“Are we finished? Did we do it?” Pedro mumbled.
“Zip it, Pedro!” Sasha snapped.
Zelda shuffled up behind Gordy and placed her hands on his shoulders. “Your time is almost up,” she said. “If you fail this assignment, I will have to place it in my report, which could delay your training for weeks or months or . . .” She shivered and smiled forlornly at Gordy. “In your case, indefinitely.”
A feeling of helplessness crept over Gordy. “This is impossible.”
“It’s not,” she answered. “You have all the necessary ingredients here”—she pointed to the containers on the table— “and here.” She poked Gordy in the temple with a fingernail. He recoiled and rubbed the side of his head with his palm. “Think about what you need. Think about the motions required. And make these ingredients work for you.”
Gordy puffed out his cheeks. He couldn’t just transform dirt into honeybee wings or lint into coneflower petals. And yet there had to be a way. Zelda had allowed this charade to go on far too long for it to be just some elaborate joke.
“Next time, Rivera can take my place,” Max said, yawning.
And then Gordy had an idea, one he knew he shouldn’t even consider entertaining. What if he Blind Batched his way out of the room? Is that what Zelda was trying to coax out of him? It hadn’t gone so well for Gordy at the Brexils’ house, but maybe this was different. Maybe while in the safe zone of the B.R.E.W. training room, Blind Batching could be an acceptable practice. However, Gordy had only ever created new potions. He didn’t know how the process would work with something that already existed. Would he just be spinning in circles?
“Time’s running out,” Zelda said with a high-pitched trill in her voice.
Max blew a raspberry with his lips. “Thank goodness.”
Sasha sighed exaggeratedly and tossed a test tube into Zelda’s eyewash sink. They were finished, and she had no intention of playing this game anymore.
Gordy closed his eyes, and the sounds in the room dimmed, even Sasha’s frustrated mumbling, but it was difficult not to think about everything that had happened recently. He had to push his mom’s being fired from B.R.E.W. and Adilene’s vanishing potion into some dark corner of his brain.
In order to leave, Gordy needed a way out.
Selecting the container of tap water, Gordy emptied half the contents into his cauldron. He turned the knob of his Bunsen burner up to a seven and sprinkled in some dirt, which he then stirred with his glass wand. The water and dirt turned to a mud, but Gordy kept the heat on high as he removed the wooden pieces from the pencil shavings with a knife and added only the graphite tips to the cauldron. Gordy imagined the doorknob to the room disassembling in his hands, the metal latch crumbling into pieces.
The graphite-mud mixture suddenly began to sparkle.
Gordy held the piece of lint under his nostrils and sensed faint traces of nickel and copper. The lint had once been in contact with coins. Gordy clasped the lint with his tongs and redirected the flame of the Bunsen burner away from his cauldron. With deft hands moving almost of their own accord, he disconnected the fuel line of the burner and doused the fuzzy substance with butane. Gordy heard Zelda cluck her tongue, which could have meant she disapproved of his technique, but he continued regardless.
Gordy then scraped the waxy coating from the gum wrapper with his fingernail and kneaded it together with the oiled piece of lint until it rolled into a tiny ball. Next, he pinched a few pieces of the grass clippings and stuck them into his mouth.
“Dude!” Max exclaimed from somewhere close by, though to Gordy it sounded as if he were several rooms away. “That probably came from a yard with a dog.”
Gordy ignored him.
With the grass gnashed to a pulp, Gordy combined the ingredients in the cauldron. Lastly, he took the knife and pricked his finger, adding a single drop of his blood to the potion.
And then he exhaled.
Gordy wasn’t entirely sure he had breathed at all during the brewing phase, but he felt winded, and his chest ached.
Wordlessly, Gordy scooped out the sparkling mixture onto a sheet of parchment paper and then moved to the door. Careful not to spill a single drop, Gordy applied the entire Blind Batched potion to the doorknob and stepped back.
He sensed the others behind him, waiting for something to happen. Even Sasha was crowding close, her whispers doubtful. But it didn’t matter what they said or thought. Gordy knew what would happen. He could feel it in his heart and see it in his mind as though it had already worked.
