The clock struck noon.
Callista Wethers stepped into a musty and cramped breakroom, walking carefully between piles of boxes of all sizes, shapes, and materials. She navigated between this miniature city, past the creaky, metal chairs surrounding the flimsy card table, stopping at the mini fridge in the corner.
From the fridge, she pulled out her lunch: a glass case containing a vegetable and farro bowl. The casually exotic meal reminded her of her travels, long gone. She stood up, observing her surroundings. A needless precaution. Muscle memory, now useless, as Callista was the only person in the entire gallery today, let alone the little break room.
With a look, she opened a secret compartment of a wooden box next to the fridge. A secret compartment opened, revealing a small, glass vial with a bright amber liquid inside. She pulled the vial out, carrying it with her food to the dingy card table.
Like she'd done so many times before, she uncorked the vial and carefully hovered it over the unlidded farro bowl. With the utmost care, she watched as a tiny droplet of a drop leaked from the lips of the vial, dangling delicately like a dewdrop on a nourished garden leaf. All it takes is the smallest drop, any more would be a waste in more ways than one.
As the perfect drop came loose, a loud, shrieking ring pierced the breakroom. Callista jumped, and the drop jumped with her, turning into three large drops and plummeting into the farro. Callista looked down at the little bulbs of amber now nestling into her lunch. She sighed, and picked up the phone.
"Ancient Antiquities of Alm Street" she parroted the company line.
"Yes, with whom am I speaking?" chirped a clipped, Midatlantic accent from the other line.
"I'm an associate archivist ma'am. I'm qualified to answer any questions you might ask."
"Is that Callista Wethers, the associate archivist?" the voice responded.
Callista paused. It wasn't common for someone to request her by name. She'd made an effort to keep it that way, too. But she sensed no malice in the voice on the other line.
"This is she." she finally replied.
"And will you be there for some time?"
"I'll be here until we close, ma'am."
"Splendid. I'll be in shortly."
"I just sat down to my break, I'm afraid."
"Then I'll be in even shortlier." the voice informed, with surpressed delight. The line went dead. Callista hung her own receiver up and looked back at her lunch. The amber drops had begun to absorb into the farro. Too late to do anything about it.
Callista picked up her bowl, looking down at a bad decision. Something felt different today. Something felt different about her today. She took a fork and mashed the meal together, and took a bite.
------
Callista strode out into the gallery. It was a wide store front, covered in shining antiquities, crystalline sculptures, and rows and rows of books older than Callista's 30 years by a long stretch. She caught her steps, already striding wider and more confident than she would like. Three drops was simply too much. It would need an asterisk in the log.
She stopped at a large map, sewn into an aged cloth. Her eyes wandered along the sweeping rivers, and the dimples of high mountain peaks. Her heart ached, remembering the wind against her face and the smell of distant flora. She breathed deeply, her chest rising and not entirely falling. She looked down at her loose, white blouse. It wasn't as loose as she remembered.
She was brought back by another loud ring. The bell above the door jingled loudly as a massive woman stepped through the entry. Callista stared up at her serene beauty, dressed in tight adventure wear over a thick layer of muscle.
"Oh, don't mind Kelly. She loves to make an impression". That same chirping voice resounded from behind the large woman, as a much smaller woman walked in from behind her, dressed in loose summer clothes. She could only be described as jaunty, with her small, boney frame bouncing toward Callista with a hand outstretched. "And with her, it's so easy it's practically cheating.
"You must forgive Kelly. She lost some of her manners playing canasta with silverbacks for the past 6 months. You must be Ms. Callista Wethers. We spoke on the phone? It is Miss, isn't it?"
Callista braced against this whirlwind of a woman. She shook her hand. "Which question would you like me to answer first?"
"Why don't we just assume those are all yes answers and move on to the question I'm here to ask you." the woman replied.
"And what would that be, Miss...?"
"Redmond. Elaine Redmond. I'm here for your much desired experise, Ms. Wethers."
"Well you've come to the right place. We have much in the way of curios and fine pieces from all corners of the globe." Callista spoke as she walked toward a section of the gallery with many fine works of art and sculpture. Precious metals oxidized and caked in time's muck, but still shimmering in the light of the gallery.
As she walked, she felt the sleeves of her blouse ride up her wrists, ever so slightly. She felt a tightness growing along her shoulders.
Elaine followed, beaming with excitement. "You'll forgive me for interrupting, but I'm afraid everything in this collection looks a bit old for my taste. And cheap."
Callista frowned, putting back a glittering gold chalice studded with emeralds. "What is it exactly you're looking for, Ms. Redmond?"
"Come now. Don't assume my big mouth implies a diminished brain. I think you can gather the clues yourself, what with my hulking bodyguard and desire to meet with you specifically."
Callista sighed. Her breast creaked as she did. She looked down to see the faint stretch of her buttons against her shirt fabric. It was just a bit too small for her now larger breasts. She held back the urge to feel their new weight in the presence of strangers.
"I don't have any for you. And if I did, I wouldn't sell it." she said icily.
"Trust me, dear. That's not the least bit what I came for. Tell me, I'm just dying to know. How tall were you before your little expedition?"
Callista blushed. She looked away, and heard her blouse creak even more. She looked down at her sleeves, as they made a snail chase up her wrists. Her pencil skirt made a similar pace up her legs.
"Oh come now, don't be shy. We're all friends here. Kelly, tell Ms. Wethers how tall you were last October." Elaine turned to her huge bodyguard, whose head was currently stuck in a first edition of Thoreau.
