The frightened pair scrambled almost to the very edge of the low roof before stopping—because curiosity was always sneakier than fear. They turned, and what they saw was impossible: the hailstone was swelling, bigger and bigger. First the size of two cobblestones side by side, then as large as a chair, and then…

  “A sarcophagus!” Erich gasped, recalling the Egyptian history lessons from school. “A real sarcophagus made of pure ice! Which pharaoh is inside—the one who rules all the Snowmen?”

  Pobbi snorted, clearly doubtful, and to prove Erich wrong, he boldly trotted up to the frozen wonder.

  Erich’s fear made him want to stay back, but he couldn’t look like a coward in front of his brave dog. So he tiptoed after him.

  Pobbi was already sniffing around the heavenly delivery, scratching at the frost that stuck to his paw. Erich reached out and brushed his hand across the top—the ice wouldn’t budge. Nothing could be seen inside.

  “How does it open? Oh, if only I could see who’s in there!”

  The moment he spoke, his words turned into a spell. The whole block of ice melted away in an instant, as if it had never been there. And on the roof now lay… a girl. The most unusual girl he had ever seen. Not in his class, not in his little town—nowhere. He could swear on it.

  “What do you think? Are there many like her in big cities? I’ve been there with Mom, I’ve seen all kinds of people…”

  If Pobbi could’ve shrugged, he probably would have. Instead, he decided it was his job to take full medical responsibility and wake their guest.

  He carefully licked her forehead first, then her cheeks. With great satisfaction, he saw her eyes slowly open. They were deep, striking eyes—violet pupils glowing against skin that had the faintest purplish hue. Only her skin showed just a tint, but her pupils were filled entirely with that color.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The girl yawned, stretched, and stood up very slowly, almost lazily. She looked around without a trace of surprise at where she had landed, then simply fixed her hair. One side of her head was shaved, while the other side was covered with dreadlocks, their ends tied with colorful ribbons that danced in the breeze.

  She stared at them insistently and started gesturing. Neither of them understood. Pobbi made a clumsy attempt to mimic her movements with his paws, but failed miserably.

  “We don’t understand you,” Erich said, shaking his head. In a blink, the girl zipped right up to him. She filled her lungs, then exhaled a cloud of greenish particles, like pollen. Erich, caught off guard, inhaled some by accident—well, he had to breathe anyway!

  A pleasant taste spread across his mouth, sweet like the best honey. She did the same to Pobbi. Then, with a hoarse, surprisingly rough voice, she asked:

  “And who are you?”

  Her voice was so low, so guttural, like an angry grown woman speaking through her. Erich snapped to attention like a soldier and stammered out:

  “I’m Pobbi, the dog. No—wait… he’s me. No, I mean—oh, I messed it up again!”

  “You’re confusing,” the girl remarked with a frown.

  “No, no, it’s just… we don’t usually have girls falling from the sky inside giant ice coffins, so I got a little mixed up. Pobbi’s way more confident than I am. If he could talk, he’d explain everything himself. But since he can’t, I—”

  “I already know,” the girl interrupted. She crouched down and laid the back of her hand gently on Pobbi’s paw. The dog gazed at her with serious eyes. “Your name is Erich. You live out here on the edge of the woods with your mom and Pobbi. You go to school, and your mom works as an astronomer.”

  “No way! Buddy, you really told her all that?” Erich exclaimed, scratching Pobbi behind the ears as the dog purred with pride. “Yep, that’s us. That’s exactly who we are. And you—who are you, if it’s not a secret?”

  “No secrets between me and Pobbi. I’m still confused by your words and customs, but if I’ve understood right, this is when I’m supposed to tell you my name. A standard greeting ritual, yes? Then let me be… Nibi. I like the sound of it.”

  “And I do too,” Erich admitted, already thinking what an amazing new friend he’d just found. “But what does it mean?”