Tiny Raven

Landlords and Leases

I had expected to find my landlady at the front desk. Her bright red perm a beacon in the building lobby.

Instead it was her dark haired daughter behind the desk. She had her head down, busy with something I couldn’t see.

“Moira!” I called as I walked over. I tried not to fidget too much with the sleeves of my shirt. Part of me wanted to bolt back upstairs, back into my bedroom, find something to cover my arms further. Arm warmers or fingerless gloves. I didn’t. “It’s been a while!”

The woman jumped, looking up to smile at me.

“Theresa Navarro!” she said with a wide grin. “It has been a while. How is your sister?”

“Doing great,” I said.

Moira was one of Abby’s friends. Her first client when she was a new lawyer, fresh out of law school.

Moira had married a real piece of work. He had cheated on her and when she called for divorce he flipped on her. Claiming she was abusive and neglectful toward their kids. Near the end of the proceedings, when she had sought out Abby, Moira had little left.

It was looking like she wasn’t going to even have visitation with her kids.

Abby had happened to learn about what was going on, and had offered Moira help. Moira hadn’t dared hope for more than weekend visitation. Her ex-husband was vindictive, rich, and had friends in the right places.

Abby was tenacious. She spent all her time on the case, eventually finding proof that the ex was abusive. Both to his former mistress and to the children.

Moira left court with full custody and generous child support.

Her ex left with supervised visitation. He’d even been forced to pay Moira’s legal fees.

Every year or two he dragged everyone back to court.

Every year or two Abby continued to win the case against him.

She had joked once that he kept her in business.

Moira held her phone out to me, flipping through photos too fast for me to see them.

“My Mizuki just had her eighth birthday! Can you believe it?”

She paused on a picture and I finally recognized the little girl int he photos. She had a big gap toothed smile and a plastic tiara.

“Little girl’s growing up,” Moira said with a sigh as she pulled her phone back. She stared at the image with a fond smile. “I’m in your sister’s debt.”

She stared at the picture on screen for a few more seconds before placing the device screen-down on the table in front of her. “Look at me, gushing about Mizuki when you’re a busy woman. What can I do for you?”

“I need to get him on my lease,” I said with a glance back at Sans.

The monster was standing behind me and to the left, looking bored and disinterested. He tensed when he saw my eye on him, then shifted into a scowl, rolling his shoulders forward.

Moira hummed in acknowledgement, opening her laptop.

“Never thought you would own a monster,” she admitted as the computer booted. Her tone was conversational and curious, enquiring without demanding explanation.

My chest tightened with self-accusatory anxiety, and I forced myself to remain calm.

“It’s a surprise for me, too,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. I shrugged and chuckled, ignoring the discomfort that settled in my gut.

“Well, I’m certain you have a good reason,” Moira said gently. She knew how uncomfortable I was. I hadn’t exactly hidden it.

Then she laughed.

“I’m glad you caught me instead of mom! She would have all sorts of questions. You’d have to listen to her ramble while she found the paperwork.” Moira rolled her eyes in affectionate exasperation. “She doesn’t trust computers. Still sends me the physical files once a week to digitize for her.”

“With how much she prints out I wouldn’t have guessed,” I admitted with a laugh.

I was convinced that the landlady was keeping the paper industry alive single handed. She printed handouts and notices for the entire building, occasionally daily. Whenever she deemed something important enough to share I’d find a new note pinned to my door. Or in my mailbox. Chain emails, inspiration quotes, quirky memes … I never quite knew what to expect.

She seemed to be quite comfortable with computers.

On the other hand, it had taken nearly six hours to transfer the lease into my name. I’d waited as she figured out where the preprinted paperwork was filed.

I had suggested printing new paperwork, since that would be easier, but she refused.

I was still a little salty about it. I had ended up missing a shift and losing a job because of it.

“There is a small fee for monsters, but I’ll waive that in honor of Mizuki’s birthday,” Moira said with a wink. She put her laptop on the counter so I could see the details. “You have plenty of room, and I assume he’s not dangerous. He is well … controlled, right?”

“He’s not a wild animal,” I said, gritting my teeth in an attempt to be polite. When she stared at me, waiting for an answer, I sighed. “Of course he’s not dangerous.”

I couldn’t blame her. The media was constantly demonizing monsters, making them out to be little more than beasts. A lot of people believed the propaganda and lies, even though the evidence wasn’t there to support it.

Since breaking the barrier no monster had harmed a human outside of self-defense. The opposite was not true.

