Page 21

SIXTEEN

The upside of being gigantic was longer strides. In no time, the pavilion was out of Thorn’s sight.

She was lucky that it was a weekday night. The park was pretty deserted.

Then she heard a steady flapping of wings following her. A raven flew from one tree to the next.

Thorn swore. Bandit was right. This raven had to be a witch’s familiar, and for some reason, the witch was spying on her. But right now, she had a much bigger problem. Literally.

In record time, she reached her cottage. And in the nick of time, just before she got too big to crawl through the front door. Usually, she’d have to jump to reach the top of the doorframe, but now, she had to stoop to step inside.

Bruh.

Thorn noted that a cat versed in modern slang sounded thrice as judgmental. “Bandit! Quick! Help me with the antidote.”

“Ribbit! Ribbit! Ribbit!” Penny hopped up and down on the trunk in her enclosure.

“Shush, Penny! At least I’m not slimy.”

Who’s the dude? Bandit’s head was tilted at a right angle to peer over the side of Thorn’s bulk.

Thorn turned around, only to be blinded by a bright light. Noah was at the door, aiming his cell phone at her. He was recording. “I’ve followed this weirdo to this cottage,” he narrated. “Perhaps she lives here?”

Thorn darted to grab a Croak potion from the shelves, only to curse herself for not having gotten around to brewing some. It was shocking that she hadn’t turned anyone into a frog in the twenty-first century.

Noah continued his commentary. “It’s like Alice in Wonderland . Look, there’s even a cat! But this one’s white. Look at the size of this giant compared to that adorable cat walking toward me”—he shrieked as Bandit used him as a sharpening stone—“My phone!”

But as Noah reached for the phone he’d dropped, he was very fortunate that Thorn’s foot missed his puny little hand, or it would’ve been pulverized, too.

Scram.

That one little hiss was enough to send the newly shredded man hightailing it out of there.

“Thank you, Bandit. I knew you loved me!”

Witch. Now is not the time.

“Right. He might bring the whole town here to gawk at me.”

She hurried about making the antidote. She had planned to brew it after the date, so she’d planned out a recipe.

It was an easy one, as it was simply the antidote to the Youth potion plus a few additional ingredients.

She could get it done in five minutes. Or, she could have, if she’d been in her own body.

But currently, she was bent like a pretzel in order not to smash through the ceiling.

And though after all these years, potion making came as naturally to her as cooking to a seasoned chef, she realized how much of it was muscle memory.

Which meant that in her current form, she was more like a chimp who’d never stepped foot into a kitchen.

Thorn had to concentrate very hard on each step. First, pound five toes of babies and a cat whisker into a paste. No, it was first, grab five toes of babies from the drawer on the third row, fifth column. Yes, they were succulent plants, not actual little human toes.

Next, grab a cat whisker.

Bandit glowered. One more step and you’re toast.

Not a whisker right from the cat. The whisker he’d naturally shed some time ago and was stashed in the drawer on the fifth row, eighth column. Next, grab a mortar and pestle. Right there, on the table!

Next, pound the toes of babies and cat whisker into a rough paste.

Next, grab five vials of antidote of the Youth potion from the second shelf. No, not the green ones. The purple ones next to the green ones.

Next, pour the contents of those vials and the paste into the empty cauldron. That one hanging off the tripod.

Next, pick up the cauldron and hang it over the fireplace. That was one thing that was easier in her giant form.

Next, bring the mixture to a boil.

You need fire.

“Thank you, Bandit.” What Thorn would give to be back in her own body, even with its wrinkles, creaky joints, and bunions on the big toes.

But she soldiered on. By the time the antidote came to a boil six minutes later, she was exhausted. She wiped the sweat off her brow, only to knock her elbow against the wall. Or, rather, into the wall. She would fix that later.

Before she could even curse, footsteps came up the porch. Slow and steady. Long strides. She recognized them. “Walls!”

The door was not only unlocked, it was ajar. She had no choice but to flee—or, rather, crawl and squeeze—into the bathroom.

She had just managed to wedge the bathroom door shut behind her when Walls called out, “Hey, Bandit, where’s Thorn?”

Making a giant fool of herself.

She held her loud breath as she listened to him walking around in the cottage. He stopped by the fireplace. The cauldron was still bubbling away.

