by Amy Alward
‘And there’s nothing we can do.’
‘What did the doctor say?’
‘She thinks it’s old age. There’s no potion in the world that can help – or so she says.’
Anita stares at me, her brown eyes searching my face. I cast my eyes down and take a sip of my hot chocolate. But the normal sugary goodness just turns sour in my mouth.
‘You think the doctor is wrong though, don’t you?’ she says. It’s not a question; she can read my face like a book.
I nod. ‘This is Grandad we’re talking about. He’s . . .’ I want to say invincible but saying it out loud makes it sound so wrong. I know deep down that he’s not invincible, that he is growing old and that one day he won’t be in my life. But never in a million years did I believe it could happen so soon. And never in a million years did I believe that I would start to lose pieces of him like this.
It’s too soon.
‘He is old, Sam . . .’ says Anita, tentatively.
‘You think I don’t know that?’ I snap back.
‘I’m just saying – you know I lost my great aunt to Alzheimer’s. There’s just no cure.’
‘There’s a cure for everything. It just hasn’t been found yet.’
‘Maybe.’
Anita doesn’t deserve my curt tone. I know that she’s only trying to help. But my gut churns – something doesn’t feel right. There’s a cure for everything, I think again. That has to be true. I know it in my alchemist bones. I can’t believe that just as things were going right for my family, we’ve been struck down again.
‘There’s something else . . .’ I say. I’m hesitant to talk about it with her, as I know that she’s only recently recovered from the ordeal of the Wilde Hunt. ‘I thought I smelled something rotten – metallic – at the place where my grandad fell.’
Anita’s face drains of colour and her hand starts to tremble. She quickly puts down her coffee cup to try and disguise it, but I notice. ‘You can’t mean . . .’
I shake my head rapidly. Seeing her react so strongly reminds me that I can’t just throw my assumptions around without consequences. ‘It must have been my imagination. She’s in prison. I guess I’m just looking for anything to explain what happened.’
‘Do you want to crash at my place? We could put on a movie and eat popcorn?’ she asks, quickly changing the subject.
‘No, sorry, I promised Zain I’d see him tonight – and I have to let Evelyn know I’m not going on her tour.’
‘Oh, right,’ she says, quietly. She’s not used to me having Princess Evelyn for a friend – and even less used to me having a boyfriend. I’m not used to it either. I’ve surprised myself by how much I like him. The night I spent on the mountain with Zain, I thought we were going to die. Surviving that brought us close together far quicker than I could have imagined, and now . . . I find myself thinking of him when I should be concentrating on something else. It’s as if he’s taken up permanent residence in my brain where my rational thought once lived. I used to roll my eyes at the lovesick characters in my favourite casts. But now I get it.
Still, as much as I fancy him, I know he’s not my best friend. That role is Anita’s. ‘You’re still the first person I want to talk to whenever anything happens,’ I say.
‘Make sure it stays that way!’ She winks.
‘Always,’ I say with a small grin. ‘Walk me up to the castle?’
But before we get out of our seats, a couple of men dressed in black suits and sunglasses walk into the coffee shop, stopping just inside the door. They look around the café, and when their eyes lock onto mine, they make a beeline for our table. I grab Anita’s hand and immediately look around for something I can use to defend myself. All I have is my hot chocolate mug. I grip it tightly in my fist.
‘Samantha Kemi?’ asks one of the men.
I nod, hesitantly. All eyes in the coffee shop are on us. Whoever they are, they won’t try anything here. Will they?
The man flips open an ID badge, which is embossed with the seal of the Princess.
‘We have orders from Princess Evelyn to escort you to the Palace immediately. Come with us, please.’ He extends his hand out to me.
Anita stares at the men. ‘I guess it must be important,’ she says.
I nod, then take his hand.
With a flick of his other wrist, he opens a large screen and I gasp. It’s a portable Summons. I thought it was just a rumour that they existed.
But there’s nothing of a rumour about the way an arm bursts through the Summons, grabbing me – and pulling me directly into the Palace.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Samantha
THE PALACE IS THE MAIN residence of the Royal family and its location is top secret. Even Zain doesn’t know where it is, exactly. All I know is that it hovers somewhere above Kingstown and is totally invisible from the ground.
