The Seeking Serum

by Frank L. Cole

  Sasha’s dad wasn’t an Elixirist, but he was the principal at Kipland Middle School. At least he was for now. Adilene had heard rumors spreading through the school that Mr. Brexil’s time at Kipland may be running out.

  “I don’t need you to do my homework either.” Adilene didn’t mind doing homework. It was the only thing she could do now that Gordy and all access to his lab were gone.

  Sasha had a point, though. Locating the Vessel meant they would be able to find Mezzarix and stop whatever horrible things he was planning. And there was one other thing. Adilene thought of at least one favor she could ask of Sasha that would maybe make it worth it.

  Closing her eyes, she sighed. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  Sasha grinned. “I knew you would.”

  “I’ll text you later with the address of where we’ll meet,” Adilene said. “And I have a request in exchange for my, you know . . . my blood.” It felt weird saying it.

  “Name it,” Sasha said. “I’m good for it.”

  Adilene hugged her backpack and nodded. “I’ll text that to you later as well.”

  Gordy had taken potions that had transformed his body before. He’d once taken on the appearance of a hideous beast, large and blubbery, trailing slime. The effects of that potion hadn’t lasted long, but he could still remember how it felt being heavier and discombobulated. Gordy had recently turned invisible as well, after ingesting less than an ounce of Adilene’s Silt. But aside from translucent skin, that potion had left Gordy in pretty much the same condition.

  Tonight, however, was the first time Gordy had ever transformed into someone else. An actual someone, as though he had suddenly become some kind of body snatcher. Gordy now had dark-brown skin with coarse hair carpeting his forearms. Muscular forearms. He had never really had muscles before. He wasn’t a weakling, but he was only thirteen years old.

  He wore baggy cargo pants, a camouflage jacket, and combat boots. Clearing his throat, Gordy’s voice came out deep and raspy. He wished he had his phone so he could snap a picture and send it to Max. But Gordy’s mom had refused to let him take any of his personal belongings, other than his potion satchel, with him.

  “Knock it off!” Mrs. Stitser stood a few paces away, gazing off into the foggy darkness and leaning on the brick wall between a vacated building and a row of dying bushes. Like Gordy, his mom looked nothing like herself. She was still female in appearance but considerably wider and more compact, with a hawkish nose that looked sharp enough to puncture a tin can and cropped, raven-black hair. Clenching her hands, she shot a beady-eyed glare at Gordy. “Eyes up, and no goofing around, Scheel.”

  Scheel. That was Gordy’s code name for this mission. It had belonged to one of Aunt Priss’s former acquaintances, someone she had done business with in the Swigs, and someone who was abroad in the Middle East at the moment. Until they were back at Tobias’s farmhouse, Gordy was to be addressed as Scheel while his mom was to be called Akerberg. The real Akerberg had been ExSponged by Madame Brexil three months ago and exiled to an island off the coast of Cape Horn, South Africa, so there was no chance she’d suddenly pop up in the parking lot that night.

  “Got it,” Gordy muttered, his voice sounding like a belching toad. He almost snorted with laughter again but managed to gain control before seriously upsetting his mom. She held the vial of Torpor Tonic so tightly in her hands Gordy feared she might shatter the glass and knock herself unconscious. Though maybe then his mom might actually settle down.

  Earlier that afternoon, they had told Carlisle he was no longer a prisoner at Tobias’s home, and he was asked to leave. For the first time since his capture, Carlisle had shown a hint of emotion, even more so than when Ms. Bimini had blamed him for everything that had gone wrong in her life. When he learned he was free to go, Carlisle had appeared confused, but not in his normal space-cadet way. It seemed almost as though he had no desire to leave, that he actually enjoyed staying cooped up in Tobias’s basement.

  But Carlisle didn’t argue. He accepted a small suitcase filled with food, water, and various camping supplies. Then he left, lumbering out the door toward the path that would lead him to the road. Gordy’s mom had looked sick, and Gordy feared they had made a terrible mistake.

  Tobias had watched Carlisle through his binoculars to make sure he didn’t wander off the path and into the dangerous territory surrounding the property. Accidentally triggering a Boomclobber was the last thing the old man needed.

