Gordy frowned. “Disconnected from the Vessel?”
“Yeah, it’s complicated to explain.” She killed the heat to the cauldron and fished Max’s stone from the quicksilver with a pair of cast-iron tongs.
“Mom?” Gordy asked as she ran water over the stone in the sink, unleashing a barrage of fizzling steam. “Did you ever find out what set off the alarm at B.R.E.W.?”
She shook her head. “It’s a mystery I’ll never understand, I suppose.”
“Could it have been . . . someone invisible?” The question sounded crazy, but the idea had been gnawing on his insides ever since Adilene’s demonstration.
“What do you mean?” She transferred the stone to a pocket in her satchel. Max stared after it longingly, which made her crack a slight smile.
Gordy coughed into his fist and cleared his throat. “I mean, could somebody have snuck into the Vessel room without being seen by anyone else, not even the wards?”
His mom looked weary, as though she weren’t interested in entertaining bizarre notions. “No one can become completely invisible.”
Gordy gave Max a sideways glance. “Adilene can.”
Gordy told his mom everything that had happened that afternoon. He told her about Cadence and the weird inky potion. He told her how the two girls had snuck into the house without engaging the home wards and how Adilene had magically disappeared in the living room. Then Gordy told her how Max’s mysterious object had revealed Adilene in a beam of bluish light. After the incident at the Brexils’ house, Gordy had promised to never keep secrets from his mom again. When he finished his story, Gordy’s mom leaned against the wall in the hallway, her head tilted slightly to one side.
“It’s absolutely true,” Gordy said, feeling sick to his stomach.
“I don’t know, pal,” Gordy’s mom replied. “Sounds far-fetched.”
“I would agree with you, Mrs. Stits,” Max said, his tone businesslike, “if I hadn’t seen Rivera turn into a poltergeist myself.”
“She didn’t turn into a poltergeist.” Gordy’s mom paused. “I don’t doubt you witnessed something extraordinary, but there’s not a potion I know of that could do what you just described. It sounds to me as though Adilene might be pulling a clever prank on you. She’s made a new friend, who happens to be a Dram—there are plenty of them in town who aren’t registered with B.R.E.W. or don’t go to public schools—and she probably made a potion that plays tricks on your mind.”
“But, Mom . . .” Gordy started.
She held up a hand to silence him. “You’ve pulled your own share of stunts since you’ve starting practicing potion making. Cadence might just be a girl after your own heart.”
“Yeah, but I called dibs,” Max muttered.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll ask around about Adilene’s invisibility potion,” she said. “I’m meeting with your aunt this Friday morning to discuss a few things. Now that I’m unemployed, I suppose I had better find some work.”
Gordy raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Meeting with Aunt Priss? She wasn’t suddenly turning into a criminal now, was she?
“Don’t give me that look, Gordy,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “I haven’t fallen off the deep end yet.”
School wasn’t the same without Adilene. It had been almost a week since they’d spoken, and still she kept away from him. Gordy saw Adilene shouldering through the throngs of students in the hallway, but she wouldn’t stop to talk.
At least he could see her.
Each day, he tried to get her attention in geometry, but that provoked more insults from Brittany Lister. Why did the most popular girl have to sit between him and his best friend? Then, right after school on Friday, Gordy attempted to catch up with Adilene outside the main doors. But she was too fast, and though she didn’t drink any more of the potion, Adilene vanished just the same. This time it was onto the bus that would take her back to Gordy’s old neighborhood.
Max moved up next to Gordy by the curb. “Are you ready to have a wonderful time at your B.R.E.W. training today?” he asked with mock sophistication.
Gordy shrugged. “You’re sure your mom’s okay to drive us?”
“Are you kidding?” Max cocked an eyebrow. “My mom loves all that Somnium garbage. She uses the facial stuff every night while she watches Jeopardy.” Max’s mom believed she was dropping the boys off for an after-school field trip to the Somnium building, which was really the cover for B.R.E.W.
