The Twelve Days of Giving

     “Tha’ will be fifty thousand Neopoints,” the Eyrie said, “since we’ve come all the way from Meridell.” He was a Darigan fellow, rather too chatty for Suhel’s tastes, but she had hired him because he did not mind having a Werelupe for a passenger.

     Condensed breath pooled in front of Suhel’s brown snout as she pulled aside her thick fur cloak and rifled through her hip bag. “No trouble at all,” she replied in her own brogue as she passed a heavy jingling pouch to the Eyrie.

     His red eyes gleamed as he pocketed the money in his saddlebag. “Pleasure doin’ business with ye.”

     “Likewise,” Suhel said, and she turned and began to stalk down the street, as she was not one for idle pleasantries. Her sword bounced against her leg, and the fangs woven into her black curly hair clattered eerily in a way most unfitting for the season.

     “And happy Giving Day!” the Eyrie called.

     “Same to you,” Suhel tossed over her shoulder, and then she kept walking. “Although it’s not for twelve days yet,” she muttered under her breath, but she knew Neopets who would start decorating and celebrating before the month of Storing had even ended.

     Many Neopets stopped and stared at Suhel as she tromped down the high street, and her fur bristled, but thankfully all they did was stare. Barrowmere’s troubles with Werelupes had ended only last year. If anyone had said anything, Suhel would have replied with “For the last time, it wasn’t me!” In fact, she was one of the Werelupes who had stopped the pack responsible, but she didn’t expect most Neopians to be able to tell the difference.

     Suhel stopped at a storefront whose window contained an assortment of knickknacks draped with tinsel. The hanging sign said “SECOND-HAND SHOPPE” and Suhel knew she had the right place. She opened the door and stepped in.

     The small store was crammed full of furniture, clothing, books, and antiques, and Suhel could barely find room for her bulky frame. Standing just over two metres tall and with the muscle to match had its advantages in most situations, but trying to squeeze past shelves of porcelain dolls and crystal vases was not one of them. Suhel now fully understood the idiom of a Blurgah in a china shop.

     In trying to avoid knocking over a stack of phonograph records, Suhel instead backed into a tall standing mirror and it wobbled precariously. She shot out a paw to catch it—and instead, a hoofed hand grabbed onto it.

     “Sorry,” Suhel said to the owner of the hand, a barrel-chested orange Kau male wearing a bowler hat and suspenders.

     “Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” the Kau said, adjusting the price tag to make sure it was visible. “I apologise that there isn’t much room in here. It seems everyone cleans out their closets around the month of Storing, and then we’ve got more to sell than we know what to do with!” He chuckled. “They must be making room for their Giving Day presents.”

     “They must,” Suhel grunted. “But Beoffrey, how in the world do you manage to navigate this maze without breaking anything? You’re not exactly a small Neopet, yourself.”

     “Years of practice,” Beoffrey said. “And I have broken things before. Lexora can tell you all about it.”

     At the sound of her friend’s name, Suhel’s ears perked. “Is she home?”

     “Why, I’m right here!” said a slim Red Kougra woman who emerged from behind a rack of coats with a toothy grin. Her dark brown hair was piled into an elegant bun, a stark contrast to Suhel’s wild mane, but Lexora didn’t seem to care about any differences between them as she grabbed Suhel’s arm and led her toward the stairs at the back of the store. “I’m so glad you could make it this year, Suhel! I hope the trip didn’t give you any trouble?”

     “It went just fine,” Suhel said with a smile. “Thankfully I don’t get airsick.” She was half-distracted by the sheer volume and variety of items in the shop, and her grin widened when she saw a section with a large sign that said “WARNING – THESE ITEMS POSSIBLY CURSED AND/OR HAUNTED – HANDLE AT YOUR OWN RISK”. Only in the Haunted Woods, she thought.

     “Beoffrey, dearest, please mind the shop while I get Suhel settled,” Lexora said, already halfway up the stairs with Suhel in tow.

     “Of course, dear,” Beoffrey said from below them.

     The two women emerged in a cosy but well-furnished sitting room with a fire blazing in the hearth and family portraits on the walls. A short but stout fir tree had been wedged into a corner and decorated with popcorn chains and twinkling faerie lights that cast rainbows on the walls. On the mantel sat an effigy of a Terror Mountain Petpet with pointed green ears and a red cap. The doll’s too-cute face made Suhel recoil in unease, as if it knew something she didn’t and it was being smug.

     In a tall armchair by the fire sat an elderly blue Grarrl scribbling furiously on some papers on his lap, but he stopped when he saw the Werelupe. “Welcome back, Miss Suhel!” he said. “And a happy Giving Day to you!”

     “And you as well, Mr. Fitchet,” Suhel said, and she couldn’t help but grin. Lexora’s father had a way of making everyone feel important.

     “Oh, Daddy, are you still doing bookkeeping?” Lexora asked, swatting his arm playfully. “I told you, your Giving Day holiday started yesterday!”

