"Why do people call them blueberries?"

I did not have to lift my gaze to know that a rat had made it into the bakery. "Because." I stated firmly, keeping my nose buried in my book.

The little girl with a bushel of hazel curls pressed her face into the glass case. Her golden eyes sparkled with hunger as she gazed at Granny Bett's daily special. "Why?"

"Just because." I flipped the page.

"They aren't even blue," she huffed, her breath fogging up the glass. "They're indigo."

I bit my lower lip at the triumphant word she sang out. "Are they now?"

"Yep!" she popped, her head bouncing two steps to the register where I sat reading - or where I tried to.

The girl grinned, baring all of her crooked teeth before darting at me with greedy hands. My book instinctively closed. I grabbed her not-so sneaky arm and pulled her quickly across the counter.

I leaned down so we were face to face. "What are you doing?"

The little orphan girl who was named, Rat, by her peers (creative, I know), stuck out her lower lip. Her round, golden eyes withered with a whimper. "You didn't use any magic."

My brow twitched.

This again?

Lifting my book higher, I huffed a laugh. I could feel my lips twist into a smile while my voice dropped low. "You wanna see magic?"

The question would have sent most people running from me with tears in their eyes. Hell, I know a few men in this town who have. But, Rat? She was different.

The orphan girl did not know fear. Nor was she aware of sarcasm. Instead, her eyes glistened with excitement. They shimmered like the rays of sunlight that I barely got to see in this sad prison of a town. Taking a deep breath, she put on her best serious expression.

She nodded firmly.

"You sure?" I pressed, wiggling my brow for extra effect.

She nodded twice.

"Really sure?"

She nodded three - no, six times.

"Then," I hissed, a crackle of a witch's laugh simmered in my throat. I raised my little book higher. "If you are really, really sure..."

Rat's feet were kicking with excitement now. It was cute and reminded me of when I used to be that way. Eyes glistening with utter confidence...A smile creeping into every moment...And, an irritatingly low sense of danger.

Thwack!

"OW! OW! OWWIE! OW!"

I huffed at the pitiful display. I didn't even hit her that hard. The book barely weighed five pounds. It didn't even have a hundred pages for Gods sake!

Yet, there Rat was. Rolling on the floor, cradling the back of her head with fox tears in her eyes. She whimpered and cried which of course summoned the Devil herself.

Granny Bett came tumbling out of the kitchen with a panicked expression. She had barely wiped the flour from her crescent frames before laying her withered green eyes on Rat.

"Oh, Mouse," she cried rushing around the counter. Though, even in her swift waddle, Granny Bett made sure to smack the back of my head for good measure. The attack was quick, firm, and much too heavy-handed for someone this town saw as a pitiful old granny.

Rat immediately sat up. Her arms swung open so Granny Bett could sweep her up into a gentle embrace. "G-Granny," she sobbed loudly, "Win-Winnie hit me!"

"There, there, Mouse," Granny Bett cooed. A wrinkled hand patted Rat's bushy hair with a kindness I never received in all the fifteen years I lived with the old croon. "Don't you worry about that mean, old Winnie."

"Aw, come on," I groaned, finally finding the strength to lift my aching skull up off the counter. "I barely hit her!"

Green apple eyes turned sour. "So you admit it?"

"Huh?"

Plates clinked quietly beneath the counter. Their chitters were low and deep and only loud enough for me to hear. Granny Bett's thin, wrinkled face snarled when I lifted my gaze back to hers. "You dare hit a customer in my bakery?"

"What? No, she's not even a customer!"

"Everyone is a customer."

"Not when they don't pay."

"Are you questioning your elder, child?"

I sucked in my breath. Though, it was not of my own will. No, this was the power of the Cruel Grandma of Bloomsbury Bakery.

My lips twisted into a tight frown. Meanwhile, Granny Bett's thin, red lips crinkled with magic.

"Customers take many forms.

Those who waltz through my doors,

are welcomed with open arms.

Whether they bare a smile,

Or carry a penny,

A Customer is a Customer,

Or, need I say more?"

My lips fell open with a sigh. My gentle hand came to rub my tight jaw before I pushed out the words I came to know well. "No, Granny Bett."

Granny nodded. Satisfied with (what I hoped to be) a solid response. Her shoulders curled lovingly as she turned on her heel. "Come, Mouse. How about Granny fetches you a slice of her famous blueberry pie?"

"O-O-Okay," Rat whimpered, her hands knitted tightly into Granny Bett's long, white braid. I narrowed my gaze at her. That was when I noticed something.

Despite her pitiful tone that wavered with every word, Rat's golden eyes were dry once again. A smile brightened her rosy cheeks as she stared at me. Then, before I could do or say anything, Rat stuck her tongue out and raised her middle finger in the air.

Oh, if only that old hag knew what a pain this Rat was.

As much as I liked the brat, I swore she only visited Granny's bakery for two reasons;

1. To torture me.

2. To get a free slice of pie.

Though, there was nothing I could do to stop her. The little six-year-old (or, was she seven?) had old Granny Bett wrapped around her little finger.

I slumped back down into my seat while Granny Bett fished the Blueberry Pie out of the display case. I had just found my place in the book when the old woman hummed.

"Any visits from the Copper Knight lately?"

