Free Rumpel's Prize by Marie Hall Page A

Earth was not full of magic. Obviously her powers were void here and as much as that was a relief, it was also a worry, because if her siren call didn’t call it also meant her only form of protection was nullified.
    “Yo, Frankie,” Brenna called toward a redheaded, skinny mass of gangly knees and bony elbows sitting beside a Dumpster.
    The teenage boy looked up, and he too had a hard glint in his eyes. “What, boss?”
    Brenna snorted, obviously realizing that Shayera knew the truth. “You stay there. I’ll be back, keep doing what you supposed to, got it?” She all but growled that last bit, and ten or not, Shayera had to admit to being slightly intimidated by this hard-as-nails girl.
    The boy gave a thumbs-up and then went back to gazing around the park.
    “C’mon then.” Brenna jerked her head. “Cops this way.”
    They turned and Shayera pointed. “Just us? No Paco?”
    The girl laughed, finally appearing as young as she actually was. “Nah, the sentries stay. They can do without me for a bit. So tell me bout yourself, Red, ’cause I know you ain’t from round here.”
    Running her fingers through errant strands of curls, she sighed. “That obvious?”
    Once again they were back on the sidewalk, but now that the girl was by her side, Shayera noticed people were giving them both a wide berth. No more were people just rushing into her as if she were invisible. Another thing she noticed was the way women hugged their purses to their chests and how men kept a hand glued to the pocket where they kept their wallets when the girl walked past.
    It was obvious to Shayera that this girl, though acting a savior at the moment, was likely not someone she wanted to hang around for long. There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that as helpful as Brenna was being right now, she wouldn’t always be.
    “Couldn’t be more obvious even if you was wearing a sign around your neck.” Brenna laughed and picked at her thumbnail.
    Just then a woman with a stroller walked slowly by. The woman was thin and had streaks of salt-and-pepper hair and wore a plain black dress, and her skin looked aged and very brown. She kept her head down and was chattering away under her breath at the baby inside the carriage.
    Likely a grandmother out for an afternoon stroll. Shayera smiled, at least until Brenna kicked her foot out, tripping the poor woman who hadn’t been on the lookout. With a cry she lost her balance and as she fell, the stroller toppled with her.
    Terrified for the child’s safety, Shayera rushed forward, nearly breaking her neck as she leapt, stretching her arms out desperately to right the vehicle before the babe fell out.
    But she was too far and it crashed right on top of the old lady. The bundle inside smacked hard against the concrete. There was a quick cry of breath and then nothing. Absolutely nothing.
    Shocked, stunned, Shayera could only stare on because this couldn’t have actually happened. This young girl couldn’t have deliberately and violently caused the death of a little one. The baby was fine, it had to be. The thought of an infant finally spurred Shayera into motion.
    Brenna’s constant guffaws was a grating, awful noise in the back of her head. The bundle on the ground still did not move.
    Panicked, Shayera grabbed at the cloth-swaddled body that lay lifeless on the sidewalk. No one stopped to help, but plenty of eyes were looking on in bright-eyed disbelief. Shayera patted the child’s back, afraid to turn it over for fear of what she’d see. But there was no response.
    “Why did you do that?” Shayera snapped as she patted the baby’s back harder.
    The old woman was screaming as tears fell from her eyes. “My baby! My baby!” That’s when Shayera noticed that the poor woman’s left foot was tilted at an odd, gruesome angle.
    Her hands were frantically waving at the bundle in Shayera’s hands and Shayera’s heart shattered as she finally turned the swaddled child over. Then her