The Seeking Serum

by Frank L. Cole

  Wanda looked at Paulina. “Why did you capture him?” Kidnapping a Chamber member was madness, and yet Paulina had always been calculated in her actions. She had to have a good reason.

  The woman standing guard over Straiffe removed an object from beneath her vest and placed it on the table. Wooden and cylindrical in shape, with strange markings carved into it, the object was frighteningly familiar.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Wanda asked.

  “A Decocting Wand,” Paulina answered. “Similar to what your good friend Madame Brexil used on her victims. When we discovered this in Mr. Veddlestone’s possession a couple of days ago, he had just finished ExSponging four individuals.”

  “I see,” Wanda said, unfazed by Paulina’s accusation. “And you wanted to step in and put a stop to it.”

  The news wasn’t that shocking. B.R.E.W.’s Chamber had reintroduced the practice of ExSponging when Talia Brexil became Chamber President. It was harsh and cruel but not out of the ordinary. Naturally, the Stained Squad would be opposed to such an action. Though foolish to go against a Chamber member, it was a noble attempt.

  “The Chamber has lost their minds,” Priss hissed under her breath. “Who were the poor souls this time?”

  Paulina ticked the names off on her fingers. “Davian Jordans, Collette Peterson, Albert Pennyweather, and Josefa Blanco.”

  Wanda’s mouth fell open. “You just named off the other members of the Chamber.”

  Paulina gazed up grimly. “I did. Straiffe led a group of Scourges into a secret meeting where they proceeded in ExSponging almost every one of the Chamber of Directors.”

  “I’m not just going to sit here while you accuse me of these hideous crimes. You have no right to keep me and no proof!” Straiffe struggled against his bindings. He almost succeeded in knocking his captor’s hands free from his shoulders, but she seized hold and forced him back to the floor.

  “We’ve already obtained a confession from Straiffe using this Axiom Application,” Paulina explained, pulling out a jar of glistening white cream. “We know the truth. He was not Blotched by the Scourges. He acted on his own accord as though purposely trying to destroy B.R.E.W.”

  “You said almost every member of the Chamber,” Wanda said.

  “Iris Glass has gone into hiding, but we are looking for her and hoping to find her before someone else does.”

  “I don’t understand,” Priss said. “He ExSponged the members of his own Chamber? That’s kind of a backward way of becoming the president.”

  “I did no such thing!” Straiffe snapped.

  Paulina plucked the jar from the table, covered her finger with the cream, and smeared it across Straiffe’s forehead.

  The portly man’s demeanor instantly changed. He no longer struggled, his cheeks ceased quivering, and his pupils dilated.

  “Tell them what you told us. Why did you attack the Chamber of Directors?” She twirled the jar of cream with her fingers, regarding Straiffe as one might gaze upon a murderous snake.

  “Because I was told to. By Mezzarix,” Straiffe answered.

  “What did you stand to gain by this action?” Paulina continued.

  “The Vessel’s powers have been limited because of our Blood Link. Mezzarix’s reach is strong but can only stretch so far. By removing all Chamber members, he will have the strength to realize his Manifesto. The Vessel will be destroyed. All prisons emptied. All governments vanquished. All secrets revealed.” Straiffe’s eyes focused on the Decocting Wand. “And he gave us each a wondrous gift.”

  Wanda’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying the Scourges he released were given a Decocting Wand to use against us?”

  Straiffe nodded, lips morphing into a sadistic smile. “Most of us. The ones he trusted to act on his command. They are in the Swigs. They are in your neighborhoods. They are infiltrating your safe places.” The man got to his feet despite the soldier pressing down against his shoulders. It was as though he had secretly ingested a strength potion.

  “Rachel,” Paulina said, snapping her fingers. “Take control of him.”

  “Get down!” the woman soldier commanded. “On the ground, now!”

  But Straiffe ignored her, splitting his concentration between Wanda and the Decocting Wand resting within his reach. His wrists and ankles were bound, but he had surprising poise for a man of his size.