The question came out overtly sweet yet bitter to my ears. I slid deeper behind the counter. "Nope."

Rat's gaze was transfixed on Granny's worn hands as she cut a slice of pie the size of the child's face. Though, as usual, her nose was digging into my business. "Copper knight?"

"Winnie's friend," Granny Bett explained with a tangy smile.

"No, he's not."

"Why not?" Rat hummed, grinning when Granny Bett reached over to retrieve the small, pink dish from beneath the register.

I still can't believe the Rat has her own plate. Yet, I have to use the cracked dishes from the back.

"Don't you have anywhere better to be?"

Rat tilted her chin up with pride. "Nope!"

I rolled my eyes. Granny Bett, on the other hand, laughed as she handed over the heavenly slice of Blueberry Pie. The old woman tucked a stray curl behind the girl's ear before humming.

"Funny. For you two not to be friends, he sure seems to be interested in you."

I hated to admit that I stiffened at that. I hated it even more that Granny Bett had noticed.

She straightened. "Or, at least, that is what the townsfolk say."

I swallowed, the act causing her green eyes to slither over her shoulder.

"Should I be worried, Winnie?"

Should she be worried?

Should I be worried?

My brows came together in thought. The memory of the other day was still fresh in my mind. Why, I don't think it ever left.

It wasn't every day you had a man come up to you only to confess his undying love for pie. I mean, yeah, sure. I worked in a bakery. A lot of people who came here loved pie.

But, this guy...

"I-I love pie."

I blinked. Then, blinked again before finally pulling my gaze away from those bubbling seas I seemed to be drowning in.

"Oh," I sighed.

Had I been holding my breath? And, why is my heart pounding so fast? Perhaps I need to lay off the coffee.

"Uh, no!" the man gasped, taking a step back. A scarred hand reached up to wipe the rain from his face while the other continued to hold the plate of Apple Pie closely. "N-No, I...That's not...W-What I mean is-"

Hm...For a Copper Knight, he sure was quiet. I would have thought that someone who was known to Hunt, he would have been louder. Boisterous. Instead, his voice kept simmering down to quiet whispers.

He must have been tired. He did look kind of rough- almost as if he had been dragged through the mud. And, I think that sour smell was coming from him.

Also, for someone who 'loves pie', it was weird for them not to eat it. Maybe he was savoring it? How long had it been since he had a slice of pie? How far did he have to travel to even find a place to eat?

Gods, I kind of felt bad for him.

Yeah, I know that is weird for a witch to admit and Granny Bett would have my head if I ever did. But, it was true.

I, Wicked Winnie of the West, felt bad for a Witch Hunter.

"Hey," I began, already regretting what I was going to say next. The man's breath caught at the sound of my voice before allowing his gaze to fall again.

Poor guy. Even his cheeks are all red. Well, they do say the East has some brutal sunny days.

"There's a ton of pies in the back if you want one."

"H-Huh?"

"You said you love pie, right? Take it. It's on the house."

"What? N-No, I can't-"

"Seriously, it's fine."

What was I saying? It totally isn't fine! Granny Bett was going to beat me senseless if she found out. Unless...

"I made three just for fun earlier. They probably aren't as good as Granny Bett's but if you want them-"

"I'll take them!"

"Oh-"

"All three, please!"

"Okay?"

"How much do I owe you?"

"Like I said, it's on the house-"

"Is this enough?"

"Uh...."

It took me forever to convince him to keep his money. After all, I was trying to do something nice for once. Also, I can't bake like Granny Bett can so those pies were never going to be good enough for the display anyway.

The crust always came out a little burnt. Not to mention, I always struggled with measurements so the filling was bitter. I even messed up on the lattice, believe it or not.

Hm, maybe I wasn't doing a nice thing. Oh, well.

I buried my face into my book as I finally answered, "No, Granny Bett."

The old witch hummed in response. I couldn't tell if she was satisfied with my answer but she seemed to leave the topic be. Why, she even patted my shoulder before slinking back into the kitchen. It was a ghostly touch but one I still appreciated.

Rat, on the other hand, tended to business that wasn't hers. "Winnie, what's a Copper Knight?"

I cursed silently before huffing, "It's what it sounds like."

Rat sang out with a mouth full of blueberries, "Which is?"

Gods, this kid was going to be the death of me.

"It's a knight but, instead of silver, they wear armor made of copper. Happy?"

"Hm," she chewed. Her golden gaze fluttered towards the window. A smile tugged at her lips. "Hey, what does your friend look like?"

"He's not my friend."

"Okay. What does your not friend look like?"

Can I just go one day without being bothered? Just one, that's all I ask for.

"Gods, Rat, I don't know."

"How can you not know? Did you look at him? Was he wearing a helmet? Ooh, was he wearing a mask? Because if so, I know a kid who also likes to wear masks. But his are scary. Like really scary. Was his scary? Is that why you didn't look at him? Or do witches have something against redheads? I read somewhere-"

"Wait." I blinked. Lifting my head out of the story I tried so desperately to bury myself in, I snatched my gaze over to Rat. "How do you know he's a redhead?"

Shoving the last bite of Blueberry Pie into her mouth, Rat pointed her fork towards the large window behind her. "Cause," she mumbled through bits of creamy filling, "he's outside."