by Gina LaManna
“Lily!” Gus yelled from the front door of the bungalow. “Come inside!”
His voice rang urgently over the shore, and my musing vanished like sand into the waves. He waved at me, gesturing for me to hurry. I moved along the beach and up the stairs to the bungalow, wondering if he’d already forgotten my outburst at Hettie’s.
“I need to show you something,” he declared, the second I reached the front door.
Confused, I scurried inside as Gus peered out after me, making sure nobody had seen us.
The shoreline remained empty.
“If this is about what I said at The Core meeting, well I don’t know that I feel like apologi—”
“No, no, you were right,” Gus said, waving a hand. “We were out of line.”
I gawked. It might have been the first time Gus had ever thought I was right about something. Obviously, whatever he had to show me was more important than our little feud.
He didn’t notice my expression, instead gesturing to the vial and leaning over to examine it with full concentration. “Does this look familiar?”
I leaned in to study the swirling black. “Is that—”
“Yes.”
“I think I have an idea.”
Gus grinned. “I thought you might.”
Chapter 12
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT didn’t work!” I sat back on the workbench while Gus mournfully placed the vial back in a safe place on its shelf. “I was so sure of it.”
Gus paced back and forth, the thunk of his cane punctuating each step. “I’ve read the book backward and forward and can’t think of what else might work.”
Earlier this morning, Gus had pulled out The Magic of Mixology, the ancient manuscript that I had inherited by accepting the role of Mixologist. The book itself was big, hefty, and nearly impossible to memorize. I should know; Gus had made me try.
Gus, however, had it as close to memorized as anyone. Leaning over the table, he licked the tip of his finger and thumbed through a few pages. Then he shook his head and thumbed through a few more. “That was the best Dissolver I’ve ever discovered—I’m sure of it.”
Misery had set into his tone. Gus had discovered an ancient, almost forgotten spell in The Magic of Mixology while I’d been out with Mimsey. Supposedly, this enchantment could make magic vanish without a trace, dissolving spells completely. It was a quick spell, and a dangerous one, but we’d had to take the risk.
The spell had gone off without a hitch… except for one thing.
It hadn’t made a dent in the storm cloud swirling within the vial.
A knock sounded at the front door, prompting a frown from Gus. “Are you expecting company?”
I shook my head. “No, although that’s never stopped guests from coming before.”
Gus hobbled to the door, opened it, and greeted the visitor with a blank stare. “What do you want?”
“Can I speak to Lily?” The voice was higher pitched than expected, and decidedly female. And familiar. “I have some urgent news to deliver.”
“Ainsley!” I scurried around Gus and gave her a hug. Behind her stood Lizzie, who I greeted as well. “What brings you guys here?”
“I heard about the meeting with The…” Ainsley trailed off, and I realized she’d been about to say The Core. But, since Lizzie wasn’t involved, Ainsley stopped. “How did it go?”
I shrugged. “Could’ve gone better.”
Gus scowled in the background. “I’ll say.”
“I’ll get the details later,” Ainsley said hurriedly. “The other reason I came was because I think Lizzie might be able to help.”
Lizzie nodded, smiling as she extended a small pamphlet to me. “I thought you could use this.”
“What is this?” I asked, accepting it. When she didn’t respond, I took a few moments to glance through it, eventually looking up in surprise. “This is the handbook for Wishery magic?”
“Hold on.” Suddenly Gus perked back up and lost his scowl. “Wishery is real?”
Lizzie’s eyes flitted between Ainsley and Gus. “I thought you said it’d be just us, Ainsley. I didn’t bring my NDAs.”
“Gus is the Mixologist’s assistant,” Ainsley explained. “Gus, you can keep a secret, right? Lily, would you agree?”
“Of course. I trust him completely,” I agreed, pretending not to notice as Gus’s face turned a little red before he looked away. “Gus understands magic better than I do. He should hear this, too, if we have any chance of stopping The Faction.”
