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CYRANO

B en looks at the wall of pebble necklace chains proudly. “See? It’s nice. Our customers will love it.”

He’s added prices above every peg, which is strictly against tradition. I think it’s because most welders charge whatever they think the penguin shifter in question can afford.

“Everyone’s going to hate us for doing this,” I warn him.

“Let them hate us. It’s the right thing to do,” he says.

The last time I let Ben talk me into doing the right thing we ended up with a pet tortoise. My phone rings. I pull it out of my back pocket. It’s Todd.

“Hello?”

“You’re not going to believe what happened,” he says.

The door to the shop opens. Heller walks inside. He’s wearing all black, which is a little weird. He even has a face mask on. But it’s cold outside, so maybe that’s why. Or maybe it’s one of his burlesque costumes.

“Hi, Heller,” Ben says.

I wave to Heller to, but I don’t think he sees me.

“Hold on,” I tell Todd. “Let me go upstairs to the living quarters so I can talk.” I turn around and walk toward the staircase at the back of the forge.

Behind me, I hear Heller say, “I need these chains.”

“Oh, is the Ivanov doing Pebble Gifting Season this year? That’s fun.” Ben chatters happily.

That’s strange. Sergey didn’t do Pebble Gifting Season at the Ivanov forge last year or the year before. He didn’t mention anything about starting this year or using some of our chains. Maybe he’s feeling sentimental because Heller’s pregnant.

“What’s going on?” I ask Todd, climbing the steps.

“Heller’s nesting.”

I stop mid-step. “What?”

“Yeah. He took all my chain inventory for Pebble Gifting Season. I was just calling because he might come your way.”

I spin around and bound down the stairs.

“Heller, you have to leave some for us,” Ben says.

Heller has cleared out almost half of our chain inventory too, starting with the most expense chains. The little fucker. He holds out something to Ben. At first I’m worried it’s a taser. You never know with Heller. He stole millions of dollars in jewelry last time he nested, and he must have gotten away with that much loot somehow. But it’s a credit card.

“Stop him, he’s nesting!” I yell.

Ben turns around calmly. “But he gave us a card. See? He’s paying this time. That’s improvement.”

Heller feverishly fills a garbage bag with our remaining pebble necklace chains.

“He can’t buy all our pebble necklace chains the day before Pebble Gifting Season. Hurry, Ben. Stop him!”

But Heller has cleared out the remaining necklaces. He darts up to Ben and takes the card that he was supposedly using to pay for the chains, then dashes out the door, the bell ringing as he leaves.

“Oh.” Ben says. “I guess he didn’t pay.” He looks at the pegs that he lovingly labeled this week, now completely empty. “At least no one will be mad at us for listing our prices.”

That’s my sweet Ben. Forever the optimist.

“I better call Sergey. He should probably know that Heller’s running around town, stealing everyone’s pebble necklace chains.”

Ben smiles. “It’s kind of like he’s the Grinch, you know? But instead of stealing Christmas presents the night before Christmas, he’s stealing necklaces the day before Pebble Gifting Season. It’s cute if you think about it that way.”

“It’s a fucking problem, that’s what it is. What are we going to do when thousands of penguin shifters descend upon Anchorage, and there aren’t any pebble necklace chains? Do penguin shifters ever riot?”

Ben laughs. “I hope they do it in their tuxedos. It will be the fanciest riot ever.”

For Ice’s sake. We need to stop Heller before he takes any more necklaces.