  Shortly after Carlisle’s departure, the four of them squeezed into Tobias’s pickup truck and headed out for the Swigs.

  Gordy’s mom straightened, brittle branches scraping at her jeans as she retreated a step from the edge. “Here they come.”

  The sound of hurrying footsteps and Tobias’s heavy breathing filled the air as he and Aunt Priss rounded the corner, then squeezed into the narrow hiding space.

  Gordy eagerly scrambled to his feet, and Priss held out a hand to calm him, offering him a faint smile. She looked the same as always, long auburn hair, steely-eyed, and determined.

  Tobias wasn’t wearing a disguise either. He and Priss were regulars in the Swigs, not like the Stitsers, who were fugitives from B.R.E.W.

  Tobias spent most nights in the Swigs, where he peddled minor weather potions. It was the type of business that could get him in trouble with B.R.E.W., but the penalty would be a fine and having his supply confiscated. Selling high-intensity weather potions like the Sturmwolke Slosh would land him in a bit more trouble should he ever get caught.

  “Entry location hasn’t changed,” Tobias said. “We should all be clear.”

  “Who all is there?” Gordy’s mom asked, returning the vial of Torpor Tonic to her satchel and tightening the strap over her shoulder.

  Tobias shrugged. “It’ll be a full house, that’s for certain. Gibbous moons always bring out the lot of them. A prime time for bartering and brouhaha.”

  Gordy’s mom gnawed on her lower lip with noticeably jagged teeth. Akerberg needed serious dental work. “But who exactly? Will we run into trouble?”

  Tobias grunted. “I have no way of knowing for sure. It’s not like your sister and I took a leisurely stroll to hand out questionnaires. We didn’t make it past the bouncer, you know.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Aunt Priss said. “It’s all right, Wanda. It doesn’t matter who we see down there because no one’s going to know who you really are. Your disguises are spot-on, thanks to Gordy.”

  Gordy felt his cheeks flushing. Earlier that evening, he had brewed a flawless batch of Disfarcar Gel in the lab. Even his mom had been impressed with the perfect vial of broccoli-colored liquid, and nothing seemed to impress her lately.

  Mrs. Stitser squared her jaw and nodded at Tobias. “You’re right. I apologize for snapping at you.”

  “Apology accepted,” Tobias replied with a smile.

  A rust-covered school bus idled next to the only lamppost in the otherwise empty parking lot. The rotting asphalt had cracked in multiple spots where tree roots had broken the surface and sprouted free. No movement. No voices. Not a soul in the area.

  Tobias led the group toward the bus, the crunch of gravel underfoot.

  Gordy squinted at the windows, but some sort of reflective material covered the glass, blocking his view inside.

  “That’s the Swigs?” Gordy whispered. It wasn’t even a full-sized school bus and couldn’t have had more than a couple dozen seats.

  “Shush.” Tobias held a finger to his lips. “The fella guarding the entryway is not exactly the friendly sort, and he knows everyone who does business in the Swigs. He wears special glasses that can identify any B.R.E.W. official who might try to sneak in. Don’t worry”—Tobias shot out a hand to calm Gordy’s mom—“it doesn’t see through disguises. It only detects whether or not someone is Bloodlinked to the Vessel, which you no longer are.” He raised his eyebrows, and Gordy
caught a hint of satisfaction in Tobias’s smile. The Irishman loved that Wanda had gotten herself fired and said so whenever he had the chance. “It’s best that I be the only one negotiating our way in tonight. Are we clear?”

  The door to the bus folded open before Tobias could knock, and a man stepped down, blocking the entry with his tall, lanky frame. He had dark brown skin, thinning hair, and he wore a hoody, his hands slipped into the side pockets. He had on a pair of basketball shorts that ended at least a foot above his bony kneecaps. Despite the darkness of the parking lot, he also wore sunglasses, the lenses glinting with an unnatural sparkle.

  “McFarland,” the man spoke, his voice hoarse.

  “Spider,” Tobias replied, nodding in acknowledgment.

  Gordy caught himself staring at the man with mounting interest. Was that his nickname? And if so, what had earned Spider his strange moniker? Did he like spiders?

