“We are buying potions.”
Jo Mama nodded.
“Potions.”
“Three healing potions.”
“Yep.”
“One antidote.”
“Yep.”
“And possibly something for my headache.”
Jo looked at Paul.
“Have headache?”
“I travel with you.”
“Fair.”
Paul pointed down the street.
“We enter the shop. We buy the potions. We leave.”
Jo nodded.
“Easy.”
Paul stared at her.
Jo stared back.
“What?”
“Last time you went shopping, you bought a shield because it was shiny.”
“Good shield.”
“You don’t use shields.”
“Still good.”
Jimmy peered through the shop window.
“Lots stuff.”
The Paladin turned toward him.
“Jimmy.”
“Looking.”
“Only looking.”
Jimmy nodded.
“Only looking with eyes.”
Paul sighed.
“Why did that require clarification?”
Because it was Jimmy.
The sign above the door read:
MADAME MIRABEL’S
MARVELOUS MAGICAL MERCANTILE
Below that, in smaller letters:
POTIONS • CHARMS • CURSES REMOVED
ARTIFACTS APPRAISED
TRANSFORMATIONS REVERSIBLE*
*USUALLY
Paul stopped.
“No.”
Jo looked at him.
“Door not even open.”
“I know.”
“Then why no?”
“Preventive.”
A bell chimed as they entered.
The shop was larger inside than outside.
Paul noticed first.
He looked at the ceiling.
Then the walls.
Then the door behind them.
“Spatial expansion.”
Jo looked around.
“Big shop.”
“Yes.”
“That’s what Jo said.”
Shelves crowded every wall.
Bottles glowed.
Boxes hummed.
A brass bird recited insults from a cage.
Three brooms argued quietly in a corner.
Something beneath a velvet cloth breathed.
Jimmy’s eyes widened.
The Paladin immediately took hold of the back of his coat.
“Potions.”
Jimmy nodded.
“Potions.”
Madame Mirabel appeared from behind the counter.
She was tiny.
Ancient.
Wrapped in twelve scarves.
Her spectacles were so thick they made her eyes enormous.
“Customers!”
Paul stepped forward.
“We need three standard healing potions and one general-purpose antidote.”
Mirabel nodded.
“Of course.”
Paul relaxed.
“And nothing else.”
Mirabel looked past him.
At Jo.
At Ellie.
At Jimmy.
At the Paladin.
Then back at Paul.
“Of course.”
Paul relaxed less.
“Everyone stay here.”
Jo was already looking at a display.
“Jo.”
“Eyes only.”
She clasped her hands behind her back.
Paul looked at Jimmy.
Jimmy also clasped his hands behind his back.
The Paladin looked at Ellie.
Ellie smiled.
“I know better.”
Paul nodded.
“Thank you.”
Ellie pointed behind him.
“Jo doesn’t.”
Paul turned.
Jo was reading a label.
Paul hurried over.
“Do not touch it.”
“Not touching.”
The item was a wide leather belt with a silver buckle.
Its label read:
BELT OF TITANIC PROPORTION
FOR THOSE MOMENTS WHEN
YOU SIMPLY NEED MORE OF YOURSELF
Jo’s eyes sparkled.
“No.”
“Didn’t ask.”
“You were going to.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
Jo leaned closer.
“More Jo.”
“That is precisely what concerns me.”
Across the shop, Jimmy found a bag.
It was plain brown leather.
He stared.
The bag stared back.
Not literally.
Probably.
Jimmy read the tag.
SECONDHAND BAG OF HOLDING
MINOR COSMETIC DAMAGE
PREVIOUS OWNER UNAVAILABLE FOR COMMENT
Jimmy inhaled.
The Paladin appeared beside him.
“No.”
Jimmy pointed at his current bag.
“Full.”
“That is because you carry broken hinges.”
“Useful hinge.”
The Paladin paused.
“One broken hinge.”
“Could need.”
“You already have one.”
“Could need two.”
“No.”
Jimmy looked at the second Bag of Holding.
Then at her.
“Emergency bag.”
The Paladin hesitated.
This was a mistake.
Jimmy sensed weakness.
“Organize.”
The Paladin looked at his existing bag.
Then at the new one.
Then at Jimmy.
“We will discuss it after we purchase the potions.”
Jimmy smiled.
Paul heard.
“Why would you say that?”
Ellie had discovered a tray of enchanted lockpicks.
She picked one up.
Paul pointed.
