As Piper removes his freckled hand from Mrs. Barlow’s forehead, the jade green light emanating from his pale palm dissipates in the cool air circulating his shop.

Inside, Piper’s Pied Potions is even more curious than one might expect. Pale green shelves woven from lavender stems and bound with spider silk rise in rows up to the ceiling to join others in purple bloom. The furniture; such as the divan Mrs. Barlow rests upon, the chairs around a breakfast table and the table itself, are all woven from dark brown twines bound with spider silk.

It would be safe to assume the view behind the two green-and-white doors along the back wall are similar in nature.

“How is my mom, sir?” Jack asks as he walks over and sits beside his mother on a woven chair.

Piper smiles at the boy, his eyes crinkling at the edges underneath his black lace mask. “It’s only a cold, Jack. It certainly seems to have sapped Mrs. Barlow’s strength, but; as long as she rests and takes the potion that I shall prepare for her, she should be right as rain in a few days.”

“Thank you, Mr. Piper,” Mrs. Barlow says.

“Please, I am only doing my job.” Piper stands up like a grass blade swaying in a light breeze. “There is no need to thank me. In fact, I must apologize for making you come all the way here in your sickness. I’m afraid I have prolonged your recovery because of this trip. Please: stay here with us for tonight. You can always leave once you feel a little better.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr Piper. However, I must decline. It is only a short distance; I can walk back just fine. I shall be able to rest plenty once I’m back home.”

“In that case,” Piper says as he saunters over to the shelves of herb on the back wall. He inspects the ingredients, smelling and touching them to determine what to use for his potion. “Let me arrange a carriage for you. It will not cost too much since, as you say, it is only a short distance.”

“I could not ask for such a thing from you, sir. How could I ever hope to repay your kindness if I let you go so far for me?”

Piper smiles at the bundle of herbs in his arms. “In that case, could you help Miss Charlotte with some errands? Once you feel better, of course.”

“Errands, Mr. Piper?”

“Yes. Actually, the shop has some supplies that are running out but we don’t know where to buy them. With your guidance, I am sure Miss Charlotte shall have no issues.”

The mother smiles and nods. “I understand.”

***

You must be waiting for something exciting to happen, Dear Reader. However, we must regretfully inform you that nothing of note happens for a few days.

Sure, people come and go into the shop for pied potions and spelled salves, but nothing else happens, at least for those few days.

It is actually a week after Piper and Charlotte open the shop that something untoward finally happens.

A man trespasses onto the small garden in front of Piper’s Pied Potions with oil and matches on his person.

It is not difficult to imagine what he’s trying to do while he splashes the bowl of oil sparingly along the woven walls.

In fact, it is so easy that the house itself takes notice.

It is to the muffled screams of a man that Piper awakens. He rushes into the shop floor and out the front door, only to see a man bound in lavender.

“Good evening, good sir. May I ask what wind brought you here to my humble shop at this late hour?”

The man, muffled by tendrils covering his mouth, tries and fails to speak.

“I do hope it wasn’t an urgent issue.”

The man’s eyes narrow at Piper, mumbling as well as he can through his binds.

Piper meanders over to the trapped man. “I couldn’t catch that, kind sir. Would you repeat it for me, if you’d be so kind?”

The captive complains using sounds that turn into a yelp as the tendrils squeeze around him just a little bit tighter.

“I will have to ask you to be careful with your words, sir. My shop is very delicate, you see. We wouldn’t want to offend the flowers. Now,” he says as he stops right in front of the strange man and, having forgotten to wear his mask, stares right into his eyes. “What brought you here?”

As eyes the dark red of a sour cherry meets green eyes, the man trembles.

Piper smiles playfully as he averts his eyes. “Ah, do forgive me. I simply had no time to cover my eyes as I had to run out as quickly as possible.”

He covers his eyes gracefully with one hand as he pats the stalks wrapped around the man with the other. “You may let go. I believe he shall be polite, won’t you, kind sir?”

The man nods as best he can, taking a deep breath as the stems let go of him and he falls onto the garden grounds.

He kneels on the grass, panting, as Piper waits for him to calm down.

“Now,” he says after a few moments of silence. “Who sent you?”