The knob produced a deafening pop as the potion dislodged it from the door, and it clattered to the ground. Gordy looked over his shoulder at Zelda, who stood in silence, a baffled look etching her features. He glanced at the others, who had huddled together, looking equally shocked and surprised. Then their mouths all dropped open, but they weren’t applauding. Gordy frowned and turned back to see what was wrong.
The muddy mixture had multiplied and now spread up the door, devouring wood, glass, and metal. Gordy leaped back, heart thudding in his chest as his potion traveled on, crumbling the lintel. The fluorescent lights above him shattered, and Zelda grabbed Gordy’s shoulders, pulling him out of the way as a section of ceiling toppled to the floor.
Through the doorway, Gordy could see a commotion as Elixirists fled from their offices, scrambling, bumping into each other, and reaching for vials of potions.
“I . . . I didn’t mean to—” Gordy tried to explain, but an overhead claxon unleashed a blaring emergency alarm, drowning out his voice. For the second time in one week, B.R.E.W. Headquarters was being evacuated. Only this time, it was entirely Gordy’s fault. How could this have happened? Gordy had only used basic ingredients. Was he that powerful? Or worse—was he that dangerous?
A crack split the floor and gobbled up squares of tile, traveling from the hallway into the training room beneath Gordy’s feet. He leaped to one side, grabbing Max by his collar to keep him from falling. The crack was wide enough that Gordy could see to the floor below, the main level where more Elixirists had gathered near the entryway of B.R.E.W. Headquarters.
“What did you do?” Sasha screamed. “Are you crazy?” Wires and rebar poked out from the floor, and water sprayed from busted pipes. Red lights flashed overhead as the alarm blared relentlessly.
“It was an accident!” Gordy shouted back. No way could he have done this. He had only meant to open the lock.
Through the widening crack in the floor, Gordy watched in horror as the far wall of the main entrance suddenly imploded. The Elixirists downstairs crowded together, clutching their weapons. Where would he be sent for his banishment? Antarctica? He would never survive on his own.
“Run, children!” Zelda commanded. “We are under attack.”
Smoke rose up from the collapsed wall. Gordy could see shadows in the cloud. Forms of figures appeared from the outside as a barrage of glass and colorful potions showered through the opening. At least a dozen Elixirists dropped stiff and still to the floor, while another half dozen struggled in the grasp of vines.
Sasha leaped awkwardly over the crack and tore off down a side hallway, heading in the direction of the elevators, Pedro trailing close behind. Zelda had yet to move, but she nodded at Gordy and Max.
“Keep yourself hidden,” she warned.
As Gordy grabbed Max by his sleeve and turned to leave, he saw something that made his blood run cold. There, stepping through the crater and across the threshold of B.R.E.W., was his grandfather, Mezzarix Rook.
The elevator door stood ajar, the light flickering in the ceiling, when Gordy and Max raced up to it. Gordy smashed the call button, but it didn’t work.
“Which way did Sasha go?” Max demanded.
“Probably down the emergency stairs,” Gordy suggested.
“The same stairs those lunatics are using to get up here?” Ma
x spun around wildly in circles.
Gordy heard voices growing closer, echoing up through the opening in the floor his potion had made. That couldn’t have been his grandfather, could it? He must have imagined seeing him. Although, he doubted there were too many Elixirists who bore any resemblance to Mezzarix.
Gordy looked down at his bare feet and silently cursed Zelda’s unusual training tactic. He wished he’d thought to grab his shoes and, more importantly, his potion satchel. Both remained back in the room. The room Gordy had demolished. Try as he might, he couldn’t wrap his brain around what had happened. Why were there Scourges attacking B.R.E.W. at that exact moment? How had they made it past the guards and the wards? Gordy had a sinking feeling that his Blind Batched potion had given them entry. He had unintentionally rolled out the red carpet.
