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Traci's starting to think that maybe sneaking out after dinner wasn't such a good idea after all.
The big, sprawling forest that stretches out forever around Doomsbury is her favorite place to play. Daddy always tells her to stay close to the manor, don't wander off, and Traci always nods and smiles and says yes back and waits until he goes inside to work on a book or a case before turning around and sprinting off into the undergrowth. She knows every tree here. The nice ones that drop their fruit for her when she can't climb high enough to reach, the ones that talk back and tell her stories, the ones that throw sticks and acorns at her, the ones that have tiny doors tucked between their roots that lead to tiny houses for tiny spirits. Traci never feels scared in the woods.
At least, she doesn't during the day.
But it's getting dark now, the sun sinking below the horizon to go to sleep, and she can't find the path she usually takes to the little stream in the middle of the forest. Her heart is starting to beat faster, hard enough that she knows any of the bad things that hide in the shadows can hear it.
"Shh." She presses a hand to her chest with a scolding whisper, feeling it race rabbit-fast beneath her palm. Traci slows to a stop beneath a tree and bites her lip. She leans against it, taking some of the strain of the heavy backpack off her shoulders. It's stuffed full of ingredients. Bark and berries, pebbles and shells and feathers. Traci read in a book, one of her mother's that Daddy keeps hidden away in the attic, that moss collected by moonlight is good for lots of stuff. And Traci wants to do so, so much stuff. She's going to be just as good at magic as her mom, no matter what Daddy says.
She lowers her hand and cups it against her other one, concentrating hard. She can do this. It's just a light spell. It's so easy a baby could do it, and Traci's no baby. She stares down at her hands, whispering the word her mom taught her before she…
A tiny spark flickers to life in the space between her palms. Traci holds her breath, scared she'll blow it out by accident, and then lets it out again noisily, annoyed at herself. That's not how magic works. The spark gets bigger and bigger until it's a ball of shifting light, painting her skin and the surrounding woods a soft blue.
The man standing in front of her is also blue.
Traci squeaks and jerks backwards, dropping the ball. The man leans in and scoops it up before it can fade away, balancing it on gloved fingers. She blinks at him, startled. Where'd he come from? She hadn't heard any footsteps.
"Hello, Traci," the man says, smiling down at her. It's hard to make out his face beneath the brim of his hat.
She lifts her chin and squints. "I don't know you."
"We've met once before, when you were very young. I suppose you wouldn't remember." He pauses and she shakes her head. "I'm a friend of your father's."
"I don't believe it."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't look like any of Daddy's other friends." Traci studies him dubiously. He's tall, enough that it hurts her neck to look up at him, and he's dressed funny. His clothes are all the same dark blue, including his cloak and his hat, but his sweater is white like his eyes. "They're boring."
"I can be rather boring myself."
Traci laughs, then covers her mouth. "You can do magic like me, right?" she asks, mumbling between fingers. He has to if he can hold the light. "So you're not. Magic's super cool."
The man keeps smiling but doesn't answer. "It's very late for a child to be out all alone."
"I'm nine," Traci counters, hiking the straps of her backpack up. "And I'm busy. I need to find ingredients for my spells."
She tries to step forward and duck around the man, but he blocks her path with his cloak. "It's too dangerous, Traci. These woods are on old land. Not everything that lives here is willing to let you roam unhindered."
She scrunches her nose up. "I can take care of myself! I'm not a little kid."
"Of that I'm sure. But I believe your father would rather you be in bed."
"But-"
"Would this help change your mind?" He reaches into his cloak. pulling out something small and glittering.
Traci takes it cautiously, eyes going wide. It's a glass jar full of the moss she was looking for, glowing with a soft, silvery light. She blinks at it and then glances back up at the man. "How did you know I wanted this?"
"Perhaps I'm Santa Claus."
She giggles despite herself, shaking her head again. "No, you're not."
"All right, then." The man laughs too. "Perhaps I'm from the future instead."
"I think you're weird." Traci shrugs her backpack off, unzipping it and carefully tucking the jar inside. "But thank you." She pauses for a moment, considering. "Are you really Daddy's friend?"
"Is that surprising?"
"Uh-huh. He doesn't like magic."
"I know." He sounds a little sad now. "Your father is a temperamental man, but good at heart. I was sorry to hear about your mother's passing."
Traci bites the inside of her cheek, blinking hard. Don't cry. She takes a step back and scrutinizes the man. She likes him, she thinks. He seems nice. "Can you teach me? Spells and stuff, I mean."
He smiles again. "If our paths cross, which I'm certain they will. But for now-" he holds out a white-gloved hand, "-I think it's time we went home."
Traci puts her backpack back on and takes it, surprised at how cold he is. She pokes at his arm experimentally. "Are you a ghost?" She's seen them in Doomsbury before, but they're not fun to talk to. They mostly just cry.
"Some do call me a phantom of sorts," he replies, turning and leading her through the trees. The trail she'd lost earlier reappears beneath their feet.
"That's not an answer!"
The man doesn't say anything else. She huffs, following him with a frown. The forest starts thinning out the closer they get to Doomsbury, trees shrinking behind them. There's a light on in one of the big front windows and Traci swallows. Daddy's probably going to be mad.
She stops at the edge of the lawn so she can thank the man again, but he's gone when she looks up. Traci blinks, then stares at her hand. That's not fair. She wants to be able to do that too.
A loud creak catches her attention and she turns back around, watching the manor doors swing open. Daddy comes running out, dropping to his knees in front of her and pulling her into a hug that's so tight it's hard to breath. "Traci! I told you never to go into the woods at night."
"I know," she mumbles into his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I got lost. But this man helped me-"
Daddy pulls back, staring at her. His glasses are crooked. "What man?"
"He said he was Santa, but I know he's not." Traci glances back into the trees. "He was really nice. He-" She stops herself before she mentions the moss, just in case Daddy will make her get rid of it. "He had this funny cape and everything, and he said he was your friend."
"Stranger," Daddy mutters, so quiet Traci barely hears him.
"Is he?"
"It's…complicated. It's a very long story, peanut."
"You can tell me," Traci argues back, but Daddy just shakes his head and stands up.
"The only thing you're doing right now is going straight to bed."
Traci sighs loudly, trudging her way after him to the manor. She stops on the front steps, giving the forest a quick wave before darting inside, just in case the strange man is still out there watching.