SC Bryce is a long-time reader and writer of speculative fiction. Born in Washington, DC, the author currently resides outside Manhattan. The author's short stories have been published in, among others, Fantastic Stories of the Imagination, Flashing Swords, Chaos Theory: Tales Askew, Universe Pathways, Worlds of Wonder, AfterburnSF, Gateway S-F Magazine, and Gauntlet! The Magazine of Heroic Tales. Between stories, the author designed and now moderates the sword & sorcery critique group Sword and Sorcery, is a Contributing Editor at the same site, and writes essays and book reviews related to speculative fiction. For amusement, the author enjoys reading just about anything, watching documentaries on just about anything, and traveling just about anywhere.

When the doorbell rang at 7:30 on a Saturday morning, I knew immediately who it was. I cursed, fumbled into my frilly bathrobe, and stumbled to the door where Tino sat, wiggling his entire backside in excitement. He gave a deep, stifled bark and a little gurgle of impatience.

"Emily," I said, pushing Tino out of the way and opening the door.

There she stood, her pudgy arms struggling with boxes of magic tricks, a thin black cape draped over her shoulder, and a novelty "invisible dog" leash twitching as it dangled from her wrist, the end doubled-back on itself to form a loop secured by a snap-hook. As always, Emily seemed overwhelmed.

"Back from the yard sales early, aren't you?" I asked, eyeing her treasures. From the looks of them, they would be gifts for her nephew. As a sixth grader, he was going through what his parents called "a phase" (and what I called an obsession) with magic tricks. As a good aunt, Emily indulged him.

Tino sniffed the hovering loop at the end of the short leash. The lead jerked madly, suddenly hissing and screaming. It yanked on Emily's wrist and with a little "oh!," her yard sale finds spilled from her arms onto the sidewalk. The boxes splattered cards and dice and plastic gadgets. Emily stumbled as she fought with the leash, the magician's cape now covering half her face.

Howling, Tino dashed past me and back into the house.

I laughed. "I think your invisible dog is more like an invisible Tasmanian devil!"

Emily yanked the cape from her head. Her short brown hair was askew; static from the cape pulled bits at odd angles so that she looked even more disheveled than usual. She had both hands on the leash now and stared at it warily.

"Jeremy is going to absolutely love that!" I said, bending down to pick up the spilled boxes.

"I don't think—" Emily began, but she was interrupted again by the leash.

The loop at the end lunged at my hand like an attacking dog. It screeched and snarled, the nylon twisting and flipping in the air.

I winced at the noise. It was, after all 7:30 am and I'd just woken up. "Geez, Emily, can't you turn that thing off?"

"No!" Emily practically screamed. "I can't! The thing is vicious—"

I cut her off mid-sentence, waving her emotions away with an authoritative hand. "Where's the battery?"

We fumbled with the jumping leash, running our hands up and down the nylon. But the leash fought back, and the three of us ended up in the grass wrestling. A sedan slowed as it passed the house, Mr. Rodriguez gaping out the window at the screaming novelty leash, the spilled magic boxes, and two women rolling in the front yard.

"Let's go inside." I tried to smooth my bathrobe.

Panting, we pulled the hissing leash into the house. Emily snatched it from her arm and threw the thing into the powder room near the front door. She yanked the door shut with a bang. Leaning against the wall, she let out a sigh and rubbed her reddening wrist. I heard Tino scramble out the dog door and into the backyard.

"I tried to tell you," she breathed. "There's no battery."

I rubbed my face and walked to the kitchen. "Well that is a trick," I called out. "You want some tea?" By the time I put the kettle on and returned to the foyer, Emily had wedged a chair against the bathroom door and was sitting tensely on it, her ear pressed against the paneled wood.

"Shhh," she whispered. "Maybe it'll settle down."

I frowned. "You mean it keeps going if even you're not holding it?"

"It's wild, I tell you! It hardly stops for a moment!"

"Where'd you get it?" I hiked up my bathrobe and settled onto the foot of the staircase opposite her.

She waved a weary, sweaty hand. "Over in Clareton."

"Nice houses there." Block after block of authentic Victorians, some restored so that they sported the bright colors of "painted ladies." Tree-line streets. Lots of rich, old families. One of Emily's favorite towns for yard sales. "I've always wanted to live there," I said wistfully and for the millionth time.

"Yeah, me too. There's that one house on the corner of—"

There was a thud from the bathroom. Emily nearly jumped off her chair. She grabbed the doorknob as if expecting it to turn. "I swear it's possessed!"

I snorted. "That's what the people in Clareton told you no doubt."

"Well, no," she admitted, still clutching the doorknob. "The woman said she remembered the leash from her childhood. Her grandfather was in vaudeville, trying to revive it even at the bitter end. He used the leash in his act." She squinted, trying to remember. "She said something about it being in the attic for decades. They'd hear it, now and again, thumping and squealing."

