The Seeking Serum

by Frank L. Cole

  Why had his mom kept her past a secret from him? She had allowed Gordy to believe Mezzarix had been a farmer and had died in an accident before he was born. Gordy had only thought she had lied because she was embarrassed about her grandfather’s history. Had she been trying to keep the truth about her history from him as well?

  Easing back into his chair, Gordy looked at Tobias. “You knew about this?”

  Tobias dabbed at his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “I knew of the Rook family from when I was employed by B.R.E.W., but I didn’t know the extent of your mother’s mischief until much later. By then, Wanda had already betrayed me, given me the boot, and sent me scrabbling for scraps in the Swigs.” He glanced at Yosuke, his lips forming a taut line. “It wasn’t until I became associated with Yosuke a couple of years ago that I learned the rest of her tale.”

  “And you just forgave her for everything she did?” Gordy was still unconvinced. “Just like that?”

  Yosuke nodded. “We became close friends. I was her trainer. She was talented already, but I helped guide her brewing in the right direction. Teaching her was my request—my final request.” He patted his chest as though relishing his finest moment, then his countenance changed from pride to disappointment. “I don’t expect you’ll understand, but I believed someone with her sense of purpose would be just what B.R.E.W. needed. I saw her potential. Saw what she could offer. Then, shortly after Wanda completed her first year at headquarters, I left the Chamber.”

  “To become the founder of the Swigs.” Gordy’s forehead furrowed. “B.R.E.W.’s enemy.” That part didn’t make any sense. How did someone go from being a member of the Chamber to the creator of something in open opposition of B.R.E.W.’s guidelines and laws?

  Yosuke’s eyes twinkled. “Ask me why I did it. Why I abandoned all that I had worked for. My prestige. My reputation. I openly rebelled against B.R.E.W., much like your family did. Why did I do that?”

  “I don’t know.” Gordy shrugged. “Why did you?”

  “Because I finally understood that it was our doing that brought our own pain. B.R.E.W.’s controlling ways, our rules, our harsh punishments, led Mezzarix to us.” Yosuke jabbed a thumb into his chest. “Instead of trying to work out our differences, we Banished and ExSponged Elixirists. We created the Scourges, one by one. And when your mother became the Lead Investigator, determined to destroy anyone who thought differently than she did, I knew I could no longer be a part of such a monstrous organization. Wanda was never an evil person. She was kind and thoughtful. Mezzarix may have misled her, but B.R.E.W. transformed her.”

  The air drained from Gordy’s lungs. Could that really be true? Shaking his head, Gordy spoke in a strained voice. “My mom stopped a lot of bad people. They were doing terrible things, and she stopped them.”

  “Yes, we are safer because of her hard work against the Scourges.” Yosuke swirled his spoon in his bowl. “But she also sent a lot of good people away in the process. Ones who were just curious and needed guidance and a place to explore their talents. They needed an institution, not a Forbidden Zone. You’ve seen the Swigs for yourself. What do you think? Is it bad?”

  Gordy swallowed. “Not all bad.”

  “Precisely!” Yosuke smacked the table.

  Gordy thought about B.R.E.W. and what it truly stood for. He thought about the good people trying to do the right thing. Bolter, for sure. And . . . was there anybody else? Sasha’s mom had been a corrupt Chamber President, and upon her ExSpongement, the new Chamber had abandoned her. Zelda had been decent up until she joined Mezzarix. And then there was Tobias, who Gordy genuinely liked and respected, but who had been forced to go into hiding by Gordy’s mom. Was B.R.E.W., more than Mezzarix, really the enemy?

  “B.R.E.W.’s not all bad,” Gordy reasoned. They had made advancements in technology and helped with all sorts of important findings that made the world a better place.

  “Of course not,” Yosuke said. “No organization is all bad. In many ways, the Swigs and B.R.E.W. are brothers in their thinking.” He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the table. “If we cannot see past our differences and unite for one great cause, your grandfather will trigger the end of the world as we know it. Nothing should be absolute—neither chaos nor control. True happiness is finding a way to allow both to coexist equally. You’ve managed to do that in your own life.”