"Five foot seven" Kelly replied in a sweet, thoughtful voice.
"Five foot seven. And how tall were you at breakfast this morning, Kelly?" Elaine clucked.
Kelly looked up from her Thoreau. "Six foot nine".
"Isn't that just marvelous? Can you even imagine. Well I suppose you can." She wandered over to the books, running a bony finger along the spines. "You know, I never saw the value of these old books. Paper can't appreciate that, no matter how long it takes."
"I think it has more to do with the content in-" Callista began but was cut off by Elaine's finger, now raised in front of her.
"Please don't feel the need to lecture me. And I don't know who you think you're fooling. You're becoming more ample by the second."
Callista looked down. Her sleeves were now riding up her forearms, now swollen with a new layer of soft muscle. She saw hints of flesh behind the strained buttons of her blouse, as her cleavage deepend, and began to spill further out from the top. The buttons held on for dear life. She wondered if Elaine was truly that small, or if she was already being warped by her new perspective.
"Like I told you," Callista replied, "I don't have what you're looking for. Why don't you ask your friend there for some."
"As you can tell from her appearance, which is also ample, dear Kelly drained herself of her supply as soon as she found it. She found a carafe full of nectar with a group of adventurers on a pirate ship in the middle of the Atlantic. Isn't that just fantastic?"
"If you're not after the nectar, then what do you want?" Callista prodded, becoming more tense under the strain of her stressed outfit.
"As you can see, I'm just shy of five feet, and at 24, I imagine there's not much chance of that changing. And with the price of nectar, I would have to drain my substantial inheritance to make a meaningful difference. So I have no choice to seek out the source. Aphrodite's Vein. You've seen it, haven't you Callista?"
Callista faltered. She moved toward a large, antique wood table and sat down. Elaine sat in the chair across from her. Callista contained herself, but in a seated position, her cleavage spilled out even further, and the screams of the overtaxed buttons could almost be heard by both women. The blouse strained to the max, with arcs furling out between each button, revealing a curving ladder of soft, pillowy flesh at each step.
She tried to ignore it, push away those thoughts of the journey some three years ago. "I prefer the name, 'Athena's Vein'. Goddess of wisdom, and-"
"Well it's not wisdom that seems to be swelling out of your blouse there, Mr. Wethers, so I think Aphrodite is quite the appropriate name. A font of nectar that enhances the size, stature, and... assets of women and women alone. What was it like?" Elaine pleaded.
"It's an oasis at the center of a jungle hell at the heart of a raging wall of rapids. I'm lucky to be alive." Callista spoke, haunted.
"We both are! Because now you can share with me the location of the vein." Elaine lifted her pocket book onto the table. She took out a checkbook and scribbled on it, tearing the check away and tossing it at Callista.
Callista looked down at her name on the line, with the margin blank. "I have a ship, and a crew. All I need is a heading. Name your price, and I'll be on my way." Elaine said as Callista gazed down at the blank check.
She looked up at the worn cloth map again. She fell back into the dream. Something in her was different. She had spent too long, not just in the gallery or the city, but in the comfort of the known. She felt a longing to return to a land of danger, and a life of defying death.
"I won't give you a heading, but I will give you something." Callista said, returning the check. "It would be murder to send you off to the vein without a guide. So I'm coming with you. It's either me or nothing." Callista folder her arms, expecting a fight. She felt her arms squeeze into her newly expanded bust, and before she could stop it, the top two buttons burst off into separate directions. Her breasts rippled out, free from their fabric prison and settling into a deep, inviting cleavage.
Elaine laughed. She grabbed the check and scribbled into the margin. "Then consider this... an advance." She threw the check back at the embarrassed Callista, whose eyes bulged at the number in the margin. Elaine grabbed her checkbook again, madly scribbling a new check. "And this... is a bonus." She ripped the check and handed it to Callista, with a business card on top. "My tailor. Get that blouse let out. And I assume you'll be needing a new travel wardrobe. You're quite different from the woman who left three years ago, I imagine."
"Five foot two." Callista announced, half listening.
"What's that?" Elaine asked.
"How tall I was before my expedition. And now..." Callista rose to her full height. Elaine did the same, but less so. "I'm five foot six."
"I'd say that estimate is a tad obsolete. Wouldn't you, Kelly?"
Kelly shut her book and looked down at them. "Quite."
"We depart from Pier 32 at dawn. Shall we see you then?" Elaine reached her hand out to Callista one last time. Callista took it.
"Count on it." Callista replied. Elaine smiled and bounced out of the door. Kelly followed behind her.
Callista collapsed back into her chair, in the harsh quiet of the empty gallery. The looseness of her fall split her skirt along the side, as her legs slid out in deep fatigue. She looked down at her now expanded legs and arms. Though they hadn't lengthened much, they'd widened considerably. She'd make a note in her log, increased dosage had a higher affect on proportion over height. Her careful portioning had given her 4 inches in 3 years. Now she'd sped things a long exponentially.
She flexed her arm, watching her new layer of muscle push through the sleeve. It tore just enough to prove her point. She felt her widened back against the chair. The strength of it. She felt stronger than she ever had been. She would need to be. Returning to Aphrodite's Vein would take a strength beyond anything in a vial could give her.
She thought back to the treacherous journey into the heart of adventure. All the near death escapes, the people she left behind. The person she missed the most. To return would take a strength not of the body, but of the soul.