“Bandit, did Thorn step out to find an ingredient? Come on, then. Let’s get your bandage changed.”

Nom nom nom.

Bandit was the one stuffing his face, but Thorn was the one who kept growing.

She was so tall she had to sit in the tub, with her knees under her chin, her legs extending up over the sink, and the back of her head pressed against the ceiling.

With each passing second, the threat of her bursting out of this room increased.

“It’s fine,” she whispered to herself. “Once Walls is done with Bandit, he’ll leave.”

Witch, he’s looking out the window. Now he’s staring at the brew.

“No more treats for tonight, Bandit,” Walls said, misunderstanding Bandit’s meows. “You can’t eat all the time. Let’s just wait for Thorn to get back.”

Now he’s pacing around. Now he’s studying that dent in the kitchen wall. Now he’s sitting down.

“I really wish I could, Bandit,” Walls said. “But I have to be the responsible human.”

The sink started to creak under Thorn’s weight.

“Thorn? Are you in the bathroom?”

He’s getting up. He’s walking toward the bathroom.

“Is that what you were trying to tell me, Bandit? That Thorn’s in the bathroom? Sorry, I thought you were just asking for more treats.”

There came knocks on the bathroom door, and Thorn’s heart almost leaped out with each of them.

“Thorn, are you in there? I’m sorry to disturb you, but your brew is boiling. I don’t want it to burn.”

Thorn wasn’t even sure why she’d hidden—perhaps embarrassment. “Thank you. Don’t freak out, but I’m coming out.”

“I insert thermometers up dogs’ bums. And today, one had loose bowls during that. I think I can deal with this.”

“It’s not the smell—never mind, you’ll see,” she said. But he couldn’t. She had grown so much that everything fit too snugly. She was stuck in this bathroom. If only embarrassment was fatal.

“Bandit?” Walls asked. “What are you doing? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“What?” Thorn shouted. “What’s that cursed cat doing now?”

The door swung open, with Bandit hanging off the lever door handle. Thorn gulped.

The man minion is staring. He’s speechless. He can’t believe what a fool you are.

“One more word, Bandit,” Thorn said, “and you’re going to the pound.”

What’s that? A pound of steak, I hope. That would be lovely.

“I don’t know. I heard some people in the park threatening their unruly dogs with that.”

Walls cleared his throat, interrupting the witch and her familiar. “Err, I assume you’re Thorn. I’m no warlock, but… how can I help?”

“I’ve got it all under control.” She tried again to dislodge herself. Her elbow knocked the bath spigot right off the wall. Water gushed out like a waterfall over her legs. She squeaked, “Potion.”

Walls moved swiftly. He grabbed the ladle on the table and strode to the fireplace. “How much?” he asked.

“A spoonful.”

He dipped the ladle into the brew. Without spilling a drop, he brought her a spoonful of the turquoise concoction.

But she couldn’t take the ladle as her arms were wedged against the walls.

He gently blew on the brew, a shroud of steam rising over his face.

For a second, she imagined again that she was looking at him through her wedding veil.

Witch. This is not the time to daydream.

“Th-that will do,” she stammered.

Walls held the ladle close to her giant lips. “Is it cooled down enough?”

As she nodded and took a sip, she noticed his arms. At some point during this mayhem, as the whole cottage was about to be obliterated by a giant, he’d had to time to roll up his sleeves.

She felt a wave of something come over her.

She noticed the way his hair was made of gentle waves curling in onto one another.

The way his shoulders were broader than her pillow.

The way his shirt was neatly tucked into his pants.

The way his waist was so ridiculously trim.

She blamed her sudden visual acuity on her newly giant eyeballs.

He placed the ladle back on the table and walked out the door but not before reassuring her, “I’ll be right back. I have to turn the water off.”

Her elbows pulled away from the walls, and she could now straighten her neck.

The antidote was working. As she returned to regular size, the water ceased gushing out of the hole in the wall.

She examined herself. The lines and spots on her arms had reappeared.

And her hair was back to gray. Even though she was her old unsuitable self, she couldn’t be more relieved.

Walls stepped back in through the front door. He grinned. “Great to have you back.”

Even from where she was standing by the bathroom door, she registered the way his whole face crinkled when he grinned. Anything under his beard remained a mystery, but there were all those lines appearing like a magic trick around the corners of his sparkling brown eyes.