  “Me?” Gordy breathed.

  “You are like your mother and your grandfather in many ways, but you are also different,” Yosuke explained. “You are linked to the Community, the outside world, the Swigs, and the Scourges. You are conflicted, but you are also someone with power and influence among many circles.”

  Gordy snickered. “I don’t have any power.”

  “No?” Yosuke looked surprised. “Have you not fought against and defeated powerful dark Elixirists while also saving and protecting Mezzarix, the Scourge of Nations?”

  “Yeah, not exactly. I—”

  “Have you not saved B.R.E.W. on more than one occasion?” Yosuke continued, cutting Gordy off. “But also, have you not openly defied the Chamber President and, in the process, become an outlaw?”

  “Yes, sort of, but most of that wasn’t my fault,” Gordy tried to explain. “I wasn’t trying to do any of that. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Yet by doing so, you’ve become rooted in multiple areas of society. You are respected, and you have a good heart and good intentions.”

  Exhaling slowly, Gordy stared down at his hands, unsure of how to process the information. Despite their unexpected introduction, there was something in Yosuke’s manner that Gordy appreciated. Maybe even respected. He liked the strange man and wanted to hear more stories about his mom and the early days of B.R.E.W. Maybe, if he was lucky, Gordy would be able to return another day and share a different conversation with Yosuke.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” Maybe it was because it was close to midnight, but he felt exhausted.

  Yosuke and Tobias exchanged a glance. “You feel you are too young to be faced with difficult decisions, but there will come a day when you will have to decide on the best choices for our people, and when that day comes, now you will be informed. Perhaps you can help all of us find a middle ground.” He raised his spoon and slurped the last of his soup. “Let’s retire to the kitchen. I’ve set up some equipment for us to brew together.”

  “Really?” Gordy’s eyebrows perked up.

  “Yes, Tobias tells me you have many secrets,” Yosuke said, rising from his seat. “Ones you don’t even share with your mother.”

  Gordy shot a wary glance over at Tobias. “I don’t have any secrets.”

  “Come off it, boy.” Tobias grunted. “You didn’t really believe I would allow someone to brew in my home without my knowledge of it, did you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Gordy felt more than a hint of concern growing in his chest.

  Tobias narrowed his eyes. “I have security cameras all throughout my kitchen. It may look like a humble dwelling, but I’ve never shied away from technology. And I’ve watched you now, several times, do that weird thing with your finger.”

  Gordy’s concern rapidly morphed into a sinking pit in his stomach. He’d thought he’d been brewing all alone, but Tobias had watched him. He had seen what Gordy could do.

  “You look concerned,” Yosuke said, gripping the wooden back of the chair.

  “Tobias, I’m so sorry!” Gordy blurted. “It won’t happen again. I promise!”

  Tobias’s harsh gaze softened. “I’m not angry with you. On the contrary, it’s one reason I brought you here.”

  “You haven’t told my mom yet?” Gordy asked warily.

  “Now, why would I do a foolish thing like that?” Tobias replied. “Wanda doesn’t do well with secrets, and I’ve kept my fair share from her.” He scooted his chair back from the table a
nd stood next to Yosuke. “But if anyone can help you, it’s my friend Yosuke.”

  A blue syringe dangled in place of a sign above the doorway of Wanda and Priss’s destination. The door opened, and a bald man wearing an overcoat stepped out. His shoulders filled the width of the doorway, and his hardened expression looked like it had been chiseled from granite. Wanda could see the tips of corked vials poking up from the man’s pockets and wondered if there would be any trouble getting past him. But after several tense moments of silence, the guard waved them through.

  “He seems friendly,” Priss muttered.

  “I’ve seen him before,” Wanda answered. “He’s one of the Stained Squad’s hired muscle.”