“How much is the fee?” I asked getting the topic off of the mistreatment of monsters.

I didn’t want to get into that particular argument right now. Certainly not with Moira.

I also didn’t like the idea that I was getting something for free. Abby had helped Moira, not me. I felt like I was using my sister, and it felt like a scummy thing to do.

“One fifty per monster,” Moira said, and my conscience cleared. I could afford it but only barely. If Moira was willing to waive the fee, I wasn’t going to say no.

Moira sighed, “We had to put it in place after someone in another building had … well … Monster insurance is new and it’s still full of problems. The monster did massive amounts of damage – nearly burned the place down. We had to gut the entire unit, as well as the ones above and below. We’re lucky no one got hurt. We’re lucky we didn’t lose the building entirely.”

I stared at Moira, wide-eyed and wondering what the monster had done to cause that much damage.

“After that we found a good insurance company,” she continued. “The deposit goes to cleaning costs usually. If something happens it goes to paying our deductible. It’s just like any other security deposit.”

“Recurring?” I asked with a frown, already trying to figure out where I could find an extra hundred fifty dollars a month.

“No,” Moira said. “No. It’s more like a pet deposit. There will be no increase to your rent.”

I nodded, relaxing a little.

Moira switched from friendly conversation to customer service in a blink, leaving me behind.

“Let’s see … do you have his ID number handy?”

I scrambled to pull Sans’ paperwork from my bag, disoriented by the switch back to business. I stopped when he began saying the number instead. Slow and clear, enunciating it so she could type it in and he wouldn’t have to repeat it.

Moira verified the number as I watched, out of place.

“Your full name?”

“Sans,” he said in that same clear way. “S-A-N-S.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Sans,” Moira said with a bright smile. She held out her hand to him. “My name is Moira Edamura.”

Sans looked at her outstretched hand uncertainly, before cautiously taking it in his own.

“You too.”

She smiled as she pulled away, returning to the form on her laptop.

“Do you have a last name? A surname, family name, patronym, anything like that?”

“Nope,” Sans said with a shrug.

“Most monsters don’t, I’ve gathered,” Moira said. She tried clicking away from the box but the computer kept highlighting it in red. “Ugh, why can’t I leave it blank?”

“Put ‘the Skeleton,’ ” Sans suggested. “That should be enough to differentiate me from any other ‘Sanses’ out there.”

I blinked at him. His words had a bite to them, sarcastic and cynical.

Was ‘Sans’ a common name in the Underground or something? I wasn’t sure.

“Thank you!” Moira said, ignoring or ignorant of Sans’ change in tone.

The computer accepted the additional information and Moira turned to me. We went through my information, verifying that everything was correct. Simple to do even if I had to pull out my wallet to check my license number.

“And your emergency contacts,” Moira said as I put my bag back together. “They’re still Alexander Moore, Abigail Moore, and Karen Mi-”

“Take her off,” I said quickly, speaking over my mother’s surname. “It’s only Abby and Xander now.”

Moira frowned and I could see the conflict in her. She had known Xander for over a decade, Abby nearly as long. She was familiar with the dynamics in my family.

She was someone who believed family, for better or worse, was important. That they should stick together.

She wanted to pry, get me to explain why my mom was getting the boot. At the same time she wanted to respect my privacy.

“We got in a fight,” I explained with a sigh, half expecting a lecture. “It’s been a long time coming. I cut her off.”

Moira hummed and removed my mother from the paperwork. I almost didn’t hear her mutter.

“About time.”

I grinned.

“The last thing I need is both your signatures,” she said. I heard the laser printer in the office start up.

“By signing you are agreeing to not destroy the apartment,” she said to Sans. Then she turned to me as she continued, “And if Sans does destroy it you will be responsible for damages not covered by the insurance and deposit. It’s the same as any other security deposit and otherwise your lease is the same.”

“Sounds great,” I said with a nod. Moira got up and walked into the back office.

I turned to Sans.

“She’s the daughter of the landlady,” I explained. I didn’t know if he cared or not, but I felt less awkward. Filling silence with meaningless chatter. “Abby helped her get custody from an abusive ex.”

Sans didn’t respond, hands in pockets and eye sockets dark. With a sigh I turned back to the office, standing a little straighter when Moira came out of the back office.

I skimmed through the documents she handed me, making sure there weren’t any surprises. I didn’t expect any, but my sister was a lawyer.

I never signed anything without reading it first.

I scrawled my messy signature on the line and slid the pen and paper to Sans.

