by Gina LaManna
I swallowed.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” Gus’s voice softened in reverence. “It’s brilliant, Lily.”
“What is this?” I nodded toward the lab. “Why are they trying to recreate it? I would’ve helped. I would have explained it to you, Gus, you have to believe me. I’d only just figured it out—I didn’t even have time to make a batch large enough for more than one person.”
“I know that.”
“Well?”
“Well, I’d already pieced together the necessary ingredients, and I had just the smallest of starter batches left in the vial. From there, I brought the sample and the ingredients to the lab once I realized something had happened to you.”
“Why?”
“The Puppeteer is one of the strongest forces on this island, and if she’d taken you out already. . . ” Gus stubbed his toe against the floor. “There was no help for the rest of us.”
“That’s not true—”
“If she wanted to take over The Isle and you hadn’t stopped her, she might very well have done so. Unless. . . ”
“Unless you had a potion that made her magic useless,” I finished. “You got Jinx & Tonic brewing in case neither of us came back.”
“I left them instructions to use it only in the direst of circumstances,” Gus said. “After all, it wouldn’t have been tested. But if something happened to both of us in The Forest, it would’ve been better than nothing. I sent instructions for a large batch to be made. Then I gathered Harpin and your grandmother, and we went after you. From there, you know the rest.”
“May I?” I pointed toward the potion.
“I hoped you would ask.” Gus knocked on the door to the lab. “We have a use for it still, you know. With your approval.”
“What sort of use?”
Gus didn’t respond because a man in a white coat who resembled a mouse with his pointed nose, sharp widow’s peak, and shiny little eyes behind circular spectacles, showed up at the door.
“Yes?” He looked at Gus first, then to me. “Ah, the Mixologist. Do come in, Miss Locke.”
“Lily,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand. “How is everything going?”
“We believe the batch is ready to go. It’s been brewed precisely to Gus’s instructions, and it appears to match the sample sent with it.”
“May I?”
“Our lab is always open to the Mixologist.” The scientist bowed his head, backed away. “You can find both samples to your right.”
I moved to the place he recommended. Two samples sat before me. One of them was hardly more than a few drops on a tiny, rounded plate, while the other, larger sample, bubbled in a beaker.
I first inhaled it, the lily of the valley scent potent, strong against the otherwise sterile air of the lab. “How much silver did you use?”
The scientist rattled of his ingredients list without notes, his detail exact to the last measurement. “Even so, we couldn’t have made the potion ourselves,” he clarified. “Not without your starter batch. Without your Mix, ours would be nothing but a pile of herbs and ingredients. The silver shouldn’t even blend with the rest of the potion.” His voice increased with excitement. “It’s amazing, really—whatever you’ve done here, I’ve never seen it before. When we Mix the potion with your starter batch, the magic you created bleeds into our supply.”
“So you can use a starter batch to make more, but you can’t create it from scratch?”
“Nobody can create it from scratch except you,” he confirmed. “Which is why I’d like to request a larger original batch from you at your convenience. To keep with all of the other Mixologist potion starters.”
I followed his pointed finger to a large, sturdy-looking door. “What’s in there?”
“Show her,” Gus instructed.
The scientist paused for only a second before agreeing. “Just one moment, it requires special permissions.”
A few minutes later a shorter, mousier-looking man with even larger glasses and an even larger white coat appeared. “Hello, Miss Locke—”
“Lily,” I corrected as I shook his hand.
“I’m Herman Mort, and I run the lab.” He blinked rapidly. “You’d like to see inside the Mixologists’ vault?”
“Yes,” Gus said. “First time for her.”
“It’s overdue, I suppose.” Herman pulled out a key as long as his forefinger and inserted it into a huge lock on the door. He twisted it, a loud click sounded, and then we were inside. “Look around, Miss Locke, but please do not touch.”
I began to correct him again and insist he call me Lily, but when the door swung open, I lost interest in what he called me. The lab’s vault was a huge refrigerator, as long as a hallway and as wide as a city block. It was completely black inside, save for individual spotlights along the wall. Each light was situated under a jar that had been meticulously labeled with the name of a potion.
“There are lots of legacies in here,” Herman said, his voice thin, cutting like a knife through the darkness. “The potions here are. . . they’re irreplaceable. The hexes guarding this vault are some of the strongest we have on the island.”
I turned to face Herman. “What are these?”
Along either side of the black walls sat one shelf. It reminded me of a museum—each potion a piece of artwork to be displayed.
“Similar to Jinx & Tonic, there have been potions created in the past that take a Mixologist’s touch in order to work. We keep the starter batch here. We can often expand on these potions, but once the last drop of the starter is used. . . ”
“The potion will cease to exist,” I said. “Unless another Mixologist can create it.”
“Which is why we cherish this room, and we open it only in cases of need.” Herman turned to me, pushing his glasses up onto his nose. “Miss Locke, I’d like to put in a formal request to add Jinx & Tonic to the vault.” His fingers danced over an open space near the front. On the wooden shelf, there was an empty space. A lamp had already been placed above it, the light shining onto a blank plaque.
