Page 14 of With the Potion in the Courtyard

"Sold," I said, still marveling at the stealth my new footwear afforded me. We chatted with the shopkeeper for a moment longer before making our way out, my old shoes now tucked away in my bag.

"Next stop, The Enchanted Bottle," Jessie announced as we stepped back onto the cobblestone street.

Moonbeam Cove's charm hadn't faded as the day waned; if anything, the approaching dusk lent an air of mystery to the town. When we reached The Enchanted Bottle, the sight that greeted us was like something out of a dream. Bottles of every shape, size, and color lined the shelves, catching the last rays of sunlight filtering through the windows. The gentle clinking of glass as a breeze slipped through a partly open door was the only sound in the quiet afternoon.

"Wow," Robbie said, taking it all in.

"I feel like I’ve had this dream before," I responded softly.

"It’s definitely magical," Jessie added, hands on her hips.

We inched forward. None of us seeming to want to be the first person to go in. The ship simplyfelt like the kind of place that would be disturbed by our presence.

"Welcome," a voice called from somewhere deeper within the maze of bottles.

"Thank you," I replied, stepping inside. Dust motes floated lazily in the beams of light, and the scent of old paper and herbs lingered in the air.

"I’ve never seen anything like this," Jessie murmured, her gaze fixated on a bottle shaped like a crescent moon.

"Me neither," I agreed, gently running my fingers along a nearby shelf. Each bottle seemed to hold its own story, its own secret magic.

Jessie nudged me forward. The clinking sound grew fainter as we approached a counter clouded with dust. There, an old woman sat, her eyes milky and unfocused, yet her presence filled the room with a palpable magic.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice threaded with an unspoken power.

Gray hair spilled down her back and shoulders, long and thick. I couldn’t tell if her hair had once beenblonde or black, because both colors seemed to be woven in with the gray. She wore jean overalls and a pale-yellow shirt, both of which were well worn. There was just something about her… something I couldn’t pinpoint.

"Hi, yes. We have a shard from a bottle we're hoping to learn more about," Jessie said, her usual buoyancy subdued in the presence of the shop's owner.

"Viviana Ingram," the woman introduced herself without standing up. Then, she pointed to a sign on the wall behind her head that had a price. "My fee is up front."

Robbie fished out some bills from his pocket and placed them on the counter. I followed suit, and then handed over the shard with care. Viviana's fingers danced over the surface, tracing the contours like a map.

"Give me a moment." Viviana pulled a sheet of paper and a pencil from beneath the counter.

We watched, a silent trio, as her hand moved with certainty, lines forming and converging into the shape of a bottle. When shefinished, she slid the sketch across the counter toward us. "This is what it looks like."

My jaw dropped. The image was beautiful, full of details and shadowing. It was as if she’d taken a picture of a bottle and ran it through some kind of software. The only problem? It looked like any potion from our classroom. I couldn’t even be sure, looking at it, that the potionhadcome from our classroom. It was just too common.

"Is there anything else you can tell us about it?" I asked, hopeful.

"Old magic," she replied simply, tapping the paper. "Not harmful." She squinted at it then picked up the shard, her touch gentle as if it might crumble under too much pressure. "It didn't house a harmful or dangerous spell." Her brow furrowed, and I could tell she was searching for more in the glass.

"Nothing else?" Robbie asked, leaning forward with visible hope etched across his face.

"Nothing more I can sense," she replied with a shrug.

"Thank you," Jessie said, not giving away her disappointment. She took the shard back and wrapped itcarefully in a piece of cloth and tucked it into my bag, along with carefully folding the picture and putting it in my bag too. There was a knot in my stomach, a mix of frustration and curiosity.

"Come on," Robbie said, nudging me gently as we started walking back through the shelves. "Let's get out of here."

"Come back anytime!" She called after us.

"Thanks," I told her as we headed out the front door.

"Maybe there's something in Ms. Ingow’s notes," Jessie said as we stepped outside. The air of Moonbeam Cove felt dense with unspoken stories.

"Maybe," I echoed, but my mind was already turning over every scrap of information we had. It wasn't much, but it was a start.