My hot chocolate swirls uneasily in my stomach – I think I’m about to be sick (a common side effect of transporting). After allowing me a couple of deep breaths in the large hall I transport into, the men guide me towards a separate living area – this one far less formal than the other rooms inside the Palace. There’s a large TV on the wall for playing casts, and the biggest, most comfortable sofas you could imagine. It’s where me, Evelyn and Zain hang out most. I smile when I see Zain, but when he looks up at me his face is pale. He looks almost . . . guilty.
‘There you are, Sam!’ Evelyn is up off the sofa in a flash, pulling me into a hug. ‘Thank you, gentlemen. You’re dismissed,’ she says to the two men behind me.
After they leave, several things happen at once. I hear a click in the door’s lock behind me, the lights dim, and the air suddenly feels ten times thicker, like I’ve been plunged into a bowl full of honey.
‘There. Now listen – I have something important to tell you,’ says Evelyn.
My eyes flick between her and Zain. ‘Have you just . . . ?’
‘Sealed the room? Yes. We cannot be disturbed. What I’m about to say is extremely classified information.’
I swallow hard and nod. ‘Okay. Is this to do with my grandad?’
‘Yes.’ She takes up both my hands and her ice blue eyes bore into mine. ‘Emilia Thoth has escaped from Zambi.’
My legs turn to jelly, giving out from underneath me. Magic rushes past me, sliding one of the sofas into place to catch my fall. I slump into the soft cushions, but I barely feel their comfort. ‘What?! How is that possible?’ My mind is simultaneously processing the news and blocking it out. It can’t be true.
‘I’m sorry, Sam . . . I didn’t want to worry you,’ says Zain.
His words, combined with his guilty look, click into place. ‘Wait, you knew?! For how long?’
‘Someone posted it on the Wilde Hunt Theories forums but I didn’t want to worry you over some unproven rumour.’
‘So you just hid it from me.’ Anger is replacing the shock in my veins. A small voice tells me the anger is misplaced, but I tell it to shut up. ‘That woman hates my family. You put us all in danger.’
‘If you’re going to be mad at him, be mad at me too,’ says Evelyn. ‘He told me straight away and I went to the NSS.’
‘The NSS?’ I ask.
‘Novaen Secret Service. They confirmed it. And they thought they were close to recapturing her—’
‘But they haven’t caught her. Or have they?’ I interrupt.
She can’t look me in the eye. ‘No.’
I let out a cry that is half-groan, half-scream. ‘So does this have something to do with Grandad after all? Why would she come after him again? There’s no Wilde Hunt this time.’
‘That’s true, but you know all too well that until I am married, I’m still a threat to this kingdom. Even the potion you and Zain are making me is not a permanent solution. Emilia still wants my throne. She knows I’m vulnerable.’
‘Okay . . .’
Now she stares me at me, her eyes locked with mine. ‘Sam, I’m going to come straight out with
it. Did your grandad know how to make an aqua vitae?’
My mouth drops open and it takes me a moment to recover. Then my brain kicks into gear. ‘No! Of course not. No one does.’
‘What about your great-grandmother?’
I swallow hard. ‘I thought she might have. But Grandad told me it was a lie he made up to hide the fact that Cleo had just lost her touch.’ Grandad’s words from this afternoon haunt me. Find it. Maybe the lie had been a lie to stop me searching for the cure?
Evelyn nods. ‘Well, whatever the truth is, Emilia thinks your great-grandmother’s diary is worth searching for. It is the NSS’s belief that Emilia needs an aqua vitae in order to reverse the horrible changes the dark potions have wrought on her body. They’re going to visit your grandad today to confirm if she used a memory extraction potion on him.’
Memory extraction – an extremely complicated combination of spell and potion that can be used to take memories from a person’s mind. A variation of it was used on me, Zain and all the Wilde Hunt participants so that we’d forget the illegal recipe for love potions. It was one of the conditions of entering the Wilde Hunt.
