Elixir

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Elixir Page 14

by Ruth Vincent


  I laughed to hide how much it still pained me and swallowed hard. I could feel Obadiah’s eyes on me.

  “What did they say?” he asked.

  “My mom said, ‘Our little girl has such a great imagination!’ and Dad said, ‘Kids really do say the darndest things!’ And then they went right back to eating their cereal. They didn’t understand why I started crying.”

  “There’s no way to tell ­people, is there?” Obadiah said at last, breaking the silence that had fallen. “They never believe us.”

  “I wish I could tell my parents the truth, though—­I mean—­they’re my parents!”

  “They’re you’re human parents,” said Obadiah. “What about your fairy parents—­do you miss them?”

  I shook my head. “I’m an orphan. I never knew my fairy mom or dad. They died of the Elixir drought.” I was silent for a moment, staring out the crystal of the ball. “I think that’s why the Queen chose me to help her on her missions to take the children. I didn’t have a family who’d miss me.”

  I looked over at him.

  “It feels good to talk about this stuff. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to honestly talk to anyone about my life. I mean, without having to edit out all the supernatural parts.”

  “Me too,” he said quietly. “I’ve tried to tell these stories to the Wolfmen and the Sanguinari—­but they don’t understand the human parts. You understand both,” he said to me.

  A silence settled over us, but it didn’t feel so awkward now.

  Hours later, we were still huddled up together, the crumbs of the snacks Obadiah had brought spread on our laps. They’d turned the LED lights on and the colors splashed in strobing rainbow patterns across Obadiah’s face. It was getting late. I checked the time on my phone.

  “Oh my god, it’s nearly midnight!” I gasped.

  How was it that we had been talking for over six hours and not even realized it? Time did magical things around Obadiah.

  He pulled out his pocket watch and examined it. It was funny, seeing the old-­fashioned timepiece while inside this high-­tech steel-­and-­LED time contraption.

  “They’ll be activating the ball soon,” he said.

  A roar went up from the crowd below.

  I peered through the shifting colors of the ball to Times Square hundreds of feet below us, and I shuddered. I’d never thought I was afraid of heights. Then again, I’d never been up this high before—­well, not in a clear bubble where I could see just exactly how high up I was. What was going to happen at midnight, when we fell? It’ll be like going on a roller coaster, I told myself. Then again, what the hell was I thinking? I hated roller coasters; I was always the one screaming my head off in terror while everyone else was going “whee!” Relax, I told myself, don’t think about it; remember, it’s the only way to get to the Vale.

  I could hear shouts and yelling and faintly what sounded like drunken singing coming from the street below.

  Times Square was completely packed now. The crowd extended all the way down the side streets for as far as I could see. The sound of the crowd had become a low, rumbling roar, like the sound of the ocean.

  After dark, they’d started the “entertainment.” In the center of the square below, some teenage boy band belted out pop songs from a big stage. I recognized one of the songs. I’d heard it on the radio dozens of times and never really liked it, but somehow it sounded better tonight. Maybe it was because there was magic in the air—­literally.

  Obadiah checked his pocket watch.

  “Five minutes!” He grinned.

  I could tell he was getting excited.

  “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

  Obadiah looked up, surprised.

  “Oddly enough, I do,” he said. “You wouldn’t think I would enjoy going to visit the place of my former kidnapping”—­he shook his head—­“and yet these little bootlegging trips are the highlight of my year. I suppose I just like the traveling, the being in between. And that sense of danger . . . maybe it’s the pirate in me.”

  There was a lurch; my body fell forward and I stopped myself with my hands against the crystal as the ball moved under our feet. My breath caught in my throat and my body tightened with terror. Then I heard a loud metallic squeak and we stopped moving.

  “They just pressed the button for the drop,” said Obadiah.

  “What happens at the end of the countdown?” I asked.

