The Potion Diaries

by Amy Alward

  ‘The diary was kept inside a sealed stone chamber that the lava didn’t penetrate. In fact, we believe it had already been buried at the time of the eruption.’

  ‘Why would that be?’ I ask.

  But Dai continues walking without answering my question. Zain and I exchange a look as we follow him through the maze.

  We stop in front of a glass case that is much more heavily guarded than the others. I can spot thin, wavering red lines indicating motion sensors and there are cameras pointed in our direction too. I would bet the rest of my Wilde Hunt earnings that there are magical forms of protection that I can’t see.

  Zain asks the question on my lips. ‘What’s with the heavy security here?’

  Dai’s face darkens. ‘A few months ago, when the discovery was first announced, we had a flurry of activity in the village – publicity for the dig, but also lots of Finders and alchemists – some with good intentions, only interested in the history, and some no better than treasure hunters, trying to see what they could pillage to sell on the black market. On the day we found the diary, someone tried to steal it. They didn’t succeed – but they did manage to vandalise it. They stole one of the pages.’

  ‘You’re kidding!’ I gasp. I can’t believe anyone would do that to an ancient book.

  ‘I’m afraid not. That’s why you can see it through the glass, but no closer.’

  I try to conceal the disappointment on my face. I would love to be able to touch the diary – almost like reaching back in time and bringing history back to life.

  ‘He was the last Kemi Waidan of the Jing monastery,’ says Dai.

  I nod. It’s one of the reasons that my ancestors moved to Nova. Our family wanted to establish our own brand of alchemy, not be forced to give up our name.

  I dig my potion diary out of my satchel, gripping its buttery soft leather cover. I place it on the shelf, right next to the case where Tao Kemi’s is kept. Then I take a step back as a swell of pride washes over me. This is a moment I didn’t know I had been waiting for. A connection to a past I knew too little about. Now, I feel parched – my thirst for knowledge only partially quenched. There is so much reading to do in the world. I want to absorb it all.

  A tear rolls down my cheek as I feel the weight of all those diaries. And mine, so small and thin beside them. It doesn’t yet deserve to be there. I need to earn my place on that shelf. I take my diary back and put it back in my bag, where it belongs.

  ‘Cut!’ says Daphne. ‘That was fantastic, Sam. A real emotional moment and a perfect closer to episode one. More of those please!’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Samantha

  ‘MISS KEMI?’ THE WAIDAN’S VOICE echoes across the library. ‘I’m ready for you now.’

  I nod. Just as I turn to leave, Zain grabs my hand. ‘Will you tell me what happens?’

  ‘I’ll fill you in as much as I can. I promise.’ I can feel Trina’s eyes following my every move, and I nod to her as well.

  He hesitates, keeping his grip on my hand. But then he lets me go. ‘I trust you,’ he says.

  ‘Sorry, but this can’t be part of the docucast,’ I say to Daphne. I take the microphone off my collar and pass it over to Trina. In a way, I wish we could film what’s going to happen next. This is part of my story – but for now, it will have to be a secret part. I don’t want any unnecessary rumours circulating about the Princess before I really know what’s going on.

  Daphne frowns but I don’t give her room to protest. She seems to think better of it and waves her arms back towards the laboratory. ‘Let’s get some more shots of Zain in action,’ she says, back to directing already.

  Meanwhile, I make my way to the Waidan, with Mei following close behind. We pass by a greenhouse stocked with ingredients and I make a mental note to head back there later to see what they are growing. We seem to be in a more administrative part of the building, with doors leading to small offices. We stop outside a room marked WAIDAN.

  No sooner am I through the door than Mei grabs my arms behind my back and pins me down on the floor before I can muster up any sort of resistance. I turn my head to the side just in time to avoid bashing my chin against the floor, and I end up with my cheek against the rough carpet instead.

  ‘Are you working for him?’ the Waidan demands. All I can see are the embroidered toes of his traditional silk slippers.

  I try to get up but Mei’s knee digs into my back. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask through gasping breaths, wincing against the pain.

  ‘Tell us – are you working for Prince Stefan?’

