“Ignore his horrible sign,” the old woman insists, giving the man a blazing look of disgust. She gestures toward the Black Witch toy still gripped in my fist. “Take it, toiya,” she says, rebellious support shining in her dark eyes. “You smash that witch with the mallet when the moon turns lavender.” Her smile makes a faltering return as she pats my arm. “There’s a prize inside her head, and it will give you good luck for the whole year. It is our tradition. You’ve come a long way to get here, toiya. I want to give you some luck and good wishes. I am happy you are here and safe from Her.” She pointedly glances down at the toy.

I struggle to ignore Bleddyn’s incredulous grin.

“Here, you take one too,” the woman says to Bleddyn, handing her another toy.

“So... I just smash her head in for luck?” Bleddyn clarifies, her grin widening. “Can I use a bigger hammer?”

The woman nods with enthusiasm. “Any hammer you like, toiya.” She slices the air with her hand emphatically. “Just knock her head right off and claim your prize.”

I look back at the hostile merchant and his head whips angrily away. I notice he’s selling mostly figurines of Vo, the Noi people’s dragon goddess, Her purple incarnation wreathed in a spiral of white birds.

Gripping the figurine, I turn back to the old woman, who is still smiling warmly at me. I know she’s trying to be kind by making a point of publicly welcoming two refugees. But as I glance at the figurine’s small hammer, I can’t help but think of the Gardnerian winged Yule cookies and how my people break their wings.

“Thank you,” I tell her shakily. She nods and pats my arm again, perhaps taking my flustered demeanor as my being overcome with gratitude.

Bleddyn flashes one last smile at the woman, and we move to take our leave.

“Go back to where you came from!”

It startles me, the venom in the man’s tone, slowing both Bleddyn’s and my steps as we look at him in surprise.

“Be sure to smash the witch for luck!” the woman counters, too loudly, and I know the comment is actually meant for the man—her way of pushing her support of us in his face. Her eyes meet ours in blaring solidarity and her defiant kindness sparks a stronger resolve in me—to get my power unbound so I can smash Vogel down before he can reach this land and this welcoming old woman selling Black Witch toys.

“There are a lot of those signs,” I note as Bleddyn and I advance down the Sixth Tier thoroughfare, weaving around the thickening pedestrian and street traffic.