30

Serendipity.

Serendipity was the name of the coffee shop on the 147th floor of Grant Tower. Fairies were fond of giving their shops such names. The tailor’s shop was called Sew It Goes. The bakery near Ophelia’s cottage was called Fortune’s Cookies. The vendor four doors down was called Destiny’s Market—though that was because Destiny Daffodil Pincher ran the place, not because one was destined to eat her candied fruits and nuts (though they were pretty good). It was cleverness, mostly. Fairies being ironic about the fact that they could shape the fortunes and fates of others but most of the time preferred to just sit around in the woods, drink coffee, eat cookies, and shoot the breeze. The Haven was a truly magical place.

As she sat up on Sam’s back, hoping the wind might dry her uniform faster (though her behind, planted on Sam’s wet fur, was never going to get dry), Ophelia couldn’t help but wonder if a little serendipity hadn’t come her way, lifting her up out of that tree and depositing her so much closer to Kasarah’s coin. Except there was nothing serendipitous about a hawk hoping to have you for dinner. And she wasn’t saved by fortune, fate, or good luck.

She was saved by a stray dog. One who now trotted pompously along, prancing like a show pony with his head high, grr-ing softly to himself the whole time in a kind of singsong voice.

“Oh, I am Sam. And I’m a hero. I saved Ophelia from the pond. She can’t swim. So I saved her. That makes me very very very very awesome. Oh . . . I am Sam. And I’m a hero. I saved Ophelia from the pond. She can’t swim. So I saved her. That makes me very very very very very . . .”

“Sam,” Ophelia said.

“. . . very very very very very . . .”

“Sam,” Ophelia said again, leaning closer to his ears.

“. . . very very very VERY VERY very very . . .”

“SAM!” Ophelia shouted and tugged hard on a fistful of fur.

Sam yelped and twisted his head to give her a look. “What was that for?”

Part of it, admittedly, was to get him to shut up. But most of it was because they were back on the streets again. They’d crossed through a meadow beside the pond where she fell, then circled around a fence that skirted a neighborhood of identical-looking houses, and here they were back on cement, looking at a paved road and a string of shops directly across from it.

And oh so close. There was no doubt in Ophelia’s mind now. The wish spoke loud enough that she no longer had to concentrate to hear it, even over Sam’s singing. She pointed to the row of buildings across the way. “There,” she said. Maybe the man in the striped shirt was in one of them. Or maybe he’d handed the nickel off to someone else. Either way, she had traced it here. “We need to cross the street.”

But Sam was already one step ahead of her, running down the grassy embankment and right out into the road, heedless of the cars that barreled toward them. Ophelia gripped hard with her legs and tried to dig her way under his fur for fear of falling, but they made it across with only two volleys of honks and one car slamming on its brakes. “Get out of the road, you mangy mutt!” the man who had to stop shouted from his window, but Sam paid little attention, leaping across a ditch and galloping into the parking lot.

Ophelia scanned the rows of cars until she found exactly what she was looking for: the boxy white turtle with the rusty doors. The same one that had sprayed her with the blue stuff and then catapulted her into that oncoming truck. It was parked right outside the biggest building in the strip.

“Super Pets,” Ophelia muttered, reading the red-lettered sign with the black paw print beside it.

“Super pets,” Sam echoed. “Wow. That sounds terrific. I want to be super-petted.”

“I don’t think that’s what it means,” Ophelia said, squinting, trying to spy through the tinted windows of the storefront. “I think it means the animals are super.”

“Oh yes! Me too! I am super!” He began to sing again. “I am Sam, and I’m a hero. I saved—”

“No. It’s just the name of the store,” Ophelia interrupted. “They probably sell food and supplies for dogs and cats and things.”

“Doughnuts?” Sam wondered.

“Not doughnuts,” Ophelia guessed. “And I don’t think it would be a good idea if you went in.” She was actually certain of it. The humans inside would take one look at Sam and immediately recognize him as a stray. No collar, no tags, scratched up and dopey eyed and in sore need of a bath. She wasn’t sure what would happen then, but she guessed they would be separated. “Besides,” she added, “this part requires stealth and subterfuge. And while you are an excellent chaser and swimmer, I’m not sure you can be subtle.”

“Oh. I am very subtle,” Sam barked. “What’s subtle?”

“Subtle is not darting out into the street without looking for cars. Subtle is not growling at everything that moves. Subtle is definitely not sniffing other creatures’ butts.”

Sam looked disappointed. His big eyes seemed to sag.

Ophelia got an idea. “But that’s all right, because you have an even more important job to do. I need you to stand guard.”

“Oh yes,” Sam said eagerly, tail suddenly wagging again. “I am a very good guard dog. Do you want me to bark if someone goes in?”

“No. That won’t be necessary,” Ophelia said.

“Oh. Okay. Do you want me to bark when somebody comes out?”

“No. You don’t need to do that either.”

“Oh. Okay,” Sam said. He seemed confused. “So what am I doing again?”

“I need you to wait close to the door, maybe by those bushes over there,” Ophelia said, pointing. “And if you see a man with blue pants and a striped shirt come out and I’m right behind him doing this—” Ophelia started jumping up and down, pointing dramatically and mouthing the words Get him. “That means I need you to keep the man from getting into his car.”

“Oh. I see,” Sam said. “Should I bite him?”

“No. Just . . . you know . . . scare him a little.”