  ‘Prince Stefan? No! I hate him. I just want to know if my friend . . . if the Princess is in trouble.’

  ‘Are you here to steal secrets from the Jing monastery?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Would you take a truth potion to swear it?’

  ‘Of course!’

  There are several heartbeats of silence before I seem to pass their test. The pressure on my spine releases and my arms are no longer being pulled from their sockets. ‘Let her go,’ says the Waidan, finally. ‘I believe her.’ Mei lets my hands drop to the floor.

  I creak to my feet, my blood boiling. Heat rises in my cheeks – especially the one that was scraped on the floor. I press my palm against it. ‘Is this how you treat fellow alchemists? My grandad would be outraged!’

  ‘I apologise, but I could not chance that you would try to escape,’ says the Waidan, his eyes dark. He leans back against his desk, suddenly looking as old – if not older – than my grandad. His face is lined with worry and even his robe seems to hang limply around his thin frame. ‘And it was a fellow alchemist who started this trouble in the first place.’

  I blink back tears from the shock and pain. ‘What do you mean?’

  It’s Mei who answers. ‘It was an alchemist who stole the page out of Tao Kemi’s diary that Dai was telling you about. We managed to stop them before they could take the whole thing, but . . .’

  ‘They got what they needed,’ finished the Waidan.

  ‘Yes. We suspected the thief was in the employ of Prince Stefan of Gergon based on their style of dress. That is why we had to make sure you were not working for him. He is, after all, now a member of the Novaen Royal family,’ continues Mei.

  ‘I can promise you I only want to find out what is wrong with the Princess – and if the spread in Gergon is an indication of how contagious it is, then all of Nova could be in danger. What page was stolen?’ I ask.

  ‘That’s the problem,’ says the Waidan. ‘We don’t know exactly. We’ve only been able to read the pages following, which list some of the side effects of a virus – and it’s the same symptoms that you’ve described: coughing, weakness and a drain of power in the Talenteds. We believe they must have stolen the recipe that unleashed this virus. I’ve been monitoring the news and online chatter to see if there was any sign that an illness with similar symptoms had taken hold. We sent messages to Gergon but weren’t able to find out if they had been affected. When you called about the Princess’s symptoms, I feared the worst . . . that maybe it has spread to Nova.’

  ‘What could the virus be?’ I ask, but my voice rises barely above a whisper.

  ‘Now that you’re here, you might be able to help answer that question,’ says the Waidan.

  I rub the joint where my arm meets my shoulder. It’s still sore. ‘That’s if I want to,’ I grumble.

  ‘But you must – for your Princess,’ says Mei.

  ‘Yes, I know!’ I snap back. ‘I’m just not feeling too helpful right now.’

  The Waidan ignores my outburst and sits down behind his desk, lacing his fingers underneath his chin. ‘Tao Kemi was a very secretive man – we know that from other primary source material we have found at the site. But from our investigations, we have reason to believe he left the story of the illness behind, in the same chamber as we found the diary. Tomorrow, we will take you there.’

  I shake my head. ‘No.’

  ‘But—’ />
  I lift my eyes to meet the Waidan’s, not letting him finish his sentence. ‘No, I won’t wait until tomorrow. I’m here. I want to go now.’

  He stares back at me with equal intensity and I don’t back down. Unease slithers in my stomach and I feel like I’m being disrespectful, but if Princess Evelyn is infected with a deadly virus then I can’t wait another second. After what feels like an eternity, he nods. ‘Mei, get the car.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Samantha

  ‘WAIT!’

  I halt, one leg already halfway into the back seat. Trina is flying out of the door of the laboratory towards me. She skids to a stop by the car and puts her hand on the door, preventing me from closing it.

  ‘If you’re going somewhere, let me come with you. If it’s to do with the Princess, I want to help. Please.’

  Her eyes are wild with determination, but I don’t give my answer a second thought. ‘Of course, come on.’ I slide across the seat. Having a former Palace bodyguard along can’t be a bad thing – my bruised cheek is a reminder of that. And I can trust Trina. Anyone who cares so deeply about Princess Evelyn won’t betray her.

