by Gina LaManna
Warmth. I pressed my fingers to the rock, and though a slight tingle shot through my hand, rolling up and over my arms, into my shoulders, and down my back, there was no sign of the shock Zin had described.
Something was at work. I could feel it, sense it.
My hand locked in place with a jolt. When I tried to tug my arm away, I couldn’t. Something deep within the rock slid, stuttered, adjusted. I could feel movement there, like gears churning and bolts flipping into place.
All at once, my hand freed itself from the rock, repelled as if by a magnet. I backed away and watched as the door began to slide open. With a gravelly crunch, the safe revealed its contents. A scroll lay on top of a stand, and on the scroll someone had printed another map.
This map had been created with every detail listed on it—much more detailed than the back of the envelope drawing that had gotten us here. Furthermore, it contained elements that extended far beyond The Isle.
As I studied the map, my eyes were drawn to a blinking red light. The glowing dot began to move as I watched, beginning its projector here on the island, then dotting its way across Lake Superior, onto the shore of the mainland.
With curiosity, I watched as it pulsed once, then a second time, just outside of the Twin Cities. I squinted closer, realizing it was just outside the headquarters of MAGIC, Inc.
The dot didn’t stop there. After pulsing twice, it slid a little further south, and then stopped entirely and blinked green.
“What is this?” I murmured, wishing I’d listened more closely to Peter. “Where are you taking us?”
“What’s going on, Lily?” Zin called.
“It opened! It’s some sort of map. I don’t know what it means,” I yelled up. “There’s a blinking light, and—”
“What color?” she asked sharply. “Did it move after you started looking?”
“Yes, it didn’t start moving until after I got close to it. The light started as red, pulsed twice, then turned green.”
“A tracker.”
“A what?”
“Get out of there,” Zin said. “It’s going to burn up in the next few seconds. It’ll be smoky in that cave and dangerous.”
As soon as she said it, the edges of the map started to curl, then turn brown. I scrambled toward the mouth of the cave, climbing up as a tiny flame lit along the edges.
“Here!” Zin dropped me the wire. “Put this around you. Has it started to burn?”
“Sure has.”
While I tied the cord around myself, Zin changed into her jaguar form. I grasped tight, and she yanked, pulling me up as I scrambled over the ledge. By the time I landed face first on the grass of Peter’s backyard, she’d already shifted back to human form and was kneeling beside me.
“Do you know where the tracker led us?”
“What’s a tracker?”
“A person can enchant themselves onto a map. They entrust someone with the key, and only the person with the key can see their whereabouts. It works once before incinerating. Did you catch the location?”
“It looked like they were near MAGIC, Inc..”
“Does that mean anything to you?”
Suddenly, everything made sense, and I looked up at Zin. I looked up at Zin. “I know where they’ve taken him. All of them.”
“Where?”
I hesitated, the magical contract burning as the words formed at my lips. I was bound not to divulge the truth about Wishery to anyone, not even Zin. I didn’t want to discover the consequences for breaking the NDA when I had so many other things to do.
So, I sighed. “I can’t tell you.”
“After all we just went through together, and now you can’t tell me your great epiphany?”
“No,” I said emphatically. “I can’t.”
At that, she frowned, then looked down at my fingers. I moved them into fists so she couldn’t see them shaking as I fought back the urge to explain everything.
“Is it related to that vial in your storeroom you’ve been all secretive about?”
I gritted my teeth and nodded. The tingling sensation grew more intense. I was hovering on a dangerous line.
“MAGIC, Inc. swore you to secrecy,” she said, then cursed under her breath. “Even X can’t know the details.”
“Not unless I get explicit permission. I’m going to contact Ainsley once we get back to the bungalow.”
“I understand. Then, I suppose we should get going?”
“I’m sorry, Zin. I just—”
“I get it.”
We set off on a silent journey toward home. It wasn’t until we were nearly at the bungalow that I broke the silence. “Thank you for your help back there.”