“Of course.” This vault had the air of a church; old, precious. . . somber, even. Like an ancient city that, if destroyed by war or natural disaster, could never be recreated. “I’d be honored.”
Gus and Herman nodded, then stood still as I made my way through the rest of the hallway. I stopped to read a few of the potions along the way. There was a batch for the Elixir, a potion that stole one’s soul in exchange for extra time after one’s death. I continued walking, walking, until I found it. The potion I’d been seeking.
I raised a hand, running my fingers along the edges of the wood. I left the beaker untouched, the light shining into the bright, blood red liquid. Vampire Vitamins, the sign read, followed by a list of ingredients used to meet Poppy’s nutritional needs. But it was the name underneath that caught my attention. Harvey. My grandfather.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. He’d created this, molded the potion from his very own hands. I bowed my head and closed my eyes, letting the sensation of closeness wash over my shoulders. Even though he was gone, even though there was no chance of us ever meeting, I finally felt a kinship with him.
I felt close to the man who’d held the position before me—the man from whom I so desperately wanted advice, encouragement, and wisdom. I was afraid to walk this journey alone, to uncover my role of Mixologist without the guiding hand of someone who’d experienced the trials, the decisions, the horrors before me.
After a long while, so long I lost track of time, Gus cleared his throat. “It’s time to go, Lily. Ranger X will be waking up soon, and I imagine you want to get back before then.”
His implied meaning—that we must get to the jail quickly—was not lost on me. I looked at the blood red potion one last time, brushed my fingers over my grandfather’s name, and then followed Herman from the vault.
“It’s good,” I told him. “Your potion will work.”
To my surprise, Gus reached out a hand and s
hook Herman’s. “She’s approved it. Send it now.”
“Send what? Where?” I looked between them. “Gus?”
“Better to show you,” Gus said. “We have forty minutes. Will that be enough time, Herman?”
“It’ll be ready in five minutes.”
CHAPTER 39
We took an elevator down for what felt like an eternity. The doors finally opened to reveal a long passageway flanked by guards. Gus and I were frisked by three different Rangers at three different stopping points in what served as the lobby for the jail—not the normal island jail, but the maximum-security cells dug far beneath the ground at Ranger HQ.
“A little much, don’t you think?” I mumbled, brushing off my clothes. I straightened my shirt and waited for Gus.
It took him an additional minute to retrieve his cane, which had been all but torn apart by security. “I’m walking through naked next time to spare them the hassle of undressing me,” he growled. “I don’t have a secret left in me.”
“Is it always so intense?”
“I can’t imagine an escaped prisoner looks good on their track record.” All humor left Gus’s face. “They’ll be on high alert forever. I imagine X wasn’t thrilled when The Puppeteer escaped, and they’re trying to make up for it.”
“And now she’s back,” I said.
“And now she’s back.”
We took a few steps forward, the dampness settling in around us. Torches lined the roughly cut walls. We were deep underground and even though the rock around us was solid, the sensation of being under hundreds of tons of dirt was suffocating.
Rocks paved the way ahead. The stone, naturally an off-white color, was now marred by dirt and debris. I sidestepped a stain on the ground that turned my stomach. Unlike the pristine nature of the rest of Ranger HQ, this place was dark, dank, and reserved for only the worst criminals.
“You never asked me why I wanted to come here,” I said to Gus, the tap of his cane swallowed by the oppressive, stale air. “To visit her.”
“No, I didn’t,” Gus said.
We continued walking for quite some time. Something small and furry skittered through the hall and sent my pulse skyrocketing. Eventually, Gus inhaled a breath. Before us, a dull glow lit the path though the source of the light was hidden behind a curve.
“You don’t have to come,” I said, eyeing the twisty passage before us.
We were getting close. The temperature dropped, the pressure rose, and all signs of life faded away.
“Neither do you,” Gus said.
Together, we rounded the bend. My heart thudded, my ribs nearly cracking from the intensity. There, before us, sat a cage. Thick, steel bars formed a square, the inside of which was dark, musty, and seemingly empty.
Around it was a cavern with high, rocky ceilings and an echo for every breath. The faint outline of crystals shone from the ceiling, affixed there to dampen the effects of spells.
Another set of pillars stood beyond the steel bars of the cage. These, however, were made from glass. It was inside these glass tubes from which the source of light radiated outward. Liquid bubbled, coursed through the pillars, sending a glow through the underground.
“Is that—”
“Jinx & Tonic,” Gus cut in. “Do you think it’ll work?”
I took a step forward, admiring the handiwork. Before I could comment, however, a raspy wave of laughter came from the darkest corner of the cage.
I waited until my eyes adjusted to the darkness before I cleared my throat and spoke to Gus. “You’re hoping that having the antidote surrounding the cell will prevent her from using blood magic?”
“Yes.”
“It’ll help, but I wouldn’t count on it working completely.” I kept my chin up, ignoring the sounds of hysterical laughter now coming from the cage. “Tell Herman to add wax to the potion and a wick. Light a candle in here; that will help. Anyone who enters will inhale bits of the potion and it will add a layer of protection.”
