by Gina LaManna
All of it was a haze. I could feel nothing, see nothing.
When my father clasped my hand, raised it, and forced me to wave to the crowd, I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t process any of it.
The only thing I could see was Liam, watching from the wings, a heavy sorrow in his eyes.
Then my father launched into his speech, and I was guided to sit down by one of the many guards on stage. I sat, tucking the dress around me, struggling to remember the plan. The escape. I’d formulated a backup plan for a distraction. It would be risky, but it was better than staying here another night.
Lucian spoke about this being a proud moment for him, a moment in which he could bring his daughter by his side to help with the cause. Then, he asked if I would say a few words.
I moved forward, almost sedated by shock. There were no words for me to say, nothing that would make this moment go away. Nothing.
I stepped up to the microphone, a sea of bright, anticipating faces waiting for me to speak high praises of my father. Clearing my throat, I fought back a wave of nausea. All I could think of was the hurt and pain that misunderstandings had caused—secrets buried, lives taken. Then my thoughts turned to Belinda offering herself in place of Peter, who’d already offered himself—for me. For something larger than himself.
The tiniest flame began to burn again, the foundations of everything I believed still there, albeit shaken. Looking out over the crowd, I sought for a familiar face, just one, but there were none. Until I saw Liam, still waiting, watching from the wings—a man I’d considered my friend, now the right hand of the enemy.
“Tonight,” I said, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “I came here—”
A low, distant rumble began. I hesitated, cast a glance behind me, but nobody else seemed to notice. They were too focused on the speech, too caught up in the excitement.
A thrill ran through me. I couldn’t explain why, but something was happening. Belinda had pulled through. I knew it. I just had to stall, until—
The rumbling grew louder, and a murmur of unease rose through the crowd. Mere seconds later, the room began to shake, regal marble columns near the back began to topple, and screams of fear replaced those of excitement.
Curtains tore, statues tumbled, artwork shuddered and slipped from the wall.
The distraction had arrived.
For the first breath, everyone stopped, watching the surroundings crumble around us.
And then, the room melted into chaos.
“Lily!” Liam yelled through it all.
I glanced behind me, saw understanding in my father’s eyes as terror rose through the congregation, and I made my move. Slipping one hand into my dress I pulled out the vial for Poppy’s potion and took a sip, willing myself to be a guard.
At the same time, I leapt from the stage and into the pandemonium below.
The time had come for escape.
Chapter 32
A SUGARY SWEETNESS slipped down my throat and into my stomach as the potion began its work. A sizzling sensation, and then the morphing of my clothing to resemble that of the guards.
Unfortunately, I had yet to see a female guard, so my clothing resembled a man’s outfit—black pants, black shirt. Thankfully, they wore hats, which allowed me to hide my hair and shield part of my face underneath the rim.
Nobody noticed the change—everyone in the crowd scrambled for exits, clawing past one another to be first from the building. A few cries of help came my way as people pleaded for answers from the guards.
I didn’t listen to any of them. I moved swiftly toward the right side of the room as we’d first planned. Belinda must’ve come up with a distraction, and I hoped she’d managed a way to join the escape.
For now, though, we were all on our own. We were each responsible for making it to the meeting place. Anyone who didn’t make it would be left behind.
In the panic, I was jostled left and right, received an elbow to the gut, and a stomp on the foot. It was nearly impossible to follow a straight line, and my trajectory ended up curved and jagged.
“Guard,” a voice murmured quietly. “Guard, help.”
My eyes flashed to my right toward the sound of the voice. It was Manuel, and he had a half-smile on his face.
“That way’s the exit,” I murmured. “Are the other guards coming?”
“We’re all en route,” he said, then chanced a wink through the chaos. “Nice work, Mixologist.”
We separated, moving in the same direction, ducking and dodging the rest of the chaos as the rumbling grew louder still, and chunks of the gorgeously painted ceiling began to crumble.
Whoever had launched the distraction should be proud; it had worked better than anticipated. We were close, so close...close enough to see the door.
My heart pumped, and I wondered if possibly, maybe, this would work. I rested my hands at my waist to feel the comfort of the vials. The travel belt had remained secure when my dress had morphed into the guard costume.
Our time, however, was running out. The guard costumes would only work for another few minutes. I hadn’t had enough potion to go around to last any longer, so we needed to move.
The door loomed before me, just paces away.
Jonathon appeared to my left, another cheeky wink coming from his direction as he spoke. “The guards are gathering outside. You’re the last one. Let’s move, Locke.”
A sense of relief seeped through my veins as I nodded. “Good.”
He ducked through the door first. I hung back one last second, glancing toward the stage. Lucian was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Liam. Pandemonium raged onward as a chandelier swung back and forth from the ceiling before crashing to the floor in the center of the room.
Turning from the chaos, I stepped outside of the castle.
“Lily.” A hand grasped my wrist firmly and pulled me to the side. “Wait.”
I blinked, heart racing, to find Liam standing before me. He looked ragged. Concern lined his face.
“Get away,” I whispered. “I trusted you.”
“I can explain.”