  Mei is in the driver’s seat and she looks back at us. ‘No Talenteds allowed. Magic behaves strangely in the Wilds and we can’t take the risk—’

  ‘She’s not Talented. She’s coming with us.’

  ‘Let her come,’ says the Waidan from next to Mei. Trina pulls the back door shut and with a screech of tyres we drive off.

  ‘Where are Daphne and Zain?’ I ask Trina. I feel a twinge of guilt at leaving Zain behind, but Daphne will complicate things. I can’t trust her.

  ‘They were filming some one-on-ones. I saw you heading to the car and sprinted to catch up with you. I’m not here for the documentary. I’m here to help you. And wow – it looks like you need it.’ She reaches up and touches the sore spot on my cheek. Trina rounds on the Waidan. ‘What did you do?’

  I put my hand on Trina’s arm. ‘It’s okay. I’m not hurt.’

  ‘This woman is not part of the documentary team, is she?’ asks the Waidan.

  ‘She is but also . . . not.’ I struggle to explain.

  ‘I was part of Princess Evelyn’s ordinary security team,’ says Trina, her chin jutting forward.

  ‘Ordinary security?’ I ask. I’ve never heard it described that way.

  ‘Her computer systems. The Princess has all the magic power she could ever want, so she doesn’t exactly need bodyguards for physical protection. But from technological intrusion, hack-prevention of her devices, that sort of thing, she still needs help. That’s how we met in the first place. She wanted assistance setting up a private Connect page so that she could be in touch with her friends . . . like you and Zain.’

  ‘I always wondered how she pulled that off,’ I say. I’m touched that Evie would do all that for me. I shouldn’t have doubted that our friendship was real.

  ‘Gradually it was our connection that grew. I knew that the Princess and I, our . . . we . . . were a long shot. But I never trusted that slimy Prince. You seemed to be the only person in all of Nova that was speaking any sense about him.’ She leans in close, so that she’s talking only to me. ‘They fired me before I could really get a sense of anything happening in the Palace. I don’t know if the Princess is the only one affected, or if what she has has spread to the rest of the Royal family. There’s no way for me to check. But I was keeping tabs on your television appearances, your social media and what people were saying about you. When I got all these pings through from my notifications in some of the government databases that showed you applying for emergency Wilds passes in Zhonguo, I knew it had to be to do with the Princess. You wouldn’t leave Nova unless it was for a cure. That’s why I had to find a way to come along with you.’

  My eyes open wide. ‘That’s kind of terrifying that you can find out so much from the internet.’

  ‘I’m not being modest when I say I’m the best. Luckily I’d learned some film-making skills at college so I knew I could fake the basics, and with my tech background I can edit video with the best of them. Plus I could hack my CV to make it look really good to Daphne Golden.’

  I nod. ‘This is the most number of words I’ve heard you string together since I met you!’

  She leans back in the seat, finally relaxing her shoulders. ‘I guess I’m more the quiet type.’

  She’s right. Her loosening up from her normally rigid stance makes me smile – and then I feel a pang in my heart as I realise it’s because I miss my friend and Finder, Kirsty. Trina is an iron bar, whereas Kirsty is a whip. One sturdy, the other flexible. Knowing me, I should prefer the sturdy one. But I need Kirsty’s flexibility to make my brain work. That’s why we make such a good partnership. That’s also maybe why Evelyn needs someone like Trina. Trina offers her stability, normality and a sense of comfort in her world that is manic, unique and oddly sheltered.

  ‘That’s probably why she liked you.’ I say the thought out loud. ‘She was always surrounded by so much noise. I saw how you were together, in that Laville Palace room. You kept her calm. You were like . . . her oasis.’

  Trina smiles sadly. ‘Thank you for saying that, Sam.’

  I pull my potion diary out of my bag. I need to be scientific about this. Put my Master Alchemist skills to the test. I open to the pages where I’ve been jotting down everything I know under the heading ‘THE VIRUS’. ‘So, tell me what you saw inside the Palace. How did the Princess act? How did Stefan act towards her?’

