9
We rushed to the front and slid to a stop against the desk to look over the counter. A wizened old hag stood before the cowering Cotio. The woman wore a simple black dress, a wide-brimmed black hat, and clutched in one of her wrinkled hands was a large purse. Her other hand was outstretched with the palm facing Cotio. There was a scorch mark on the floor close beside him.
“P-please don’t hurt me! That brew was good when I sold it to you!” Cotio insisted.
The hag sneered at him and her hand glowed with a purple light. “So you’re saying it’s my fault now?”
“I’m saying there’s no refunds,” Cotio told her.
“It didn’t work! It turned my hair blue!” She knocked off her black hat and revealed short, curly blue hair.
Cotio winced. “If you read the instructions-”
“I did! It didn’t
