Mauvrey looked embarrassed. “I hope you do not think less of me, but even though I have been in a sleeping curse for so many years, I feel strangely tired. Could we do a deep dive tomorrow and perhaps you could just answer a few more pressing questions I have tonight?
“Like what?” Peter asked.
“Like, where are Crisa, Blue, Jason, and Daniel? What are you all doing staying at Chance’s castle, without Chance? And what became of Alex and Arian?”
“The first two answers are kind of connected,” said Divya. She sat on the floor in front of the couch. “I’m Divya by the way. I’m a few years younger than you guys but we go to the same school.” She scooted forward to shake Mauvrey’s hand. “We figured out you were under a sleeping curse fairly quickly, and eventually learned that your mind could only be freed by physically removing the Shadow from you in the Dreamland dimension. Crisa, Blue, Jason, Daniel, Chance, and your old friend Girtha went on that quest exactly twenty-five days ago.”
“And Kai,” Marie chimed in. “Daniel’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, yes.” Mauvrey’s face sunk. “I think I . . .” She squinted and shook her head. “I met her leading up to the Vicennalia Aurora?”
“You gave the order to kill her, is my understanding,” Merlin commented.
“That wasn’t Mauvrey,” Gordon corrected. He looked at her thoughtfully. “Tara did it. Don’t beat yourself up about all the things she is responsible for.
“Agreed,” Javier said. “As far as we’re concerned, the real Mauvrey Weatherall was reborn tonight and we’re meeting her for the first time.”
“I do not know if all the people I have hurt will see it that way,” Mauvrey replied. “I wear the face of a girl who has tried to kill a number of you, led an attack to overthrow her own parents, and worked with the antagonists to bring down our entire world.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” Peter jested.
Mauvrey cracked a small, sad smile.
“Anyway, that is partially why we are here at Chance’s castle,” I continued. “It was the best place to keep you safe.”
“And Arian and Alex?” Mauvrey asked.
“Who knows,” Pietro said coldly. “Who cares.”
I looked at Pietro sympathetically. Alex was the middle Knight child, but eldest in terms of royal blood given that Pietro was adopted. Several months ago, Alex had been manipulated by Tara-Mauvrey, turned against his family, and joined the antagonists. Until recently he had also hosted a Shadow like some of our other enemies—known as Shadow Guardians.
“Alex vanished during the Vicennalia Aurora confrontation in Oz,” I explained to Mauvrey. “Crisa purged the Shadow from him and he collapsed, but we lost track of him during the battle. Arian’s location is also a mystery, though we can rest assured he is out there plotting. Based on Crisa’s visions, we believe he and Tara are in Dreamland trying to foil our friends.”
“I do not know if I have ‘rested assured’ for many years,” Mauvrey replied wistfully. “But I do feel as though I am about to pass out now, so can we continue in the morning?”
“We can,” I said, standing. “But first, there is something important we need to know.”
She looked at me expectantly. “What is that?”
I moved directly in front of Mauvrey then squatted down before her to meet her eyes completely. “You said that your last memory is of the bright light that collided with you. That light was the mental energy of a Fairy Godmother named Paige Tomkins. Her memories are inside of you now, so we need to ask you, Mauvrey—do you know where Book’s genies are?”
We all stared at the princess. She seemed overwhelmed by the attention, and closed her eyes to concentrate. Her brow furrowed.
“I . . . I feel them,” she said after a moment, as if in a daze. “Memories that are not my own. If I focus on Paige’s name, I see short, blurry flashes in my mind but—” She clutched her head suddenly and cried out. Marie grabbed Mauvrey’s arm to keep her from falling off the bed.
“She needs time,” Merlin said, stepping forward. He knelt in front of the princess and looked up at her pained face, studying her. “The memories are there, but it’s a lifetime worth of them. She’ll need the right tools and triggers to clarify then sort through them.”