  “The spell takes effect. The veil between the worlds becomes permeable and we cross into the Vale. Reality opens up for a split second. Nobody even notices because they’re so busy cheering and kissing and blowing whistles. We exit the ball, it goes back to human Times Square, and no one is the wiser.”

  The ball gave another jolt under our feet and I felt my stomach drop. Panicked, I looked up at Obadiah, but he was calm as could be, waving at the crowds below who couldn’t see him.

  And then we started descending.

  I screamed, my stomach lurching as we started moving. But I wasn’t flying now—­we were going down.

  A cheer rose up from the crowd below; the collective roar of humanity. And then the cacophony of voices became one voice.

  “Ten!” they shouted.

  What was it going to be like when they got to “one”?

  I was scared.

  I grabbed Obadiah’s hand. But he took a tiny streamer whistle out of his pocket and blew on it, making an obnoxious noise. Clearly he was having a grand time.

  “Nine . . . !”

  “When we transition to the next world, what’s it going to be like?” I asked nervously.

  “Relax, Mab, you’ll be fine . . .”

  “Seven . . . !”

  How the hell was I supposed to relax? We were getting closer and closer to the bottom of the pole!

  “Six . . . !” the crowd bellowed.

  The giant ramen noodle sign slid past us. Lights flashed all around; the sound of the crowd was deafening.

  “Five!” they roared.

  My ears popped.

  “Four!” they chanted in unison. Their voices were getting louder.

  “Three . . .”

  I looked down at the crystal between my feet. We were almost there.

  “Two . . . !”

  “One . . . !”

  Light exploded around us. Booming blasts shook the ball. And there was smoke—­wait, why was there smoke?

  “Obadiah—­something’s wrong—­the ball is on fire!”

  He was saying something—­I could see his lips moving, but I couldn’t hear him—­the sound had deafened me. Each blast shook me inside, vibrating in my bones. I screamed, but I didn’t think he could hear me. In the strobes of glaring light that illuminated Obadiah’s face, I could see that he was smiling. Why was he smiling? The ball was exploding!

  “Relax, Mab, it’s the fireworks . . .”

  But then suddenly it wasn’t the fireworks. A flash of white light like an atom bomb blinded me—­and the bottom of the ball disappeared out from under our feet. We were falling, falling into nothingness.

  “Oh shiiiiii—­!”

  I never finished my expletive. I never heard the crowd yell, “Happy New Year!” I only felt the jolt of impact as my body slammed into something cold and hard. Vaguely, as if underwater, I heard voices singing “Auld Lang Syne,” and then everything went black.

  Chapter 14

  I heard the slow sound of dripping water. There was a dull, throbbing pain at my tailbone and the skin on my knees felt burning and raw. I rolled over, groaning. Everything hurt. What the hell had happened to me? And then I remembered the fall . . .

  The Elixir must have worn off by now, because all I could feel was pain. Slowly, I managed to sit up. Everything around me was still pitch-­black. I blinked, but it didn’t matter if my eyes were open or shut—­I
was surrounded by darkness.

  Where the hell was I? It didn’t seem like the Vale, but it was certainly no longer Times Square.

  I heard a low, rumbling groan. It was Obadiah. My fingers reached out in the dark and connected with his. He squeezed my hand.

  “Good, you’re alive,” I heard him mutter.

  “Barely,” I said, rising to my feet, wincing as I moved. I must be covered in bruises.

  My eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, and I could see the big, hulking shadow of him, staggering to his feet. Painfully, I moved towards him.

  I reached my hands out to steady myself, and he caught me, helping me balance. My other hand brushed against a wall, its surface cool and smooth and slightly slick, like the skin of a frog. At first I recoiled, and then I reached out to touch it again, fascinated. As I drew my hand back, I could smell it on my fingers—­that crackle of a thunderstorm—­Elixir. . .

  “Obadiah?” I asked, my heart pounding. “Are we in the Vale?”

