“Damsel of Distress,” the man said. He wore a mask with antlers at the corner, forking and extending into the wild locks of hair. He’d used face paint to blend his face into the mask, but the paint mixed multiple colors, with a golden sheen to the paint above his eyes and black on his lower eyelids and lower eye socket. He wore a jacket that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Robin Hood, with a stag’s head and a singular antler in gold, running from the collarbone, along the collar, and over one shoulder. “What brings you to Cedar Point?”

“Is it Cedar Point or Hollow Point?”

“That depends on who you ask. Some of the more colorful locals prefer the latter.”

“The capes.”

“The capes. Yes. I’m guessing you’re here for them more than you’re here for the shopping.”

“I’m here to see what’s here,” she said. She turned away from him to pick through some clothes. She lifted the sleeve of a dress that was still on the rack, the dress was opaque, but the sleeve was sheer with a lace pattern worked into it.

“And?”

“And I’m not impressed so far.”

“What did you expect to find that you’re not seeing?”

“Organization. A timely response to my arrival. I’ve been walking around for nearly half an hour and you’re the first person to show their face.”

“We prefer discretion.”

“It feels toothless. A sanctuary for villains, and you let people walk in here without stopping them?”

“We’ve been keeping a close eye on you.”

“Eyes aren’t teeth.”

“Some are, when you add powers to the mix. Shall we take this discussion outside?”

Ashley looked at the two dresses in her hand. She put one back where it belonged, and then approached the counter.

“Um,” the salesgirl said. “You can have it. It’s on the house.”

“Is it?” Ashley asked.

“Store policy. The owner hopes that you’ll have a positive view of the store, in case of future trouble. Would you like a bag?”

Ashley looked at the dress, then shook her head, slinging the dress over one shoulder. She looked at the villain with the antlers. “We can talk outside.”

“I’ll be right with you.”

She walked out of the store, glancing over one shoulder to see him discreetly passing some bills to the salesgirl, who ducked her head in acknowledgement.

The streets were mostly empty, without many cars, parked or otherwise. Some of the stores had tunnels or alleys that led to parking lots, but even those didn’t have many vehicles. Employee parking, when many stores had only one employee on average.

“I’m Prancer, by the by,” Prancer said, as he exited the store.

“The messenger.”

“I’m—no. Not a messenger,” he said. “If Cedar Point is anyone’s, it’s mine.”