“That’s impossible,” Gus argued. “Lily understands potions the best—she’s the Mixologist. But I’m second best, without a doubt.”
Lizzie smiled, nodded, and told Gus she was pleased to meet him. Then she tapped the booklet and spoke to me. “This is what we give to all new hires. Keep in mind, our new hire process is incredibly thorough, detailed, and confidential. This booklet doesn’t go to just anyone.”
“I’d say not.” Gus peered over my shoulder, showing more interest than usual in the conversation. “I’ve been in this business all my long life, and I’ve never heard anyone confirm wish magic exists.”
“It’s obviously confidential,” Lizzie said, miffed. “That goes without saying.”
“Obviously,” Gus said. “Speaking of wish magic, I’d just like to apologize for one particular wish I made last week.”
“Yes, I remember.” Lizzie shifted uncomfortably. “You speak of a certain wish involving the painful death of—”
“Yeah, that one.” Gus cut her off. “Didn’t mean it. I was upset.”
Lizzie offered a polite smile. “We looked past that one. Anyway, Lily, take a peek in there and let me know if you have any questions.”
I thumbed through, but the manual was self-explanatory. I closed it before meeting Lizzie’s gaze. “How does one acquire wish magic? Are the new hires born with it? Do they learn it? Is it gifted to them?”
Lizzie smiles. “They wish for it. Before they even know it exists.”
“And according to wish magic rules, if their wish is unharmful, unselfish, and filled with wonder… it might be granted.”
“Exactly. It’s the only way true wish magic can ever be gifted.”
“How old were you when you wished for it?”
“Eleven,” she said. “Of course, I didn’t know wish magic existed. Instead, I had wished for a career that would allow me to make others happy. A few years later, I got called for a job interview at Wishery, and I’ve never looked back in my three hundred years of service.”
Gus flinched outwardly at this. “Three hundred?”
“I age well,” she said with a flicker of a smile. “Anyway, I hope the handbook helps. I don’t know how, but it appears wish magic is essential to The Faction’s plot; otherwise, black magic wouldn’t be haunting our city. Have you any thoughts on how to rid us of it?”
“We thought we were close, just before you arrived,” I said. “The Dissolver didn’t pan out.”
“Lily will pull through,” Gus said sounding more confident than I liked. “She always does.”
“I know,” Lizzie agreed. “Ainsley said the same thing.”
Ainsley winked. “That’s right boss. We have faith in you.”
“I’m not your boss—” I started, but was interrupted by a crackling noise.
“We’re about to get Zapped,” Ainsley said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Duty calls, boss. We’ll see you soon. Get in touch if you need anything.”
Seconds later, they were gone.
“Wish magic,” Gus said. “Who would’ve thought?”
“What I can’t think of is how this handbook is going to help us.”
“Read it. Absorb it. Let the words simmer back here.” Gus tapped my skull. “I’ll keep going through The Magic of Mixology. Something is bound to turn up.”
He hadn’t quite convinced me, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do except get started. We hadn’t worked five minutes before another knock sounded from out
side.
“Your turn to answer,” Gus said.
I pulled myself up, but before I could reach the door, it burst open on its own.
“Sorry.” Hettie stood framed in the doorway with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. She caught sight of Gus. “Oh, good. You’re here, too. That means I only have to apologize once. Are we all good?”
“Apology accepted,” I said. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have walked off like that.”
“Have you come up with a theme for Poppy’s party?” Hettie stepped the rest of the way into the storeroom, closing the discussion.
I quickly slid the Wishery handbook under The Magic of Mixology before nodding in agreement. “I have, but I’m still working on the potion to go along with it.”
“What’s the Mix called this time?”
“Long Isle Iced Tea.”
Hettie clapped. “That is fabulous! Can I try it?”
“Not quite,” I said, flinching. I’d tested the potion on myself and Gus, and while it had worked fine on me, Gus had developed a slight reaction to it. An hour’s worth of painful hiccups. “I’m still working on the final touches.”