Zin gave me a smile, the tension dissipating. “Of course.”
“Do you want to come inside?”
“Lily, what do you think about Poppy?”
“What about her?” I asked as we approached the front steps. “I’ve told you everything I know.”
“I mean…do you think she might be one of the disappeared? She’s still not back.” Zin’s voice grew in urgency. “Poppy doesn’t strike me as the type to stay away so long; even if she was upset at Mimsey, she’d get over it. They’re the best of friends.”
“I don’t know—”
A wail launched from behind me, interrupting my response as I spun around and stumbled up the steps with Zin close on my tail.
Or rather, Zin as a jaguar. The jungle cat slid onto the porch in front of me, blocking me from whoever was waiting for our arrival. She’d entered into attack mode.
It wasn’t long before she retreated. “Mimsey?” Zin said, shifting back at once. She brushed her hands against her leather pants and swept a stray cat hair from her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
Mimsey watched us with huge tears in her eyes. “You think they took my baby?!”
“No, Mimsey.” I moved quickly over to her, catching my aunt as she collapsed in my arms. “We’re not sure of anything.”
Her dress, usually bright and colorful, appeared dim today. Even her cheeks, normally rosy and pink, had faded pale, and her laugh had all but disappeared.
“She—she’s my best friend,” Mimsey said. “And it’s because of me she’s gone. I came here to f-finish planning her party,” she sniffed. “She d-deserves the best. Oh, what am I saying? She won’t even be here.”
“She’ll be back, I promise,” I said, catching Zin’s eye. “We’ll have her back by her birthday, I guarantee it. This is not your fault.”
“How can you possibly promise that?”
“Because I know where they’ve taken the others, and I’m going after them,” I said. “If they took Poppy, too, I’ll get her back. I’m going to contact Ainsley, the Rangers—anyone and everyone I can think of who is able to help.”
“The Rangers,” Mimsey said, dreamily. “I suppose I should…I should report Poppy as missing to HQ.”
“I’ll go with you,” Zin volunteered. “And I’ll let Glinda know about Poppy. Maybe she can have the Forest Fairies do a quick search around the island. Then, I’ll check in with X.”
Zin fell silent, watching as her aunt plodded down the bungalow’s front path and stopped just before the water’s edge. “Do you think she would miss me like that if I were the one gone?”
“Who?”
“My mom,” she said quietly. “Do you think she’d even notice?”
“Yes.” I slipped an arm around Zin’s shoulder and tugged her slight frame toward me. “Trinket is different than Mimsey, but she loves you just as much, just as hard.”
“I owe her an apology.”
I didn’t disagree, merely let Zin rest her head on my shoulder for a long moment. The wind picked up again, and I glanced at the sky. “Another storm is coming. You both should get going.”
“Will you be okay here?”
“Gus should be back soon,” I said. “There was a shipment coming in today with supplies. He’ll be back once he’s done with the order.”
Hours later, I began to wonder what was taking Gus so long. He should’ve been back by now, or at least sent word if he needed help.
As I puttered around the storeroom, preparing small vials of antidote, I realized he’d probably caught up with Mimsey. Which was where he should be, I thought. There was a storm heading toward The Isle, and it’d be best if Mimsey didn’t have to weather it alone.
If Gus wasn’t returning tonight, I needed to get started without him. Making my way over toward the window, I gathered the ingredients into my travel belt, placing the silver, the stardust Gus had acquired, and everything else I’d need into their own little pockets. Lastly, I picked up the storm cloud contained in the vial and carried everything over to the storeroom table.
I Mixed until everything was just right, the familiar hum of magic surrounding me as I worked. A contentedness settling over my shoulders, despite my captivity. This is what I was born to do, my small way of infusing a light into the darkness swirling around the city. I might not always like it, but Mixology coursed through my veins; I lived, breathed, worked with it—even needed it.