  “Sort of,” Obadiah said. “We’re in the subterranean passages. This is how I smuggle the Elixir,” he explained. “But yes, as soon as we get out of these passages you’ll be back home.”

  Home!

  A lump of joy was forming in my throat.

  It had been so long since I’d been home. I couldn’t quite believe it was really happening.

  “I never thought I’d be able to come back,” I said, my voice hushed with amazement.

  I didn’t even know where I wanted to go first.

  The thought of my old House Tree danced in my mind. I could still picture it—­all the knothole windows lit up in the enormous trunk, the clotheslines flapping like prayer flags in the breeze, the little fairy orphans playing up in the branches, throwing acorns at one another and laughing.

  “I haven’t been home in twenty-­two years,” I said softly.

  I could sleep in my old bed tonight—­fall asleep listening to the sap whooshing rhythmically through the trunk of the tree like a heartbeat. I felt warm and happy, and for a moment, I forgot all about the pain in my body, the stress of how much I needed to set right, the anxiety of what the future would bring.

  I wondered if any of my old childhood playmates still lived at the House Tree. Surely Ursaline, my old bear nurse, would still be there? She’d be so glad to see me.

  “Obadiah,” I asked, “after we find Eva, would you like to come with me to visit my old home?”

  For some reason, I really wanted him to see the House Tree I’d grown up in. He might have already come over to my apartment, but I wanted him to see where I was from.

  “I don’t think Ursaline would mind,” I said. “Ursaline is an Animalia who took in us orphaned fairy kids,” I explained. “I warn you, she might try to lick your face; she is a bear after all. But it’s meant with love.”

  I couldn’t help but smile, thinking about Ursaline.

  There was so much I needed to do once we got out of this tunnel and into the Vale—­rescue Eva, confront the Fairy Queen, try to find my Shadow, see if we could help the other Shadow children—­but as soon as all of that was done, I was going to visit my old home.

  “Um . . . Mab?” said Obadiah. The light had gotten slightly brighter in the tunnel as we walked along and I could see his face now, his brow lined in concern. “Maybe you don’t want to go back to your old House Tree.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Of course I’m going to take care of all the important stuff beforehand—­Eva and the Queen and my Shadow and all that,” I said quickly, “but afterwards . . .”

  “Even afterwards, I’m not sure you should,” Obadiah cut me off.

  “What are you saying?”

  I didn’t understand. What was his problem? Why didn’t he want me to go back and see my old home, my old friends?

  Then I realized, they probably all thought I was dead. It would be a huge shock for them to see me. Ursaline had probably given my old room over to some other orphan years ago. My elation was beginning to drain away.

  Obadiah paused, as if carefully weighing his words.

  “It’s been twenty-­two years since you’ve been home.” I could tell by the strain in his voice that he was trying to put what he was about to say gently. “Things have changed a lot in the Vale since you left. I just want to warn you.”

  I was silent, feeling sick with fear. When I left, there were already fairies dying of the Elixir drought. How bad had it gotten since?

  “Do you think they won’t be there?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Everyone I grew up with?”

  “I think they’re probably still alive. Especially if they were Animalia, like your bear friend Ursaline. They’re hearty. They’ll survive. That’s not what I’m concerned about.”

  “So what are you afraid of?” I asked.

  We were getting towards the end of the passage. I could see a light up ahead, its beams streaming into the darkness of the cave. I could feel the air getting warmer, fresher, the smell of springtime in the tiny drift of a breeze. We were almost there!

  “Even if they are all the same,” Obadiah said, “remember, you aren’t the same. You’re human now.”

  Of course I was human. I knew this. And yet, somehow, I hadn’t put it together. I knew I looked human from the outside, but still, I thought surely, when I saw my old childhood friends again, my old teachers, old Ursaline—­they would recognize me. Maybe it would take a moment for them to realize it was me, and I would have to explain who I was, but they’d figure it out—­surely, they could see it in my eyes? They’d know it was me, wouldn’t they? I was still Fey on the inside.

