“What about him?”
“Once we begin, the city will be overturned. I cannot be held responsible for every Scourge attack,” she said. “There will be casualties.”
“Which is to be expected,” Mezzarix agreed.
“And what happens if the members of your family are caught in the cross fire?”
Mezzarix stroked his chin. “Should it come to that, I shall understand. You have my permission to take any means necessary to ensure the job is done. But I have no concerns about the boy’s welfare. I feel confident in his abilities to endure.”
“What makes you so sure he’ll go unharmed?”
“Because deep beneath his exterior, Gordy Stitser is a Rook.” Mezzarix smiled, carefully wrapping the wooden object within the cloth again. “And Rooks have always found a way to survive.”
A black-browed female mallemuck unleashed a cackle as she dipped through a patch of cloud hovering above Águila Islet, an island five hundred miles north of Antarctica. The bird landed clumsily upon the only spot of earth not blanketed by snow and promptly spouted water from her beak. Hobbling back and forth, the mallemuck flapped her wings anxiously, and though capable, the bird did not immediately take flight.
“What’s that you brought me?” a raspy voice sounded from close by.
The mallemuck leaped backward, screeching in fright, beady eyes concentrating on the figure emerging from behind a boulder.
“Easy, love.” The man wore tanned animal skins, and his salt-crusted hair hung about his gaunt face in ratted clumps. The patch over his right eye bulged to a point beneath his brow, while his left eye barely peeked out from a sunburned lid. A slew of freshly scabbed wounds pocked his bare feet.
The bird launched upward, beating her wings against the wind before settling once more upon the ground.
“Steady now.” The man extended a hand toward the frightened creature. “You can’t have flown all this way to just tuck off without no more than a squawk.”
He sprung upon the mallemuck, pinning her to the ground with his powerful hands. As she struggled against him, the man’s deft fingers slipped beneath her left wing, unlatching a wooden tube.
“Thought you were acting odd.” He pried a tiny lid from one end of the tube, and the mallemuck jabbed her beak into the man’s thumb. The man paid no attention despite the thin stream of blood seeping from the wound.
The bird wriggled free of his grasp but still refused to fly away.
Eyeballing the creature curiously, the man unrolled the unexpectedly long message.
Steffan Musk,
Based upon your good behavior, the terms of your Banishment will be lifted temporarily for one week of freedom. Compliments of B.R.E.W.’s newest Chamber President.
Steffan scowled, his single eye narrowing to a slit.
“Week of freedom?” he asked gruffly. Seeing how his Banishment had been a life sentence, that made little sense. And what good behavior had he done to garner such leniency?
Consider this an opportunity to travel to balmier climates or make a quick pit stop to nearby civilization to gather much-needed supplies. Surely someone of your expertise could benefit from a cauldron and an inventory of fresh ingredients.
However, should you feel the itching for immediate work, I am in need of some hired help. Perhaps you and I might collaborate once more for old time’s sake. I, in turn, shall reward you by ending your Banishment for good.
This message couldn’t be real. Flipping over the parchment, he read the scrawling signature written in purple ink at the end of the letter.
“Mezzarix Rook,” Steffan muttered. “What are you playing at, you sly fox?”
Mezzarix had always been ambitious, with lofty aspirations of seizing power over the potion-making community, but the old fool had been banished a year before Steffan had. And now he had somehow escaped and become the Chamber President of B.R.E.W.?
“You expect me to believe this?” Steffan asked the bird, crinkling the paper in his fingers.
The mallemuck responded with a piercing cry.
Flipping the message over once more, he continued reading.
I expect you’ll find it difficult to believe me at first. For that reason, I’m giving you twenty-four hours to ponder the terms of our agreement. After that, you’ll feel the binding cords of your Banishment unravel. Then you shall have one week to spend as you wish—either lazily relaxing on holiday or venturing north to join me.
