At 8:45 sharp, the carriage pulled up at the Maierson gate. Maine emerged, dressed in her stifling, school uniform, flanked by Kelphin and her brother. She carried a large suitcase in her hands, struggling to drag it along after her. Miss Imi and the staff crowded the windows in the mansion, watching nervously as they walked her down to the gates. Not taking any chances, Matthew had stationed workers there to meet them, positioned on either side of the gate so that there was nowhere for her to run. One held the carriage door open, as Maine lifted the case into the cab, shoving it inside. Her brother held his hand out to help her up, but she pointedly ignored him. As she placed her foot into the cab, small black marbles seemed to slip out of her pocket, falling to the cobblestones. She pulled herself up into the cab…

  …and jumped down through the opposite door into the square on the other side. The marbles exploded as they hit the stones, blinding everyone in a inky, black cloud. As she leapt down, she kicked her suitcase forwards, letting it fly open as it hit the streets. Inside wasn’t clothes, but her duffel bag, stuffed with books and tools, as well as Ifri’s lantern. She scooped them both up and ran, chest pounding, for the other side of the square. Behind her, she could hear shouts and yells, the horses neighing as they panicked, running blindly forwards. She reached an alley and ran for freedom.

  Behind her, high up in her room, they would later find her room in complete chaos. Discarded notes from spell books and scrolls crumpled across her desk, scraps of tracing paper everywhere, her cauldron and mixing set still lying out, with strange stains and liquids on the floor. Glittering, diamond-like ash filled her pestle, spilling over with bits of silver wire braided like twine everywhere. It was as if a magical explosion had taken place, or one feverish night of frantic creativity.

  As the cloud began to settle, Matthew shouted for the workers, ordering them after her, but as for Maine, she was already gone.

  Grubs was a local delicatessen on the lower east side of Old Coney. It wasn’t considered an acquired taste, for indeed, they could satisfy any taste you could possibly have, rather more of a tourist trap. Not that anyone came to Old Coney specifically for Grubs, but rather they were unaware that you shouldn’t walk too slowly or too near that particular shop during operating hours.

  Maine barely made it by nine. She’d had to stop and change out of her uniform, ditching it gladly, and for good she hoped this time. Now standing outside the shop, she paused to check that no one was following her. As she turned, she heard the creak of wood, as the entire roof of the deli lifted up, like on a hinge, and a huge hand reached out to snatch her off the sidewalk.

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  “Hey, what are you doin’ waiting on the sidewalk?” a rough voice bellowed. “Hungry people need food, and food’s found in here!!”

  She was lifted up and over the door and plopped down on the dingy tile. The roof settled down behind her as Grub smiled, welcoming her inside. “Mornin’, Mornin! What can I get ya?” He was a huge, good-natured orge, standing well over twelve feet tall, with long, loping arms and short stubby horns on either side of his head. He wore a stained, off-color cooks uniform, and wiped his hands on an apron the size of sail, nodding eagerly to her.

  He gestured to the long, long counter that stretched down the length of the shop. There were a few guests sitting at the counter, either snared like she was or looking for that unique dish that couldn’t be found anywhere else, but Maine thought she was a waving hand somewhere in the back. “You look like you could use a bagel with a spread of lox?” he offered to her. “Maybe garnished with tomatoes? Strawberry jelly? Sheep’s brain? We’ve got all kinds of–”

  “It’s okay!” she said quickly. “I’m here to meet someone. I’ve got a reservation!”

  The diner went silent as those words were spoken for perhaps the first time. Grub stared at her, blinking one eye after the other, blink, blink, blink. He stood up, scratching at his head. “Res-er-va-tion? What the hell is that?”

  Another Ogre looked up from the huge stove in the back. She had a hair net placed delicately over her horns, but aside from that, she looked nearly identical to Grub. “It means she’s got a table already set aside,” she bellowed, coming out from around the counter. Grub still looked clueless, so she hustled him aside. “It means she wants to eat her, you lug! Go look after the stove, I’ll take care of this one.”

  “Ehhh….” he waved his hand as he shuffled back to the kitchen, and the female Ogress looked down at Maine.

  “My, you’re a small one,” she said, squinting near-sightedly. “Are you a Human?” she asked. Maine nodded. “Eh, never much cared for Humans, even with the right garnish. But everyone’s served equally at Grubs. She leaned down and asked kindly, “Do you need help finding a table, honey?”

  “No, I think I’ve got it.”

  “That’s nice. Well just wave me down when you’re ready to order,” she told her sweetly, then straightened up and bellowed at her husband as she disappeared into the back. “Hey, you better not have let my pig bladder souffle burn!”

  Maine let her go, already looking hard down the row of tables to the lone occupied one in the back, and the smiling figure still waving at her.

  “Well,” Fink said, as she sat down across the table, “so nice to meet you again, Ms Maierson.”