Smoke rose up through the crevice in the floor like phantom fingers, and then there were heads and arms scrambling up to the second level. The corridor lit up with purple and gold light as more potions, thrown from below, smashed into the backs of several Scourges. Gordy heard shouts of anguish, but the potions only slowed them momentarily. With no time to escape through the emergency stairwell, Gordy and Max kicked open a door across the hall and slammed it shut behind them.
“What do we do?” Max shouted, digging his fingers into his hair. He jammed the back of a chair under the doorknob.
“We just need to calm down,” Gordy said. “And I don’t think that’s going to help.”
“This is what they do in movies!”
The chair swiveled free and clattered to the floor. Max shook both of his fists, the veins bulging in his neck.
Gordy looked around the room for something to use as a weapon, but they were in a regular office. There was a desk, stacks of papers, a stapler.
Max saw the stapler a second quicker than Gordy and snatched it up. He clacked off a couple of rounds of staples, which clinked silently to the floor.
“Great! You lure them in, and I’ll whack them over the head with this.” Max shook the stapler threateningly.
“They’re not here for us,” Gordy said, rushing to the window. They were on the second floor of the building, which would make it difficult to climb down to the lawn.
“What do they want?” Max asked.
Wasn’t it obvious? Maybe not to Max, but Gordy knew without any doubt. “They’re here for the Vessel.” He tried to open the window, but the latch appeared to be welded shut. Down below, outside of B.R.E.W., men and women battled the Scourges. Though from where they stood, it was impossible to tell who was fighting for or against B.R.E.W. Gordy could see splashes of bright colors as potions exploded.
“How did they get in here?” Gordy wondered. It had to have been a carefully orchestrated attack, and yet they had entered the property without any resistance from the wards. Gordy hadn’t seen any insects lapping up the protective potions.
“Gordy!” Max’s voice rose anxiously.
Gordy looked around as the door to the office opened and a woman with curly hair and golden chains stormed in. She moved rapidly, almost blurring in Gordy’s vision, and before he could react, he and Max were on the ground, entangled in vines.
“Hello, kiddos,” the woman said in a gruff voice. “You haven’t by chance seen a golfing trophy around here, have you?” She laughed like a horse, but then sputtered with recognition. “Gordy Stitser?” she asked in disbelief. “And in the first room I checked. Walsh!” she shouted over her shoulder. “Get in here!”
Gordy could hardly wiggle, and one of the vines had woven its way under his chin, clamping his mouth shut. He did, however, hear Max trying to staple the vines wrapped around his arms.
A man with grayish hair, and also decorated in gold jewelry, pushed through the door, but not before turning back to hurl an agitated bottle of Torpor Tonic at the attacker behind him. The man’s red-and-white-striped pants smoldered just below his knees, and patches of his hairy legs had been seared, leaving behind painful-looking burns beginning to blister.
“What?” the man demanded, frowning at the woman. He pawed at his legs to extinguish the fire. “Did you find it?”
“Nope,” the woman said. “But I did find a sweet consolation prize.” She pointed a ringed finger at Gordy and snickered. “He’ll be ecstatic, don’t you think?”
Walsh’s caterpillar-like eyebrows folded, and he nodded. “They’re like two pigs in a blanket, aren’t they?” He fished another vial, this one a dull-brown substance spotted with pink, out of his satchel and juked his head into the hallway. As he hauled back his arm to launch, a murky white bottle smashed into his chest, and a spiderweb wound tightly around his body. He flopped about on the floor, the web muffling his cries of frustration.
The woman unleashed a bellowing battle cry and flung herself at the door, but she tripped over Walsh as a purple bottle shattered above her. When she fell, she sank shoulder-deep into the tiled floor. She struggled momentarily, trying to wade through quicksand, but then she froze, the sand having solidified around her, leaving her looking as though she had sprouted from the floor like a curly-headed daisy.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Max shouted. “That’s Trapper Keeper!”
He was right, which could only mean one thing. Gordy freed his chin from the tightening vine enough to cheer as Aunt Priss raced into the room.
“Lolly Gittens!” Aunt Priss shook her head in disgust, staring down at the woman caught in the floor. “I’m guessing that’s your husband, Walsh, I bagged just now.”