"I'm sure she was joking." I yawned and stood. The tea kettle hissed a warning; the water was nearly ready.

"That's what I thought," Emily called as I retreated to the kitchen. "And I was laughing too when her sons forced it in the car."

"Some act," I muttered, pouring the steaming water into a pair of mugs.

"What's that?" she yelled from the foyer.

"Some act!"

"Yeah. Like I said, that's what I thought. But now I'm not so sure."

When I returned, Emily was frowning, her round face wrinkled in thought. She ran her finger through her short hair to smooth it. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear there really was something at the end of that leash."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not serious." She chewed her lip and I realized that she was. "Okay, get up." I put my mug on the side table and shoved her aside. I was not gentle; I wanted to go back to sleep. "Up, up, up!" I shooed her when she hesitated. I listened to the door. Nothing. I scowled at her and she blushed. In one motion, I pulled the chair away and flung open the door.

Inside the powder room, the nylon leash lay on the checkered tile beneath the scalloped sink. I felt Emily's chin leaning over my shoulder as she peered into the tiny room. "Well, your invisible dog's all tuckered out now."

"Maybe." She was noncommittal.

Outside, Tino growled.

The leash twitched.

Emily grabbed my arm. "Did you see—"

The loop leapt from the floor, the leash lashing behind it like a whip. It launched itself toward us screeching.

I stumbled back against Emily and, yelping, slammed the door. The leash hit the door with an odd, scrapping thud. Emily slipped to the ground. I tumbled over her splayed legs. For the second time this morning, we were entangled on the ground.

I rubbed my elbow. "Ouch."

Emily scowled and pulled herself to her feet. "I told you. It's haunted."

"It's not haunted," I insisted, although I was losing my conviction.

"It is too haunted."

"If you think it's haunted," I was struggling to retain my dignity, "then take it back."

Emily shook her head and backed away. "If you think I'm getting back in the car with that thing, you're crazy."

"Well, you can't leave it in there! What the heck am I supposed to do with it?"

Emily rambled as began to stack her boxes of magic tricks. "Really, Michelle, you don't that bathroom anyway. You've got another and just you and Tino – and he doesn't need his own bathroom. He doesn't even need to share a bathroom. So you've gone from one and half baths for just one person to now one bath for just one person. Really, Michelle, you can live with that, can't you? Can't you?" She gathered up the boxes in her arms as if she was leaving.

I blocked the front door. "You're not leaving that thing in my bathroom."

"Maybe Jeremy can come by and get it. He's visiting me next month and—"

"You're not leaving that thing in my bathroom," I repeated.

"But—"

"And," I pointed a finger in her nose, "if a sixth grader can handle that leash, then certainly we can."

"But—"

"No 'buts.'"

"But—"

I stared at her.

Her bottom lip stuck out and her round shoulders slumped in defeat. "Okay." She put her boxes back down and sank into the chair that had barricaded the door. "What do we do?"

"We're going in there. We're going to hold the leash down. We're going to find the battery. We're going to take the battery out. Then you're going to take that thing home and dump it in the garbage."

"But—"

I gave her a dirty look.

"That is to say, that would be a good plan except there's no battery."

"There has to be a battery."

"Well," she muttered, "you're welcome to look for it if you want to, but I'm waiting right here."

"Fine." I tightened the belt on my robe. "Stay here then." I took a deep breath and opened the powder room door. Darting in, I slammed the door behind me.

"Are you okay?" Emily's voice sounded rushed from the other side of the door.

"Of course." I tried to sound confident. The leash was again lying on the cool tiles. "You must be exhausted," I said to the leash with murmured sarcasm. Then I jumped on it.

It fought and squealed.

"What's going on in there?" Emily yelled.

I gritted back, "Why don't you come in and find out!" But the door didn't open and I finally managed to tie the nylon around the sink's pedestal. The loop still lunged at me, but I sat on the puffy toilet seat, out of its reach. I stuck my tongue out at it. The empty loop snarled back, stretching the nylon to its limits.

This was one heck of a trick, I thought. And Emily was right: there were no batteries along the leash's length.

Emily yelled again, "What's going on?"

"Oh, everything's fine," I brushed back my hair. "You can open the door."

A crack opened in the door and Emily squinted in. Seeing the leash tied to the sink, she opened it fully. The loop turned toward her, menacingly. She cringed. "I told you. It's haunted."

"Look you and I both know that it something was really in that loop, we would have touched it. We'd have felt it."

She shook her head, "You can't feel a ghost."

I rubbed my eyes. I wished I'd drunk my tea. No, I wished I'd never opened the door when Emily rang the bell. I should be asleep right now. "Who's ever heard of a ghost haunting a novelty leash? And if it's a ghost, why doesn't it just go away?"