  Trina frowns, then closes her eyes as if she is trying to remember. ‘I wasn’t allowed to see much, but the Prince was on the charm-offensive before the wedding day. It was after that that things changed. Once they were married, it’s like he walked around with a dark cloud over his head. And the most strange thing was that he started giving Evelyn some kind of pill each evening.’

  ‘Ah!’ I flip back a few pages, where I’d written about the pill Emilia Thoth had created for Prince Stefan. ‘That would keep her from being contagious for a time, so she could interact with people.’

  ‘That makes sense. But I got notice that the Prince had terminated my contract with the Palace. Well, I say “got notice”, but I showed up for work one day and I wasn’t allowed to Transport up. The coward’s way of saying “you’re fired”.’

  ‘Huh.’ I clench my fingers into fists. I have a few pages of notes but I’m no closer to figuring out what the virus is – or how dangerous it is. I hope there are answers in this village.

  Trina grabs my hand. ‘You are doing more for her than anyone else in Nova. And that’s why my place is by your side.’

  Tears threaten to spring up in my eyes, but I hold them back. I need to be serious. Focused.

  The car climbs higher on a winding road up the volcano’s base, through some sparse forest, the trees struggling to grow on the hard volcanic ground. We pass through a Wilds border, although it’s not manned – the only people who come up to the village, after all, are the Waidan and his approved excavation crew. It’s the only road, so he swipes our passes and a barrier lifts, allowing us to pass through.

  ‘We’re very close now,’ says the Waidan.

  My first thought is that ‘monastery’ is a bit of a misnomer. The place is huge. We enter through a stone gate into what appears to be a circular village – every wall we encounter is curved. As we drive further into the monastery, I get the sense that it is made up of a series of concentric circles, almost like a maze. The low stone buildings are a pale shade of yellow, their walls stretching up towards the open sky. ‘The buildings would have once had roofs,’ says Mei, ‘but they were made of wood and would have disintegrated in the lava flow.’ She parks up in front of one of the buildings, which has a sign taped across it that warns of cavities hidden beneath the floor. It’s written in both Zhonguoan characters and Novaen lettering, which is why it catches my eye.

  ‘This way,’ the Waidan says. ‘I’ve given the excavation crew a couple of days off
, so we have the place to ourselves while we try and solve this mystery.’

  Outside, I shield my eyes with my arm, before digging out my sunglasses. We’ve made it about a quarter of the way up the side of the volcano, and the sun is fiercely bright, especially where it reflects off the light stone.

  There’s a searing heat on my ankle. I scream and jump back, almost knocking into Trina. ‘What is that?’ I cry. In front of me is a lizard – but the lizard is consumed by fire. Its scales are black and red like magma, and it is engulfed in orange-yellow flames.

  The Waidan is around to our side of the car in a flash, brandishing a hemp bag. He takes a handful of powder from the bag and tosses it at the lizard. It lands with a sizzle, and the lizard cools off instantly, turning all-black. It scurries away into a nearby crack in the ground and my breathing levels return to normal.

  ‘Lava lizard,’ says the Waidan. ‘It’s one of a number of rare creatures we discovered here that were either on the endangered list or – in some cases – presumed extinct.’

  ‘Are you kidding me, that was a lava lizard?’

  Lava lizard – creature said to be born of fire itself. A small portion of its tail can keep a fire burning for days or weeks on end.

  ‘And that was a baby one,’ Mei adds.

  I want to kick myself. Lava lizards are such cool creatures – almost like mascots for alchemists – I didn’t think I’d behave like such a baby on seeing one for the first time.

  ‘Oh, don’t fret too much – you were wise to be wary of it. It might be small but its fire burns the same as any other and is fiendishly hard to put out. Watch your step,’ says Mei.

  ‘I will.’

  ‘We have a lot of unusual creatures here – like those lava lizards. Some of the ancient Finders’ logs mention being able to collect phoenix feathers from the summit. So it’s quite possible that a phoenix once lived in the volcano’s caldera – although there hasn’t been a sighting in my time.’