  “None of you are safe!” His voice boomed. “This is the beginning of the end of B.R.E.W. Mezzarix’s Manifesto shall be realized. And should you attempt to stop us, your fate will be grim and everlasting.” He faced the table, sweat dripping from his furrowed brow. For a moment, he did nothing but gape at the weapon in wonder, his balance wavering. Then he straightened his shoulders and closed his eyes.

  “I hereby proclaim myself ExSponged!” Straiffe lunged forward, pulling free of Rachel’s grasp. He threw himself across the table, connecting with the Decocting Wand. He gasped sharply, then fell limp. The effects of the Axiom Application faded from Straiffe’s eyes as his legs gave out beneath him and he slid to the floor.

  “He just Self-ExSponged!” Priss shouted. “Why did he do that?”

  “All that stands in the way of our triumph is Iris Glass,” Straiffe snickered, his breath wheezing. “She’s old and injured. I saw to that, personally. We will find her and ExSponge her. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “You won’t be doing anything but rotting in a Forbidden Zone. And now you can no longer brew.” Paulina sounded calm, but Wanda suspected the leader of the Stained Squad felt the same anxiousness she did.

  Straiffe shook his head. “No Banishment will last under Mezzarix, and once he learns of my faithfulness, he will restore my powers and place me upon a pedestal of prestige and glory. You have lost. I have won.”

  Rachel wrenched a now-subdued Straiffe from the floor and forced him through the back door, leaving the three women behind in the smoky room.

  “Your father’s Manifesto, radical as it may seem, has always made sense to me,” Paulina said, her scratchy voice deepening. “I don’t agree with it, of course, but one could argue his reasoning is rooted in truth. The leaders placed in charge have become corrupted just as much as the Scourges. I have no love for B.R.E.W. anymore. Not for many years, but no prisons equals madness. No governments . . . chaos.”

  “It has always been his wish,” Priss said. “Since as far back as I can remember, since we were little girls”—she nodded at Wanda—“our dad has wanted the world to realize his vision.”

  “‘When the truly powerful have control,’” Wanda said, remembering something her father used to say, “‘positions won’t matter.’ Mezzarix sees this as his way of restoring the old breed of Elixirist, with him in the position of the most powerful. The ones we’ve locked up over the years for their crimes will now be the ones everyone fears. Everyone but our father.”

  “And B.R.E.W.’s involvement in technology? What becomes of that?” Paulina asked.

  Priss sighed. “If he destroys the Vessel, it will all be dissolved.”

  “But why?” Paulina smacked the table emphatically. “Why take away our advancements as a people? Why not simply take control of the Vessel and use that technology for his own benefit?”

  “Because he doesn’t need it to be powerful,” Wanda said. “And by taking it away from everyone else, Dad will firmly place himself at the top.”

  Wanda’s head was spinning. Though Straiffe had been under the influence of the Axiom Application, he had acted in control of his faculties. He hadn’t been Blotched. Whether driven by fear or purpose, it made no difference. The decision to Self-ExSponge had been all his doing. Straiffe had willingly given up his very existence to pave the way for Mezzarix’s full return to power. It was terrifying.

  And according to the traitorous former member of the Chamber of Directors, the Swigs were now crawling with Scourges just as fanatical
as he was.

  The ivory cauldron reached a screeching crescendo, announcing the completion of Gordy’s potion as he blew out the Amber Wick and thick smoke poured sluggishly over the lip. Silver and nutmeg-colored ribbons swirled about in the bowl.

  Yosuke kept silent, his eyes squinting with thoughtful interest, as he selected a wooden spoon from the counter and carefully dipped it into the cauldron, where it instantly crumbled into powder. “Oh my,” he said.

  Gordy bit his lip, trying not to grin. He had just brewed his first batch of Mureta Mush—a nineteenth-century potion that had been used at Finnish sawmills to pulp entire tree trunks within seconds. Yosuke had pulled the recipe from one of his ancient-looking potion manuals stacked in a footlocker. The yellowish paper, like the wooden spoon, had nearly crumbled to pieces at the slightest touch.

