‘The Pilfer Imp’ by Cadence Mandybura

What Was Lost

In Pulp Literature Issue 49, Cadence Mandybura teaches us about the price of searching for lost things in her story ‘The Pilfer Imp’. Read an excerpt of this story below, and be sure to pick up a copy of Issue 49, Winter 2026 to find out what happens next!

The Pilfer Imp

by Cadence Mandybura

Darina clears her throat and starts another lullaby, rocking her baby brother as she paces between the crib and her bed. She sees now why they call it the star flu: Baby Bear’s rash is blooming in feathered spots. Rest and fluids was the only advice the doctor offered, his palms tilted upwards. She strokes her brother’s hot cheeks and continues singing, trying not to think of losing him.

Though Darina is only ten, she knows a few things that the doctor doesn’t, like how it’s good that she’s the one staying home to look after Baby Bear. Her mother is working, her father’s off fighting a king’s war, and her ugly brothers are God knows where, but no matter: Darina’s songs keep Baby Bear from fussing, easing him into a healing slumber. The best are the old lullabies that she learned from her grandmother, the ones with canted melodies and old morphs of words. Darina loves the mystery of those ancient syllables, and Baby Bear does too.

His little face crumples as a shadow tousles the lamplight. Darina snugs him up to her collar, careful to not let him chew on her necklace as she looks to shoo the moth out of the room. She keeps the song going, the sound vibrating straight to her brother’s temple.

Nothing at the light or along their windowsill. Maybe she imagined the shadow. Frowning, Darina settles on her bed and lowers Baby Bear to her lap, just as she notices a blue-black glint near her knee.

A sharp-toed scrabble races up her arm. The pilfer imp is as long as a kitten but slimmer, lighter, more jagged. A spadelike face, spiny limbs, churchpane wings — the pilfer imp is at her chin, its long fingers knifing the air in front of her lips, which are still flush with her grandmother’s song. For a frozen moment, she faces the imp’s antlike eyes.

Then, snipslash, the pilfer imp has done its mischief and wings away in an inky blur.

After a moment, Darina lets out a breath. Shrugging off the encounter, she licks her lips and tries to carry on the melody.

Then she realizes.

Her lullaby is gone.

Baby Bear starts to cry.

Find the full story in Pulp Literature Issue 49, Winter 2026

Writer and editor Cadence Mandybura has never veered far from her passion for telling stories and fixing apostrophes. Cadence is a graduate of the Writer’s Studio at Simon Fraser University, and her speculative fiction has appeared in Metaphorosis, Tales & Feathers, and Pulp Literature issues 29, 35, 37, and 47. Find her at CadenceMandybura.com.