You and I shared a vision once. A vision of chaos. The world we live in has been hampered for far too long by those who have never known of our greatness. I stand at the precipice, on the verge of realizing my Manifesto, and I have chosen you to be there with me. I hope you will accept my offer.
To help with your decision, I’ve also sent you a gift. Just say the magic word: Upsy-daisy.
Steffan scowled as he scanned the ground in search of Mezzarix’s present. There didn’t appear to be anything else strapped to the bird.
“Upsy-daisy?” he mumbled.
The mallemuck immediately began to gag as if it had swallowed an enormous acorn. Baffled, Steffan watched as the bird writhed and wriggled. Something dislodged from its throat, and it spat out a slender piece of wood from its beak.
“What the devil?” Steffan recoiled in disgust.
The mallemuck shook its head, dazed.
Steffan snatched up the bird and crammed it into the pouch attached at his waist. The mallemuck squawked in protest, but Steffan ignored its cries. He knelt down to examine the object.
“Is this what I think it is?” It certainly looked as though it possessed the necessary chemically enhanced runes carved into the wood. But how on earth had Mezzarix come into possession of such a thing? They were only used by the upper echelon of B.R.E.W. Maybe he really was the new Chamber President. The thought was enough to make Steffan’s head explode.
Be careful how you wield it, as its effects are irreversible. And while I’m sure you have a long list of enemies, I’m giving this gift to you with the hope you will use it on targets we both can agree upon.
It had been several years since Steffan had thought of confronting his enemies. Lifetime Banishments had a way of dulling the senses, but now he felt a sudden burning hatred ignite within his heart. This was his chance for freedom and revenge. Clasping the weapon in his hand, he could feel the dangerous power coursing through the wood.
Lip curling into a snarl, Steffan turned to head toward his shelter. Though his supply was limited, there were a few vials and ingredients he needed to gather before he embarked on his journey.
He felt the soft fluttering of the mallemuck’s wings from inside his pouch, and his stomach gurgled, reminding him of his hunger. Then he realized there was still one final paragraph remaining of Mezzarix’s message.
I do hope you have held off butchering the poor bird that delivered this gift to you. She has been charged with gathering a few more necessities for you in the days to come—potions and ingredients that will help speed you on your journey. Be gentle with her as she will do this task willingly. And she will be your guide to your destination, so take care of her. It is a big ocean, my friend. I would hate for you to lose your way.
Steffan groaned in annoyance. Most birds he encountered on his island had too sharp of instincts to be caught without a fight. This one had been practically hand-delivered to his doorstep.
Now what was he supposed to eat?
I need some of your blood.”
Adilene Rivera heard the voice behind her and knew who it belonged to, but that didn’t make what was said any less creepy.
“You . . . you need my what?” Adilene closed her locker and spun around.
Sasha Brexil showcased a confident smile, her teeth practically sparkling. “I said I need some of your blood.” Her tone sounded casual, but she did lower her voice, as sev
eral other students moved down the hall toward their first-period classes.
Adilene immediately noted that Sasha was wearing a dress, makeup, and bright golden earrings. She had worn those sorts of things at the beginning of the school year, but all that had changed the moment her mom had been ExSponged by Mezzarix. Gone was the sassy, perfectly manicured Sasha. In her place was a broken girl with a nasty temper and a short fuse who wore sweats to school and sunglasses to hide her wet eyes from everyone else.
But today the old Sasha was back.
“I figured it out.” Sasha leaned in close to Adilene.
Adilene could smell spearmint gum on Sasha’s breath as she smacked her lips, chomping noisily. She pressed her back against the lockers, feeling the combination lock digging into her shoulder.
“The tracking potion,” Sasha said before Adilene could ask. “Well, not the tracking potion. That one’s worthless. I don’t know how my mom managed to destroy the most important steps of the recipe, but I’m getting nowhere with it. But I found a new one. It should work if I have the right ingredients.”
