Chapter One: Who was that woman?
Jet stared at the ground moodily. His mother, a woman who was obsessed with social standing, chatted to her equally-obsessed friends. A fat woman strolled by, her servants laden with various bits of shopping. All the women stopped gossiping and seemed to stand to attention. Her eyes moved lazily over the women – and paused on Jet. Her mouth opened wide in a terrifying smile and she spoke to the boy. "Well, well, well. What a handsome young man. And what is your name?" Jet saw his mother's face grow sly as he answered "Jet, ma'am." The fat lady's grin grew wider. "Well, Jet. Perhaps you and your parents would like to join my daughters and myself for dinner tomorrow evening." The woman nodded once and left without bothering to hear Jet's answer.
His mother was quiet until the fat woman was out of hearing range. Then, making excuses to the other women, she force-marched him home. "We'll gave to do something about your hair, Jet. It's ridiculously long." As she spoke, she cast an appraising eye over Jet's hair: it was shoulder length, and he'd only just got it to the length he wanted. "Oh… I have an appointment at the dressmakers! I forgot!" His mother turned to him. "Listen to me, Jet. You go straight home, clear?" Jet nodded sullenly. He was sixteen, after all! He should be able to make his own decisions! His mother hurried off, leaving Jet to his own devices.
The young man walked through the streets, visiting his favourite shops. He walked by the strange dusty shop with no name in the nearly-deserted street with the funny name, always looking so out of place in the glamorous town, and was surprised when the door opened. A young woman came out with a box under her arm. "Thank you again, Mr Coombe! I'm sure he'll keep better time now!" Jet found himself staring at her: her clothes were more outrageous than anything he'd ever seen before! They were a riot of colours, and the design of the clothes was foreign to him: a long skirt in rainbow colours, a loose shirt of sky blue with long silvery sleeves, and a waist-length coat of green and brown that hung from her shoulders. But if her clothes attracted his attention then her face held it. As she turned to move out into the street, Jet caught sight of her eyes. They were a vivid green, and unlike any other eyes he'd ever seen. Her hair was black, but the memorable green of her eyes was streaked through it.
She paused for a moment and juggled the box in an attempted to reach into her pockets. Then, eerily, she looked straight at him. "Here, hold this for a second, will you?" The box was shoved into his hands. Something inside seemed to be muttering to itself, but Jet was more interested in the things the woman pulled from her pockets: a spyglass, a strange bottle filled with emerald syrup, a string of black pearls, twine, paper and pens, a half-eaten chocolate bar, and a strange figuring of a man carved from jade. Finally she seemed to find what she was looking for: a golden pocket watch, the gold sheathing rubbed away in places with numerous dents. She opened it and muttered "Why am I always late?!" before shoving everything into her pockets. She took the back and said "Thanks." She then walked away so quickly that it seemed like she disappeared, leaving Jet to stand stupidly in the middle of the almost-deserted street.
Jet couldn't stop thinking about the girl. All through dinner, the whirl of rainbow skirt, the cool things she pulled out of impossible pockets – all them unique to carry around – only made him think of her more. After dinner he went for a walk in the streets surrounding his house in an effort to clear his head.
The light was fading, but Jet didn't mind. He reflected on the day, and dwelt again on the strange girl. A hand from no-where grabbed him and pulled him off the otherwise deserted street. He started to protest, but an icy hand clamped over his mouth. He began to struggle, but stopped when he saw his captor was the girl from that afternoon. Her eyes, so green before, were now black. Her hair was now an odd silvery colour – like moonlight. "Keep very still…" she murmured in his ear, so quietly it was very difficult to hear. Jet noticed the temperature drop, and shivered ever-so-slightly as he was chilled right through. But the girl was very warm, and she was very close. A slithering sound made its way up the narrow street – like the sound of the movements of a giant snake. A huge shadow undulated its way past – it took up nearly the whole street. Then it was gone, and Jet found he could breathe again. The girl frowned, and suddenly her eyes and hair were green again. "I'm sorry I had to yank you off the street like that, but there wasn't any other way to save you from being eaten." Jet watched her step cautiously out into the street… and gasped as the snake-monster struck her.
Jet rushed out onto the street, intent on helping mysterious woman who had saved from the snake-monster. He found it tying itself in knots, practically helpless, as the girl moved her fingers on her right hand over the shadow. "Magic…" Jet gasped and the girl's eyes and hair turned blood red. The snake-thing burst into flames and burned up.
When it was fully burned, the fire faded into girl's hands and her shoulders slumped a little. "I'm so out of practice…" she muttered and turned back to Jet. "Sorry you had to see that. Nasty little bugger. Now…" she grabbed hold of his hands, and suddenly they were flying. They flew over the streets, and Jet could see how far he'd wandered. They touched down inside his room, and Jet felt himself stagger. She caught him in a surprisingly strong grip, and said "Stay inside tonight, ok? She might send other's, and your scent is mingled with mine. But they can't come inside unless you invite them." Jet nodded, and she leaped to perch on the windowsill. "I guess I'll see you around. Oh, and boy? Don't get involved with any fat women named Ginger, and especially don't say anything about me to anyone." Jet frowned as the girl called him 'boy' and said "My name is Jet." The girl raised an eyebrow and inclined her head. "I am known by many names, but the one I prefer is Ceira." Then she fell out of the window. He rushed to it, only to find the street below and the sky both deserted.
