by Beam, Brian
“Sometime after you started talking to Isilla,” Briscott replied, still smiling. “I think your mind was on other things. Actually, make that two other things.” Til’ hid a snicker behind his hand.
“You two are just Vilucia-blooded jealous that you weren’t given the same offer,” I retorted playfully, turning to the door and sticking the key into the lock. Their speechlessness brought a smile to my face as I pushed the door open. Vilucia is the goddess of sensuality.
Our room was as barebones as could be, about half the size of the smallest inn room I’d ever stayed in. One side of the room had a narrow bed and a small cedar chest. The other, about a step and a half away, had a plain wooden chair and matching table. There was a ewer of water, a washbowl and washing cloth, two ceramic mugs, and some kind of glowing orb lighting the room on the table. The walls were bare stone, but the floor had a thick red carpet from wall to wall. The bed was only big enough for one, so the carpet would make sleeping on the floor a little more comfortable for the two of us that would have to.
Briscott stepped around me into the room. “Hmm, looking at this blighted room, maybe I should go work my own charms on Isilla,” he said, but as he finished, he let out a choke. With how friendly, calm, and easy-going Briscott typically was, it was easy to forget he’d not long ago lost his family.
“I can’t believe I just blighting said that,” Briscott gasped, his voice quavering. “Livia . . .” His eyes began to mist. “Loranis forgive me.” I put a comforting hand to his shoulder, but he shrugged away and shoved a hand into the inner lining of his cloak. His teary eyes widened in shock, and he then reached into the other side, frantically searching for something.
“Briscott, what’s wrong?” I asked, concerned. “What are you looking for?”
Briscott brought one trembling hand to his beard, rubbing at it as his eyes blinked rapidly and shifted from side to side. His other hand ran through his hair. “Nothing. I-I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll be back.” With that, Briscott cut in between Til’ and me and hurried down the hallway.
“Briscott?” Til’ called as Briscott shoved through the red curtain. Til’ made to follow, but I restrained him.
“Let him go. He has a lot to deal with that we can’t even begin to really understand,” I told Til’, my heart aching as I came to realize the truth of my words. “He’s been keeping so much inside, just pushing it down, just putting up a happy front. I believe he needs some time to be alone and sort through this. He’ll be okay.”
I gave Til’ with a reassuring smile, though I truly was worried about Briscott. His actions had been uncharacteristic for him. And just what had he been searching for in his cloak that had caused him to lose control when he couldn’t find it?
I shut the door and dropped my backpack to the floor, the clinking of broken glass sounding within. Til’ gave the door a sidelong glance as if considering following Briscott anyway, but he simply shrugged and quickly took three Kolarin-sized steps across the room, hopping onto the bed and letting his legs dangle over the side.
“I call the bed,” he announced with a victorious grin. He bounced up and down a bit, presumably testing its comfort. “Though I think the floor may be more comfortable than this.”
“Now wait just a minute,” I interjected. “Shouldn’t I get the bed after being chased across the city by the Wizard Guard? Besides, you’d take up much less room on the floor. We wouldn’t want Briscott tripping over anyone when he gets back.”
Til’ responded by scrunching his face and sticking his tongue out at me as he removed his cloak and draped it territorially across the foot of the bed, dropping his satchel atop it. He tucked his raven hair behind his slightly pointed ears and stretched out across the mattress to complete his claim.
“Okay, fine. But if I end up in room one, it’s your fault,” I joked, draping my own cloak over the chair before pushing my scabbard aside and plopping down onto it.
Til’ propped himself up on his elbows. “I’ll be sure to let Sal’ know all about that,” he teased before dropping back onto the bed. “So do you really think Briscott’s okay?” he asked, drastically changing the tone of the conversation.
“I hope so,” I answered with a sigh. I hated the thought of Briscott dealing with the pain of losing his family and his home.
I slumped down further on the chair, every one of my muscles crying for rest. However, there was still unfinished business that had to be addressed before we could get any sleep. Despite my body’s protests, I sat up and leaned forward with my hands on my knees. “So what did Ulys give you? How are we getting into the Wizard Academy?”
