand. She concentrated all her might into… she didn’t know what it was, but she did visualize that smile as she focused.

  Ingrid saw what she was doing and caught on. Her eyes widened in anticipation.

  Alice finally released the boy. “So, how do you feel?”

  The boy blinked his eye at her. “Can I go now?”

  Alice nodded.

  The boy joined his friends who were geeking out over him getting touched by the magical elf girl.

  “Nice try,” said Elyas, “Maybe next time you can help regrow missing limbs.”

  “Don’t mind him,” Arthur said, “It was a valiant effort.”

  “Doesn’t matter, it didn’t work.” Alice sank back into the chair.

  “Then let’s figure out something that will.

  They ate their meals in a hushed huddle, brainstorming ideas to test out her magic, each plan wackier than the last. Arthur listed different food types she could try her multiplication ability on. Alice wanted to try turning water into wine again, though that was mostly because she could use a drink right now. Elyas suggested she jump from a tall building and think happy thoughts to see if she could fly.

  It wasn’t long until the children finished their supper and Ingrid had them go about their last chores for the night. Some were on dish duty. Others on cleaning. Most of them were done and off to bed. But all of them had full bellies and smiles on their faces.

  At that moment, Alice’s brain chose to juxtapose several horrifying, bloody images on top of the kids’ smiles. She gulped. “The inquisition. What if they find us?”

  The life drained from Arthur’s face. “No. I wouldn’t let them. Not an orphanage. Not to children.” A piece of bread broke in his hand.

  “Relax, you two,” said Elyas. “This is only for one night. We’ll change hideouts every day to elude them.”

  “And then what?” Alice said.

  “Like I said. Gather information.” He plucked a piece of fish with his fork and plunged it into his mouth. “Then we make a plan for a counterattack.”

  “Easier said than done,” Arthur said. “Where do we even start?”

  Elyas pointed to Alice.

  “Me?” she said.

  “They obviously want you badly. And alive. Which means they need you for their plans, or you have the power to stop their plans.”

  “If I can’t even heal one boy’s eye, how do I stop an army?” she said.

  Elyas had no answer for that.

  What did Alice have to do with anything? She was never important, never a factor. Ever since she was a girl, she tried everything she could to not stand out. Alice glanced once more at Francesca’s painting. Alice was just a normal girl. Normal. These powers were a fluke.

  They had to be.

  Dad would have known what to do. Or maybe Claudette. She knew about magic stuff, but it’s not like Alice could go to her for advice.

  A melancholy silence settled over their corner of the table like an old acquaintance.

  Then Arthur spoke up. “Determinism and replicability.”

  “Say what?” Alice said.

  “Remember what I said earlier about magic effects being repeatable? I think I might know someone who could help us out.”

  “Do you, now?” Elyas said.

  “As a matter of fact, I do. He’s a tenured professor at the university. And he used to be one hell of an adventurer.”