That damned matchmaker had put lecherous thoughts in Thorn’s head.

She had never looked at Walls this way, not in such detail, and right after being crammed into a bathroom wasn’t an ideal time to start. “Curse you, Madam Maude!”

Walls was on the phone, and he turned to her with an amused look.

“Oh, just an incantation I have to say to keep the antidote working,” she lied. She really wasn’t the best at improvising.

“Thank goodness I’m not Madam Maude,” he said as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. While she looked like she had just crawled out of the sewers, he was impossibly suave as he grabbed a towel from the wardrobe and handed it to her. “The plumber will be here shortly to fix the bathroom.”

“How did you know what to do just now?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“How did you know that was the antidote?”

“It was cooking on the fire. And if it weren’t, you would have told me.”

“What about the towel? How do you know I keep those in the wardrobe by the bed?”

“There’s only one wardrobe in your house. You might keep towels in the kitchen cabinet, but the wardrobe’s the better bet.”

“What about the water?”

“I’ve seen the water main switch at the side of the house—Meg would’ve killed me if I didn’t stop this place from flooding.”

Thorn stammered some more and gave up. It was unfair how effortlessly cool some people just were. Finally, she simply said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But were you hiding from me in the bathroom? Why didn’t you just call out for help? Were you embarrassed?”

“I didn’t want to inconvenience you.” Even when she’d asked Madam Maude for help in finding a match, Thorn had approached her with a basket of bribes.

She couldn’t remember a single time when she had asked someone for help without any sort of compensation at the ready. She didn’t want to be a burden.

“Next time you turn into a giant, or into a tiny bug, please ask me for help.”

“I’ll try.” And without thinking, she said, “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

She was taken aback. She’d expected him to casually reply, “Yeah, what is it?” like most people did.

But he sounded so genuine, so willing to open up a dialogue with her.

She knew it was a small act of kindness that really shouldn’t have moved her this much.

Even now, in her silence, he didn’t prod her for the question.

But the way he looked at her let her know that she had his attention.

Finally, she asked, “Do you think there’s someone for everyone?”

“Romantically?”

She nodded.

He didn’t call it a random question. His eyebrows furrowed the way they did when he concentrated on cleaning Bandit’s paws. “Logically, there isn’t. Because there are people who leave this world single, and not by choice.”

“Do you have someone?”

“Romantically, not at the moment.”

“How come? You look virile.”

He laughed. Thorn secretly chided herself for noticing those eye crinkles again.

“Relationships aren’t all about making kids, are they? Or were they, back then?”

“No, but making kids was a very big part of it. What about for you?”

“I’ve sired six. Since I’m so virile.”

“Six?” Thorn exclaimed before the triumphant grin on Walls’s face made her realize he was teasing. She played along. “I’d have thought fifteen.”

“I definitely do not want fifteen. I love my niece, but I don’t know if I need to have children of my own.

If the person I fall in love with wants to, I’m open to it.

If they don’t, that’s cool, too.” He got up.

“Speaking of my niece, she’s waiting for me right now.

But next time when you need help, you’ll have to pick up the phone and call me, because I won’t be coming back otherwise. ”

Thorn’s heart sank. “Why not?”

He looked surprised. “Because Bandit’s all good now.”

She looked over at Bandit, who was loafing atop the medical box—or to him, the feast box. He had been fully divested of his cloak and his bandage.

“That’s great!” she said, although the thought of not seeing Walls every day made her unsettled. Either all that shape- and size-shifting had messed with her, or she had just gotten used to seeing him every day. She had never handled change well.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Of course. I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“Everyone’s in distress sometimes, even mad warlocks,” he said, chuckling.

He gently pried Bandit off his medical box.

“My niece, Charlie, is waiting for us to continue The Princess Diaries . Tonight, Princess Mia gets a makeover and becomes popular. Try not to hex the plumber until they’ve fixed the tub.

I’ve told them to send me the bill. Be good, Bandit. Goodbye, Thorn.”

“Goodbye,” Thorn said, watching the door shut Walls out. But she had never said the word with such hesitance and so little sincerity. Usually, “goodbye” meant “good riddance.”

Bandit went to sit in front of the door. He looked at the board of wood in silence, as if wishing it would open again.

Thorn was pretty sure she felt the same.