Miriam found the first clue in Aisle 12: ENCHANTED HOME GOODS AND ACCURSED APPLIANCES.
Pots grinned from the upper shelves.
A kettle breathed a violet sigh.
A blender turned its blades whenever somebody mentioned plans.
“Yes,” Poe said, with more conviction than he had shown over dinner.
“This is the aisle of champions.
Even the blenders bleed intent.”
“Is nothing sacred?” Bubble Gurl asked.
Astrid held up a squat iron teapot.
It wailed softly.
Poe accepted it with both hands.
“I shall cradle its wail.”
Edgaursine padded in from a side door, no longer pretending to be a van.
It sniffed Poe, bared its teeth, and growled, “Edgar…not squishy.”
The cat-ear girl peered around Miriam’s shoulder.
“That ain’t our balloon boy.”
“Thank you,” Miriam said.
“One useful observation.”
Elsewhere in the store, the pair from WacDonald’s led armored Edgar past TIME TURNTABLES, CHRONO DRONES, and PARADOX PANTS.
They had found a booth they insisted was already warmed up.
One hoped its playlist would contain more than Gregorian chants.
The other promised that this time it would not.
The attendant at the booth had pointed ears and violet eyes that shone when she read the timestamp on her tablet.
“Name for time-tax verification?”
Edgar raised a red glove.
“Edgaaar.”
The tablet beeped.
The screen displayed WARNING: MULTIPLE EDGARS DETECTED.
“Whoa,” the attendant said.
“Wait.
Multiple Edgars?”
The store’s lights switched from white to red.
A siren announced EDGAR PARADOX DETECTED, and shoppers who had been willing to buy cursed blenders became suddenly unwilling to stand near one.
Astrid heard the alarm in Aisle 12.
Her eyes flashed.
“Aw, shit.
Here we go.”
Miriam shut her book and curled one hand into a fist.
“Finally.
Some action.”
Edgaursine struck a display worker with a rounded paw before the worker could grab Bubble Gurl.
“Y’all forgot about me!” it barked.
The cat-ear girl sprinted past, gathered blue light around her boot, and kicked a security machine into pieces.
The blast ran the length of the aisle like thunder.
A cashier ducked beneath the counter.
Another shopper continued comparing prices because he had clearly seen worse.
“Noise,” Edgar said when he reached them.
“Bad.”
Store employees fled.
One stumbled backward with his receipt printer still hanging from his belt.
“I just started my shift!”
The cat ear girl vaulted over a row of kiosks.
“Self destruction!” she shouted, driving both heels into their control panels.
They burst apart in sparks and plastic.
Bubble Gurl took an unhurried sip from a drink she had somehow bought amid the emergency.
“This place has, like…” she began, looking for a word large enough.
The last kiosk exploded.
“…problems.”