Elixir

by Ruth Vincent

  But I stopped. I had an idea, something I could do on my own without involving my birth mother.

  I reached my hand into the pocket of my jeans. The little flask of Elixir that Obadiah had given me was still in there, right where I’d put it yesterday, its metal surface cold to the touch. I might not have him anymore, but I had the Elixir.

  I drew out the flask. It shone in the light that streamed through the transparent walls of the crystal tower. The only thing that Obadiah had given me.

  I held it in my hands for a moment, thinking.

  I couldn’t sing any spell, being human. If I drank some, it might make me levitate again, but that wouldn’t help me get Eva out. What could I do?

  Unscrewing the cap, I opened the flask. The just-­before-­a-­thunderstorm smell of magic filled the air of the small room.

  I jiggled the liquid back and forth, trying to judge how much Elixir was inside. Not much. Maybe a few tablespoons. But still, it was better than nothing.

  What would happen if I poured some Elixir onto the cocoon? Would it make it easier to break into? Or would the magic make the cocoon twice as thick? There was no way to know.

  The only thing I could do was just try and see.

  I closed my eyes. I might not be able to sing a spell or do any of my old Fey magic. But I could hold an intention in my mind as I held the flask of Elixir in my hand. Could that alone direct the flow of magic, make the fickle Elixir do what I wanted? I hoped it would be enough.

  Please, I whispered, clutching the flask, eyes closed, my head bowed over Eva’s sleeping body. Let the Elixir melt away the cocoon. Let Eva awaken alive and unharmed. Help me to free my friend. Help me to bring her home.

  Giving the flask a squeeze between my clasped hands, I poured a few drops onto the cocoon and waited, my heart in my mouth.

  The Elixir made a hissing sound as it hit the cocoon’s fibers. A mist rose up. Was it mist or smoke? I couldn’t tell, and for a second I was terrified that it might be on fire—­I saw the fibers curling up, falling away—­oh no, was the Elixir eating into the cocoon like some kind of acid or flame—­was it going to burn Eva?

  But as the cocoon fell away entirely around Eva’s face, I could see she was unharmed.

  I reached out and touched her. Her skin was warm.

  As my fingertips brushed her cheek, her eyes popped open.

  “Mab?” she said, sounding surprised and slightly groggy.

  “You’re okay!” I reached down and wrapped my arms around her in an enveloping hug. I couldn’t even feel the tickling fibers of the cocoon anymore, I was just so glad to see her.

  “Where am I? What is this?” I heard Eva say. Our eyes met. “Where the hell am I, Mab?”

  Oh no. How the hell was I going to explain to Eva where she really was? Crap—­this was why the Queen had urged me to keep her asleep. Would she believe me if I told her the truth? But what other explanation was there?

  “I don’t know how to tell you this,” I said. “I’m not sure even where to begin . . .”

  Eva looked at me, wide-­eyed.

  “Listen, Mab,” she said. “I don’t know what is going on. I feel like I’m wrapped in a spiderweb—­and we’re inside a clear-­glass skyscraper, but it smells like a thunderstorm—­and maybe I’m dreaming or hallucinating, but if you’re really here, Mab—­you’re my best friend. We’ve always told each other everything. You can talk to me. You can tell me what’s going on. We’ve never kept secrets from each other.”

  “But I have kept secrets from you, Eva,” I said, a lump in my throat.

  She stared up at me, not understanding.

  “There were things I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t know how. I was afraid you’d think I was crazy. I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me. Well, now, I guess it’s time for me to come clean.”

  Chapter 20

  I took a deep breath and poured out the whole story of everything that had happened—­the real, unedited version of events—­not leaving out the magic parts this time.

  I could hear my own voice and it sounded like someone else’s. I could barely believe what I was saying—­how was Eva going to believe me? It sounded too fantastical. But I had no other choice but to tell the truth.

  When I was finished, I exhaled a heavy sigh and then my eyes met Eva’s. What did she think of all this? What was she going to say?

  She was silent for a long moment. My heart beat faster and faster, and I was growing more and more nervous with each passing second. Was she going to think I’d gone insane? Was she going to be mad at me?

  Eva let out a slow breath.

  “Okay,” she said softly.

  “Okay?”

  I was shocked that she was taking this so calmly. If I had just found out that a whole other world that I’d never heard of existed I’d probably be running around screaming my head off. Instead, Eva was just sitting there silently, her dark eyes wide.

  “You believe me?” I asked breathlessly.

  She smiled, a big lopsided grin, and suddenly she looked so like her old self again that I wanted to cry.

  “Well,” she said in her old matter-­of-­fact way, “a story this far-­fetched, this ridiculous, this implausible, just has to be true—­because there’s just no way you could make shit like this up.”

  I had to laugh. I loved Eva’s logic.

  “I was worried you were going to think I was crazy,” I said.

  “I still think you’re crazy.” She smiled. “But I believe you.”

  Then her voice grew serious. “Truth be told, I always suspected that something like this existed.”

  “You did?”

  She paused, a sad smile in her eyes.