Til’ sat up with a smile. “Oh yeah, I’d already forgotten about that.” Til’ grabbed his satchel and flung it open, rummaging through it and bringing out a small, opaque, corked bottle. “She gave me this!”
With a skeptical raise of my eyebrow, I reached for the bottle. “And what is this exactly?”
Til’s grin widened. “It’s an invisibility potion!”
My skeptical expression did not budge. “Invisibility potion?”
Til’ nodded his head enthusiastically. “Uh-huh. She said you can drink half to test it and half when you actually need to use it. According to her, it should last about an hour for you, though it has something to do with how quickly it works its way out of your system. But she promised it would work. Anything maintaining contact with your skin should become invisible as well. She told me that she enchanted it herself and that no wizard will be able to detect it.”
“I’m just wondering how much we can trust her,” I muttered, spinning the bottle between my fingers.
“She was really nice,” Til’ returned defensively. “I don’t think she was trying to trick us. She did say that she would be sure to hunt us down and make us curse the day we were born if we were caught and gave her name to anyone. That’s not nice, is it? I still think Ulys was telling the truth about the potion, though.”
Grudgingly, I nodded my agreement. I thought about the man who’d saved me from Grayson. He’d only helped in order prevent me from revealing any names from the seedy underground of the Black Magic District. “You’re probably right. She’s putting her reputation on the line and, if we were to be caught, possibly her entire livelihood. Ulys wouldn’t put herself at risk on purpose.” I fingered the cork, debating if I could really trust that Ulys’s supposed invisibility potion wouldn’t harm me. “Would she?”
Til’ shrugged. “Just try it. There’s plenty of wizards just down the hall who can help you if anything goes wrong.” His eyes were filled with childlike curiosity as he stared at the bottle in my hand.
“Well, considering how long as we’ve been in this city, I don’t think we’re going to find any other options anytime soon,” I admitted, pulling the two ceramic mugs towards me. I popped the cork from the bottle with my thumb and started pouring its cloudy contents a little at a time into each mug in an attempt to make two equal doses. I didn’t want to find out what the results of drinking too much or too little would be. In all truthfulness, I didn’t really want to test it at all. Yes, I wanted to get into the Wizard Academy, but I wanted to do so in a way that didn’t require putting my complete trust in a potion created by someone I knew nothing about.
Sadly, I didn’t have much of a choice. All I could do was assume that since Ulys claimed there was enough for two doses, I needed to try to take exactly half of it. I eyed the two mugs uneasily. If Max had been there, I’m sure I would’ve gotten a lecture on just how stupid drinking a magic potion that was presumably illegal and given to me by a stranger was. He would end his tirade with a haughty expression, just waiting patiently to tell me “I told you so” if things went bad or “You got lucky” if they didn’t.
Til’ jumped off the bed and ran to the other side of the table. “Do you want me to take it? I don’t mind trying it. I wouldn’t mind being invisible. I’m pretty sure that if I’d had something like this back in Isaeron, I would’ve never been caught stealing,
and the Chief wouldn’t have banished me.” He stared at the two mugs contemplatively as if considering the possibilities the potion presented.
“Didn’t you give up the whole thievery bit?” I asked.
Til’ dropped his eyes to the floor, chastised. “I’m just saying, it could be handy, you know?”
“Well, as much as I appreciate the offer, I better be the one to test it. I’ll be the one going into the Wizard Academy. If anyone is to be put at risk for this rescue, it’s going to be me.” Grabbing the mug, I brought it up, giving the contents a sniff. There was no odor.
With a deep breath, I tipped my head back, drinking the potion in a single swallow. It was slightly bitter, but otherwise didn’t have much of a taste. I put the mug back on the table and looked down expecting to see nothing but the chair I was sitting on. Instead, I saw my still completely visible self.
“Guess it takes some time to kick in,” Til’ suggested, his large silver eyes fixated on me expectantly.
