The Scene of the Crime

By the time she reached the front door, Serendipity was crying. Pozzletot was one of the few beings in the world she could count as a friend, and the thought of him all alone up in the North Pole, in hiding somewhere, afraid for his life, brought a feeling of overwhelming despair. As her feet pounded up the steps, caked in mud by now, she did not even pause to think about what she was doing, where she was going, or what had happened there; she simply needed help--help that only Maevis could provide.

As she threw the heavy front door open, calling her friend’s name, rushing in as she did so, she nearly ran into Ms. Crotlybloom who had come to see what all the racket was. The older woman reached out a thin arm to steady her, but then gasped in horror at the sight. “Serendipity?” she asked, her eyes wide behind her wire spectacles. “Is that you, child?”

“Oh, Ms. Crotlybloom!” Serendipity exclaimed, bending over to catch her breath