     “Perhaps it did,” Mr. Fitchet said, adjusting his spectacles, “but you haven’t closed the shop for the holidays quite yet, dearest. I just want to make sure all accounts are in order before then. At any rate, it gives me something to do once I’ve solved the daily crossword in the paper.” He sighed and shook his head. “Those crossword writers are getting more and more ridiculous by the day. This morning, do you know what the answer was for 3-down? ‘Eight-bit Slorg’! Not even a regular Slorg! And I haven’t the slightest notion what a ‘bit’ even is!”

     “It’s a Virtupets technology thing, I think,” Suhel said. “But I only know that because I’m acquainted with a former space marine.”

     Lexora winked at her and pulled her away. “Oh, don’t let him bother you!” the Kougra said. “He’s been saying the same thing for years now. And yet he finishes the crossword anyway!”

     “Well, if the library would only get some new books in, then I wouldn’t have to resort to it,” Mr. Fitchet said, going back to running his numbers.

     “You’ll be rooming with Millie,” Lexora said, leading Suhel up another flight of stairs to a hall lined with burgundy wallpaper and fluted glass lamps between the doorways. “We’ve got a cot she uses when her friend Frances sleeps over… hopefully it will hold your weight.”

     “If not,” Suhel said, “I’m perfectly fine sleeping on the floor.” She tugged at her cloak. “I even brought my own bedding.”

     “That’s very kind of you,” Lexora said, opening one of the doors, “but I’m determined to treat you to real Barrowmere hospitality, and that includes sleeping on a proper bed.”

     Suhel smirked. “You know I was never one for civilisation anyway.” For her and the other Werelupes of her pack, furs were not only a perfectly acceptable bed, but a very comfortable one. But she knew Lexora wasn’t meaning to give offense.

     “Just let me be a hostess for once!” Lexora said with a mock-exasperated sigh.

     Rather unusually for a space belonging to a preteen girl, Millie’s room was quite tidy and subdued, with a full bookshelf occupying one wall and a collection of colourful glass bottles on the windowsill, but little else by way of decoration. The third-storey window looked out past rooftops and chimneys, and in the distance Suhel could see the rolling hills of the Haunted Woods rising thick and primaeval, fading into the mist. She also caught a glimpse of the ancient burial mounds by the dark lake that gave rise to Barrowmere’s name, and wondered if one could see the barrow-ghosts from here by night.

     A messy pile on the bed looked like laundry, until suddenly it shivered and moved. It uncurled into a small creature with frizzled black hair that hissed at the two women and scrambled under the bed.

     “Oh, a Gremble!” Suhel said. “Such darling little things.”

     “That’s right, I neglected to mention,” Lexora said. “Millie took in a Petpet Gremble at the beginning of the school year. His name is Eldritch.”

     “Pleasure to meet you, Eldritch!” Suhel said, getting on her hands and knees to look under the bed. Eldritch’s yellow eyes glowed out from the shadows of the tattered fabric around his face, and he hissed again. “What a dear fellow,” Suhel said with a grin, standing back up. “When I was Millie’s age, I wanted a Gremble so badly.”

     A fold-out cot had been placed against the bookshelf, and Suhel sat on it tentatively. It creaked under her weight but held. “Well, I ought to thank you,” Suhel said. “It was very kind of you to invite me to stay with your family for Giving Day. Lord Isengrim is hosting his family at the Burrows this holiday, which I suppose frees me up to do some travelling.” Suhel did not particularly enjoy travelling, but spending time with a dear friend was worth the trouble.

     “I’ll make sure you have the best Giving Day ever!” Lexora said. “I can’t wait for you to take part in all the Fitchet-Browning family traditions!” She put a paw on Suhel’s shoulder. “Every year, we pack the month of Celebrating full of so much festive fun, you’ll barely have time to sit down!”

     “That sounds… wearisome,” Suhel said. “I was rather hoping we could all sit and play some Castle of Eliv Thade. I know Millie’s quite good at that game.”

     “My dear girl, this is Giving Day!” Lexora said. “It only comes round once a year, and we shan’t let it go to waste!” She looked aside. “Besides, I’ve already filled our schedule with commitments. I was rather hoping you would like to come along for the ride and see how our family does Giving Day.”

     “Oh—right,” Suhel said. “My apologies. I did come here to spend time with your family, after all. I shouldn’t like to be a rude guest.” All the same, playing Castle of Eliv Thade sounded relaxing after the long flight from Meridell, but Suhel felt bad complaining while Lexora was trying her best to be hospitable.

     “Not to worry,” Lexora said, squeezing her shoulder. “These next twelve days will be the most fun you’ve ever had in your life—I promise!”

     “Mummy!” a boy called from downstairs. “We’re home!”

     Two pairs of shoes stampeded up the steps, and a young White Skeith and Yellow Moehog nearly ran into Lexora, who swept them up in a hug. “Mummy—” the chubby Skeith said, and then he saw Suhel, cleared his throat, and stood up straighter. “I mean, Mum. Gilbert invited me to his Giving Day party next week! Can I go, pleeeease Mum?”