He “signed” his name in bold, almost childish block letters.

sans

He must have heard me snicker at it a little, or he saw my grin as he passed back the paperwork.

“My bro got the fancy writing genes,” he said with a shrug.

I pointed at the first letter. “I was actually laughing at the fact that you’re too lazy to capitalize your own name.”

Sans shrugged again, deeper this time, and winked at me.

“Bro got the capital letter genes, too.”

Again it seemed like he was joking. That it would be funny, if only I had more information.

Sans was confusing me, and I didn’t understand why. I wasn’t even certain it was him, or if I was still hypersensitive from this morning.

I sighed and pushed the thoughts away.

“Can I get a copy of this?” I asked as I flipped through the paperwork again.

“Of course! Email? or would you like it printed out?”

“Email,” I said. A physical copy would only serve to get lost in the paperwork vortex of my apartment. Better to have it digital and be able to find it.

“I’ll get that to you as soon as possible,” Moira said with a nod. She pulled out a sticky note and scribbled herself a note. “Anything else you need today?”

I thought for a moment, about to tell her there wasn’t, when …

“Actually, yeah,” I said. “What are the rules on what I can do with the apartment in terms of … customization?”

Moira looked at me, her expression guarded.

“What are you wanting to change?”

“Replacing some interior doorknobs,” I said. “Adding locks.”

“Oh!” Moira said with a relieved sigh.

What had she been expecting me to say?

“That’s completely fine,” she continued. “If you bring the old hardware to us we’ll deal with disposal. As for general customization, anything nonpermanent is allowed. As long as it’s easy to cover up or patch. We do ask that you limit painting to accent walls.”

I nodded even though I wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying near the end. I didn’t want to paint the walls anyway.

Too much work. Beige was fine.

“Awesome,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” Please tell your sister I say ‘hello,’ would you?” Moira asked as I pushed away from the counter.

“I will,” I said before I turned back to Sans.

“Solar’s?”

---

Lock and Key

I pulled the door open for Sans as I went through my mental “to do” list. I still had plenty of time before my last shift.

I could run one more important errand. At least.

“Hey,” I said as Sans passed me, stopping him. “I have another errand to run,” I said when he turned to look at me. “Could you order for me and hang out for a while?”

Sans’ expression went through a few emotions, before settling on a confused stare.

“I don’t think Apollo will give you any problems,” I said. “You shouldn’t need a pass. I’ll be back pretty quickly … an hour at most? Half that, more than likely.”

“Sure,” Sans shrugged and turned away from me. He tilted his head back a little, “Burger and fries?”

“Perfect,” I said with a nod. “I’ll be back soon.”

I waved and jogged down the street to the hardware store.

Once independent, it was now owned by a larger company while operating under its former name.

I glanced around as I entered, noticing the Halloween displays and decorations for sale.

I wandered over to glance through them, since I loved the holiday.

The general decor hadn’t changed much in the years since monsters became a reality. I knew some monsters were bothered by it.

Some felt hurt that there were only horrific, twisted versions of themselves.

Others didn’t care, or chalked it up to more human intolerance.

I wondered which camp Sans fell into.

I flinched barely repressing a yelp as one of the motion activated ghouls jumped at me. I glared at it as it laughed at me.

I fucking hated the motion activated nonsense.

I took the shock as a cue to get on with my errand. I pulled myself away from the Halloween decor and made my way to the aisle of doorknobs and locks.

It only took me a few minutes to find ones that more-or-less matched what was already in my apartment. Not identical, but close enough to not matter. I grabbed two, one for Sans’ room and one for the empty spare.

Then I looked for the key cutting machine.

It was near the front, a little offset across from the seasonal section. Within eyesight of the registers, but far enough that it wouldn’t drown out the cashiers.

I grumbled under my breath when I saw it needed an employee code to use, despite looking automated.

Of course I wouldn’t be able to do this on my own. That would be too easy.

I walked to the nearest manned cash register and got the attention of the bored-looking teenager behind it.

“I need a key cut?” I said, more question than statement.

“Sure,” he said, monotone and nasal. He sounded almost like he had the flu, and I took a step back. “Let me get my manager.”

“Thanks,” I said, in what I hoped was a friendly manner. I pointed back to the machine. “I’ll be over there.”

“Whatever,” he said.

He was definitely bored.

I looked through the cheap, plain key blanks until I found one that looked similar to my own. Then I made the mistake of looking at the more expensive blanks.