“Or Ulys is full of—” The words died in my throat as I saw that my hand resting on the table was becoming translucent. I could see the grain of the wooden tabletop clearly through it. I looked down to see that my entire body was the same, clothes and everything. My belt and scabbard were still fully visible since they didn’t make direct contact with my skin, so I took them off and set them on the table as my visibility continued to fade. During the few moments that my hands touched them, they began to disappear as well, snapping back to full visibility as soon as I released them.
“Wow!” Til’ exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder. “That is so amazing! Does it hurt?”
I shook my head as my body rapidly became more and more see-through. After a handful of moments, I could no longer see myself. “Til’, can you see me?”
Til’ shook his head, flashing a wide, amused smile. “This is definitely going to work. They’ll never see you go in, and then you can get Max and Xalis and find Sal’ and . . .”
I held up a hand to silence the Kolarin before realizing how useless the gesture was in my current state. Instead, I just had to talk over him. “It’s still not going to be easy,” I began, reaching out to grab one of the mugs as if to make sure my hand wouldn’t pass through it. It took two attempts to actually grab it—just try picking up something when you can’t see your own hand—but once my hand closed around it, I gripped it firmly, making it disappear immediately. Til’s eyes widened even more, and his mouth dropped open. It looked as if the mug had simply vanished.
I set it back on the table and took a few experimental steps forward. “If I could find Sal’, she could help me get Max, but I have no idea where she’d be. So I’ll have to focus on getting Max first. I’m going to assume that he was taken because he used magic against the wizards who took him. He wouldn’t willingly give them any information about his abilities if questioned, but I’m sure they’d want to know all they could about how a squirrel can use magic.” I paused, mentally laughing at the thought of a group of wizards questioning a squirrel.
“Max told me before that he’d feared becoming a research subject at the Wizard Academy when he’d been there before. So I figure he was most likely taken to the laboratory where he could be studied or have tests done on him or whatever it is that they do there.” I knew about the laboratory from Sal’. She had “acquired” some magical items from it, one of which had kept us from being baked by a dragon. I was making a lot of assumptions in believing Max had been taken there, but it was as good a guess as any.
“I’ll still need to find the laboratory quickly and make sure I can get Max without anyone noticing his abrupt disappearance. I mean, they’d surely notice a magic squirrel seemingly vanish. And what if he’s not in the laboratory?”
Til’ shook his head. “No, I think you’re right. Where else would they take him? We can ask around some more to see if anyone can tell us how to find the laboratory. And once you find Max, he’ll know what to do from there.” Til’ had a point. If I got Max in my hands, he would make sure we weren’t caught.
“Then there’s the issue of finding Sal’. Hopefully Max will have some kind of idea on how to find her. I can’t just leave her to her father. You’ve heard how she feels about him. I know she’d rather come to Gualain with me.” I felt a strange tension in my chest as I said that last part. We belong together, I added to myself.
Til’ gave me an all-too-knowing grin. “You’ll find her, Korin. You two belong together,” he insisted, echoing my own thoughts.
Til’ then started shooting a dozen or so questions about the invisibility at me, but I ignored them as I stepped around to his back, trying to be as silent as possible. He was still staring straight at where I’d been sitting when I suddenly grabbed his shoulders and sent him jumping off the ground with a yelp. His body disappeared in a flash, reappearing as I pulled my hands away.
“That’s not funny, Korin!” he reprimanded, spinning with his arms outstretched to make sure I wasn’t close enough to scare him again. I pressed against the wall to keep just out of his reach, an invisible smile plastered on my face as he tried to look everywhere at once for signs of my location.
After enjoying his reaction for a few moments more, I moved back to the table and dropped noisily on the chair, making it obvious where I was. Til’ seemed to forgive my joke immediately and put his hands on the table, leaning forward as he stared at where my invisible form sat.
“Korin, this is so neat! I wonder why wizards don’t use stuff like this all the time. You’d think they could use it to get away with anything.” Til’s eyes went out of focus, again seeming to contemplate what he could do with an invisibility potion of his own. To his credit, I was starting to think of the possibilities myself.