“Ellie.”
“I’m allowed to touch these.”
“How do you know?”
A small sign read:
PLEASE HANDLE.
Ellie smiled.
Paul frowned.
“Suspicious.”
“It’s a shop.”
“Exactly.”
Jo was still staring at the belt.
The Paladin joined her.
“Do you need a magical belt?”
“No.”
“Then don’t buy it.”
“Could need.”
The Paladin slowly turned toward Jimmy.
Jimmy looked proud.
“See?”
Paul said:
“Stop spreading.”
Madame Mirabel returned carrying a wooden tray.
“Three healing potions.”
Paul smiled.
“One antidote.”
“Excellent.”
“And for your headache.”
She placed a tiny blue bottle beside them.
Paul picked it up.
“What does it do?”
“Relieves headaches.”
“Any side effects?”
“May temporarily transform the drinker into a goat.”
Paul put it down.
“No.”
Jo picked it up.
Paul took it from her.
“No.”
“Paul goat.”
“No.”
“Tiny goat.”
“No.”
Jimmy looked interested.
Paul pointed at everyone.
“No goat.”
Mirabel smiled.
“Anything else?”
“No,” Paul said.
“Yes,” Jimmy said.
“No,” the Paladin said.
“Maybe,” Ellie said.
Jo raised her hand.
Paul looked at her.
“Don’t.”
Jo pointed at the belt.
“How much?”
Paul closed his eyes.
Ten minutes later, they had purchased:
Three healing potions.
One antidote.
One set of enchanted lockpicks for Ellie.
One secondhand Bag of Holding for Jimmy.
And one Belt of Titanic Proportion.
Paul stood outside the shop.
He stared at the receipt.
“We came for potions.”
Jo held up the belt.
“Also belt.”
“Yes. That’s the problem.”
Jimmy carefully placed his old bag inside the new Bag of Holding.
Paul saw him.
“STOP.”
Jimmy froze.
Paul lunged.
“Do not put a Bag of Holding inside another extradimensional container!”
Jimmy slowly removed it.
“Why?”
“Because I would like this street to continue existing.”
Jimmy nodded.
“Good reason.”
The Paladin looked horrified.
“Should he own two of those?”
“No.”
Jimmy hugged the new bag.
“Too late.”
Paul pointed at both bags.
“Those remain separate. Permanently.”
Jimmy nodded.
“Bags stay separate.”
Paul looked at him.
“Good.”
Jimmy looked at the bags.
“Could organize separate.”
“That is the only kind of organizing you are permitted to do with them.”
Jo wrapped the belt around her waist.
Paul looked up.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying.”
“Why?”
“Bought.”
“That does not mean you activate unknown magical equipment in the middle of town.”
Jo looked at Mirabel’s shop.
“Not unknown.”
“You know its name.”
“Yep.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Jo fastened the buckle.
Nothing happened.
Jo looked down.
Paul waited.
The Paladin waited.
Ellie waited.
Jimmy waited.
Jo shrugged.
“Broken.”
Then the buckle flashed.
Jo grew.
“OH NO,” Paul said.
Seven feet became nine.
Nine became twelve.
Twelve became fifteen.
Jo’s head passed the second-story windows.
People screamed.
Jo kept growing.
“PAUL.”
“I SEE IT.”
“JO BIG.”
“YES.”
Twenty feet.
Twenty-five.
Thirty.
Jo’s shoulder struck the edge of a roof.
Tiles exploded into the street.
“Sorry!”
“STOP GROWING!”
“TRYING!”
“How?”
“DON’T KNOW!”
The Paladin looked at the belt.
“There’s a dial!”
Paul looked up.
“What?”
“On the buckle!”
Jo looked down.
“Can’t see!”
“Settings!”
Ellie squinted upward.
“What do they say?”
The Paladin read:
“SMALL. REGULAR. LARGE. TITANIC.”
Paul stared.
“What is it set to?”
Everyone looked.
“TITANIC.”
Paul’s face went blank.
“Of course it is.”
Jo reached roughly thirty-five feet.
Then stopped.
The street became very quiet.
Jo looked down at everyone.
Everyone looked up at Jo.
Jo smiled.
“Hi.”
Paul stared.
“You are thirty-five feet tall.”
“Big Jo.”
“Very big Jo.”
Jo looked around.
She could see over the roofs.
“Can see everything.”
“Do not move.”
Jo froze.
“Okay.”
Paul looked at the belt.
