Those who saw her called her the devil-child even though she was neither a devil nor a child. Or maybe she was. No one could say for certain. She herself was certain of nothing.

She was small, not even five feet tall, and had perpetually unkempt white hair. Maintaining her appearance was not something she knew how to do. No one had ever taught her. She couldn’t remember a mother, a father, or anyone permanent. Her life had only ever been an ever-changing sea of immemorable faces. Truly, the only permanent thing was the giant fang that dangled on a string around her neck. She couldn’t remember who had given it to her, only that it was hers and it kept the ghosts away.

The morning was so cold it made her bones ache. Snow got in over the edges of her boots and her feet went numb. Her fang necklace shook as she ran down the village path. Every dwelling was quiet. She wondered if anyone lived here at all.

A call from one lodge answered her question. “Is that you, devil-child?”

She stopped and looked over.

An old woman leaned in the entryway. “Come closer, dear.”

That confused her. Everyone always wanted her to go away. People she stayed with tended to disappear. Nevertheless, she stepped closer.

“Why don’t you come in? You look cold.” The old woman beckoned her. “You must be hungry too, poor thing.”

It was true; she was cold and hungry. It had been days since the last village disappeared. Still, the devil-child hesitated. Why would anyone be kind to her when she only made people disappear and everyone knew it?

The old woman patted her shoulder. “It’s all right, dear. And I’m lonely. Do you want me to be all alone?”

As she followed the old woman inside, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of irritation at her condescending tone. The little house only had one room, but it was warm enough. She tracked snow across the floor as she stepped in. Then she remembered vaguely from somewhere that people found that rude. She flushed a little, then reached out and closed the door without even lifting a limb.

The old woman looked astonished. “Did you do that, dear?”

The devil-child nodded and gave a small smile. A little tuft of white hair fell over her eyes.

“That was amazing.” The old woman sat down in a chair that creaked beneath her weight. “What’s your name?”

She looked to one side, then the other, then down at the floor. “Kolo,” she said. That was her name. Like her necklace, she couldn’t remember where it came from, only that it was hers.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Kolo.” The old woman leaned back. “Everyone here in Felltree calls me Nana. I might as well be everyone’s grandmother.” She gave a warm smile. “Want something to eat?”

Kolo nodded. “Please.”

Nana stood up and ambled over to a cabinet on the wall. She opened it up and poked her wrinkled nose inside. “Let’s see. Oh, that’s no good. I’d better throw that out. Um…I have some dried venison. Does that sound good?”

“Yes,” said Kolo.

“All right. I think so too.” Nana returned and handed her a strip of dried meat. “I’ve got plenty more if you want it.”

Kolo took a bite and felt more relaxed immediately. Maybe this Nana wasn’t so bad. Her food was good, at least. She devoured the rest.

“How old are you, Kolo?” Nana asked. “You’re small, but you actually don’t look like a child to me.”

Kolo shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have a family?” Nana asked. “Where’d you come from?”

She stayed silent.

“You really don’t know?” Nana raised her patchy gray eyebrows. “Not at all?”

“No.” Kolo scratched her head. More hair fell in her eyes. She clawed it away.

Nana nodded. “All right, then. If you don’t know who you are, then who do you want to be?”

Kolo blinked. No one had ever asked her anything like that before. She didn’t know how to answer. She twisted her necklace between her fingers. “Strong,” she said. “I want to be strong.”

“Is there something scaring you?” Nana asked. “And you want to be strong enough to not be scared?”

That startled Kolo. She didn’t know how Nana could have figured it out so fast. Maybe someone so old had more experience in that sense.

Nana sat down again. “So, what’s scaring you, my dear?”

Kolo didn’t want to say anything. She was afraid that if she told Nana what was coming, then Nana wouldn’t want her around anymore. She shivered.

“You’re still cold? Here, take my chair. I’ll get you a blanket.” Nana stood up and patted the seat of her chair.

Kolo sat down. The chair creaked under her. She tensed a bit. “I’m not scared,” she lied.

Nana rummaged around and came back with a shabby wool blanket. “Here you go.”

Kolo took the scratchy blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was warm, at least.

“You don’t have to lie. You don’t have to be afraid, either. You’ll be safe with me, Kolo. Understand?” The woman patted her head. Kolo flinched. Nana chuckled. “You and I are going to be great friends, I’m sure. So what’s the matter?”

Kolo reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of crumpled parchment.

“What’s that?” Nana asked.

“Will we still be friends if I show you?” Kolo asked.

“Of course,” said Nana. “I swear it.”

Kolo uncrumpled the parchment to reveal an awful sketch of her monster. It was a man with a head like a sabretooth cat’s skull. “He makes everyone disappear,” said Kolo.

Nana’s eyes widened. “Disappear? What do you mean?”

Kolo drew a finger across her neck.

Nana averted her gaze. Her hands clasped together.

Kolo looked down. “Sorry.” She shouldn’t have shown Nana that. Now Nana would be scared to keep her around and she would be alone again, right when she had started to connect with someone. She let the parchment fall to the floor. The sabretooth man seemed to gaze back at her through the ink.