The thought makes me frown. ‘But I thought memory extraction was only used if you want someone to forget something – not if you want to find something out. There’s no way to “view” someone else’s memories.’
Evelyn shrugs. ‘No way that we know of.’
‘Holy dragons,’ I say.
I think back to the horrific black veins, visible beneath Emilia’s translucent skin. The lengths she went to, in order to become Talented and an alchemist. The more terrible her magic, the more terrible her appearance. An aqua vitae could reverse all that . . . without reversing the effects of the potions. She would still be powerful. Powerful enough to overthrow the current king and queen?
Maybe.
I blink several times, willing my mind to work faster.
Find it. Find it before she does. Grandad’s words ring in my memory. Is the diary what he meant? If Emilia believes in the aqua vitae so much that she’d risk attacking my grandad in broad daylight, maybe there’s something to it after all. I think of all those people in the store, desperate for a miracle cure. I could be the one to mix it. I could save so many people. I could save my grandad.
I release a long breath and crack my knuckles. ‘I need to get to Cleo’s diary before Emilia. But I’m going to need help.’
‘I’ll be with you every step of the way,’ says Zain. I hesitate for a moment, then nod. He’s forgiven. If I’d read about Emilia on the Wilde Hunt forums, I wouldn’t have told my family either. So many unconfirmed rumours fly around those websites. I give him a small smile, and I see his shoulders relax.
‘I will help you in any way I can too,’ says Evelyn, ‘but we must keep this a secret from everyone else, okay? There’ll be mass hysteria if news about Emilia becomes public. The NSS don’t know that I’m telling you.’
‘What? Why don’t you tell them?’
‘Because if it’s true that Emilia got to your grandad, that means she’s been able to slip through our best defences. She got to Kingstown and this close to the Palace. So somewhere in Nova, someone is helping her. I can’t trust the NSS – but I can trust you. I want you to have the best chance possible. I need you to think about where to search first. Then when we go on the first leg of our tour tomorrow, I can arrange to transport you wherever you need to go.’
The reminder about the tour hits me like a punch in the gut. ‘The tour! I was supposed to tell you that I can’t come any more, because of Grandad.’
‘That’s crazy, you have to come. The tour will be the perfect cover. Can you get your parents to change their minds?’
‘I’ll try.’ I can already picture Mum’s face when I tell her. She will not be happy.
‘Just remember: not a word to them about why.’
‘Kirsty!’ I blurt out. ‘I’m going to need Kirsty. She can be discreet . . . just look at the Wilde Hunt.’
Evelyn hesitates for a moment, then nods. ‘A Finder will be good to have by your side. You can tell Kirsty.’
‘Okay, good.’ I relax, knowing that Kirsty will be there.
Then Zain asks a question that hasn’t even crossed my mind. ‘But Evelyn, what about your potion?’
My stomach turns. We were supposed to be heading on tour with Evelyn in order to mix her potion. Finding my great-grandmother’s journal might be a matter of life and death for me. But the potion is equally as important for Evelyn. If I can’t find a way for her to store her excess magic, then she will have to get married.
She’ll be stuck within a marriage of convenience, not of love. My heart aches for how unfair it is for her.
My cheeks prickle red with guilt. Thankfully, the Princess scoffs at Zain’s question. ‘What about my potion? This is bigger than me. This is about stopping Emilia once and for all – and saving Sam’s grandad.’
‘Thanks, Evelyn. And I won’t forget about your potion, I promise.’ I turn to Zain. ‘What are you going to tell your dad? He cannot know about this.’
Zain rolls his eyes. ‘My dad won’t know anything’s changed. He’s not exactly father of the year, is he?’
‘Great,’ says Evelyn. ‘It’s settled then. I’m going to lift the seal on the room or else my family will start to get suspicious.’
The air immediately becomes clearer and I take a deep breath. ‘I’d better be going. I still have so much to prepare . . .’
‘I’ll pick you up at noon tomorrow. We can go shopping and then I’ll take you to the plane,’ says Evelyn.
‘Do I still have to?’ I say. I hate how whiny I sound but dress-shopping isn’t my favourite activity even at the best of times.