  “And you brought friends, I see.” Spider frowned. “And your business is . . . ?”

  “None of yours,” Tobias answered. “Now, shove off and let me through. I’m in a hurry.”

  Gordy waited for Spider to retaliate, but the lanky man merely grunted and stepped to one side of the door, allowing Tobias access.

  “No rain this time,” Spider murmured as Tobias shuffled up the stairs. “Or hailstones. Or whirly-whirls, or whatever it is you do. Keep it corked.”

  “I’ll try my hardest,” Tobias answered before vanishing into the bus.

  Spider bowed his head slightly at Priss but issued no warnings to her as she walked in next. Gordy’s aunt hardly gave Spider a glance. Gordy wasn’t sure if it was because they had a mutual understanding or if what Tobias had told him about Priss’s reputation in the Swigs was accurate. Few people dared cross Priscilla Rook. His aunt was always such a pleasant person it was hard for Gordy to believe it. Of course, he had never seen Priss unleashed in her actual element.

  “Thought you were dead,” Spider said to Gordy’s mom disguised as Akerberg.

  She hesitated before replying, “Might as well be.”

  That seemed to satisfy Spider, and he let her pass without any further discussion.

  Then he shot out a hand, his long arm blocking the opening, as Gordy tried to sneak by. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Uh . . . the Swigs?” Gordy said, hopeful. He had deepened his voice on purpose, which made him sound ridiculous, since Scheel’s actual voice already bellowed without any effort.

  “Oh, you think so?” Spider asked.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Gordy’s mom asked from behind the man, her hand slipping into her satchel.

  “This problem doesn’t concern you, Akerberg,” Spider said. “This is between me and him.” He jabbed a sharp fingernail into Gordy’s shoulder.

  Gordy felt his stomach tangling up in knots. Had his Disfarcar Gel already worn off? Had Spider seen through his disguise with those magic glasses? By the looks of things, Gordy wasn’t going to catch even a glimpse of the inside of the bus, let alone the Swigs.

  “My Nipsy still walks around on her back legs everywhere she goes.” Spider’s narrow jaw shifted from side to side. “How long is she going to do that?”

  Confused, Gordy’s eyes shot up again behind Spider, but this time he found Tobias standing in place of his mom at the top of the stairs, silently mouthing a word over and over. It looked like he was saying . . .

  Spider dug his fingernail into Gordy’s shoulder.

  “Cat?” Gordy blurted out, and Tobias nodded rapidly. “Ah, you’re talking about your cat, aren’t you?” Gordy floundered, fixing his nervous gaze upon Spider.

  “Yeah. My Nipsy. She looks like a fur-covered imp. Even sits on the couch and crosses her legs, one over the other, just like a person.” Spider jabbed at Gordy’s shoulder with each word. “I don’t like it.” He shoved his hand back into the pocket of his hoodie. “I don’t think she was supposed to do that, was she? And definitely not for this long.”

  Gordy puffed out his cheeks, trying to recall a potion that could do that. Why would Spider ever need his cat to walk around on its hind legs at all?

  “Well?” Spider demanded. “When does it end?”

  “Uh . . . how many spoonfuls did you give her?” Gordy had no idea if the potion was even administered by spoonful. He just had to guess.

  “All of them,” Spider answered flatly. “The whole stinking vial.”

  “Oh!” Gordy looked at Tobias, who was twirling his hand, implying Gordy should wrap things up. “Then she should be fine in no time.”

  Spider harrumphed, then leaned close, lowering his voice. “I’m going to come looking for you when I’m off duty,” he said. “And you best have an antidote for me when I do.”

  The inside of the bus was empty save for one folding chair next to a small cooler packed with ice and a paper sack, which Gordy assumed held Spider’s dinner. Directly in front of the chair was a square hole in the ground, a ghostly pink hue lighting up the opening.

  Gordy hesitated, staring down into the space that seemed to go on forever below the bus. Gordy’s mom was about halfway down when she glanced over her shoulder and urged Gordy to follow.

  The pink lights came from bottles of glowing potion resting upon hollowed-out recesses every ten or so steps down the corridor. Gordy flicked one of the bottles as he passed by, and the pink liquid sloshed against the glass. He had made Luminescent Lamps before in his mother’s lab, but they could barely light up a darkened closet for a few minutes. These filled the stairwell with ample light and showed no indication of weakening anytime soon.