“How long’s it been, Priscilla?” Lolly asked. “Three years? Four? You still walking on the dark side?” She cackled disturbingly, and Gordy cringed at the sound.
In response, Priss spritzed Lolly in the face with a bottle from her satchel, and the burly woman fell completely silent. Then Gordy’s aunt noticed the two boys flopping about on the floor like a couple of desperate fish.
“Looks like I arrived just in time,” she gasped, hurrying over to help. Pulling a knife from her bag, she carefully cut Gordy free from the vines. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” Gordy answered breathlessly. Lolly’s Vintreet Trap had felt like a boa constrictor around his midsection.
Max was shaking but wearing a goofy smile. “I named that,” he said.
“You what?” Priss raised her eyebrows.
Max sat up and caught his breath. “Trapper Keeper. You have me to thank for that.”
“Come on.” Priss gave each of them a hand and hoisted them up from the floor. “This place is crawling with scum.”
“How did you know we would be here?” Gordy asked.
“I didn’t know the exact location, but your mom told me you were training. As for how I knew about the attack, well, let’s just say there should be no more questions about the reliability of my source from Bolter or Zelda anymore.”
“Is my mom here?” Gordy felt a wave of hope flood through him.
Priss shook her head. “She can’t get near this place. Not until she has permission.”
“They don’t have permission!” Max pointed at Lolly’s curly-haired head.
“Which is odd, I know,” Priss said.
“We have to warn Madame Brexil!” Gordy urged. “We have to try to help her.” He wasn’t that concerned about Mrs. Brexil, but he felt a sense of responsibility to help Sasha and Pedro, who were probably hiding somewhere.
Priss held up a hand. “We’re not taking you anywhere near that woman. The Chamber President thinks you’re in on the invasion. You and your mom. Madame Brexil has already issued a warrant for your arrest.”
“How did she do that so fast?” Max asked. “We just saw her an hour ago.”
“That woman follows her own set of rules. Goodness knows why she blames you, Gordy, but until we can reason with the Chamber of Directors, getting you clear of headquarters is our only option.”
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Gordy swallowed. He knew exactly why Madame Brexil had pinned this on him. She had been watching through the cameras and saw how his potion had opened the door to let the Scourges into B.R.E.W. If Gordy had been in her position, he would’ve come to the same conclusion.
“They’re after the Vessel, aren’t they?” Gordy asked.
“They won’t find it here. The Chamber moved it weeks ago.” Priss shot a glance toward the door and selected a flask from her satchel. After instructing Gordy and Max to take cover behind the desk, she launched an amber-colored potion at the window. The glass instantly melted, dripping down like maple syrup. Then she uncorked a Vintreet Trap and hurriedly added a few ingredients for modification. Pressing her thumb against the mouth of the vial, she agitated the mixture and then poured out the green liquid. As soon as the Vintreet Trap made contact with the tile floor, it transformed into one long, pliable length of vine.
She handed Max one end of the vine. “Tie that around the leg of the desk,” she instructed.
“That won’t hold,” Gordy said, as his aunt tossed the other end out the window. The vine unraveled to the ground below, becoming taut once it reached its limit and pulling the desk almost a foot toward the window.
“It’ll be fine because I’ll be guiding you down,” she answered. “Now hurry up. There’ll be plenty more Scourges where those two came from.”
“And Grandpa too!” Gordy erupted. “He’s here as well.”
Priss fixed him with a confused expression. “Your Grandpa Stitser is at B.R.E.W.?”
Gordy shook his head. “Grandpa Rook.”
Priss grimaced. “I don’t think so.” She nudged him toward the window and coached him on how to handle the vine on the way down. “It’s sticky enough so you shouldn’t fall, but watch your footing.”
“I’m no good at rappelling.” Max leaned cautiously out the window, his face contorted with concern. “I’ll drop like a boulder.”
“Would you rather tag along with me as I clear Scourges from the building?” Priss offered.
The Transparency Tonic Page 17