He stood, addressing the rest of us. “We have Paige’s memories now; we just need to be patient while their new vessel figures out how to process them. And we need to continue to protect that vessel from the antagonists.”
“Upgraded from coma patient to vessel,” Mauvrey mused weakly as Marie and I helped her into the bed. “Quite the day I am having.”
Marie let out a small laugh. “Sorry,” she said to the group. “I have known Tara as Mauvrey for seven years and she has never made a joke.” She looked at the princess. “Is real you funny?”
Mauvrey shrugged. “I do not know. I have all the same memories as Tara, and I assume that means I may also have the same skills she developed and knowledge she absorbed, but we have different souls. Mine has just not had the chance to breathe for many years. After being hijacked for that long, I truly do not know who I am.”
“We’ll help you figure it out together,” Divya said with a reassuring nod.
“I appreciate that,” Mauvrey said, relaxing into the pillows. “Considering I have not done anything to deserve it.” Her tone turned serious again with a touch of misery. “I really cannot thank you all enough for saving me. I will try my best to return the favor and recall the memories you are after as soon as possible.”
“On that note,” Merlin said, “let’s leave the young princess to get some nightmare-free slumber. Come, everyone.” We followed his lead toward the door.
“Wait, SJ, I thought this was your room,” Mauvrey said.
“It is,” I replied. “But I will not be needing it tonight. Do not worry.”
Mauvrey could only mutter, “Okay, but I—” before she passed out. I extinguished the lights, and we crept out of the room to congregate briefly in the hall.
“I don’t want you kids to worry,” Merlin said. “Tomorrow Peter and I will watch Mauvrey and explain the full story to her. We’ll also tell the Darling family about her waking up, and I’ll see what ye olde future seeing abilities can do to help us figure out how to access her memories.” Merlin knocked on his head confidently.
“Do you think Mauvrey waking up means that Mark will wake up soon too?” Javier asked. My heart panged at the thought. Prince Mark was our friend from school who the antagonists had put under the same Shadow-induced sleeping curse as Mauvrey. For reasons still unclear, the villains deemed him a threat and when they could not kill him, they took him out of action this way. Regrettably, we only uncovered that fact earlier in the summer. It broke my heart that we had not known sooner. His family kept insisting that he was sick and recovering, but would return to school, and we believed them. I wished I had followed up in person, but our constant conflict with the antagonists and other individual problems had always taken priority. Shame on me for the lack of follow up anyway.
Goodness, I certainly hoped he would wake soon. Our Dreamland bound friends had journeyed to the alternate dimension with two doses of magic sand from Sandman—one to free Mauvrey of her Shadow and the other to free Mark of his.
“Time works differently here than it does in Dreamland,” Divya reminded Javier. “Our friends could wake Mauvrey and Mark within minutes of each other in that dimension, but we don’t know how much time that would equate to in Book.”
“Mark’s mother would call me if he woke up,” I said with certainty. “Queen Belleny is aware of what Crisa and the others are trying to do. She remains alert and hopeful.”
“Don’t we all,” Gordon said. “Our friends are due back tomorrow night when the portal to Dreamland finally opens in tune with the full moon. If they were able to free Mauvrey, I have faith they’ll get to Mark in time too.”
We nodded in agreement.
“Do you want to share my room for the night, SJ?” Mar
ie offered after a moment, pivoting toward me.
“Thank you, but no,” I said. “I know a place I can rest.” Merlin shot me a look, but I ignored it. “Pleasant dreams, everyone,” I said decidedly. “Get some rest. Tomorrow is important.”
“Every day is important,” Gordon sighed.
I glanced at him. “Then it is a good thing we are strong enough to handle it.”
found potion laboratories calming.
There was something about the way the lights reflected off the beakers, the rainbow-range of ingredient colors, and the symphony of delicate sounds created by the clinking of glass, grinding of mortars, and audible puffs of smoke released when brews reacted in a cauldron.