“She’ll inhale it, too,” Gus said.
“Good.”
Gus bowed his head. “Consider it done.”
“May I have a moment alone with her?”
He hesitated, the sound of shrieking growing louder by the second. “Lily—”
“Please.”
He raised a hand, scratched his head, and shrunk away. “I’ll be right around the corner if you need anything.”
Once Gus had gone, I waited until Ilinia’s laughter faded to a gasping noise, her voice shredded to bits. From the glow of the potion, I could make out her stringy hair, her waspish figure. A ghost of the woman who’d stood above us in her emerald dress, powerful and strong. Now, she was broken, vacant looking. The misery was gone from her eyes, replaced by a sharp glint of hate.
“Welcome to my home,” Ilinia said, crawling forward into the light. Her skin was pale, so very pale that the tiny veins in her arms shone blue through it. “Pleasant, isn’t it?”
“Why did you wait so long to escape?” I stepped closer to her, refusing to be intimidated. “You used blood magic to get out of here; there was no defense for it until now. Why sit in here for all those years?”
She moved closer, her motions like a snake. When she reached the edge of the cage nearest me, she stopped. Her beauty had morphed into something so terrible I could hardly bear to look into her eyes—at the same time, I couldn’t look away.
“You needed a partner,” I answered for her. “Once you had things set up with Dillan, that’s when you made your move. This whole time you were planning. But why?”
Ilinia smoothed her dress, eyed me with curiosity. “You really don’t understand do you? The thrill of control. Of royalty. Of being the most powerful person in this realm just because you can.”
“Is it worth all of the effort and deception and lies? You spent years in prison over this when instead, you could’ve been happily married to Liam.”
Her lips turned into a pout. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. You see, my grandmother was the Queen of the Sea. She was the last great ruler of the water. She made sacrifices, and so must I. She changed for the sake of power. She made the transition from mermaid to human. In comparison, my sacrifice of a happy life with Liam is nothing. If only my mother hadn’t ruined our momentum, we would’ve succeeded by now.”
“How did she ruin everything?”
She laughed, the sound grating on my ears. “My mother was a flimsy excuse for a person. She didn’t have a streak of ambition in her. My grandmother took the burden of changing from mermaid to human for the sake of power. Do you know how difficult that process is?”
I shook my head.
“Similar to a vampire changing a human.” A smirk turned her lips upward. “Many times, the human dies before they change. The same goes with mermaids. My grandmother though, she survived. She was strong. There is only so much life to conquer in the sea, you know. My grandmother ruled it all; she wanted to expand, to take the land. But she needed her daughter’s help. It was more than one lifetime of work.”
“But your mother didn’t want to give it to her.”
“No, she wanted a boring life, to marry and live happily ever after.” Ilinia shook her head. “Quite tragic. My grandmother died, and so did my mother. Age catches up to even the strongest of us. The burden falls to my shoulders—the weight of our family’s legacy. I’d do anything for her, for me. For my heritage.”
“You don’t have to do any of this! Your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
Ilinia’s face darkened. “Shut up about her. She never liked me, said I was bad from the moment I was born.”
I didn’t respond, I couldn’t.
“How do you think that feels? Your own mother saying she wished you’d never been born. She said I was too much like my grandmother, but little did she know, I took that as a compliment. I am just like my grandmother. I am strong, and I will rule this island someday, just like she wanted. I’ll fulfill my family’s legacy.”
“But—”
“It would’ve all worked out perfectly. You and your friends wouldn’t have been alive to deny my story, and the loss of Dillan would have been sung as a tragedy. He would’ve died a Faction hero, and I would’ve gotten my island. Everyone would’ve won. Shame you spoiled it.”
“What about—”
“You’ll go back to it, you know.” She looked through the bars, her face changing. Her laughter faded into silence and her breathing sounded painful. All the while, her eyes gleamed, her lips forming a thin barrier, barbed with the secrets she held inside. “You won’t be able to resist it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The power. You tasted it, didn’t you?”
My blood boiled, the rush of anger so intense my mind spiraled out of control. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” She hissed. “The scent of power, of control. . . you’ve inhaled it. You love it, just as much as I do—I can see it in your eyes. You’ll always be different now, Lily. There’s no coming back from the edge.”
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t push away the image of me on the cliff, twisting Ilinia with my power. She had been mine. My vision began to blur, the memory almost overtaking me. I collapsed to my knees, the taste of honey-sweet power cut with the burn of whiskey. Sweet and powerful, and. . .
“Lily.” Ranger X’s voice rocked me from the haze as his hand came to rest on my shoulder. He shook me until I stood. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Trembling, I brought myself to my feet. Hatred spiraled with shame, and I couldn’t look at either X or Ilinia.
“You know it, don’t you—pretty girl, you’ll be just like me!” Ilinia murmured through the bars. “You and I will work together someday, just you wait.”
My flash of rage sent all rational thought from my head as I tore at the cell. Ranger X held me back, his hands steady on my waist.