     “You can call her ‘Mummy’ if you like,” Suhel said. “I don’t mind.”

     “Nonsense,” Simon said, puffing out his chest. “I’m eight now, Miss Suhel. That’s practically grown up.”

     “And my class is throwing a Giving Day party tomorrow ‘cos it’s the last day of school before the holiday!” the small Moehog squeaked, tugging at his scarf with glee. “They’ll be having a gift exchange, so we need to go to market right now and buy something for me to bring!”

     A grimace crossed Lexora’s face, but she smoothed it over quickly. “Oh—of course, darlings!” she said. “What day is Gilbert’s party, Simon?”

     “Wednesday,” Simon said. “Two o’clock. Oh, Miss Suhel, can I play with your sword? I promise I won’t break anything!”

     Suhel sighed and gripped her scabbard tightly. “Swords are not toys, Simon. They are tools. If you want to learn combat, I’ll start you off with a quarterstaff before we move on to blades.” She glanced at Lexora. “But only when your mother says you’re ready.”

     “I’m ready now!” Simon said.

     “Don’t speak for me, dear,” Lexora said. “All right, Wednesday…” She chewed at her lip with a fang. “We’ll be back from Granddad’s and Gran’s by then – they’re excited to meet you, Suhel – and we’ve got carolling with some other families from the ladies’ club that evening, but I think as long as you don’t stay too long at the party—”

     “Smashing!” Simon said.

     “Don’t forget about my party!” Alfred said as his eyes began to well with tears.

     “I wasn’t meaning to, dear!” Lexora said, planting her paws on his shoulders. “I’m just trying to fit everything into the schedule—we’re going to visit the retirement home tonight, but I can go to market while you’re at school tomorrow and pick something up—”

     “B-but what if you d-don’t get it to me in t-time for the party?!” Alfred wailed.

     Suhel winced. “Why not just pick something from your shop that you’re having a hard time selling? Kids are easily pleased. As long as it’s not from the haunted section.”

     Lexora looked over her shoulder at the Werelupe and said, “Oh—I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose that would be an easier solution.” She let out a breath and it seemed like quite a bit of tension had left her body. “Simon, Alfred, why don’t you go down to the shop and pick something out for the gift exchange?”

     “All right!” Simon said. “C’mon, Alfred, race you there!”

     “No fair, you’re faster than me!” Alfred said as they tore back down the stairs.

     “You saved me there,” Lexora said. “Although now I’m sure we really won’t have any time to sit down until after Giving Day.” She leaned against Millie’s dresser.

     “Do we have to go to the retirement home?” Suhel asked.

     Lexora thought for a moment, and then stood back up. “Of course we do! It’s a Browning family tradition to visit elderly Neopets during the holidays. We’ve also got lots of cookies that need baking and distributing before Giving Day, and ornaments to craft—”

     “And ballet rehearsal is Saturday night,” said an adolescent grey Ogrin from behind them. “Hello, Miss Suhel,” she added with a faint smile.

     “Nice to see you again, Millie,” Suhel said. Being a grey-coloured Neopet, Millie was rather reserved, but it made her less of a headache than her energetic brothers.

     Eldritch shot out from under the bed and leapt at Millie, who caught him and held him tight. “There’s a dear boy,” Millie said, stroking his scraggly fur. He made a hollow rattling sound and shivered.

     “I didn’t know you’d taken up ballet,” Suhel said.

     Millie’s ears drooped slightly. “I haven’t, not really. But it’s Browning family tradition that all the children participate in the annual community production of The Snow Faerie.”

     “Alfred gets to be a Snicklebeast this year,” Lexora added with a chuckle. “The way he goes on about it, you’d think he’d become king of Meridell.”

     “And Simon is a Bori soldier,” Millie said. “Even though he’s just got a wooden spear and shield, he’s far too excited about them.”

     “But do tell Suhel about your part, Millie!” Lexora said.

     The girl looked aside. “I… got cast as the Snow Faerie.”

     “That’s impressive,” Suhel said. “Are you excited?”

     “O—of course,” Millie said, sounding like she was trying very hard to want to be excited.

     Suhel raised an eyebrow, and was about to voice her concern, when the two-boy stampede once again sounded through the house, and Simon and Alfred crash-landed at Millie’s doorway. “We found something!” Alfred said, holding up a pewter figurine of a sad Quiggle clown.

     Lexora put a paw to her muzzle in amusement. “Yes, we’ve definitely had that one in the shop for a while. I think it’ll make a splendid addition to the gift exchange. Come on—let’s wrap it, make supper, and then we’re off to the retirement home!” She motioned for Suhel to join them.

     Suhel stalked behind them, her weight making the floorboards creak as thoughts bounced around in her head like the refrain of a catchy Giving Day carol. Something wasn’t quite right in the Fitchet-Browning household, and Suhel wondered what she had gotten herself into.

To be continued…