“Yeah, but she’s not going to be able to hang around,” Gordy said. The wards surrounding the headquarters were so powerful Max’s mom wouldn’t be able to stay any longer than B.R.E.W. wanted her to before she’d have to drive away in a dizzying blur.
“Well, they better not have a sale going on inside. No wards will keep my mom out if she catches wind of that.”
Normally, Bolter would have picked Gordy up from school, but he had canceled over the phone. Something about having to make a few extra modifications to Estelle. Gordy had heard the car screeching in the background like an enraged barn owl. Bolter had informed Gordy that Max’s mom had agreed to drive them. When Gordy had asked how Mrs. Pinkerman would be able to make it past the security posts out front, Bolter insisted they would have no trouble whatsoever.
B.R.E.W. Headquarters looked like a cross between a typical office building and a high-security prison. There were bright neon lights showcasing Somnium Fine Creams And Oils above the front entryway, but also razor-wire fences around the perimeter of the property. Men and women in business attire and work badges entered the lobby while armed security guards patrolled at several checkpoints. This was the first time Gordy would be visiting B.R.E.W. without his mom working there. He didn’t like the way it felt, and he busied himself taking a silent inventory of his potion ingredients.
Bolter had been right though. Max’s mom was issued a temporary visitor’s badge at the first security checkpoint, and she wove her way through the parking lot without a care in the world.
Madame Brexil greeted Gordy and Max in the lobby. She looked much like she had the night of Sasha’s party. Elegant, powerful, and with a pleasant smile.
“Gordy Stitser. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” She held out her hand, and Gordy wanted to smack it away, but he would never do that. His mom would ground him for a century for that. “I trust you understand I was forced to make a difficult decision with the Sequester Strap. It was for the betterment of the Community.” Madame Brexil leaned in close, speaking in a hushed voice. “No hard feelings?”
Gordy refused to make eye contact. “Nope. I’m good.”
No hard feelings? That woman had fired his mom, had kicked Gordy out of his own lab, and was forcing him to be trained by a complete stranger. Which, by the way, if he didn’t perform perfectly, could mean that Gordy would never be able to brew again. Why would he ever have any hard feelings?
Max turned and waved to his mom sitting out in the SUV. “Get out of here, Mom!” he shouted. “I’ll text you when we’re done!”
Gordy didn’t actually think Mrs. Pinkerman could hear him, despite the deafening volume of his voice, but still the SUV pulled away from the curb.
Gordy gripped his satchel—the one Sasha had given him after her party. He had planned on burning it, but his mom had talked him out of it. Such a nice gift needed to be used, she had insisted. Still, Gordy missed his backpack. He also missed Adilene. He had texted her during the car ride over, but unsurprisingly, she hadn’t responded.
Instead of the room they had used during Gordy’s first training session on the main level, Madame Brexil led the two boys to a much bigger room on the second level. The one labeled in the directory as the Military floor. Gordy had passed through this zone when he had gone on his first tour with his mom and Bolter last year.
“Sasha and Pedro are already waiting inside for you,” Madame Brexil explained, as she came
to a stop by a closed door. “Pedro’s agreed to be Sasha’s lab partner. Good luck to the both of you. I will be watching.” Then she strode off, her heels noisily clopping on the tiled floor.
“Good riddance,” Max said under his breath.
Gordy watched Mrs. Brexil step onto the elevator and vanish from sight. Then he turned back to the door and read the name on the placard: Zelda Morphata.
“Zelda?” Gordy gaped in shock. The very same Zelda who drank milkweed nectar in his living room? Gordy pushed the door open, and there she was, an oversized garden gnome, standing barefoot on the table.
“How do you do, Gordy?” Zelda chirped. “Oh my, and you brought a friend.”
“You’re going to be my trainer?” Gordy stared at Zelda in disbelief.
She giggled. “And Sasha Brexil’s too!”
Gordy saw Sasha frowning from behind one of the tables. She glared at Gordy, and he snorted, covering his mouth and passing it off as a sneeze.