She bit her lip. "Maybe it can't."

Irritation made me brave. I stretched out and grabbed the twitching loop, jamming my hand into the empty circle. Over the ferocious yowling, I asked, "So, under your logic, we can't feel it, but it can feel the restriction of the leash."

"Mmmm."

I sat back on the toilet again, out of the leash's range. "I suppose that you will now tell me that nylon has magical properties."

She snapped her fingers. "That's it! It's the nylon!"

"You've cracked." I rolled my eyes.

Emily wasn't listening, "Nylon, nylon, nylon," she muttered, deep in thought. She snapped her fingers again. "Hey, that's a cheap robe, right?"

I pulled it tighter around me. "Thanks."

"No. I mean, it's nylon, right?"

I frowned.

"Check, check, check!" She was really excited now. I think she would have torn the robe off me if she didn't have to pass the squealing loop to do it.

"Okay, fine, whatever." I slipped out of the robe and checked the label. She was right; it was nylon.

"I'm right, aren't I? It's nylon, right?"

"Yeah, you're right. So?" I had no idea was Emily was up to.

"Well, throw it over the loop and see what happens!"

"You're kidding."

But she wasn't kidding.

"Okay, fine." I tossed the robe over the spastic loop.

Instantly, the loop froze. The yowling ceased. The robe crumpled to the ground in near silence. I don't think either one of us moved as the frilly fabric settled on the tile. Beneath its folds was the outline of something laid out on its side. It was the size of a raccoon, with short legs and a wide, stocky body. Its head was round and over-sized; it had a thick horns curving up from the temples. And it was breathing, the robe rising slowly and rhythmically over its chest.

Emily and I broke the silence at the same time.

"Oh my—" she said

"What the—" I said.

"I told you—" she said.

"What the—" I said.

We looked at each other.

"I need something to drink." I jumped from the toilet seat and ran past the limp leash and Emily. My mug has survived our earlier tussle and I snatched it off the floor. After one sip, I marched to the sink and dumped the tepid tea down the drain. I went to the fridge, found an opened bottle of chardonnay, and removed the decorative stopper. I took another look at Emily's stunned face and, as she closed the bathroom door, tipped the bottle back.

Tino whined from outside. His long gray face peered through the window. I looked at him and he barked.

"He's the smartest one of us," I said. "I should have gone out the backdoor too."

"What are we going to do with it?" Emily asked, coming into the kitchen.

"With what?"

"Uh. It." She tilted a shaky thumb toward the bathroom.

"We," I enunciated every word, "are going to do nothing because there is nothing in my powder room."

"Maybe we should take the leash off it. You know, let it go."

I spun to face her, spilling wine on my pajamas. "Are you crazy?" I practically yelled. "You can't let that thing go!"

"Ohhh," she smugly mocked. "I thought there wasn't anything wrong with the leash. I thought all we had to do was take out the battery."

"I deserved that," I muttered into the bottle.

"Well, what are we going to do with it?" she repeated.

"What do you think it is?"

She scrunched up her face. "I'm afraid to think about it."

"I, for one, was happier just thinking that you were crazy."

"Thanks. I was happier when the whole haunting idea was just an idea."

I nodded. "Before it was under the bathrobe breathing."

"Yeah."

We stood in the kitchen, drinking straight from the bottle, until the wine was gone. There was no noise from the powder room; that was for the best, I thought. Even Tino had quieted down, although he continued to pace outside the window. If he'd been a real hero, I thought, he'd have rushed into the house and torn the thing limb from limb. Or at least dragged the leash down to the park and drowned it in the pond. That got me thinking.

"Maybe we should take it down to the park and drown it in the pond," I suggested.

Emily looked horrified. "You wouldn't! You can't just kill it!" She was always the rescuer; even Tino was a find of hers.

"What else can we do?" I shrugged.

"I still say we should let it go. The poor thing's been on that leash for decades, maybe longer."

"So you want to just slip the loop off its neck," I said in disbelief.

"Yeah."

"And what do you think it will do to us once it's loose?"

Emily thought for a minute. "Well, I don't suppose it could bite us. It doesn't seem to have any substance – at least it didn't until we threw the robe over it."

"What about other, uh, you know," I stuttered.

"Powers?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of powers?"

I frowned. "I don't know. Maybe it will zap us or something."

Emily suddenly grinned. "Maybe it will grant us three wishes for releasing it."

"Maybe it will eat us for releasing it."

"No," she was adamant. "It wouldn't do that."

"What makes you so certain?"

"'Cause we're its rescuers. Anyway, maybe it doesn't even have powers."

"And you're willing to take that chance," I said skeptically.

She shrugged. "What else are we going to do?"

I grimaced. "I'm still thinking about the pond."

"You'd rather murder it than let it go," her voice was flat and accusatory.