“What does it do?”
“When it’s drank, the potion will change its user into the costume most desired.”
“The theme is costume party?!” Hettie’s smile couldn’t grow any brighter. “You’re telling me that if I want to be a princess or a ninja, it’d turn me into a princess or a ninja for the evening? Or better yet… a princess ninja?”
“That’s the goal.”
“What would he turn into?” Hettie asked, nodding toward Gus. “I don’t see him as having much imagination.”
I shrugged in Gus’s direction. “That’s the mystery! We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Oh, Lily, if you weren’t the Mixologist, I’d suggest a career in party planning. This is sure to be the party of the year. At least, until my birthday rolls around.” Hettie shot me a coy glance. “Right?”
“Don’t give up your day job,” Gus murmured to me. “Party planning is overrated. Parties are overrated. Who needs to plan a party? Just show up and eat food.”
“What did you say to X?” Zin asked, flying through the door without warning. She had a finger outstretched and accused each one of us in turn. “Who’s the genius who pissed off my boss?”
Hettie, Gus and I all shared a guilty look.
“Uh,” I started. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid with me. I know someone in this room said something to set him off, and I’ve got a bone to pick with whoever it is.” Zin narrowed her eyes at me. “Was it you?!”
“What are you talking about?”
“He just extended our training an extra two hours per day. I’m already working so much I barely have time to eat or sleep!”
“I’m sorry, Zin,” I said. “We—”
“I love my job,” she interrupted. “But I need a break. Whoever is responsible for X’s rage—fix it.”
“Did he mention what he was mad about?” Hettie asked, too sweetly. “Any hints or names or threats?”
“Does he ever talk to us, except to give us instructions?”
“Fair,” Hettie agreed. “He is that strong and silent type.”
“Maybe so, but I’m not the only Ranger annoyed right now, and that’s saying something. Most of the team thinks X walks on water.”
“Well, I’m not surprised,” Hettie said, admiration on her face. “He is a perfect specimen of man.”
Zin scowled at her until I stepped between them and shook my head at my grandmother.
“Fine, truce,” she agreed, looking past me to Zin. “Let’s put this behind us. Now Lily, where’s the potion for Poppy’s party?”
“It’s not quite ready. I don’t want to risk it—”
“Risk what?” Hettie interrupted.
“A bad reaction. I’m just working out the kinks.”
“What sort of kinks?”
“Minor side effects,” I said, hedging around those painful hiccups Gus had experienced. “I’ve made some adjustments since the last time.”
“What does it do?”
“It’s top secret,” Hettie blurted, before I could explain. “She hasn’t even let me try it.” Picking up the jar of Long Isle Iced Tea, she examined the contents. “I’m dying to taste it.”
“Lily, let me help.” Zin moved another step closer. “I train for things like this; if there’s a side effect, I’ll be able to handle it better than anyone else.”
I took the small glass jar from Hettie and swirled the potion. “I don’t know…”
“Can you reverse it?”
“Of course—I have the antidote ready.”
“Well, what’s the worry then?” Zin pressed. “I have to be at work in an hour. Let me take it quick, you can spot any lingering problem areas, and then reverse it.”
I hesitated still, so Zin reached around me and began pouring the mixture into a chalice embellished with bright amethyst gems. She did have a point; I’d eventually have to test it again before using it on partygoers, and Zin was more durable than most.
“Here’s the antidote.” I held up an even smaller jar filled with a powdery pink substitute, giving her the go ahead. “A pinch of this, and you’ll be right as rain.”
Zin picked up the chalice and took a sniff of the ingredients. “Fruity.” Then, she tipped the potion back and swallowed it in a gulp. “Okay, now what?”
“It shouldn’t take long.” I took the cup from her hands, then waited for the magic to kick in.
Hettie folded her hands and waited patiently, and even Gus looked up from his ancient book of spells.