Nana bent down and picked the drawing up. “You know, Kolo, you’re actually a great artist. Do you like to draw a lot?”

Kolo raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“I mean, to make something like this takes a great deal of creativity.” Nana traced her finger along the lines and smiled. “What’s his name?”

Kolo glowered. “You don’t believe me?”

“Your monsters can only hurt you as long as you let them,” said Nana. “I’m sure what you’re feeling is very real, but believe me when I say that he can’t hurt you.” She patted Kolo on the shoulder.

Kolo crossed her arms. “People disappeared.”

“But did you disappear?” Nana asked. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”

There was a loud whoosh overhead. The roof shook a little and then pattered fiercely beneath a torrent of sleet. A drop of freezing water fell through the ceiling onto Kolo’s head. She flinched.

“Goodness, I hate rain.” Nana handed the parchment back to Kolo. “Wasn’t expecting it today either.”

Kolo stood up. Sitting right under a leak was far less than ideal. She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and paced a few laps around the room.

Nana went over to the cabinet again. “I really ought to throw out this old loaf. Kolo, mind opening the door like you did earlier?”

Kolo felt a little tinge of excitement at that request. She looked at the door and pulled it open with her mind. The icy downpour swept into the room and showered the floorboards. Nana threw an arm up to shield herself, then went to the threshold and tossed a moldy piece of bread outside. Kolo watched it fly and then fall with a wet plop into the snow.

Then she saw a group of men running their way, all with spears. Nana shrugged, then closed the door.

Kolo opened her mouth to say something, but Nana put a finger on her lips. “Shhh.”

Kolo’s heart pounded. Did they know she was here? Were they coming for her? She got up and retreated into the corner behind a shelf of old books. The dust made her sneeze. She tried to suppress it and made a sound like a dog about to vomit.

Three heavy knocks shook the door. “Who’s in there?”

Nana leaned against the door and spoke calmly. “Nana. Who else? I live here, you fools.”

A long pause followed. Kolo wiped cold sweat off her forehead.

“Miss, I don’t know who you are or why you sound so much like her,” said one of the men. “But we found her body this morning.”

Kolo’s eyes shot wide open.

“I don’t know what you think you saw,” said Nana, “but I’m very much alive. Here. I’ll show you.” She opened the door.

Kolo peeked out a little. There were five men with spears at the door. All of them looked bewildered. Nana looked much too relaxed. Kolo darted back behind the shelf.

“Who’s that girl?” asked the one in front.

“None of your business,” said Nana. “I’d really rather you left me alone now. I’m not dead and I’m not humoring your little delusion.”

“You’re giving us reason to suspect you were both involved in her murder.” He waved the other men forward. “Take them for questioning.”

Kolo gathered all her forces into one hand and punched the wall. With a resonant boom, her fist smashed open a massive hole. Splinters of wood flew everywhere. She darted out.

Outside was another man, likely a neighbor who had overheard the commotion. “You killed Nana? Why? Why would you do that?” He seized her by the arm before she could run.

Kolo tried to yank her arm back. He tackled her to the ground and pinned her down with a knee on her chest. He yelled to the men with spears. “I’ve got her! Over here!”

She heard Nana yell. Mid-sentence, her voice changed to that of a much younger woman. “You don’t know who you’re up against, you curs!”

Hearing the change in Nana’s voice, Kolo’s heart skipped a beat. What was going on? She picked her head up and tried to bite the man on top of her. He grabbed her neck in a rough chokehold. Kolo gagged and spat at him, to no avail.

She saw all their feet surround her. “If it isn’t the devil-child,” said one of the men with spears.

Everyone went dead silent.

“You know what that means, doesn’t it?” the changed woman asked. There was a hint of a grin in her voice.

Kolo fought for air. Her vision started to blur. She dug her nails into the snow and clawed at the dirt beneath. Her eyelids squeezed shut.

Then, without warning, her assailant’s grip loosened. Some thing hot and wet splattered her, boiling in contrast to the icy rain. The man collapsed on top of her so hard she bit the inside of her cheek. Her eyes snapped open.

The sabretooth man yanked his sword out of her assailant’s back.

Kolo gasped. Her monster had saved her. Why?

Two of the spearmen rushed in behind him. His head jerked around. She saw clearly, then, a human face beneath the mask. His sword flashed through the air and snapped the heads off both their spears. A second slash cut both attackers down with a wet crunch. The rain drank their blood greedily.

Kolo wriggled out from under the corpse and was about to run when her monster spoke a single command. “Now stay.”

Her limbs froze as if the universe had somehow forced them to. Fear ripped through her like teeth. She saw the now-unfamiliar woman run. The three remaining spearmen tried to chase her, but the sabretooth man blocked their way. He dodged their spears with ease. Kolo watched him impale one through the chest, slash another’s throat, and split open the third man’s torso in barely a minute. They dropped to the icy ground like discarded dolls.

Then it was silent except for the sound of his panting. Kolo stared at him as he turned around. He looked down at her through his fanged mask.

Face to face with her monster, Kolo was petrified. She shook all over. Cold sweat ran down her face.

He extended his hand.