Ladies were traditionally supposed to be modest, and I was. However, the plain truth stood that I was excellent at many princess things—communicating with animals through song, ballroom dancing, social etiquette, and so forth. These skills had served me well over the years at school and at home, but in our ever-changing world, I feared they would become increasingly obsolete, as would a lot of what made me exceptional. A great deal of my personality was rooted in the old world, and it was only a short jump from old to irrelevant. Thankfully, I did have one skill that I was optimistic would not only stand the test of time but carry me into the future. It was the skill I was most proud of, and most passionate about, which I had gladly honed in this room for many weeks. Potions.
With the Darlings’ blessing, Merlin and I had set up an improvised potions lab in the basement level of their castle. Here is where I found my peace and solace all summer. After speaking with Mauvrey, I could think of no better place to relax. Sleep was better for the body, but this was better for the mind.
I nodded at the guard stationed atop the stone steps that led to my lab. At the base of the stairwell, the wooden door connecting to my private area creaked affectionately when I pushed it open. I closed it behind me and lit a few lanterns to illuminate the orderly room. Merlin may have been unpredictable, but he and I shared a fondness for organization. I was glad for that. Enforcing such behavior on Blue over the years had been taxing; training her as a respectful roommate had taken longer than training the beagle that had been my first pet. Rest in peace, Sir Biscuits.
I strode across the room past various workstations to a bookshelf that housed the potions textbooks Merlin had brought with him from Camelot. Other shelves held my own volumes, and those we had found in the Darling Castle library. I reached for the highest shelf where I kept a small purple book of my own authorship. I held the precious thing in my hands and passed my thumb over the Lady Agnue’s gold crest on the front. For years, I had recorded potions ideas here. It was only during the last few months that I had started to act on them, creating my self-designed concoctions and even submitting some for patents.
I plucked a quill and inkwell from one of our lab tables and settled on a windowless window seat built into the corner of the room. I put my legs up on the cushions and began to flip through the pages, stopping to jot notes or make alterations to formulas when inspiration struck.
I was not sure when my eyes closed, but they must have at some point. One moment I was adjusting the ratio of toadstools in my recipe for curing insomnia, and the next, Merlin stood gazing over me.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he said.
He had changed his robes and his beard looked like it had been touched up, but the circles under his eyes were dark. He had turned on all the lights in the lab and I squinted a bit as I sat up, careful not to spill the inkwell beside me. “What time is it?”
“Four o’clock on the dot,” he said. “I know what a fan you are of punctuality and schedules. But are you sure you’re up for this? We had a rather unconventional evening.”
“Merlin, I am fine.” I closed my journal and stood up to stretch, resisting the urge to rub my eyes. Like burping or yawning or whistling, it was not ladylike to do that in public. I sighed internally; it took a lot of discipline to stick to so many rules. It would be much easier to throw them out the window like Crisa did, but I just . . . I liked rules. I valued them so long as they did not harm or hold anyone back. To throw them away would be like throwing a piece of myself away. Just because something was annoying and old-fashioned did not mean it was wrong.
“Where do you want to begin?” I asked.
“Considering what happened yesterday, and that it is a big day with Crisanta and the others returning, I thought it might serve you nicely to work out some anxiety. Why don’t we practice with your newest portable potions?”
I nodded, energized by the thought. “Do you want to try them as well?”
“Nah. Portable potions are your thing. I am happy to observe.”
I smiled. They were my thing.
“I’m going to time you,” Merlin said through the intercom.
The combat arena adjacent to where we had set up our lab had everything I needed—space, targets, and thick walls. The room was stone reinforced with load-bearing steel and golden beam rafters. It also had a built-in intercom that allowed anyone watching the practice from behind the unbreakable glass window to communicate with the person inside. For someone like Merlin who loved to provide commentary, this was ideal.
My magic potions sack hung from my belt and rested on my hip. It felt like an old pet, glad to be at my side once again. The sack had been magically enhanced by a Fairy Godmother and hosted a small wormhole inside. If I put my hand into the sack, I could pull out anything I desired so long as I knew precisely where the object was and it fit through the mouth of the bag. The sack was handy and beloved, as was the second tool in my arsenal.