  “You know how I have my altar? My candles and statues and herbs? I wouldn’t have done any of that if I didn’t have a lingering suspicion, a hope, I guess . . . that there was something else out there. I never talked much about that part of my life. I always thought ­people would think I was nuts.”

  “But I knew.” I touched her shoulder. “I loved your little altar. It meant you believed in magic—­and it always gave me hope, that maybe someday I could tell you the truth, and that you’d understand. I never thought you were nuts.”

  “Well, you’re nuts too. We have that in common.” She grinned. “I just never dreamed that . . . we were right.”

  She turned towards the window, staring wide-­eyed at the crystal towers gleaming like fire as the light from the other sun hit them.

  “I’m glad you woke me up. I would have been really pissed if I’d slept through this.”

  I smiled, but then I remembered the Queen, my mother, and how little time I had.

  “I hate to tell you this, but we’re going to have to seal you into this thing again. You’ll need to pretend you’re still asleep. My, um . . . mom . . . doesn’t know I let you out. If you stay here, I’ll go down to the dungeons to try to find my Shadow.”

  Eva was affronted. “I am not staying here while you go to the dungeon.”

  “But . . .”

  “Let me go with you to find your Shadow!” she insisted.

  She had that gleam in her eyes again, the gleam of adventure. It had always been my favorite part of Eva, but right now, I just felt scared.

  “I don’t want you to risk it. It’s dangerous what I’m doing. I already got you in enough trouble at Obadiah’s club with the Elixir. You wouldn’t have been there in the first place if it hadn’t been for me. I still feel terrible about that. I would never forgive myself if something else happened. I’ll come back to get you, I promise. But in the meantime, you’ll be safe.”

  Eva shook her head at me.

  “Safe is boring. I’m coming with you to find your Shadow.”

  “Eva . . .”

  But Eva waved her hand dismissively.

  “Wouldn’
t it be better to do this with two ­people, anyway? That way one of us could be lookout while the other searches for your Shadow?”

  I had to admit she had a point.

  It wasn’t like I had Obadiah’s help anymore, and she was right, it would be easier with backup.

  “But if we get caught . . .” I started.

  “Put in a good word for me with your mom?” she countered.

  I sighed. Eva was viewing this like a great adventure, but I was nervous. Then again, if the Queen really was my mother, surely she’d respect my wishes. If she really did feel guilty about the past, she’d want to make it up to me now. The Queen must know that if she hurt Eva, it would damage our fledgling mother-­daughter relationship beyond repair; certainly she wouldn’t try anything. Maybe Eva was right?

  “Okay,” I relented, “but we’ve got to be careful.”

  Eva smiled, and sheepishly, I smiled in return. It was good to have her back.

  I peered out into the hallway. There was no sign of my mother, or anyone else outside the door. The hall was empty.

  Nervously, we tiptoed out into the hall. But it was next to impossible to walk silently on these hard, gleaming crystal floors.

  “Do you know your way around this place?” Eva whispered to me.

  “I remember something of the layout of the palace from when Ursuline took me here as a child, but we only saw the public places. I don’t know where she’s hiding the children.” My optimism flagged. How were we ever going to find them?

  “I’m assuming the Queen’s dungeons must be at the lowest level of the palace, underground,” I added. “It’s too transparent up here.” I gestured to the crystal walls of the tower that were flooding in rainbow-­tinted light all around us. “When Obadiah talked about the dungeon, he described it as being really dark, so that must mean . . .”

  Eva interrupted me.

  “You miss him, don’t you?”

  I stopped in midstride, the awful lump growing in my throat again. I tried to fight it, but it wasn’t worth pretending to Eva. She saw right through me.

  “I shouldn’t miss him,” I said. “I should be mad at him. I mean, he just left me.”

  But I didn’t feel mad. I only felt hurt.

  “I’m sorry,” said Eva, reaching out to me.

  Her sympathy was going to make me cry. I couldn’t afford to go there. I had to concentrate on the task at hand. If we didn’t get out of here soon, my mother would find us.

  “I can’t think about him right now,” I said. “We have to get out of public view. Someone could come along any moment and see us.”

  Eva nodded and backed off. She understood.

  We tiptoed over to the enormous spiral staircase cut out of gleaming crystal that connected the various levels of the tower.

  The very steps themselves were transparent—­if we took the main stairs we were sure to be seen. I knew there had to be a back way—­the palace was probably crawling with secret passageways. But I didn’t know where any of them were.

  I wanted to kick myself, wishing I had a better plan. The chances of us making it down to the dungeon without being seen were almost nil. I should just abandon this mission, bring Eva back to the safety of the cocoon and try again when I had more information.

  “Come on, this was a stupid idea,” I whispered. “Let’s go back.”

  “But . . .”

  “Someone is going to see us! Everything is made out of crystal!”

  “Well, not everything.”

  She pointed to enormous column that the spiral staircase wound around. The stairs were see-­through, but the column was solid.

  “You don’t think that . . . ?”

  “It seems unusually wide, no?”

  She tapped on the column.

  “Eva, they’re going to hear you!” I whispered tensely.

  “But listen to that, it’s hollow. What if there’s an inner set of stairs?”