“I don’t have time,” I said, a slight tingling starting at the back of my scalp signaling the potion leaving my blood. “You don’t have to explain, just...leave me alone.”
“I’m here to help you,” he said, his voice flat. He neither pleaded nor begged, simply spoke. “You have to trust me. This is for the best.”
“What’s best is for you to let go of me.”
Liam’s eyebrows knitted together, his face, normally handsome and assured, struggled to stay calm. His hand gripped mine tightly and squeezed harder. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it and backed away, letting my hand drop.
I allowed myself a single look back at him, and then I turned and pressed onward. Fighting not to glance over my shoulder, I moved quickly to the meeting place Manuel had suggested, a small garden near the side of the building that was shielded by rows of tall, thick pines. I stepped under the trellis, pushed through hanging vines, and found a group of ten individuals waiting for me.
Manuel stepped forward and gestured to the group around us. I recognized Poppy, Magdalena Sprite, Jonathon, Drew, Bartholomew, and Belinda. A wave of relief came at the sight of these familiar faces. Three others had joined them, all wearing the traditional prisoner garb.
Absent, of course, was Peter.
“Belinda, how did you...?”
“The distraction wasn’t mine,” she said with a shake of her head. “I had prepared something, not to this effect, but before I could set off my plan...this happened.”
“Then who set off the bomb?”
The group looked around at one another, but nobody had an answer.
“We’ll figure it out later,” I said. “Everyone ready? This is the riskiest part. Just remember: they can’t hurt you.”
One by one, the guard outfits began to fade. I’d already lost my hat, and my uniform was slowly turning a faint blue shade that meant it was wel
l on its way to returning to its original ball gown state.
“Everyone remember their routes?” Jonathon asked, the strategist behind this piece of the journey. “Stay the course, no matter what. If anyone doesn’t make it...just keep going. We’ll meet at the designated location. Lily, do you have everything you need?”
I brushed my hand against my waist, feeling the vial with the antidote that would hopefully give us just enough juice to break the curse. We only needed time and space for the ten of us to slip through; it should be enough, but we wouldn’t know until we tried.
“I don’t want to leave Peter behind,” I said, feeling a pull to go back to the castle. “The others.”
“We’ll need to come back,” Manuel said. “Stay the course, Lily. The only way to help them is to get out of here, and then come back. Returning to the castle will not help anything. The islanders need you there.”
“Who’s Lily?” Poppy asked, dazed as she stared around the circle. “Is that my name?”
My heart twisted. “Poppy,” I said. “Your name is Poppy. I’m your cousin, Lily.”
She chewed on it for a moment, but not a slice of recognition passed through her eyes.
“I’ve altered the routes to fit the updated distraction,” Jonathon said. “Manuel is the strongest, so he’ll go with Poppy. We must move before the costumes disappear. The farther we get before they revert, the better.”
I swallowed and nodded, then I moved to Poppy and asked her for a hug. With a confused, loopy grin, she smiled and put her arms around me. I blinked away tears, savoring the familiar moment.
Then, I stepped back and surveyed the group. “Let’s go.”
One by one, we spread to the edges of the garden. We all had different routes to take through the castle grounds, all of them emerging at a discreet corner of the city limits where the curse met the land. The place where, if my antidote worked correctly, we would escape.
On Jonathon’s signal, the mass exodus began. First Bartholomew and Belinda, then Manuel and Poppy.
Two by two, pairs left the garden and started on their paths, hunched to keep out of sight for as long as possible. Jonathon had created all the routes and designed them to spread the guards of the castle as thin as possible.
If we all made it, it would be close to a miracle.
“Ready?” Jonathon raised his eyebrow, having paired himself with me. “We’re due to get there first. It should give you a few minutes to prepare the potion before the others arrive.”
I nodded as my costume slowly bled from black to blue. I’d be running in a dress in minutes. “Wait.” I kicked off my shoes, which would soon transform back into high heels. “Okay, now we can go.”
Jonathon gave a grim smile, but a layer of excitement twinkled in his eyes. Underneath the severity of all this, there was a hint of adventure, of risk, of challenge that he was obviously thriving on.
“Right this way, Miss Locke.” He pushed two small trees apart and stuck his head through. When he determined the coast was clear, he waved for me to follow. “Stay close. If anything happens—”
“Go,” I interrupted. “We’ll talk later.”
He laughed. “I like having you around, Miss Locke.”
“Lily.”
He hesitated just before stepping through and extended a hand. “Lily.”
We shook, but I watched him in confusion. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s been a pleasure to know you during our short time together.”
“Jonathon—”
“The guards are heading to the garden, right on schedule,” he said, then snapped his fingers. “Damn, I’m a good strategist. Follow closely.”
I did as he said, staying close behind as Jonathon weaved his way through gorgeously manicured castle grounds. Under a sparkling sun, this place would dazzle. Under the darkness of curses, it spooked.
As we moved from the castle grounds to the city surrounding it, the town created to support Wishery, I hesitated for a glimpse back. Made from glass the pale blue of Cinderella’s slipper, the castle glistened and winked, even under the raging black shadows. Cute cottages, quaint shops, little parks and bakeries and flower gardens lined every street. The view filled me with wonder.