  “I’ll tell them what happened,” I said. “I’ll tell them how the Queen tricked me into becoming a changeling. I’ll make them understand.”

  But I didn’t know if I was trying to reassure Obadiah or myself. My fear was growing.

  What if they didn’t believe me?

  Obadiah looked at me sadly. “If you even have the chance,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  He hesitated.

  “I mean, if they don’t kill you on sight because they think you’re human.”

  “But they wouldn’t . . .” My voice trailed off and I didn’t finish my sentence. A cold fear had settled itself in my gut. They wouldn’t . . . would they?

  I couldn’t imagine anyone I’d grown up with in the Vale killing anyone, for any reason. But I couldn’t dismiss the awful possibility, and fear spread like icy water through my body. What did I know about how someone from the Vale would react to a human? I’d never been in the Vale as a human before.

  But Obadiah had.

  And look how they’d treated him.

  I felt sick.

  “They won’t,” I said. “They’ll understand. I’ll make them understand.”

  But I couldn’t convince myself.

  “I hope so,” Obadiah said quietly, his face set in a hard line. “I hope for your sake that you’re right.”

  “Yeah . . .” My voice trailed off to nothing. Things had seemed so simple just a few minutes ago, and now I realized just how complicated they were. I was still glad I was here, but the joy was mixed with trepidation.

  The light up ahead was growing brighter. I could hear sounds in the distance, sounds of life instead of just the echoing drip-­drip of the cave. The light reflected on the rock walls, making them sparkle.

  We had reached the mouth of the cave. Light poured in all around us from the parallel sun. I could feel its warmth blessing my skin. I could smell the sweet tanginess of Elixir on the breeze. I could almost taste it on my tongue. I was home!

  “So . . . ?” he asked me as the light streamed down on us. “Where to?”

  I took a deep breath. “The Quartz Spires. I want to see the Fairy Queen.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “
I have to go,” I cut him off. “If Eva is in the Vale, trust me, the Queen will know where she is. She keeps tabs on everything. Don’t worry, she’ll know I’m a changeling. The Queen’s palace has an even better magic detection system than the one you have set up at your store.”

  “You think her knowing you’re a changeling will keep you safe?” he replied.

  I nodded.

  “I think it will. The fairies don’t kill their own. Banish, yes, but not kill. She could have killed me the night I became a changeling but she didn’t. I’m not saying she’s going to be happy to see me, but I don’t think she’ll murder me either. And I don’t have a choice—­I need answers.”

  Obadiah shook his head. “I hope you’re right about the Queen. I like you, Mab—­I wouldn’t want you to end in a swirl of Feydust.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled, feeling warm inside. I still wasn’t sure what Obadiah thought of me—­but at least he didn’t want me to die.

  He looked uneasy.

  “I haven’t been back in the Quartz Spires since I escaped,” he said quietly. “It’s not exactly a place I wanted to revisit.”

  My heart clenched as he said it. Underneath the Queen’s glittering city were the dungeons where he’d been imprisoned. And I was asking him to go back there with me? Suddenly, I felt guilty.

  “I’ll have to evade the guards,” he was saying. “They’ll kill me if they catch me. I’m pretty sure I’m on the Queen’s most-­wanted list for stealing her Elixir.”

  “Then it’s not safe for you to come with me.”

  Obadiah frowned, but his eyes were resolute.

  “I told you I’d help find your friend,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I keep my word.”

  “I don’t doubt that,” I said, “not anymore. But you’re right—­if the Queen catches you, she’s going to kill you. You’re on her hit list for stealing her Elixir. I’ve changed my mind. I can’t let you come along it’s too dangerous.”

  “Mab, I’m coming with you,” he insisted, but I cut him off.

  “I need your help to get back to New York City when this is all over with. I don’t know how to travel back on my own. I can’t do that Focus spell in reverse.”

 

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