“I can feel it,” Zin said. “It’s tingly, and it’s making me warm, and…oomph.”
Zin bent in half like she’d been hit by a sack of bricks. Her dark bob flew forward and spread over her face, and her all-black attire began to lighten in color and shift in size.
Her clothing then morphed completely, her hair lengthening and knotting above her head. Her pants reached a shade of snow-white before continuing toward pink, eventually shriveling at the ankles, the calves, the thighs, until the material dissolved into a pair of tights complete with a puffy little skirt.
When she looked up, all her dark eyeliner was gone, her thick black lashes slimmed into dainty little things. Blush lightened her face, and a pinch of glitter had worked its way into the bun on her head.
Zin had become the perfect little ballerina, ballet shoes and all.
“Oh, how cute,” Hettie said. “She’s adorable!”
“What is this?!” Zin screeched indignantly, scanning her tight-covered legs and the slippers on her feet. Her leotard had tiny little straps and a curvy neckline entirely unlike Zin’s style. “Why am I dressed like a ballerina?”
“You look gorgeous!” Hettie declared. “I always told your mother she should put you in dance. I knew you would’ve been a star.”
“Surprise!” I waved my fingers. “Costume party.”
“So, the theme to the party is costumes,” Zin figured. “Are they random?”
“Even better,” Hettie said with a wink. “It changes the user into the costume they most desire!”
“But I don’t desire to be a ballerina.” Zin stuttered, her hands too busy playing with the tulle around her waist to sound convincing. “I want to be—”
“We know, we know,” Hettie said. “You want to be all badass and dark and mysterious. I sort of thought you’d turn into Ranger X.”
Gus grunted in agreement.
“On the positive,” Hettie continued, “it doesn’t look like there are any side effects this time around. Except for Zin’s embarrassment.”
“Good call on the stabilizer, Lily,” Gus said. “Worked like a charm.”
“Right. Well, this has been a good laugh for you all, but I have to get ready for work,” Zin said. “I have to report for duty in thirty minutes, and I have errands to run first.”
&n
bsp; I extended the vial of pink powder toward Zin. “One pinch and you’ll be good as new.”
Hettie sighed as Zin ingested the antidote. “This is going to be a great party. I can’t wait to see my costume. And Gus’s. And Ranger X.”
“Why am I not changing?” Zin looked down, her tutu still completely pink. “I don’t feel anything.”
“Give it a few minutes,” I said. “It’s a pretty big reversal.”
However, five minutes later when there were still no signs of Zin changing back to her former attire, I began to worry. And work—double-checking my formulas and math and Mixology.
Ten minutes more, and Gus dived in, too. Together, we analyzed every inch of the antidote while Zin tapped her foot in annoyance.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let you bait me into trying the potion.” Zin looked between Gus and myself. “Well? Gus doesn’t look happy. Why doesn’t he look happy?”
“The stabilizer you added?” Gus mumbled to me, a hint of sheepishness on his face, “I think it had a reaction with the sweetener.”
I grabbed The Magic of Mixology and pulled the ancient text toward me. Thumbing through the pages, I flicked over the spell in my head until it hit me. “Oh, no. It cancels the effect of the silver.”
Gus held up his finger like a lightbulb. “Correct.”
“I should’ve caught that. It makes the antidote useless.”
“Should’ve caught that? Yes! Yes, you should have.” Zin threw a hand in the air. “Now what am I supposed to do? I have no extra clothes with me. My old ones are… where are they, Lily? Incinerated? I have to be at work in under ten minutes.”
“Sorry,” I said, flinching. “Really sorry, Zin.”
“This is a mess. You’re all a mess.” Zin glared at her grandmother. “I came here to yell at you, and I should’ve done that and left.”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Hettie chirped. “There’s no need to be so upset with Lily when you volunteered for the job. Nobody’s saying you can’t go to work dressed like a ballerina.”