“We’ve gotta be close, right?” asked Ahab. The big bald eagle squinted at the map of the mall and scratched the blue feathers on top of his head.
The mall had already been a ghost town before the pandemic. Now, there were only a handful of storefronts still open in the sprawling, one-story complex, and even those were on borrowed time. The whole thing was slated to come down next month to make way for a brand-new corporate campus.
“Do you know where we are?” Ahab turned to his partner, the smaller bird next to him.
“Oh, sorry, I was distracted with that app you showed me earlier,” Kaira said. She was a snow-white kite, save for the black feathers on her shoulders and gray markings around her eyes.
“Let’s see,” she said, swiveling her head left to right and back again. “I think it’s just up here, around the corner.”
“Glad I brought you along,” Ahab said. “Although it’s kind of your fault we’re here in the first place.” Kaira’s mom had bought Ahab a truly horrendous Christmas sweater that was about three sizes too small.
“I can’t believe she still shops here,” the eagle said. “I didn’t think anyone went to malls anymore.”
Kaira laughed. “She probably just wanted to take advantage of the clearance sale now that they’re going out of business. Just be glad she thought to get you anything at all. Oh, stop—” she reached up and pulled Ahab’s shoulder back. “You almost walked right past it.”
Ahab looked up at the sign above the store’s entrance. Discount Clothing For Less. And a clearance sale on top of that? “I don’t think your mom likes me very much,” he said.
The store was totally empty save for some sparse clothing racks and a disinterested hyena employee, leaning on the counter and scrolling through his phone. He mumbled a half-hearted welcome without looking up.
“Heeeeeey,” Ahab said, almost apologetically, setting the sweater on the counter “I need to—”
“—return that? Yeah, you’re not alone,” the hyena said, gesturing to a haphazard pile of clothes behind the counter.
“So, here’s the gift receipt,” Ahab said, placing it on the counter, “and—”
“Oh, I don’t need that. Store credit. Which means…” the employee waved an arm lazily at the rest of the store “…just take whatever you want. And don’t bother asking for my manager, they haven’t showed up in a week.” The hyena muttered something under his breath and stalked toward an employees-only area in the back of the store.
Ahab did a 360, scanning the mostly empty store. He turned to Kaira. “Do I have to?” he whispered.
“Yes!” the kite elbowed him in the ribs. “You told my mom you were just gonna exchange it for a bigger size.”
“OK, fine. Help me find something equally grotesq—I mean, gorgeous.” The eagle reluctantly started sifting through the disorganized racks. “Too small, too small, too ugly, too small… what about this one? Is this close enough d’you think?” Ahab held up a gaudy red and green sweater with alternating rows of reindeer and gingerbread people.
“Sure, looks good, babe,” Kaira said. She was still standing by the cash register, staring at her phone.
“Kaira? Are you still on that app?” Ahab dabbled in magic, and earlier in the day he’d shown Kaira the app that had an extensive database of spells.
“Yeah, I mean… there’s just so many of them,” the kite said, still scrolling. “Turn your enemy into a toad. Turn your friend into a toad. Turn your toad into a friend. Honestly, I just assumed this sort of stuff was only kept in dusty old spellbooks.”
Ahab laughed. “It’s the 21st century. Magic benefits from innovation, too. It’s all regulated now, though. Gotta have a license to practice. But… anyone can do it. Just takes years of training and studying to hone and maintain your skills like I have!” The eagle puffed out his chest.
“Didn’t you let your license expire a few months ago?” the kite asked.
“It’s a pandemic, it’s probably fine,” Ahab waved a hand in the air. “Whatever. I’m gonna go make sure this fits, and then we can get out of here.” He headed toward the fitting room in the back of the store. Kaira followed a few yards behind, still glued to her phone.
The changing area wasn’t much: just a freestanding wooden stall with a shower curtain hung on one side for privacy, set off in a little back corner nook that was partially obscured from the rest of the store. The carpeting didn’t even extend this far; Kaira plopped down on the hard tiled floor while Ahab went into the stall, the feathers on the very top of his head still visible over the wooden walls.
“There’s a spell in here to start a fire?” Kaira asked. “All winter I’ve been asking you to make a fire in the fireplace and you kept saying it was too much effort.”
“Sorry, license expired,” Ahab said, his voice muffled as pulled his shirt off over his head.
“Yeah, yeah,” the kite said, continuing to scroll through the spell list. “Ooh, this one looks fun. Geminabit mole particeps meum. Did I say that right?”
Ahab flung the curtain open. He had his head and one arm through the holiday sweater, and a look of concern on his face. “What did you just say?”
“Oh, I was just reading one of these spells here. Don’t worry, it’s not like I can do magic.”
A violet glow suddenly outlined the bald eagle’s figure. “Are you sure about that? It’s easier than you think. What was the spell?”
“It was, uh,” the kite scrolled back through the app in a panic. “It was supposed to—”
“I figured it out,” the eagle said, suddenly a foot taller after a burst of growth. His eyes rolled back in his head as his muscles and joints popped and strained to accommodate his new size. The first spurt of growth was focused around his upper body, and the big bird staggered back, struggling to maintain his balance. The sweater immediately ripped in half, threads unravelling as it split apart over Ahab’s growing midsection.
Ahab’s lower half caught up with the next burst of growth, legs quickly expanding. The eagle’s head slammed into the ceiling with a bang, and he fell backwards into one of the changing stall’s flimsy walls. It had no chance; the structure immediately collapsed outward under hundreds of pounds of growing bird.
