I fucking screamed.

  She frowned. Her eyebrows, a tussle of red yarn, crawled up and down, in the distinct semblance of a human emotion. Lips –scraps of scarlet cloth– moved in sync with the words, a scratchy voice caught between childlike fairy tales and adolescent sci-fi horror.

  “Rude.” She said, neck twisting so that she could talk to Emyrith over her shoulder. “Emmie? Upsies.”

  “What the fuck is that?!” I’ll give you one guess on who said this bit. “It talked?!”

  Emyrith stepped past the faded circle.

  “Again, rude!” The doll waddled towards him, grabbed onto his legs and climbed up until she was hanging on his shoulders. “I don’t like him. Are you sure about him?”

  “Job's a job.” He said gently. “Mr. Hallow, this is Ruth. My familiar”

  She settled behind his shoulders, her fingerless hands hanging on for dear life. The doll scowled, then said in a distinct whiny tone, “He hasn’t said sorry for screaming at me.”

  Emyrith lifted an eyebrow.

  “S-sorry.” I stammered out.

  Ruth nodded. “Watch yourself, Hallow... Diabolist... Shaman. Whatever you are.”

  The ragdoll had button eyes, and reddish-blonde yarn tied into pigtails on either side. Her mouth opened up, just like those hand-puppets on TV. She wore a red-and-white polkadot dress that was definitely a refashioned picnic blanket.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

  She didn’t have vocal cords. How was she speaking? And those facial expressions, it just didn’t make sense.

  “The fact that you can see Ruth means your Third Eye is open. Which means it’s time to move,” With that, drew another character mid-air with dim light around his finger.

  It was snowing outside, but not windy. Not that it mattered, the windows were closed. But the moment Emyrith finished his symbol, a gust of wind howled and rattled the windows. Then I felt the softest of breezes around my naked ankles. When I looked down, the traces of the circle scattered into insignificant chalk dust around the room.

  Emyrith handed me my stuff and I immediately went about putting my clothes back on. “You’re still gathering your thoughts. We can walk in the meantime.”

  We left the classroom in much of the same way as we entered, unnoticed. I looked at one of the hallway clocks, there was still a good amount of time before the sixth period ended.

  Emyrith walked down the halls briskly, with Ruth still hanging off his shoulder. I followed.

  Walking was good. It was something I did a lot, from bus stops to subway stations to everywhere else. It helped me rest my brain and soften the shock of everything that was happening.

  We stopped by my locker, where I picked up my stuff.

  “Is that all?” Emyrith asked.

  I looked at the gray hoodie in my arms, then at Emyrith. “Yeah?”

  He looked pointedly at the snowfall outside.

  I shrugged. “It’s lined with fur.”

  He furrowed his brows in disapproval, but didn’t press the point. “Come.”

  I got what Emyrith was getting at. It was freezing outside and more than one kind hearted teacher had asked after my choice of winterwear. Even strangers on the subway.

  To be honest, it wasn’t that warm despite the fur. But what was I going to do? Complain?

  Growing up poor, you learn to deflect other people’s pity. I guess it’s kind of a defense mechanism. Sort of a ‘I’m all right! Don’t look at me! Your attention on me being poor bothers me more than only having crackers for lunch!’.

  Even so, I had a feeling that Emyrith was the type to actually do something about my lack of winter clothes. There was power in his words, and he wouldn’t ask just to ask.

  The thing is, I didn’t want his help. It’s weird. I wanted to leave a good first impression on Emyrith, and admitting that I wasn’t fine seemed counterproductive to that.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  God, I have issues.

  Ruth’s staring broke me out of my thoughts.

  “I’m, uh, I’m sorry for screaming at you.”

  "So you've said." She sniffed, as well as a ragdoll could. “You are forgiven.”

  “I’m Jain.” I said. “Jain Hallow.”

  “I know that.” She tilted her head, “You have Miru’s nose.”

  “You knew my mom too?”

  “In passing. Yes.” She glanced at Emyrith.

  Though he was listening, his attention was focused ahead of us.

  "Can I ask something?” When she nodded, I asked, “What are you?”

  “I’m Ruth. A Lwa.”

  “What's a–”

  “Mr. Hallow,” Emyrith broke in, “People who see you will think you’re talking to yourself.”

  A lightbulb went off in my head. My brain had finally decided to start working again, catching up to the order of events and connecting the dots together.

  “The doorknob. The wind thing you did with the chalk. And Ruth,” I hissed under my breath, “The fact that I couldn’t see her before, but now I can. The crop circle. It’s all connected.”

  “Now he’s getting it.” Ruth exclaimed, her lips unmoving.

  “Not crop circle. Circle.” Emyrith said.

  We got past the security guard, along with some kids on their free period. There were pointed whispers, kids wondering just why I was being walked out by a fancy looking lawyer. It went without saying, there would be some nasty rumors about me floating around at school tomorrow.

  I braced myself and stepped out into the cold.

  God, it was freezing. There are days when there’s no chill in the air, despite the snow. This wasn’t one of those. Winds blew at a gajillion miles an hour, raising goosebumps on my arms and the back of my thighs. Within seconds, my hands turned red and started to itch.

  We were officially in the middle of a New York blizzard.

  Emyrith didn’t waste time talking. He walked first through the snowy path carved by Charter Academy’s caretakers. I followed him, trying not to get snow under the cuff of my pants and into my ankles.

  A hummer pulled up in front of us, decked out in snow tires and a –I freaking kid you not– a retractable snow plow.

  Emyrith held the rear door open, “Step inside, Mr. Hallow.”

  Inside the mobile fortress, the front of the car was paneled off, with a small window that could be closed. Emyrith got in after me, and the hummer revved to life and began to cruise.

  It was just me, Emyrith, and Ruth in the back.

  “You do know, I have about a dozen questions. And your answers will probably raise about a dozen more.” I said flatly.

  Emyrith held up a finger. He opened his briefcase and brought out an envelope.

  “From your father.” Emyrith said, “It will explain a lot of things before you begin to ask questions.”

  “Wait, then why didn’t you give me this before?” I took the envelope from him.

  “The same reason that you could not see Ruth before.” Emyrith explained. While he spoke, Ruth climbed into his lap and let out a loud yawn. “Your Third Eye wasn’t open yet. Your father wrote this letter, intended to be read only after you were awoken. Anything else would have been violating the terms he and your mother agreed to.”

  A pure white envelope, sealed with wax and dusted with gold. The wax seal drew my eye, or rather the imprinted symbol: a pitchfork with a single eye behind it, surrounded by the words ‘Diabolus in subtilitate’.

  It seemed like the type of lame creepy occult things that my dad was into.

  Emyrith was kindly looking out the window, giving me as much privacy as could be had. Considering the real estate inside the baby monster truck, it was more than enough.

  I opened the envelope and began reading.