  After what had to be close to two hundred steps, the stairwell ended at a closed door. Gordy looked back up the stairs and could see the outline of Spider standing at the top. From that distance, Spider actually looked like a spider, one who happened to be missing most of its legs.

  “Stay to the right of the road,” Tobias whispered. “Don’t talk to anyone if you can help it. Your disguises should keep you out of trouble as long as you don’t stir any up yourself.” He glanced at Wanda and chuckled. “I half expected Spider’s glasses to trigger an alarm, but now I’m convinced you truly have been banned from B.R.E.W.”

  “I’m glad you find that amusing,” Gordy’s mom said, glaring at Tobias.

  “Just ironic, I suppose. Now, act like you belong. Avoid questions and don’t stare too long at the locals and you should be fine. There’s a cookery just off the main strip that has good food, and the customers generally keep to themselves. I know the owner. We go way back.” Tobias grabbed the doorknob and gave it a slight twist. “That’s where I’ll take Scheel, and you can join us after your meeting.”

  “We’re not going with them?” Gordy asked, feeling dejected. He’d wanted to meet Paulina Hasselbeck and her secretive Stained Squad.

  Gordy’s mom looked like she was struggling with the decision, her face contorted in frustration. “As much as I hate leaving you alone in the Swigs, this is a private meeting with Paulina. Priss and I are the only ones with invitations.”

  “He won’t be alone, lass. I’ll keep a good eye on him,” Tobias said. “Your meeting place with Paulina should be about a mile in.”

  “A mile in?” Gordy asked, baffled. How was that possible?

  Tobias’s eyes sparkled as he swung the door open. “Welcome to the Swigs.”

  Before he had a chance to see anything, the fumes of the Swigs struck Gordy squarely in the jaw. A fragrant whirlwind seemed to blow through the opening, bombarding his senses all at once. Gordy’s Deciphering skill kicked into overdrive as he caught the pungent scent of spilanthes and putrescine. The tang of wilting lotus flowers and bombardier beetle husks melded together with boxwood bark and what had to be peafowl feathers. It was as if someone had tipped over the world’s largest spice rack and swept everything together in a massive pile on the kitchen f
loor.

  Gordy immediately clamped a hand over his nose and mouth, trying to block the wave. He noticed his mother doing likewise, but Priss and Tobias seemed to be unaffected by the swarm of smells. Then Gordy caught sight of several dozen Elixirists beyond the door, crowded in a bustling group, and he forgot about the smells.

  “No way!” he exclaimed. “Who are all these people?”

  Most of them looked normal, wearing business suits, but mingled among them were more than a few oddballs. A woman—at least Gordy thought she was a woman—wore a hat made of some kind of beaded curtain that covered her body completely. The colorful beads swished back and forth, making the woman look like an undulating caterpillar standing on one end and weaving her way through the middle of the crowd.

  Tobias squeezed Gordy’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Careful now, Scheel. People might start to question your frequency here if you ask such things.”

  Gordy gritted his teeth and nodded. He had to somehow keep his cool, which was turning out to be harder than expected. The Swigs were basically a long tunnel with a high ceiling. There were pathways splintering away from the main strip and additional closed doors, some of which were guarded by unfriendly looking Elixirists.

  The crowds of people made it feel more like the entryway into an amusement park. More glowing pink potions lit up the tunnel from the tops of poles, but other lights poured out from beneath the awnings of shops, which were separated by nothing more than a piece of sheet metal. Animal carcasses dangled from hooks in the entryway of one shop while dried herbs hung from another. Gordy recognized several of the herbs immediately and grinned with eagerness. Most of what he saw couldn’t be found anywhere in the country, and here they all were, within arm’s reach.

  “Are those Gloriosa petals?” Gordy kept his voice low as he pressed close to Priss. Unlike Tobias and Wanda, Priss seemed to revel in Gordy’s excitement.

  “That’s the only shop in more than two thousand miles where you can buy them,” Priss replied. “And they have Kadupul seeds as well.”