Kaira dropped her phone and sat slack-jawed in amazement as her partner filled the fitting room. The hyena employee walked in, took one look at the huge bird and immediately took off his name badge. “F – – -, man, they don’t pay me enough for this. I’m gonna go get high.”
Ahab was getting higher in a different way. Even sitting down, his head brushed against the ceiling. He couldn’t fully stretch out his arms anymore. Kaira had to scoot back as his feet extended far enough to graze her. Ahab spotted a fire alarm on the wall and flicked it down with a fingertip. Even though there were hardly any people in the mall, he didn’t know how much damage he was going to end up causing.
“Kaira! There’s gotta… be a spell… to stop this… right?” he yelled. But even as he said this, he couldn’t hide the huge grin on his beak as the intense pleasure of growth washed over him.
The ear-piercing fire alarm snapped the kite out of her shock. “Right, uhhhhh… let me see if I can find it,” she said, flustered. She knew it wouldn’t be long before her growing boyfriend started breaking things. He was pushing against the top of the room now, knees pressed into his chest and arms tucked tight to his body to avoid causing further damage. The floorboards creaked and groaned over the sheer weight of the rapidly expanding eagle, and there were even some cracks developing in the cheap ceramic tiling.
“Wait, here it is!” she shouted. “Geminabit mole particeps meum!”
“Wait, isn’t that the same thing you said the first time?” Ahab yelped as another sudden burst of growth hit him. This one sent him literally through the roof, his head and chest busting through the ceiling tiles and out into the winter air. He took more huge chunks out of the ceiling as he reflexively brought his hands up to massage his head — not that he was in all that much pain. Clearly, the building had taken more damage than the bird.
He reached back through the hole he’d created and plucked his girlfriend up with a huge hand. Ahab was now large enough that Kaira could sit somewhat comfortably in the palm of his hand, and she did so, coughing from the dust that showered down on her when Ahab tore open the roof. “Are you OK?” the big bird asked, now more concerned about her well-being than his still-growing frame.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she coughed. “Sorry. I had no idea that would happen, and then I panicked.”
“It’s alright,” Ahab said, tickling the feathers on her face with one enormous finger. “I don’t mind growing. I just like a little warning beforehand. And now…” he said, placing the kite on his left shoulder, “…you get to help me get out of this.”
Ahab raised his knees up high to pull them out of the mall, widening the holes in the roof in the process. The clothing store below had been mostly reduced to rubble, and honestly, he thought, it may have been for the best.
As his growth finally began to taper off, he lifted his left foot up to step out of the shopping complex, then froze. “Kaira? I can’t step far enough.” The mall was only one story, but it sprawled out in each direction, and the clothing store had been fairly close to the middle. Even at three or four stories tall, Ahab wasn’t going to be able to maneuver out of the building without squishing some other part of it. “Where can I step?”
The kite squinted, trying to remember the floor plan of the mall. “Oh!” she said. “Over here on the right, there’s an empty movie theater. Had to close because of the pandemic.”
Ahab swiveled his hips, crossing his left leg over his right and hesitantly stepped down. His talons dug into the metal frame of the building with a loud CRUNCH, causing the ceiling to immediately cave in under the eagle’s powerful foot. But Kaira was right: just a vacant theater lay underneath. Ahab’s step flattened most of the seating. He placed his right foot next to his left with much less care, causing even more of the theater to collapse. He wiggled his toes a bit, taking in the unusual sensation beneath his soles, then took one more big step out into the mall’s parking lot.
Perhaps a decade or so ago the mall could have justified such a large sea of asphalt, but the only things in the lot on this day were a handful of cars — a literal handful in Ahab’s case —and about a dozen or so mall employees who had evacuated the building when they heard the fire alarm. Most were gazing up at the behemoth in fear or awe, but one, a lion dressed in a suit far too nice for the wages these stores paid, was hopping mad. He was screaming something Ahab couldn’t make out and pointing his finger at the big bird.
“That has to be the new owner of the mall,” Kaira said. “I heard he got some sort of sweetheart deal to turn it into the corporate campus.”
“Oh,” Ahab said. “In that case, let’s see how angry he really is.” The eagle lifted one huge foot and held it above the lion, blocking out the feline’s view of the sun. Slowly, he brought it back down, heel first, rolling it into the pavement until the last talon landed just in front of the lion’s face. The cat yelped and ran behind the nearest car, belligerence all but evaporated.
Ahab chuckled and crouched down, leaning over the car. “Is there a problem here? You’re tearing this mall down anyway. It occurs to me you could save a lot of money in demolition costs if you just let a… let’s say ‘force of nature’ take care of it.” The lion slowly nodded in understanding and took a step back. Ahab just moved closer. “And it sure would be a shame if those savings weren’t passed on to these nice employees you’re laying off. I’d be pretty angry about that, if you get what I’m saying.”
The lion did get what he was saying. He nodded quickly, then ran away screaming. Ahab smirked.
“I found the counterspell,” Kaira chimed in, poking his face to get his attention, “but it seems like you’re having too much fun right now.”
“Oh, keep that to yourself for now,” Ahab said. He turned and crouched down to talk to the other furs in the parking lot. “Y’all should go in and grab what you need, and then you can take the rest of the day off. It’s about to be a nice day to take a long walk around the mall.”