Zelda’s office was the polar opposite of Bolter’s. Where Bolter had junk and automotive parts crammed into every available inch, Zelda had few possessions. Aside from a normal Elixirist workstation of Bunsen burners, vials, and ingredients, she owned an eyewash station and what Gordy guessed was a brick oven, like the kind used to bake pizzas. Zelda also had a weapons rack attached to the wall instead of a chalkboard. There were several weapons dangling from hooks. Jade-colored grenades, bright-yellow mortars, and a flamethrower with a dual-sectioned glass hopper containing both black and white liquids. Gordy had seen that potion before, though on a much smaller scale. Zelda had used the same one to set the stairwell in Gordy’s previous home ablaze.
“Come in; let’s get started,” Zelda said. “Boys, please take your shoes and socks off.”
Max’s eyes bulged. “What? Why?”
“Because brewing is always better with bare feet!”
Gordy looked at Zelda and then back over to Sasha, this time noticing the girl’s toes wiggling freely beneath her chair.
“Yeah,” Sasha said, with a slight frown. “Brilliant, huh?”
Sasha’s lab partner, Pedro Rodriguez, was busy setting up the workstation with a small cauldron, a Bunsen burner, and a spice rack with a variety of colorful ingredients. His black-and-white sneakers and wadded-up sweaty socks lay in a heap under the table.
Max gawked at Gordy. “What are we going to do? Walk across a bed of hot coals?”
Gordy didn’t care what Zelda had them do. Yes, she was one of the most bizarre people he had ever met, even more so than Bolter, but she was a family friend. He didn’t know how Zelda had landed herself the job of conducting his formal training, but it just might save his potion-making career. This changed everything.
Gordy slid out of his sneakers and pulled his socks off, kicking them aside. The floor felt chilly beneath his toes, but he took up his position at the table opposite Sasha and began setting up his workstation.
“Now, for your first lesson,” Zelda squeaked. “You need to escape this room, but the door has been locked from the outside, and the windows are off-limits.” She stood on the counter, which made her a foot taller than Gordy, and she had her chubby fingers clasped together in front of her waist. “What do you do?”
Both Gordy and Sasha immediately selected a brass cauldron from the table’s offering. Gordy didn’t know if this lesson was meant to be a race, but he intended on solving the problem first regardless. Unlocking a door was simple. There were at least a dozen different draughts Gordy could concoct. Indonesian Kunci Cream would work nicely. All he needed were five ingredients and a medium-heated Bunsen burner. Gordy gestured to Max, who hurriedly unzipped the satchel.
“Coneflower petals. Grab three of them, but don’t touch the stems,” he whispered to Max.
Beads of sweat had already started dribbling down Max’s forehead, but he followed the instructions, uncorking the vial, and with semi-fumbling fingers passed Gordy the petals.
“I should have a small container of grated anoa horns, down in the center compartment,” Gordy said next. “Hand me those and the bottle of honeybee wings as well.”
“Check!” Max blinked into the bag, his face scrunching in concentration as he searched for the ingredients.
Maybe now his best friend would get a true taste of what it was like to be an actual lab partner. It wasn’t just passing vials under noses or keeping track of an ingredient inventory. A qualified partner could easily cut Gordy’s brewing time in half. That is, of course, until they graduated to Dual Mixing, when Gordy would need a trained Dram to help him. But Gordy didn’t want to think about that right now.
He glanced over at Sasha and noticed that she had already tossed a cube of yak butter into her cauldron while Pedro julienned stalks of lauku tea on a cutting board. They had opted to make a Latvian Certe Syrup, which would pick the lock, but it would take at least ten minutes to brew. Gordy almost laughed. He and Max had this competition in the bag.
Zelda cleared her throat. “Excuse me, young Drams,” she said. “I don’t believe I’ve told either one of you to begin.”