Over the past couple of weeks, Sasha had been obsessed with finding a way to pinpoint where Mezzarix had taken the Vessel. Her mom had had a recipe, but most of the instructions had somehow been lost. And since she no longer had any potion-making ability, or even any memory of how to brew, Mrs. Brexil’s incomplete tracking potion was impossible to recreate.
Adilene knew Sasha was waiting for Gordy to come back to town, because she believed he had the ability to fill in the missing pieces, but the girl was too impatient and determined to figure the potion out herself. With her mom’s ExSpongement, the Brexils had lost their prestigious position within the potion-making community, and Sasha had lost most of her edge.
“Okay . . .” Adilene cast a wary glance around the hallway. “But what does that have to do with me?”
“You drank a whole vial of Silt. This new tracking potion works like a magnet. It can take a sample of any substance and lead you to where more can be found. And since we’re certain Silt doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world . . .” She clicked her tongue and beamed with enthusiasm. “There you go. Problem solved.”
“Where did you find this recipe again?”
“Online,” Sasha answered.
“You can find them online?” Adilene asked, suddenly interested. She had never thought to turn to the internet for potion recipes. “I mean, you know, ones that actually work?”
“Um, yeah. If you know where to look. This potion is not exactly legal with B.R.E.W, but like I care anymore.” Sasha glanced down at her fingernails. They had also been painted recently. Discovering this lead had clearly breathed new life back into her.
“Sounds tricky. What do you need to make it?” An illegal potion probably required illegal ingredients. Sasha may have been harboring ill feelings toward B.R.E.W. because of what happened to her mother, but Adilene doubted she suddenly had access to those types of substances.
Sasha smirked. “You’re not seriously questioning my ability, are you? I’m almost an Elixirist—something you’ll never be—and I have practically everything I need. I’m just missing one key ingredient.” She raised her eyebrows at Adilene, her glare vanishing in an instant and replaced by one of faux innocence. “Dearest Adilene, won’t you help me? You’re the only one who has swallowed Silt.”
“Gordy drank some,” Adilene reasoned. “And his mom and—”
Sasha held up her hand impatiently. “I meant the only one . . . here.” She jabbed a finger at the floor. “If Gordy really wanted to help, he would’ve come back, and I wouldn’t be forced to take these measures. So, I’m sorry, but I’m going to need your blood.”
“Whoa!” Max suddenly rounded the corner from a side hallway and strolled up to the two girls. “Did you just ask her for her blood?”
“Shut up, Maxwell!” Adilene hissed as a few other students turned their heads toward them. Gordy would have thrown a fit at how blatantly indiscreet the three of them were being. They were breaking the first rule of an Elixirist: never draw unnecessary attention to the potion community. Adilene had the rules memorized.
Max laughed maniacally, then deepened his voice. “And so it begins! Sasha’s final transformation into a vampire! I knew we were close.” He pressed his hands together as if praying and closed his eyes. “I could sense it among the stars.”
Sasha glowered at him, but she didn’t seem to care that several of her classmates could hear the conversation. “You are a moron,” she said.
“A moron?” Max looked appalled. “Yeah, well you . . . are a pupitre.”
Sasha opened her mouth but then screwed up her face in confusion, glancing at Adilene for an explanation.
Adilene rolled her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Max.”
Max grinned with pride. “I know exactly what I’m saying.”
“You just called her a desk.”
“Exactly.” He leaned into the lockers, the clink of glass bottles suddenly loud in the hallway.
Adilene noticed that Max’s backpack seemed more jam-packed than usual. “What did you bring with you?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.
Max’s eyes shifted between the two girls, and he turned away, but Adilene grabbed his backpack by the straps and removed it from his shoulders.
“Hey!” he shouted, but she had already unzipped one of the pockets, revealing at least half a dozen corked vials of various substances tucked inside.
“What do you think you’re doing with these?” Adilene asked.
“I made them,” he said. He lunged for the pack, but she pulled it away from his grasp.