  It would be a way for the Queen or her minions to get from level to level without being noticed. But where was the opening?

  There was no sign of a door. I ran my hand over the cold, sleek surface, but I couldn’t feel any cracks. We were getting nowhere. In frustration, I smacked the column with the heel of my hand. Instantly I regretted it. I’d been louder than Eva’s tap. The Queen might have heard it or felt the reverberation in her room. I winced and drew back my hand as I heard a crunching sound from the column. Why had I been such an idiot?

  And then Eva gasped.

  There was a crack growing in the stone. It extended in both directions from where my hand had hit and was running up the column, forming a low arch. But it wasn’t a crack; it was a door, separating from the rock. Eva squeezed my hand. That one little smack was all that was needed.

  I pushed the secret door and we entered, shoving it closed behind us. We heard a little snick, which must have been the door sealing shut. Fear sloshed in the pit of my stomach; I hoped we could get it open again. But it was too late to think about that right now. The door had shut behind us, and now we were on the other side, holding hands in total darkness.

  Chapter 21

  My eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness. There was a single Perpetual Candle bolted to the rock wall, and by its faint beams I could make out a rough-­hewn stairway leading down into the darkness. This was definitely some kind of passageway. There was no guarantee the Queen or someone else wouldn’t enter it, the same way we had, and find us—­but surely it would get less foot traffic than the main stairs. We were safer here.

  We started to descend, walking carefully down the uneven steps. Every ­couple of yards along the rock wall there was another Perpetual Candle mounted in the stone, but their lights were so tiny compared to the overwhelming dimness. In what little we could see around the candles, the walls of the passage were made of roughly honed rock, not crystal. I could see subtle glitters of quartz in it, but it had never been polished like the walls of the palace. Whoever had built this passage obviously wasn’t concerned about making it pretty.

  Eva and I were both quiet, the only sound the tromping of our feet, echoing, as we made our way down the stairs. I didn’t want to break the silence and Eva seemed like she didn’t either. Probably because we were both scared and trying to look brave for each other.

  We were slowly corkscrewing our way down, closer to the earth. The Perpetual Candles got further apart the farther we went, making the huge patches of darkness in between even more intimidating. Going from light to light was like leaping from stone to stone, crossing a deep river of dark. When we left the safety of one light, we could only hope we made it to the next one.

  At last we reached the base of the stairs. There was no way to tell exactly how far down we were, without windows, but I began to sense that we’d passed the crystal levels of the palace and were now underground.

  The air was cool, like in a cave, but had a stuffy, musty smell. This place desperately needed fresh air and sunlight, but it was never going to get any. A passage descended from where the stairs ended, the ceiling low, the air still and dead, like a tomb. And all I could think, with a sick, miserable feeling in my gut as I walked, was, My Shadow lives down here.

  When I reached out my hand to touch one of the walls, it had a film of moisture on it, like a frog’s skin. I shuddered.

  Eva touched my shoulder reassuringly. I smiled, though I didn’t know if she could see it in the dark. In truth I should be the one reassuring her. She was trying so hard to be brave for me, but I could tell she was ill at ease down here.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I whispered to her. “You can stay at the entrance and help me once I’ve smuggled my Shadow out.”

  But Eva shook her head.

  We kept walking through the low passageway. I felt faint in the stale air. A thought kept poking at me as we walked: Obadiah was a captive down here. No
wonder he didn’t want to come back. Maybe he really had wanted to help me find my Shadow—­but did he want it enough to come back to this place and relive his old memories of captivity? If he didn’t, I couldn’t blame him. But if that was it, why hadn’t he just told me? I would have understood—­but he hadn’t given me the chance.

  I didn’t need his help to find my Shadow, I told myself. I was the one who put her in this mess, and I needed to get her out. True, it was actually the Queen who put her in this mess. Still, if it hadn’t been for me—­she never would have become a Shadow in the first place. I had to make it right. And I had to try to help the other children, if I could.

  I looked at Eva, treading boldly on. She was viewing this as some kind of great adventure, but I could hear her breath coming faster and faster. She was scared too. I still wondered if I had been right to wake her up. What if something happened to her down here? It was my job to keep her safe in the Vale. But Eva had begged to see this place. Looking at her wide-­eyed amazement at everything she’d seen so far in the Vale, I had to agree with Obadiah—­it was worth the risk to give humans a taste of magic. They deserved it.

  There was a fork in the passage, one side going up and the other going down. Aside from the slope, they were identical.

  Eva and I exchanged glances.

  “Do you know which way?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  Now I really wished Obadiah was here. He would have known where to go. He could have given me some guidance. I couldn’t help but be pissed at him; he had just abandoned me here. I didn’t even know how to get back to New York City.

  “The low one, I guess?” I said. “I figure the dungeon would be in the lowest part, don’t you think? Maybe the high one goes back to the outside?”

  It seemed logical, but I was making this up, and we both knew it. Still, Eva nodded. She trusted me. I wasn’t sure I deserved her trust.

  We took the low road.

  We’d been walking for what seemed like a long time, and my feet were beginning to ache when Eva spoke up.