Equal warm familiarity radiated from my hand as I held my slingshot—made by Jason, but designed by me. While Daniel used a sword, Blue preferred hunting knives, Jason wielded an axe, and Crisa had her wand, this was my weapon of choice. Only instead of rocks, the projectiles I used were portable potions—miniature crystalized brews that I had invented to release enchantments upon impact. Thanks to my magic sack, as long as I kept a supply of brewed portable potions somewhere safe, I would never run out of ammo.
“Turn the difficulty setting to eight,” I said, gazing around the vast stone room. “I am feeling charged up today.”
“You got it,” Merlin said. “Fight Drill loading in ten, nine, eight, seven . . .”
I steadied my breathing.
“Three, two, one.”
Glittering gel humanoids wielding weapons began to form on the magical projection pads that lined the walls of the room. Once fully shaped, the figures became independent and began to charge me. They would continue to do so unless I stopped them.
I slipped my hand into my potions sack and ran, concentrating on a locked drawer in our lab and the portable potion I wanted to call up. I drew a silver, marble-sized orb from my sack and shot it at the closest humanoid racing toward me with a glittery gel club. My potion impacted the floor just in front of the humanoid and ice burst out, entirely encasing the target. Three more attackers drew near and I fired a series of potions in response—a pair of reds to create small explosions that blew up two humanoids, and a jade potion to imprison the third threat in slime.
Silvers, reds, and jades were my three trusty, original portable potions that I had relied on since my adventures with this slingshot began. Now though I had a few new ones that I had fine-tuned during my time in the lab.
Not enough space to safely launch one of my more impactful brews, I pulled three translucent potions from my sack and fired at a trio of dangerously close humanoids. When the potions smashed against the floor, small cyclones of wind whipped up and consumed my targets in individual tornadoes that sent them spinning across the room away from me. This bought me time to draw two purple potions, which I fired at another set of attackers. When these orbs struck the ground, the humanoids were shot back and disintegrated by bolts of lightning.
More and more magical targets came at me, but my body and brain never grew fearful. They moved in perfec
t sync as I eliminated one threat after another. When I had taken down several dozen humanoids, sweat started to fall from my brow. The highest setting I had ever tried in this training room was Level Seven. The levels were not based on the amount of time fighting, but how many humanoids you destroyed. I knew the end of this level was near when a surge of more than twenty humanoids began to move toward me at once from all sides. I planted my feet firmly and drew my closing move.
The indigo portable potion was cold in my grip, feeling more fragile than the others due to its unique crystallization process. Instead of launching the potion with my slingshot, I crushed it in my hand—releasing an intense, continuous surge of shaking energy that I directed with my arm. I had made an experimental version of this earthquake potion on our Author quest last fall. It had taken down a castle and almost killed everyone in the vicinity. I had modified it since then, discovering that if you held it tight, you could control the brutal force of the enchantment as if it were an extension of your will.
I shouted as I struggled to conduct the great power coming out of my clenched hand. Holding my arm up with fist aimed at the encircling enemies, I spun. The earthquake power ejecting from my hand hit the humanoids like invisible battering rams, thrusting them back toward the walls with such strength that they disintegrated on impact. In less than ten seconds, I had destroyed all the humanoids. A moment later the last of the potion dissolved in my grip and the power was gone. The ceiling flashed with lights and an automated voice declared: “LEVEL COMPLETE.”
I lowered my arm and stretched my shoulder. That potion had a lot of kickback, but I was getting better at bracing myself against it.
Merlin came through the door. “That was terrific!” he said, clearly astonished. “You completed the level in three minutes.”
“I surprised you,” I commented.
“There is no higher compliment,” he returned. “Come now, I have some thoughts on the earthquake potion. I think we can extend the amount of time it lasts by another two seconds.”
Midnight Law Page 5