“You made them?” Sasha snatched one of the bottles and removed the cork stopper, sniffing the opening. Gagging, she immediately held it out in disgust. “I’m pretty sure this is essence of choresine.”
“Yeah, I know. I made it,” Max said. “Corta . . . uh . . . cortisone.”
Sasha rolled her eyes and recorked the bottle. “Not cortisone—choresine. And it’s not a potion, dummy. It’s a highly toxic poison found in a beetle from New Guinea.”
“Really?” Max gaped eagerly at the vial. “How toxic? Are we talking, like, melt-off-your-skin toxic?”
“Where did you get these?” Adilene eyed the other bottles in the pocket. Some were fizzing and bubbling, while others were letting off steam beneath their lids and rattling their corks. None of the potions were labeled. They could have been anything, and Max wouldn’t have had a clue of their contents.
Max puffed out his cheeks, obviously preparing some sort of lie, when Sasha grabbed his arm with her fingers and started pinching.
“All right, all right!” he shouted in pain, shaking his arm free from her grasp. “I got them from Gordy’s, okay?”
“From Gordy’s?” Adilene looked appalled. “What were you doing there?”
“What?” Max rubbed his arm, glaring at Sasha. “I know the garage code. I went there hoping to . . .” He trailed off.
“Hoping to what?” Sasha held out her fingers, threatening to pinch again.
“Hoping to find my rock,” Max finally answered.
Adilene frowned. “Your rock?” Then she nodded, understanding. “You mean Cadence’s rock. Max, Mezzarix took it with him. It’s gone.”
“Yeah, I know, but I was in the area, and I forgot, okay? And then I was hungry and I started thinking about all the snacks the Stitsers always have in their pantry, so I went inside anyway. It’s not like they’re coming back anytime soon.”
“Do you realize you could’ve been caught by B.R.E.W. and questioned about Gordy?” Adilene said.
Max rolled his eyes. “No one was there. The house was empty, and besides, it was the middle of the afternoon. Who breaks into someone’s house in the middle of the afternoon?”
“You do,” Sasha answered, folding her ar
ms.
Max chuckled. “In and out, two minutes flat. Like a ninja! And the lab had already been ransacked, but I know where Gordy keeps the good stuff—in his closet. I just wanted to make sure we were armed if something bad were to happen.”
A warning bell rang, and Adilene’s eyes shot up to the hallway clock on the wall. “I’ve got to go. I can’t be tardy.”
Max reluctantly surrendered his stolen potions to Sasha, who wouldn’t let him sneak by. He muttered something in Spanish under his breath, though Adilene wasn’t sure it was an actual word. Max was horrible at Spanish. He shouldered his way past them and disappeared back around the corner. Adilene turned to leave as well, but Sasha stepped in front, blocking her path.
“Not so fast, friend,” she said. “We are friends now, aren’t we?”
“I guess.” More like mutual acquaintances. Most of their interactions ended with Sasha insulting Adilene in some way.
“Friends help each other, so you have to help me.”
“And give you my blood? Right here?”
“No, of course not,” Sasha answered. “We’ll meet somewhere tomorrow night. That way no one will find out. You can even set the rendezvous point if that makes you feel better.”
“It doesn’t,” Adilene said. “I don’t think I can do this.” How would Sasha even extract her blood? With a needle? It sounded sketchy.
“It’s not going to hurt, and yes, you can do this. Because you wouldn’t be just helping me. You’d be doing it to stop Mezzarix, and that helps Gordy too.” Sasha pouted, her lips puckering into a hopeful expression. “Poor Gordy. Whatever will he do without his brave Adilene?”
“You’re doing a horrible job of convincing me.” Adilene started to push past her.
“All right, fine. Don’t do it for honor. Do it for money. I can pay you.”
Adilene scoffed. “I don’t want your money.”
“How about I do your homework for a month? No—for the rest of the year. I get straight As, and you know my father’s the big cheese around here.”
The Seeking Serum Page 4