We made our way in and out of the abandoned homes and shops. It hadn’t taken long for this place to go from a bustling, charming space to a ghost town filled with whispers, shadows, something darker lurking behind every nook and cranny.
“We’re a bit ahead of schedule,” Jonathon said, looking up at the skies as he picked the lock to an abandoned Sweet Shop. “The rest of the guards will be getting called to the castle now, and our path will open up in just a second...”
“Jonathon. Why’d you pair yourself with me?”
He glanced in my direction. “I made the plan; I knew it best. Figured I should be with the Mixologist.”
“In case of what?” I shook my head. “Everyone’s getting out of here. If you have some other plan underneath this, I forbid it. I won’t let it happen.”
“You’d make for a great gamer yourself,” he said with a wink. “No time to talk. Let’s move. After these next few blocks, we’ll be at the rendezvous point.”
“Jonathon—”
He grabbed my wrist, pulled me through the back of the candy store, swiping a stick of licorice along the way. “Energy,” he said by way of explanation.
We exited through the back, snaking through a confusing series of alleys and continuing until the city center gave way to a more rolling countryside where houses were scattered fewer and farther between.
“See that line of trees?” Jonathon asked. “That’s it, just behind them. It’ll provide a bit of protection, hopefully long enough to get everything set up.”
I nodded, palms slick with sweat.
“The second we leave here,” Jonathon said, gesturing to the bale of hay we’d taken shelter behind, “the situation becomes a ticking clock. You have no more than seven minutes to get your potion working and everyone through that hole.”
“Understood.”
“Lily?” Jonathon waited until I met his gaze, and then smiled. “Good luck.”
Before I could respond, he bolted, and I had no choice but to follow. I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me, tumbling once into a hole. Jonathon didn’t hesitate, stopping to haul me out of the divot before continuing on his way.
My uniform had faded back to the ball gown now, and it whipped in the breeze along with my hair. The wind picked up, the storm cracking around us with the curse close enough to touch. My skirt was ripped into shreds, my face heated, and I had scratches on my arms from snaking behind buildings and stumbling through trees.
“Here,” Jonathon breathed. “Go.”
We slipped behind a row of evergreens as what remained of my skirt billowed around me. It took all my might to control my clothes as I fished for the vials tucked into my travel belt.
Pulling them loose, I called for Jonathon to hold the first one.
He shook his head, not hearing. The wind whisked around us, screeching, screaming, turning and churning as wisps of black hurtled through the air. I hadn’t anticipated a tornado, and these gale force winds wreaked havoc as I tried to pour the silver into the rest of the potion.
“Come on,” I whispered as a tiny fleck escaped and landed on the ground. I couldn’t waste so much as a breath, or everything would fall apart. “Come on...there. It’s mixed.”
Jonathon couldn’t hear a word I said, but he caught the look on my face as I held up the vial. At the same time, Belinda and Bartholomew arrived, hand in hand, their faces red and chests puffing from exertion.
“Are we first?” Bartholomew yelled.
I couldn’t hear him, but I could read his lips, and I nodded. Then I gestured for him to stand back as I approached the edge of the Wishery magic, the angry dome over the city, and set down the vial. I whispered the words to invoke the antidote, then pushed it closer to the blackness. An inch closer, and then it
began.
The potion invoked with a curl of smoke, purplish in color, and began to wind its way upward. Magdalena Sprite and Drew arrived next, eyes glowing as they pointed toward the vial and watched in awe as it began to work.
The smoke grew and grew as another pair arrived. With eight of us present, the only pair missing was Poppy and Manuel. Meanwhile, the purple smoke rose like a snake, coiled, and eventually spread to the blackness around it.
Little puffs of white followed wherever the purple contacted the black, the antidote absorbing bits and pieces, little by little, of the curse.
“Where’s Poppy?” I asked, yelling into Jonathon’s ear. “She was supposed to arrive after Magdalena!”
He thumbed over his shoulder where, in the far distance, Poppy hobbled against Manuel’s shoulder. “I’m going to help them. Get everyone else through.”
By now, the antidote had opened a hole in the curse the size of a small circle. I gestured wildly for the others to approach and gathered them into a line.
I waited, counting under my breath for the moment it would be safe to press through. Finally, I reached the count of seven and, true to plan, the hole in the curse was large enough.
“Belinda, you’re first!” I waved her through. “When you’re on the other side—listen to me, Belinda—”
Belinda’s lips trembled, but she nodded.
“Make a wish,” I said, my voice nearly a shout. “A true wish on the first star you see. Wish harder than anything you’ve ever wished for, and ask for help from Wishery. Specifically, ask for Lizzie and Ainsley. Got it? Wish on a star, Belinda.”
She nodded again, bit her lip, and squeezed my hand. Then, she took one step through and vanished to the other side. The air shimmered, bounced back like a bubble, and then righted itself.
The vial continued to smoke on the ground, already halfway gone. I nudged it closer to the curse with my foot. “We’ve got to move faster! Bartholomew, you’re up.”
The makeup artist went through next, then Magdalena and Drew. The other pair was just disappearing as the vial began to splutter.
