“Yeah. Uh. I guess.”

Ahmad leaned in closer, trying to catch the woman’s eye. She continued to slap the side of her sifter, eyes cast downward.

“Ahmad! Come on! We don’t have time.”

Winnie tugged him onward, and Ahmad could hear the crackle of electricity behind him as the shop shifted again. A shiver crept down his spine. Was Winnie right? Was the lady fine with knowing that if someone didn’t want to buy from her, the store would somehow snap her out of existence until she was wanted again?

“Let’s get back to Madame Nasirah’s before it disappears,” Winnie said as they paused on a street corner. Pedestrians waited on one side of a wide crevasse, through which they could see down into more neon blue, bustling areas of Paheli. Ahmad’s stomach lurched. It was hard to get used to them. “Something tells me crossing the street here isn’t as easy as it is in Manhattan, and besides, we need to review what we learned,” she added.

“You’re right.”

It took a few stops and flickers, but Winnie and Ahmad finally shuffled back into the tea shop, decidedly worse for the wear. Madame Nasirah stared at them blankly for a moment, as if she’d already forgotten—again—who they were. But then she looked down at the knapsacks in her hands with a start and smiled.

“You’re just in time,” she said. “I’ve prepared your bags.” She handed one to each of them, and looked up expectantly, awaiting their response to the goodies she’d shared.

Ahmad unzipped the knapsack that Madame Nasirah had given him. She had loaded it, along with Winnie’s, with handfuls of small tools and treats, holding them up and naming them as she went.

“Map. A water bottle. A lantern. Believe me, you’ll want to keep track of that. And . . . oh my!”

Crash!

Both of them nearly jumped out of their skin when a huge sword clattered out of the woman’s hand, missing Madame Nasirah’s foot in favor of spearing the wooden floor.

Madame Nasirah had stared down and, after a moment, shrugged complacently. “Well, just in case.” She tucked it away in Ahmad’s knapsack and gave the stuffed bag a reassuring pat.

Now he squirmed against the wall as Winnie examined everything they were given.

“I really hope this isn’t an RPG,” she moaned.

“Me too,” Ahmad said fervently. He hated open world RPGs more than any other type of video game. The idea of spending all that time exploring, fumbling through side quests and debating which ones were actually worthwhile to accomplishing the goals of the storyline, was utterly stressful. What if you chose wrong? What if you missed that right turn on the road that would lead to a good ending? It just made him antsy.