“But what if he scares me back?” Sam asked.

Ophelia could see it in his eyes: Sam had some memories that ran long and deep. She reached over and put a hand on his muzzle. “I know how brave you are,” she said. “But if anybody ever tries to hurt you, you run.” She stroked the scruff of Sam’s chin. “I won’t be long at all. Promise.”

Get in. Get the nickel. Get out. She could perform the ritual after when she met back up with Sam. Generally you weren’t supposed to invite an audience, even if that audience was a dog, but it wouldn’t hurt Sam to see that sometimes wishes could come true.

“Okay,” Sam started barking. “I will be brave. Because I am Sam. And I’m a hero. I saved Ophelia from the—”

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Not subtle,” she said.

“Oh. Okay.”

Following her pointing finger, Sam trotted over and slunk down among the bushes, while Ophelia furtively made her way across the parking lot, hiding behind tires and crouching beside curbs. When she was certain there was nobody around, she stood in front of the sliding glass doors leading to the pet supply store. She’d seen these kinds of doors before: humans simply walked toward them and they opened. Magic, but not really.

Except they didn’t open for her. She jumped up and down and waved her arms, even called the doors a few choice names, but nothing happened. Humans and their stupid contraptions! If they were designed to make life easier, how come they were all so fernfaddled complicated? She was about to give up and whistle for Sam’s help, when the doors dinged and slid open, revealing a lumbering white furry monster with giant teeth. Ophelia barely dodged out of the way, pressing herself into the thin recess that the door vanished into as the Saint Bernard and his owner passed by. As soon as they’d gone she felt the door on her back, pushing closed again, and spun sideways, into the store.

That’s one way to do it, she thought.

She turned and gave Sam a salute through the glass, then quickly took cover behind a box of Crunchables dog biscuits on a bottom shelf.

Stealth and subterfuge. Ophelia hoped she’d do a better job of it than she had at the diner. This time she knew to stay calm and focused. She scanned what she could see of the store, marking every potential danger. The place was huge—almost the size of the Glade, though there were no magic wish-picking trees growing out of the center of it. There were lots of cages, however, and those cages contained animals of all different kinds. Hamsters and rabbits and turtles and mice. Along one side she could see a half dozen cats prowling and rubbing their flanks against their wire walls. The air gave off a musty funk that Ophelia likened to riding on Sam’s back. If she wanted to, she could probably hear what all these creatures were saying with their mewls and squeaks and hisses, but instead she tried to focus only on Kasarah’s voice.

I wish.

The coin was here. Ophelia couldn’t see the man in the striped shirt, but she could sense the coin’s presence. She noticed one cashier at the front of the store ringing up a customer, her money-eating drawer opening and shutting with a clang. The whisper wasn’t coming from in there. A couple more employees appeared to be wandering up and down the aisles, stocking shelves. She would do her best to avoid them; they all wore bright red shirts, so they were easy to spot. No doubt one of them could easily get his hands on a broom if he wanted.

Ophelia circled around the aisle, staying close to the shelves, ready to sneak back behind stacked cans of Meaty Morsels or giant bags of Puppy Grub, keeping her eyes peeled for her target and trying to ignore the strange noises and smells that surrounded her. At the sound of footsteps coming from behind she leapt onto the lowest shelf and hid behind the first thing she found, realizing too late it was just a glass bowl and that anyone who cared could see right through it. But she was low enough that the woman passing by didn’t notice. Ophelia dropped in behind her and crept to the next aisle.

No man. No nickel. She went to the next. Not there either. She found herself standing near an aquarium housing a black rat snake thick as a tree branch. He looked at her with interest, flicking his tongue against the glass of his enclosure. “Don’t even think about it, mister,” she said, and ducked behind a bin advertising chew toys near the center aisle. She could still hear the wish calling for her, but she couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from. There was too much interference. Cats crying. Hamster wheels squeaking. Birds squawking. The ding of the door. The ching of the cash register. The clop of feet. And all the time, the bright lights above made her squint. As big as this store was, Ophelia still felt claustrophobic, imagining herself trapped inside one of these glass boxes, sleeping on a bed of cedar chips, being fed pellets out of a bag. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Where are you, you stupid coin?

When she opened them, there he was.

Five aisles over, toward the front of the store. He had one of those huge green bags of dog food cradled in one arm and was picking out a box of biscuits to go with it. It was definitely him, the one who had spritzed her. Striped shirt and blue denim. And he still had Kasarah’s wish. She could see it glowing faintly through his pocket.

Ophelia reached down and unhooked her last can of spray and quickly devised a plan. Circle back around the shelves and approach from the side. Use the rack to climb up to the register since she could no longer fly. Spray him right as he was paying. With any luck he would put the nickel on the counter, making it an easy grab. Ophelia would shoot him and the red-shirted cashier both and then be out the door before anyone else in the place knew what was happening. It wasn’t ideal, and Squint certainly wouldn’t approve of her knocking two humans unconscious. But Squint wasn’t here, was he? This was still her mission, and it was her call. And besides, the girl standing behind the cash register was yawning already. She could probably use a nap.

Ophelia took a deep breath and a step into the aisle but paused when she heard barking coming from the back of the store.

It was a pet store. She’d heard barking from the moment she came in.

Except she knew this bark.

“I am Sam. I’m a hero,” the bark said.

“Do you need to be saved?”