"You're trying to make it sound unreasonable by putting it that way."

"It is unreasonable."

"My dear Emily, this whole thing is unreasonable." I looked around for another bottle of wine. Surely there was some left over from my book group the other night?

Emily grabbed my arm and dragged me back toward the front hall. We both placed our ears against the bathroom door even though we were pretty sure we'd hear nothing. And we didn't. Emily slowly twisted the knob and we peeked inside. The breathing lump was where we'd left it, slowly rising and falling behind the nylon robe, one end of the leash tied to the pedestal of the sink.

Brave now that she'd decided it was her mission to save the creature, Emily tiptoed onto the tile.

"At least take it outside before you let it go," I whispered. "I don't want that thing wandering around the house." I don't know why I was whispering; the thing looked like it was out cold and, even if it had been conscious, who's to say that it would have understood English? Sheesh.

We knelt in the bathroom. Emily untied the leash from the sink's pedestal while I wrapped the limp thing in the nylon robe. In tandem, we made it outside to the front yard.

Holding the thing was, to say the least, a strange experience. It felt like a sleeping cat but heavier and a bit more solid. The horns were hard behind the thin fabric and felt slightly ridged as if they'd grown in rings. I couldn't help but poke at the thing beneath the robe. It was warm and a little squishy; I think it had a fat belly beneath thick fur. I could hear it snoring softly the way Tino did after he'd had a good run. I really wanted to pull back the robe and take a long look at it, but of course I knew that if I did, I'd see nothing. Worse, I might inadvertently release the little beast – I certainly didn't want to do that while it was in my arms. I was starting to think that maybe Emily was right. Letting the poor thing go free was a good idea.

I lay the bundle in the grass and pulled the robe back just far enough for Emily to reach the snap-hook. We exchanged a long look, wondering if we were going to regret this act of charity. With a sharp click, she released the snap-hook and slid the nylon leash out of the wrapped robe.

We hardly dared to breathe. Yet nothing happened. The thing was still unmoving, swaddled in my nylon robe.

"On three, I'm gonna yank off the robe," I whispered, unheeding of the fact that I was standing in my front lawn in my pajamas. "Then let's run for it."

Emily nodded quickly, her short hair bobbing. "Do it."

"One, two, three!" I clutched a corner of the fabric and stumbled backward toward the front door with Emily at my heels.

We saw, as we expected, nothing in the front yard. Patches of bent grass marked where we'd knelt and where we'd laid out the thing, although frankly we weren't sure which was which. We heard a groggy hissing and then a growl, like an animal waking up from a bad dream.

"Shhh," I murmured as Emily opened her mouth to say something. She glared at me; I stared at the patch of grass.

"There's—"

"Shhh!"

The grass moved. Slowly, so that I wasn't even certain that I saw it at first. Slowly, a small circle of grass bent over. Then another. Footprints, like tiny crop circles in the yard. Then nothing.

We waited for fifteen minutes, squinting at the grass. Nothing happened – except, of course, the flattened grass began to straighten until there was no indication that we'd ever been there. Or that the thing at the end of the leash had ever been there.

We were disappointed, to tell the truth. I don't know what we had been expecting — maybe a cosmic boom, a Disney-esque urchin, or a stop-action devil from an old B-flick.

After a half hour, Emily and I felt foolish crouching in the grass and our middle-aged knees were cramping too. I rolled up the robe, Emily folded over the leash, and we went inside as Mr. Rodriguez drove by again, giving us poorly disguised sideways glances as he passed.

Back in the kitchen, we slumped over some toast and coffee. Tino, brave once more, nosed about the house, paying particular attention to the powder room. Eventually satisfied, he settled down under the table as we ate.

We didn't say very much. I guess we'd had a rough day. It was not yet 9:00 am and, so far, I'd been jerked awake by the doorbell, fought a supernatural creature, and released it to the wilds of suburbia – that wasn't even counting sucking down half a bottle of wine. Maybe we were afraid to talk about it, afraid to admit to each other that this whole incident was more than being some fanciful shared dream, afraid that if one of us spoke, then the other would have to acknowledge what happened. Tino seemed content to forget, why shouldn't we?

The nylon leash sat on the table next to the newspaper, looking strangely empty.

"I miss it," Emily suddenly said.

I put down my mug. "You're not serious."

"I am."

"No, you're not." I almost threatened her. "You're not serious."

She sighed and spread more butter on her toast. "I hope it's okay."

"I'm sure it's fine," I growled. "It probably went back to whatever inter-dimensional hole it came from."

"You think?" Her face screwed up with worry.

"The crucial thing is not where it is, but that it isn't here," I pointed out.

"Maybe." Emily stared into her tea. After a moment, she asked, "So, what're you up to today?"

I shrugged.

"Wanna go to a yard sale?"