There was a sudden knock on the door. “It’s me, Briscott,” Briscott announced from the other side, his voice muffled.
Til’s eyes focused back on where I sat, an impish grin spreading across his face. I knew what he was thinking, and I was thinking the same thing. As I stood, Til’ went to the door and let Briscott in.
Briscott’s typical pleasant expression had returned. He looked awake and alert with no signs of his earlier distress. “I’m sorry about that,” he apologized as he stepped forward. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m okay now.” He scanned the room. “Where’s Korin?”
“Don’t worry. You’re forgiven,” I said loudly, clapping a hand forcefully on Briscott’s shoulder.
Briscott let out a scream and jumped, disappearing and reappearing as his head almost hit the ceiling. We all shared some friendly laughter after Briscott’s nerves settled and we explained everything to him, but I’ll never forget the look on his face.
Chapter 24
Invisibility Just Makes Me Sick
It took just over an hour for me to understand why I’d never heard of a wizard using an invisibility potion.
Once my body eased back into visibility—around an hour later as Ulys had estimated—I became sick. Violently sick. Sick as in vomiting with enough force that I worried that my stomach and intestines were about to come up with the meat rolls I’d recently eaten. That wasn’t even the worst part.
All of my muscles felt like rubber, and I was barely able to stand. That made getting to the privy down the hall much more difficult than I’d have liked, especially considering that I had to run to it every few minutes. My vision had blurred to the point of needing Til’ or Briscott to actually lead me there. Given the profound weakness consuming my body, they nearly had to carry me. Before the end of the first hour, I’d convinced myself that Ulys had poisoned me.
Til’ got worried enough to venture back into the barroom for help, while Briscott did what he could to keep me comfortable. He wetted the washing cloth to drape over my burning forehead and made sure I drank plenty of water to protect me from dehydration. Otherwise, there was little he could do.
Til’ returned with Isilla close behind. Her eyes shone with unvoiced laughter, but she was at least kind eno
ugh to keep it inside. She was also kind enough to keep from making any further prurient insinuations. Maybe it was more from the fact that I threw up on her sandaled feet than kindness.
Anyway, against all odds, it turned out that Isilla was a sorceress—one with some skill in healing. According to her, though, the aftereffects of the potion pretty much had to take their own course and would last no more than a few hours . . . a few, agonizing, eternal hours.
She brought in a small beady-eyed animal, one that was fairly rodent-like with long, flexible spines covering its back. Holding it in one hand, Isilla had me lay on the bed and pressed her other hand to my forehead. With a slight warmth coursing through my body, my stomach somewhat settled. The weakness remained, but as bad as I’d felt before Isilla’s magic, I wouldn’t have dared complain.
Isilla stood from the bed where I lay, stroking her hand across the animal’s spines. Though her cleavage was still prominently displayed, she didn’t go out of her way to accentuate it as she’d done at the bar. “Well, I guess I won’t wait up for you,” she laughed. “You boys sleep well. Whether you feel better in the morning or not, you will all be out an hour after sunrise. Got it?” I weakly nodded my head in response, with Til’ and Briscott voicing their agreement.
“And you,” she continued, pointing at me, “stay away from any kind of ‘magic’ potions. There’s a reason people who know anything about magic don’t use them. Those Ghruzin-blooded aftereffects tend to worsen the more you use them.”
“Ghruzin?” Til’ questioned. I actually wasn’t familiar with that god myself. As I’ve said before, there are dozens upon dozens of them. The human brain can only retain so many.
Isilla only smiled. “Good night, boys. If you need my magic again, it won’t be free.” She turned and left the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
“Loose stools,” Briscott said when the door shut. Til’ and I looked over to him in confusion. “Ghruzin’s the god of loose stools.” Briscott’s amusement was obvious with the way his eyes sparkled. Til’ started laughing. As I lay there feeling like living death, I failed to see the humor.