Gordy looked up and frowned. Max was ready to hand him a pinch of grated anoa horns from a Tupperware dish, but Zelda waved him away.
“Unfortunately, neither one of you will be able to use your ingredient stores for this challenge.” Zelda hopped down from the counter and placed six small containers in front of both Gordy and Sasha. “You will be using these.”
Gordy squinted at one of the containers. “What’s this stuff?”
“Pencil shavings, dirt, grass clippings, lint, an old chewing gum wrapper, and tap water. Ingredients you might encounter anywhere in the world at any given moment. When will things line up perfectly?” she inquired rhetorically, staring at the ceiling. “I propose they won’t. Therefore, this locked-door scenario is a test of what both of you might find yourself facing one day.”
“None of those ingredients are used to open doors!” Sasha said derisively.
“Oh, really?” Zelda scrunched her nose and batted her eyelashes at Sasha. “Then perhaps you’ll fail.”
Gordy tried to clear his mind and think. As much as he would have loved to see Sasha fail, he had to admit she was right. Pencil shavings? Dirt? An old chewing gum wrapper? As far as he knew, they weren’t used in any of the potions he could make. There were some South American rain forest grasses used in certain potions, but that’s not what was in the container. Gordy sniffed the clippings. He smelled fescue.
“One day, you will find yourself in trouble,” Zelda said. “You will be alone and without the use of your precious satchels. You may not even have access to a fire source.”
“But potions need to be heated.” Sasha glanced sideways at Pedro and folded her arms across her chest.
“And you learned that where?” Zelda asked.
“From my mother, the Chamber President. Remember her?” Sasha snickered.
Gordy wasn’t sure how to react. What was Zelda trying to say? That you didn’t need fire to brew a potion? Or even the right ingredients?
“You look confused, my dear boy.” Zelda flicked something off Gordy’s shoulder with her finger. “The only thing standing between you and the other side of that door is the notion that you don’t have what you need at your disposal. False!” she chirped. “True, the right ingredients will result in the proper mixture, but all potions are comprised of the same components—liquid, mineral, chemical, herb. With the proper application of will and determination, your horizons will stretch and your limitations will cease. Am I making myself clear?”
“Are you saying I don’t need yak butter to make Certe Syrup?” Sasha asked, staring at Zelda.
“I’m saying that until you widen your gaze, you’ll never get through that barrier.” Zelda turned and pointed at the door that now stood wide open. She squawked like a clucking chicken, and Gordy noticed Max sta
nding by the door, beaming from ear to ear.
“No ingredients necessary,” Max said, waggling his eyebrows. “You left the key on your desk.”
Gordy and Pedro started laughing. It took Sasha a bit to warm up to the idea, but then she giggled as well. Zelda marched across the room, yanked the key from Max’s hand, and relocked the door.
“No more interruptions from the help, Maxwell Pinkerman,” she said, her voice pleasant but dangerous. Then she spun around, facing the two tables. “The conundrum remains. Using only those ingredients, you must find a way to leave this room through that locked door.”
Gordy sighed as his Bunsen burner fried a section of gum wrapper. It smoldered and smelled like burnt rubber. He scrubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. He was no closer to unlocking the door now than he was an hour ago, when Zelda’s lesson had begun. Max was playing a game on his phone, and Pedro snored in the corner of the room, with his socks covering his eyes. How Pedro could stand the stench was quite an accomplishment.
With an angry groan, Sasha shoved her cauldron and glowered at Zelda. “You’re wasting our time. My mom will hear about this.”
Zelda’s nose twitched. “Your mother’s watching you right now.” She gestured to the security camera nestled in the corner of the room near the ceiling, identical to the one Gordy had seen in the Brexils’ home. “But it makes no difference. Unless I’m replaced as your instructor, which I don’t think will happen, my rules are all that matters.”
“I’ve never seen my mom brew anything with dirt!” Sasha’s voice echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls. Pedro stirred on the floor, and one sweaty sock dropped from his eye.
The Transparency Tonic Page 16