I went to the animal prints first, chuckling at the idea of a keybra or a keytah – although the latter was a leopard print. I briefly lamented the lack of any monkeys.

I snorted at the Mickey Mouse, which felt close to a good joke, but not near enough.

I wasn’t sure Sans knew who the famous mouse was, anyway. He hadn’t shown any recognition when I had mentioned Disney before.

My puns didn’t improve any as I continued on. All boiling down to replacing syllables with the word “key”.

It was starting to not sound like a real word in my head.

“You need a key cut?” A deep, rumbling bass asked behind me.

“Yeah!” I said as I turned quickly.

And found myself face to chest with a man who wrestled bears in his spare time.

I was dwarfed. He was over six feet tall and built like a truck. His arms were thicker than my calves, and his calves – while covered by a pair of blue jeans – were as thick as tree roots.

Middle aged, red and black flannel, a full beard that would put one of Tolkien’s dwarves to shame.

All he needed was an axe, a red toque, and a thermos of soup and he would have been a stereotypical lumberjack.

“Y-Yeah,” I stuttered as I held out my house key and the blank. “Just the one.”

The lumberjack took my house key and the blank before turning to start up the machine.

“This the blank you want to use?” he asked, attention on the machine as he fit my house key in.

“Ye-” I started, but stopped as something caught my eye.

I hadn’t seen the blank during my previous perusal, but it … it was perfect.

A molded skull.

“Hold on,” I said as I reached for the blank. I was already working on thinking up a joke to go with it. “Can I use this one instead?”

I had never cut my own keys. I knew there were different sizes and shapes for blanks, but I didn’t know how to tell them apart. Or how interchangeable they were.

He picked up the key and looked at it before nodding.

“Want two keys or just one?”

“Just one,” I said.

He grunted an acknowledgement, putting the plain blank away and setting the machine to cut the fancy one. I watched him work, frowning in frustration as I realized how much a waste of time the process was.

The most complex part of the operation was reading the clear directions on the touchscreen. I could have done this whole thing myself if I’d had access.

Of course, if I did it myself I wouldn’t be getting the best key ever since I wouldn’t have known if the blank was appropriate.

I glanced at the display again.

I wondered if I should get a keychain, too.

“Got a boyfriend, then?” The lumberjack asked as the machine started up, shrilly carving away at the metal. “Maybe a girlfriend?”

I blinked, pulled from my thoughts about key rings.

“New roommate,” I answered without really thinking. I looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“When young ladies come in to get a key made it’s usually so they can give it to their partner,” he explained. He pointed at the machine. “You got an expensive key, so you care about whoever it is. Might be out of touch but I assumed that the badass keys are more popular with guys.”

I nodded, understanding and uncertain how best to respond. It made sense, but I hadn’t even looked at the key as badass.

I had chosen the skull because it was for a skeleton monster and I thought I was clever.

That wasn’t something I was going to say out loud.

The man nodded back and turned back to the cutter, watching as the process finished.

I chose a few keyring and carabiners, hoping one of them appealed to Sans.

“Here you go,” the mountain of a man said as he handed me my things. I juggled them to slip my keys into my bag.

The newly cut key was warm, and I slid it into my pocket.

“Have the cashier scan this receipt for that cut key, and you’re good to go.”

“Thank you,” I said as I took the slip of paper.

“Of course,” he said. “Have a wonderful day.”

---

Souls

Sans was at the bar, signing something I couldn’t see. Grillby stared at him for a moment before his flames flared in a little poof and he walked away.

I could see the skeleton’s shoulders shaking as he laughed.

I snorted. Definitely a joke. Probably a bad one.

I slid into the empty seat beside Sans, giving Grillby a smile and a wave as he left to attend to other customers. It was still lunch rush and I didn’t expect to be talking to him much today.

“Hey Sans,” I said, my voice thick with humor. I pulled the key from my pocket. “Do you know what boney people use to get into their homes?”

Sans turned to me, his smiling skull devoid of emotion. He didn’t seem interested.

I placed the key on the counter in front of him, covering it with my hands.

“It’s a … skeleton key!” I said as I lifted my hands and waved them in a little fanfare.

Sans looked from my hands to the key and then back to my face before picking the object up.

“It’s to the apartment,” I explained. “You won’t have to use mine anymore. That means you don’t have to stay up all night waiting for me to get home. Once you get home I dub you free of responsibility.”

“You made a key for me?” he asked. He tried to hide it, but I could hear the edge of disbelief in his tone.