The buckle was now several stories above him.
“We need to turn the dial.”
Jo looked down.
“Jo do?”
“You cannot see it.”
“Can feel.”
“No experimentation.”
The Paladin looked at Paul.
“How do we get up there?”
Everyone slowly turned toward him.
Paul stared back.
“No.”
Jo’s eyes widened.
“Throw Paul?”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
“Could ask.”
“You did ask. The answer is no.”
Jo nodded.
“Okay.”
Paul looked around.
Then sighed.
“Lower your arm.”
Jo carefully lowered one enormous arm to the street.
Paul climbed on.
Jo smiled.
“Tiny Paul.”
“I was already tiny.”
“Extra tiny.”
“Lift slowly.”
Jo lifted.
Very slowly.
Paul rose past the first-story windows.
Then the second.
Then the roofline.
He looked down.
Immediately regretted doing so.
“Stop.”
Jo stopped.
Paul crawled along her forearm toward the belt.
“This is ridiculous.”
Jo whispered.
At thirty-five feet tall, Jo’s whisper was still audible across the street.
“Paul climbing Jo.”
“Yes.”
“Like mountain.”
“Do not call yourself a mountain.”
“Jo Mountain.”
“No.”
Paul reached the buckle.
Four settings.
SMALL.
REGULAR.
LARGE.
TITANIC.
The dial was firmly on TITANIC.
“Of course you did.”
He turned it to REGULAR.
Jo shrank.
Thirty-five feet.
Twenty.
Fifteen.
Nine.
Seven.
Paul, still sitting on her arm, descended with her.
When the magic stopped, he was suddenly sitting in Jo’s lap.
They stared at each other.
Jo smiled.
“Tiny Paul.”
Paul climbed down.
“Do not.”
The Paladin approached.
“Everyone alive?”
“Yes,” Paul said.
Jo nodded.
Ellie nodded.
Jimmy nodded.
The Paladin looked toward town.
“Buildings?”
Paul looked.
“One roof.”
Jo raised her hand.
“Jo pay.”
The Paladin smiled.
“Yes.”
Jo nodded.
“Fair.”
Madame Mirabel met them at the edge of the street.
Paul held out the belt.
“We’re returning this.”
Jo gasped.
“No.”
Paul looked at her.
“You nearly became municipal infrastructure.”
“Useful belt.”
“You destroyed a roof.”
“Roof little.”
“Jo.”
She hugged the belt.
“Could need.”
Paul stared at Jimmy.
Jimmy smiled.
“Spread.”
Mirabel refused the return.
“All enchanted-item sales are final.”
Paul looked at the receipt.
In extremely tiny letters:
ALL ENCHANTED-ITEM SALES FINAL.
SIDE EFFECTS MAY INCLUDE:
GROWTH, SHRINKAGE, GOAT, PROPHECY,
HAIR, TEMPORARY DEATH,
OR UNEXPECTED MUSICAL NUMBERS.
Paul folded the receipt.
“I hate magical retail.”
Then he stopped.
“The potions.”
Everyone looked at one another.
Jimmy checked his new bag.
Ellie checked her pack.
The Paladin checked hers.
Jo checked her pockets.
Nothing.
Paul became very still.
“We came here for potions.”
Jo nodded.
“Yep.”
“Where are the potions?”
Silence.
They all looked toward Madame Mirabel.
She smiled.
The wooden tray was still sitting on her counter.
Paul closed his eyes.
“Rude.”
“Necessary.”
Jimmy admired his second bag.
Both Bags of Holding remained visibly, physically separate.
Paul checked.
Twice.
Ellie admired her lockpicks.
The Paladin held the door.
“Can we leave now?”
“Yes,” Paul said.
They stepped outside.
Jo stopped.
Everyone froze.
Paul looked up.
“What?”
Jo pointed across the street.
A sign read:
ENCHANTED COOKWARE
SELF-STIRRING POTS
BOTTOMLESS KETTLES
COMBAT-READY SKILLETS
Jo’s eyes widened.
Paul grabbed her arm.
“No.”
“But-”
“No.”
“Skillet-”
“NO.”
Jimmy leaned around Jo.
“Could need.”
“WE ARE LEAVING.”
Jo looked back at the cookware shop until it disappeared around the corner.
“Someday.”
Paul heard her.
“No.”
Jo smiled.
“Someday.”
Paul tightened his grip on the potion bag.
At the time, he had no idea how ominous that word would eventually become.