  Through a narrow entryway, Wanda and Priss entered a smallish room that would have made a fortune-teller feel right at home. A modest chandelier hung from the ceiling above a circular table with several chairs tucked beneath it. The air was filled with fragrant incense that coiled and drifted hazily at eye level.

  “Hello, Wanda,” a woman said. The soft glow of the chandelier cast a faint circle upon her, leaving the rest of the room in shadow. She was of Middle Eastern descent, with thin shoulders, and wore simple, loose fabrics. Her head was covered with a silky wrap.

  Wanda scanned the room, clutching her satchel.

  “Ah, Priscilla, good to see you as well.” Paulina nodded at Priss. “How’s Portugal these days?”

  “How would I know?” Priss replied. “I’ve been here for months. My herb garden has shriveled up, and I don’t even want to think about my poor goat. Hopefully, someone rescued him from starvation.” She slipped next to Wanda, nudging her gently with her shoulder. “Cozy place you have here. I take it you don’t entertain many guests.”

  Paulina smiled pleasantly. “That’s not our forte.”

  Wanda noticed a mirror hanging on each of the four walls. Beneath each mirror, a stick of incense burned in a holder, smoke rising as if drawn to the light. Wanda’s true reflection peered back at her, not the one of Akerberg.

  Wanda gestured to the sticks of incense. “I suppose anyone could just purchase Unmocita Kara down here in the Swigs. Never mind the fact that prolonged exposure to the smoke has been known to cause irreversible paralysis.”

  “We won’t be here long enough to worry about that,” Paulina said. “But there can be no secrets here and no disguises. Certainly not for this meeting. Now, please take a seat.”

  Wanda and Priss sat, each of them tucking their satchels in their laps as Paulina drummed her fingers rhythmically on the tabletop.

  “Can we finally get down to business?” Wanda asked. “I want to know why you’ve been withholding information these past weeks. I thought we had a deal.”

  “Our deal is still intact.” The patter of Paulina’s fingertips slowed. “I haven’t been withholding any information. On the contrary, I’ve been forthcoming with all that I have learned.”

  “You know something has happened. You said so on the phone, but you wouldn’t give me the details. I need to know what kind of danger my family is in. Starting with the names of the Scourges who have been released from their prisons.”

  Paulina’s eyes flitted between the two sisters before she answered. “Within the last forty-eight hours, anyone worthy of your attention has gone missing from their Forbidden Zones. I’ve received confirmation from my informants that all high-level areas have been emptied. Upper Siberia. The Southern isles and the arid wastelands. It’s the largest organized escape of Scourges in the history of B.R.E.W.”

  Priss caught her breath. “How many exactly?”

  Paulina licked her lower lip. “More than a hundred and fifty.”

  Falling back in her chair with a thud, Priss whistled. “That’s an army.”

  “A formidable one,” Paulina agreed. “Highly skilled and hungry for a taste of what they’ve been missing all these years.”

  Wanda felt a pit open in her stomach. “Forty-eight hours? Why wasn’t I told sooner?”

  “You’re being told now,” Paulina answered.

  Wanda slapped the table. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re withholding information! You have to know they’ll be coming here.”

  “Oh, make no mistake, Wanda, many have already arrived and are even now holed up in their hiding places. We suspect the rest will trickle in by the first of the week. We weren’t sure who we could trust with this information. Such is the inconvenience of war. I think you’ll agree that traitors can pop up in the oddest of locations.” Paulina steepled her fingertips. “Heard much from Zelda these days?”

  Like the drifting smoke of the Unmocita Kara, silence hung in the air. Zelda had been Wanda’s friend at B.R.E.W. If it hadn’t been for Zelda, Wanda’s family may have been seriously injured when Esmeralda Faustus first went on the attack. Zelda had been part of Wanda’s close-knit circle of trusted associates. And last month, she had turned her back on B.R.E.W.

  “You can’t pin that on us,” Priss said, breaking the silence. “Zelda made her own choices, independent of our wishes.”