Lost in my own world, I pulled the silver dust from my belt, muttered an incantation, and sprinkled it into the larger potion. The final step.
A cloud of smoke emerged as I returned the silver to my belt, next to a pink tube of Long Isle Iced Tea, a sample of the black cloud, and a few other necessities. The vial of antidote sitting on the table turned a deep, royal purple as it burst out of the glass, enveloping the room. For a moment, it hovered in the air, thick and smoggy, and then crackled into oblivion, leaving the finalized potion in the vial.
My heart leapt. Joy pounded in my throat as I fought back tears of stress, of happiness, of relief. “Finally,” I murmured, resting my hands against the counter.
“Well done,” a voice said behind me. “Incredibly well done, as a matter of fact.”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t turn around. The voice had a gravel quality to it that held me captive. I knew it, but I didn’t. Familiar, but a stranger.
“Hello, Lily,” the figure said, waiting for me to peel myself around and face him. “You are your mother’s daughter, just like they said.”
I struggled to swallow, but failed. My breath came in ragged slices through my lungs.
“I’d ask you to come with me nicely,” he said, calm and almost tenderly. “But I don’t think we have time for formalities.”
Footsteps sounded, a hand reached out, and he plucked the lily from the corner. Before I could move, he muttered words from another language under his breath, closed his eyes, and blew.
A dusty powder burst from the flower, surrounded by a sickly sweet floral scent. I had only a second to react, a moment to lunge for the vial of antidote before coughing, fading, drifting into blackness.
My body crumpled to the floor, weak. A fizzling shot through me, like the last breath of a firework. By the time I landed, I was gone.
Chapter 26
SLEEP FELT SO GOOD, so nice.
I sunk into it, dreams carrying me away as sweetness wrapped around me.
Undisturbed, I continued to slumber, only waking when the intensity of the flowery scent began to fade. It was replaced by the smell of freshly laundered sheets and a slight mustiness in the air. Only once the confusion set in did I find the willpower to slowly, one by one, force my eyes to open and study my surroundings.
I had been placed in a bed, and to my surprise, I wasn’t bound in any way to prevent me from escaping. I moved slowly, testing each of my limbs in turn, and yet none of them had been tied back.
As I began to stretch, the soreness hit me. How long I’d been out was difficult to say, but my muscles felt weak, almost too relaxed. As if they, too, had gone to sleep and had forgotten how to function.
A quick scan of the space told me this resembled a bedroom, and I was the only occupant. I eased into a seated position, leaning back against the headboard, and pulled the covers higher to my chest. I’d been changed out of my clothes into a gown that felt like satin.
My breathing sped up, my mind flipping through the curious series of events. I’d been kidnapped—right? Kidnappers weren’t typically known to treat their captives like royalty. I closed my eyes, struggling to piece together my memories, splicing the line between dreams and reality.
The space around me did feel quite royal. My bed had gauzy draping hung from four posters, the comforter even softer than my nightgown. Directly across the room sat an antique-looking desk, a huge thing with a mirror perched on the top and drawers lining the sides.
In the mirror, I studied the reflection of myself. Pale faced, anxious, my mouth had formed a pout and my eyes were bright and alert. It looked so unlike me that I raised a hand to my face to check for a reaction.
The hand in the mirror raised, too, and I exhaled. That was me, the pale-faced, frightened thing. Climbing out of bed, I caught sight of my clothes hanging over the desk chair. I hurried to them, also finding the belt resting, untouched, on the desk, along with a string of empty vials that had also been tucked there at the time of my kidnapping.
I took stock of my supplies: one vial of Long Isle Iced Tea. A second filled with silver, and a third filled with the black smoke. The last contained the ingredients necessary for a pint-sized antidote against the spell surrounding Wishery. I’d grabbed it off the storeroom table just before I collapsed.
Then, with a sinking heart, I realized there must be no chance for an escape if my captors felt confident enough to leave me unbound and ungagged with all of my supplies intact.
