"Vivi?"

Vivi looked up from her book and smiled. "Father?"

Her father smiled, the lines around his mouth showing more than ever. "I'm going to market. Do you want me to get you anything?"

Vivi shook her head. She knew they were very poor and could barely afford bread for dinner or a roof over their head, let alone the books her father had bought her as presents over the years.

Just before her father left, she hesitated. "Wait . . ."

"What is it?" he asked, quickly coming back.

"Do you think . . . you could get an orange?"

He blinked. "An orange . . . fruit?"

She nodded and smiled. "Just one is fine. We can split it for dessert."

He hesitated, and then nodded. "Of course. Anything for you."

"Thank you, father," she exclaimed, standing to hug him tightly. He hugged her back.

She stood outside the front entrance of their hovel and watched him walk briskly down the path, heading through the woods into town. He likely wouldn't be back until suppertime, for the town was quite a distance from their dwelling.

"Okay," she murmured to herself, turning to go back in. "Finish the book, sweep the floors, and then start on dinner . . ."

Cobra—Vivi's father—searched the market top to bottom for two solid hours, but had to return to the forest path with a heavy heart, for he could not find a single stall selling the one thing his only daughter had asked for.

As he walked, fretting, he did not quite pay attention to exactly where he was going, and when he finally looked up he realized he was in a completely different part of the forest. The sun was setting and he was not sure of how to return to the path, so he decided to continue on.

Soon he came upon another path. This one was not as beaten as the one leading from his shack to the market, but it was a path nonetheless, and he followed it, curiosity getting the better of him.

The mysterious path led him up to a pair of foreboding iron gates between high brick walls. Through the bars Cobra saw a mansion. Judging by the unkempt (yet healthy-looking) state of the front lawn, no one had lived there for quite some time. With the light of the sinking sun fading away, Cobra thought he saw a light inside, but he convinced himself it was merely a reflection of the dying sunlight.

And then he saw the orange trees.

They were the only flora in the area which looked cared for. Ripe fresh oranges burst from their branches, tantalizingly round and huge. Cobra began to drool at the mere sight of them.

Of course, he could not disappoint Vivi. He pushed open the iron gates, which creaked magnificently as he slipped through. He hurried across the unkempt lawn towards the nearest tree and studied it. Up close, the fruits seemed to be closer to tangerines or perhaps mandarins—not that it mattered. Slowly he reached out and plucked one from its branch, making the entire tree quiver.

He was about to turn away to leave when he paused, turned back, and eyed the tree, still bursting with beautiful orange fruit.

Vivi had only asked for one . . . but these he could get for free, and that tree looked like it had far too many . . .

He quickly plucked another one off, and then another. He was so busy with his task that he did not notice the huge door of the mansion open behind him, nor the approaching footsteps.

"HEY!"

He jumped, turned, and shrieked, nearly dropping the fruit. Facing him was a great and terrible beast, covered from head to toe in thick orange hair, huge sharp teeth filling the snarling mouth, two dark horns sprouting from the head, paws like a bear, and wrapped in a dark shawl. The beast was standing on two legs like a human and glaring at Cobra with bared teeth.

"What do you think you are doing?" the beast snarled, leaning in. Cobra's legs shook with fear and he backed up a step. He tripped and fell over, the enormous creature towering over him.

"I—I—" Cobra stuttered, staring at the horrible creature in fear.

"You trespass on my lawn," the beast hissed, leaning in, "and then you have the gall to take my tangerines?!"

"I'm sorry!" Cobra cried, squeezing his eyes shut and shielding himself.

"I ought to kill you right now, old man," the beast snarled. With a huge paw on his old shirt, Cobra was lifted into the air. The beast swung back the other paw, claws out, ready to strike—

"I'm sorry, Vivi," Cobra whispered, the fruits bouncing to the ground. Tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry . . ."

When the strike did not come, Cobra opened his eyes slowly. The beast was looking at him with interest, the paw not holding him slowly relaxing.

"Who's Vivi?"

Cobra gasped.

"WHO?" the beast roared.

"My daughter!" Cobra cried, squeezing his eyes shut again. "My only daughter—I got these for her—she asked for me to get one, but at the market there were none—!"

The beast suddenly let him fall to the ground. He struggled to sit up and the beast leaned in with narrowed eyes.

"A daughter . . ."

"Don't hurt her," Cobra gasped. "Kill me if you must, but leave my Vivi alone—"

"Listen up, old man," the beast snapped, and Cobra fell silent. "Let's make a deal. Bring your daughter here by noon tomorrow, and you may go free."

"No," Cobra whispered. "No, take me instead!"

"Oh, for—listen!" the beast snarled. "I won't hurt her. She will merely be living here with me. So it's either this . . . or your death."

The beast stood and whirled around, shawl flying out. "Tomorrow noon, or I will find you and kill you both. You can even keep the tangerines."

And then the beast went back into the mansion, the door slamming shut, and Cobra was alone.

He gathered up the fruit and hurried out of the mansion grounds, through the iron gate, and down the path. He eventually, by blundering through the trees, made his way back to the old familiar path, and with his thoughts weighing him down he headed home.

Vivi stared outside worriedly, a supper of bread and potatoes for two waiting on the table. The sun had almost set all the way and there was still no sign of her father.

"He wasn't attacked?" she murmured to herself. But then she saw him and her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Father!" she cried, running out to meet him. "Oh, father, I was so worried!"

Her father smiled weakly and held up his prize. She gasped. "Oh, father, you didn't have to get so many—how much did this cost—?"

The old man's shoulders began to shake and Vivi realized he was crying.

"Father, whatever is wrong?"

"These oranges . . . came at far too heavy a price," he murmured. "I will tell you everything inside."

Vivi sat stock-still, her face pale as a sheet.

"I'm so sorry," Cobra said yet again.

Finally she spoke. "Don't worry," she said softly. "I mean . . . it's not that big of a deal."

"But—Vivi, I shall lose you—!"

"Better than losing both our lives," she said gently, taking his hands in hers. "I will go with you to the beast's mansion tomorrow morn." She smiled. "Oh, father, please don't cry . . . I'll be okay."

Yet Cobra's shoulders continued to shake with sobs.