“Yeah, of course. I told you it’s your hom too. I meant it.”

He turned the key over in his hand.

“How long did it take you to find one with a skull?”

“I almost didn’t see it,” I admitted. “But not long. I was gonna get you a normal, boring key. But as soon as I saw it I knew it was the key for you.”

He didn’t respond and I fretted. Worried I had overstepped or offended him. Maybe I should have gotten the boring key instead –

He laughed.

Just a snort, but it was enough to banish my fretful anxiety.

‘Fuck yeah,’ I thought with a mental fist pump.

“I couldn’t resist,” I said. “You like it?”

“S’alright,” Sans said as he stared at the key. His eyelights sparked, a flicker of a glow. His smile looked softer. “Thanks.”

I smiled, putting a checkmark in my mental “win” category. Grillby Brough my burger and fries over, sliding the plate across the counter to me.

“ … Drink?” He asked.

I considered.

I didn’t want to deal with the leftover bullshit from last night sober. But if I had a drink it was early enough that I’d probably be sober by the time my shift started.

And if I wasn’t, well … despite not wanting to be sober, I didn’t want to be incapacitated if I had to deal with Jason again.

“Just water,” I said. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t I tell you that you can use AS- er … Hands if you’re more comfortable?”

Grillby’s expression softened as he handed me a water bottle. He signed ‘Thank you’ before returning to work.

Sans glared after him as he left.

“His human told him not to use Hands unless asked.”

I frowned at my burger, the information settling in my gut like a rock. Uncomfortable and heavy.

“That … doesn’t really sound like Apollo.”

“He’s an asshole,” Sans said.

“He can be,” I admitted as I took a bite of my burger. I swallowed before continuing. “But … he’s usually not. His soul is green and yellow. Isn’t yellow justice? And green is kindness, I thought.”

Sans stared at me, his expression unreadable. I glanced over at Grillby with a frown.

I remembered all the times Apollo had taken Grillby’s tips, claiming it was for the good of the business.

I remembered how the fire elemental had dealt with broken glasses for months while Apollo knew. They had eventually been replaced, but I didn’t know how much that was because of Apollo. How much of it was due to me tipping Grillby so well.

I thought of how often Grillby was the only employee working a full shop. Dealing with the anger of impatient humans all on his own.

“He’s … not very fair to Grillby, though,” I said softly. More to myself than to Sans.

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?” I asked. How did I know Apollo didn’t treat Grillby well? Wasn’t it obvious?

“How do you know about his soul?”

Ah. That made more sense.

“How do I know the color? He told me,” I said with a wave of my hand, not understanding the monster’s shock.

“He told you?” Sans asked, looking up from my fries in shock.

“Yeah,” I said as I put my burger down. “The colors aren’t any different than your blood type or your horoscope sign for most people.”

When Sans didn’t say anything I sighed and continued on, staring blankly at the wall.

“Before the Barrier broke, humans considered souls to be something spiritual. Intangible, unprovable, under the domain of philosophy and religion, not science. Then monsters came to the surface and suddenly souls were real. They could be called forward by a monster,” I noticed Sans eyeing my fries, so I pushed my plate over to him. “There was a huge craze to learn your soul color. People would find a monster and have their soul ‘read’.” I reached over and picked up my burger again, contemplating it as I spoke. “Most only cared about the color.”

I wasn’t hungry. I knew I would regret it if I didn’t eat more, but my appetite was completely gone.

“Someone released an app that claimed to tell your fortune based on soul color. Like a daily horoscope. That was when Apollo got into it. As soon as he found out his colors he started incorporating them into everything.”

He had bleached his red hair and dyed it green.

It had not been a good look.

“It was short lived, but intense.” I forced myself to eat another bite. After I swallowed I cocked my head at Sans. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about it.”

“Didn’t hang around humans much,” Sans shrugged and popped a fry into his mouth. “So, what. You found a random monster to take out your soul?”

“A lot of people did,” I said with a nod. I picked up a fry and played with it as I spoke. “I know some monsters made a business out of it. I didn’t. It felt too personal. I didn’t have any monster friends, either.”

An understatement to say the least. I hadn’t had many friends. Monster or otherwise.

Not that my number of friends had increased any since then.

“I ran in pro-monster circles, but I never actually got to know any monsters.”

Even if I had, I didn’t know that I would ever trust someone with my soul like that.

I didn’t know if I trusted myself with my soul.