“Oh, you’re up! Good evening,” a pleasant voice chimed from the door. “I should’ve knocked first, but I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Who are you?” I spun to face the friendly voice, my vials clinking as I clasped them behind my back. “Where are we? Why am I here?”
A petite, thin, woman with dark hair secured in a neat bun gave me an easy smile. “I figured you might have a few questions, and so did he.”
“Who is he?”
“Never mind, Miss Locke. Did you find your sleeping arrangements suitable? He wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”
“Is this he you speak of the one who kidnapped me?”
“He would prefer to talk to you himself. I’m just here to ensure your needs are met and you’re comfortable. Shall I help you dress?”
“Was it you who helped me into my pajamas?”
“Well, yes, of course. Simple spells. I’ve been a housemaid for many years, and one picks up a few tricks now and again.”
I clutched my clothes in the other hand. “No, I’m perfectly fine on my own. Where are we?”
“Let’s get you dressed. And no, I’m sorry those clothes will not do.”
“But—”
“Here. I’ve picked a selection for you.” The woman moved smoothly across the room, rested her hand on a doorknob I hadn’t yet noticed, and flung it open. “Anything from here will do, except for the blue. I really think the blue will be best for the gala.”
“Gala? Which gala?”
“He will explain.”
“I don’t want him to explain,” I said, fury building as my feet carried me toward this curious woman. “I want you to explain. You seem nice enough. He doesn’t.”
She chortled in a good-natured way. “I love to see humor around here finally. Everyone’s been in such a dreary mood lately. You may call me Belinda.”
“Okay, Belinda, I’d like some answers before I put on…” I turned, my eyes widening as I looked into the closet and digested its contents. “A ball gown?”
“Oh, don’t be silly. This isn’t more than a little evening gown. This, however…” she flicked on the light and stepped inside the closet—a closet as large as the bungalow’s storeroom. “This is a ball gown. For tomorrow evening.”
“What is tomorrow evening?”
“Your induction.”
“To what?”
“I’ve already said too m
uch,” Belinda said, her cheeks brightening. “Let me take you to him. Get dressed, please, or I’ll have to do it for you again.”
“No, I’d prefer—”
“Then move along, move along.” She shooed me toward the row of dresses. “I’ll be waiting in the hall. Do you prefer your hair in braids or in pins? I have been practicing both, and I’d like to try one without magic.”
“I’m confused about—” The bedroom door slammed shut, punctuating my question. My shoulders slumped in dismay. “About everything,” I finished, trying the handle. Locked.
“It’ll unlock once you’ve changed,” she said. “Sorry for the force, but I had a feeling you would need some convincing. It’s just a dress, Miss Locke.”
Just a dress. I glanced around, thinking none of these were ‘just dresses’. We had yellows and reds and pinks, one colored like an emerald and another in a deep, royal purple. Dresses all colors of the rainbow, and I had no idea why I needed to wear any of them.
“Where am I?” I yelled through the door. “What is going on? Why the dress?”
“Put one on, and we’ll talk face to face. You’re running low on time. You overslept by an hour and a half.”
“Probably because I was poisoned! Do you know why he kidnapped me?”
“He never intended to hurt you; he simply wants to get to know you.”
I stood before the mirror, retrieving a shiny, silver dress. Shimmering fabric slid down my shoulders and over my back, dusting the floor near my feet as it shifted into place. A perfect fit.
“How…?” I murmured aloud, wondering about the perfect measurements, then chalked it up to magic. It was the only solution that didn’t make me cringe.
I finally pulled my chin up to look in the mirror, surveying the silver fabric that glimmered and danced in the light. The gown itself was long and flowing, with lacy sleeves that covered my arms. Elegant, certainly, and very gorgeous. Why I needed it at all was still a mystery.
“How are you doing?” Belinda called. “Did I get the sizing right?”
“It’s pretty good,” I said, unwilling to admit its perfection. “One second, please. Almost done.”