‘We have to keep things looking as normal as possible. We can’t let Emilia know you’re on her tail.’
‘Okay, sounds good.’ I force a smile.
Evelyn laughs. ‘Aw, c’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll make sure of it.’
‘If you say so.’ This time I don’t disguise my grimace. Shopping. I hate it.
‘Oh, before I forget, I keep meaning to give this to you but things keep getting in the way . . .’ She hands me a package wrapped in elegant silver paper and a bright red bow. ‘This is for Molly. Can you make sure she gets it?’
‘Of course! She’ll be thrilled. Thank you, Evie. See you tomorrow.’
‘See you,’ she replies.
‘Text me later?’ Zain asks.
‘Definitely.’ I reply. He smiles and we kiss goodbye.
I grip the package tightly as I walk back to the hall with the ornate gilt-framed mirror that will serve as my transport back to the store. It’s nice to have something beautiful to hold onto in the middle of all this. It’s only just dawning on me that I’m about to go up against Emilia once more. And this time, I have to stay one step ahead of her.
She’s come after my family, and I’m not going to let her get away with it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Samantha
WHEN I GET HOME, MUM is leaning on the kitchen counter. She looks bone tired, as if it requires all her energy to remain upright. She was never that tired before the Wilde Hunt. We might have been down on our luck – but we’d been getting by. We might have had only a tiny customer base – but at least they’d been loyal. And we might not have been the great Kemi alchemists of old – but at least we’d been safe.
‘Hi, Sam.’ Mum looks up when she sees me and manages a smile.
‘Hi, Mum,’ I say. My hands are shaking. I don’t want to upset her further by telling her that the Royal Tour is back on for me. I shove my hands inside the pockets of my jeans. Mum doesn’t seem to notice, but Molly – sitting at the kitchen table – eyes me suspiciously. I try and give my best nothing-to-see-here gaze.
‘I’m glad you’re here. Your dad’s decided to stay overnight at the hospital . . .’
‘Is everything okay?’
Mum nods. ‘There’s been no change – and the doctors think Gra
ndad’s stable for now. But that’s why . . . well, your dad and I have had a chat. We’ve agreed not to pull Molly from her summer camp. She needs her life to continue as normal. And you do as well. While the store is closed, there’s nothing for you to do here, and you know what your Grandad says . . .’
Idle hands make muddled potions. Another of his old adages.
She continues: ‘. . . so we think you should stick with your plan of touring with Princess Evelyn. It will be a good learning experience for you. And if anything happens to Grandad, I’m sure the Princess will help you get back here as fast as possible.’
Even though Mum’s just given me exactly what I wanted, I can’t help but feel sad. ‘But what will you and Dad do about the store?’
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. ‘That’s for your father and me to figure out. And we will. But you two need to concentrate on your futures. And don’t you have a dress to find tomorrow, Sam? It’s good that you have something to look forward to. I know I would’ve died for the opportunity to go to the Laville Ball.’ Now her smile widens and her face lights up. The Laville Ball excites Mum and Molly far more than it does me. ‘Now, who’s tired? I think it’s early to bed for all of us . . .’
We head upstairs together. As I step into the bathroom to brush my teeth, Molly sidles up beside me. ‘Anything you want to tell me?’ she asks, as she squeezes bright green toothpaste onto her purple brush.
I shake my head and continue to brush vigorously. In the mirror, I can see her eyes narrow at me – as if somehow she’ll see the truth better in my reflection. I lean over the bowl and spit out the toothpaste. ‘Oh, I forgot – I have something to give you.’ I run into my room and find the present from Evelyn. I dash back to the bathroom. ‘Here, this is for you.’
Her eyes widen at the sight of the expensive-looking silver paper. ‘Is this from who I think it’s from?’
‘If you mean Evie, yes. Open it!’
We move into her bedroom and I close the door behind me. I grin from ear to ear as her face lights up with a huge smile. Inside is the finest pair of pure white gloves that I have ever seen. They almost seem to glow in the dim light, as if they were woven from starlight.