“I didn’t want to know my color.” I explained, refusing to look at Sans. “Even if I’d had a monster friend back then, I don’t think I would have asked them to show me. I wouldn’t now.”

I had been curious until I went with Abby when she had her soul read.

I don’t remember the monster who did it at all. But I remembered feeling overwhelmed with the presence of Abby as soon as her soul manifest over her chest. My own heart reached for the feeling, for the gentle smiles and warm laughter. For her dedication to the innocent and determination to make wrong things right.

I could even feel the darker parts that made up my sister, although I couldn’t name them. Trauma, mistakes, regrets, guilt.

Her soul had been … her. Honey gold and bright and beautiful. Blinding. A miniature sun concealed within her chest, on display for an eternity wrapped in the briefest heartbeat.

It was Abby, distilled to her purest form.

And I knew, if I ever had my soul read, I would feel the same thing.

But for myself.

I shoved the fry in my mouth, determined to stop thinking about it.

“You learn about traits the same way?” Sans asked as he took another fry.

Which he used to scoop up a full tablespoon of ketchup.

I shuddered, holding my revulsion at bay despite the excessive condiment use. I shook my head as I answered.

“Most people only found out the color. They didn’t care to pay attention to what the colors meant. I think a lot of people didn’t even realize the colors correlated with traits. Even the app I mentioned only listed broad color categories.” I frowned, listing them off on my fingers. “I think they used red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and violet, but I can’t fully remember. Might have had some other colors in there too, like magenta or something.”

I shook my head, realizing I had gone off on a tangent. I forced myself back on topic, “Anyway, there was a lecture on souls at Ebbot U. Free to the public.”

It had been an effort toward peace. An attempt to bring understanding to humans who lacked magic, to share knowledge across the racial divide.

It was supposed to explain how weak monsters were compared to humans, as well as why monsters collected human souls over the years.

Unfortunately, that had been spun into “They collect human souls!” and people stopped listening. The auditorium had been nearly empty when I had gone to the lecture.

“The presenter talked about the differences between monster and human souls.

I picked up the rest of my burger. I was going to finish it, even thought I didn’t want to. “She discussed her theories on how human souls develop traits and colors, why traits and colors seem to correlate … She talked about how souls change throughout life.”

Although there were large gaps in her data. Human souls had only become important after the Barrier went up. At that point they were precious commodities, tools of survival. They weren’t something that could be studied easily.

I took a bite of my burger as my thoughts turned dark.

Best case scenario, the scientist who had given the presentation was a slave now. Working in some lab on something that would make her owners a lot of money. If I remembered she had credentials in a few fields – particularly soul biology and robotics.

“She went over the broad colors and traits, focusing mostly on the traits of the Fallen Humans,” I said, pushing my dark thoughts away. “She talked about how the traits influence people’s actions and beliefs. It’s one of the few things I remember from her talk.”

The list of colors and traits was actually one of the few things I still had from the lecture. I had tried to find the presenter’s research afterward but … everything turned sideways and I lost most of the coursework.

I didn’t even remember the monster’s name.

I finished off my burger and remembered the bag at my side. “I got you something else, too!”

I handed the hardware store bag to Sans with a smile after wiping my hands off.

“There’s some keychains and stuff, you can take whatever you like. There’s also a new knob for your door. One that locks. I can install it on Sunday, but if you want it before that I can show you where the tools are.”

Sans took the bag from me, glancing inside to confirm that it contained the items I said. He reached in to shuffle the keychains around.

“The other knob is for the spare room,” I said. “Privacy is important and I want you to have a place that’s all yours. If you want to give me a key to your room, that’s great. But if you don’t, I get it. The room is yours. I’ll only enter with your permission.”

I pushed the empty plate across the bar counter and stretched, wincing as I felt my back pop. I waved at Grillby, motioning that I was ready to pay.

“Please don’t get us evicted,” I said with a smile. “That’s my one rule. No death cults or animal sacrifices.”

“What if they’re small animals?” Sans asked.

I snorted at his tone, but considered the question.

“How small,” I asked for clarification. “I mean … compared to an elephant a goat is small, but sacrificing a goat – while traditional – is still out of the question. I don’t even know how you would get it up the stairs.”

Before Sans could answer I held up a hand.

“Actually, no. No sacrifices. I’d rather not deal with the tortured souls of a bunch of roaches or bedbugs. They’re bad enough when they’re alive. And anything bigger than that would be too messy.”

“Alright, no death cults,” Sans agreed. “But what are your policies on pets?”

---