  “To follow your father,” Paulina added. “And she was heavily rooted in B.R.E.W. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t immediately extend trust to the Stitsers.”

  “You trust us now, right?” Wanda asked. “I was the one who helped Banish those Scourges.” Anxiousness burrowed under her skin. Now, more than ever, she wanted to gather her family and hide them somewhere safe, but they were not together anymore. Gordon, Isaac, and Jessica were far away—perhaps out of danger, perhaps not. She wanted to run to Gordy right away and leave this horrid place. “They’ll be coming for revenge.”

  “Some will,” Paulina said, her nose twitching. “The misguided ones. The ones with the shortest tempers and the longest memories. We feel that most, however, haven’t come to avenge their Banishments. Not directly at least. They’re here by Mezzarix’s request.”

  “To do what?” Priss asked.

  Footsteps approached the rear door to the room, and Wanda could hear grumbling voices. It sounded as though there was a struggle happening outside, and she straightened in her chair.

  “You will understand better if I show you,” Paulina said.

  The door opened, and another woman entered. She was dressed in a military uniform lined with pockets and padded armor. Gritting her teeth, the woman dragged in a man wearing a tattered gray business suit, a cloth sack covering his face, and forced him into a kneeling position next to the table.

  Green bands glowed around the prisoner’s wrists. Wanda recognized them as a modified application of a Ragaszto Ragout formed into handcuffs, something she’d used often in her previous employment. The same glowing substance had been adhered to the man’s ankles as well, right above his mud-caked leather shoes. Whoever this person was, Paulina had no intention of allowing his escape.

  “Is this really necessary?” the man exclaimed, struggling against his bindings. “I am not a threat to any of you!” His covered head snapped around as though he were trying to gather his bearings.

  Wanda narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “I recognize that voice.”

  “As you should.” Paulina nodded at her associate, and the woman yanked away the sack.

  The face beneath was nothing special: middle-aged and ordinary. The man was more than a bit overweight, with stocky shoulders and a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. His bushy eyebrows crinkled as he squinted, trying to focus his eyes.

  Wanda kept control of the emotions that flared up inside her as she fixed Paulina with a contemptuous glare. “What are you trying to do here?” She massaged the skin beneath her eyes with her fingers. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.”

  Paulina stared at her prisoner. “You asked for our protection.”

  “This was not what I had in mind. I assure you, B.R.E.W. is not our enemy!”

  “Who are you peopl
e?” the man demanded, plump cheeks quivering. “What do you want with me?”

  “Who is he?” Priss whispered.

  “Straiffe Veddlestone,” Wanda answered.

  Straiffe straightened his shoulders, puffing out his chest indignantly. “I am the acting president of the Society of Canadian Agro-Healers and one of the senior members of B.R.E.W.’s Chamber. I have been falsely imprisoned and slandered by these mercenaries, and if you wish to . . .” His voice trailed off, eyes widening, as he caught sight of one of the mirrors hanging on the wall. Incense smoke coiled, and Wanda’s image reflected back from the glass. “Wanda? Is that really you? Oh, thank goodness! Finally, someone sensible. You would not believe what I’ve been through. Treated like an animal. Caged and starved and . . .” He held out his hands, bound in glowing shackles, but he kept his eyes on the mirror as though expecting the image to suddenly change. “I assure you this has all been a horrible mistake!”

  “This week just keeps getting better and better,” Priss said, folding her arms. “Now the two of us are accessories to kidnapping. We were already facing serious punishment. This will end with our lifelong Banishment.”

  “No, no, it . . . it’s quite all right,” Straiffe stammered. “These things happen. Accidents. Misunderstandings. I may have been mistreated by these . . . people, but considering the circumstances of Mezzarix’s escape, a measure of lunacy is to be expected.” He cleared his throat, moistening his lips with his tongue. “I, in no way, hold any of you accountable for these actions. Especially not you, Wanda. Let me go, give me back the personal belongings that you seized from me, and I will be on my way.”