  “I daresay your mother couldn’t have brewed a finer batch,” Yosuke said. “Or even your grandfather.”

  Gordy hardly knew Yosuke, but receiving praise from the founder of the Swigs seemed like a high honor.

  “So what do you make of it?” Tobias asked. “It can’t be good for the boy.”

  “No, it can’t,” Yosuke agreed.

  Gordy swallowed. “What do you mean? I’m just substituting the ingredients.”

  “In the most unnatural way I’ve ever seen,” Yosuke said.

  Gordy had successfully brewed the Mureta Mush without the five black woodpecker bills, one of the essential components of the potion. When the recipe had called for that ingredient, Gordy, like he had done in Tobias’s kitchen, had inserted his finger into the cauldron, filling in the gap, much to Tobias’s and Yosuke’s amazement.

  “It’s just Blind Batching, right?” Gordy reasoned. Only a handful of Elixirists in the world could Blind Batch, which meant not a lot was known about the mysterious practice.

  “All potions have a recipe, even the undiscovered ones, and that recipe requires certain steps and elements. Blind Batching doesn’t eliminate any of those steps. It simply works through an alternate recipe. What you’re doing is defying the laws of potion-making.” Yosuke gazed at Gordy as though seeing him for the first time. “You couldn’t always do this, could you?”

  Gordy shook his head. This development had only started the past couple of weeks. Before that, Gordy could Blind Batch, but he needed all the ingredients.

  “It would seem that after you swallowed the Eternity Elixir at B.R.E.W., it has taken up permanent residence within you,” Yosuke said. “The Elixir is aiding you in supplying the missing ingredients.”

  “Do you think you can take a stab at Philtering it out of his system?” Tobias asked.

  Yosuke shook his head. “I don’t dare—not without his mother’s permission.”

  “What’s going to happen to me?” Gordy asked.

  “There are many mysteries in our world, none more complicated than Mezzarix’s prized potion,” Yosuke said. “But until we fully understand what is happening inside you, I would avoid giving in to your urges to experiment.”

  “What if I accidentally do it again in my sleep?” Gordy wondered aloud, fearing the worst.

  “I have a feeling you’ll be just fine,” Yosuke said. “So grim, this one.”

  “Just like his mother,” Tobias added. His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Speak of the devil. Let’s see what sort of remarks good ol’ Mrs. Stitser has to share now.” He tapped on the message.

  In an instant, Tobias’s snarky expression changed, eyes growing dark. He handed the phone to Yosuke.

  Yosuke stood abruptly, grunting with determination.

  “What did she say?” Gordy asked.

  Tobias showed him his mother’s message.

  No time to explain. We need to move with phase two of our plan. Get my son out of the Swigs right now!

  I told you I don’t know!” Tobias snapped. “You read the same message I did.” Gravel scattered behind the tires of Tobias’s pickup truck as he sped out of the parking lot.

  Gordy stared through the back window as the school bus shrank behind them. His mom and his aunt were still in the Swigs, somewhere below the road.

  “If she’s in trouble, we have to go back and help her!” Gordy demanded as he moved to open the door.

  “Sit down and fasten your seat belt!” Tobias yanked on Gordy’s sleeve, pulling him back into his seat. The truck veered onto the shoulder, mowing through the tall grasses. “We don’t go back. We go home,” he said, his voice calming. “Your mother will be fine. She’s with Priscilla and Paulina, two top-notch Elixirists. If they can’t handle themselves, then . . . well, there’s nothing we can do to help. Besides, you’re leaving in the morning. Packing up your things and cracking off at first light.”

  “Where are we going?” Gordy wasn’t really surprised by the news. The farmhouse had been a suitable hideout, but his mother had always planned to stay mobile.

  “There’s a place—west,” Tobias said. “The Stained Squad have safe houses dotting the countryside; they’ll give you sanctuary. I don’t know what your mother did to gain their favor, but that Paulina Hasselbeck certainly feels indebted to her.”

  Before Mezzarix’s attack on B.R.E.W. headquarters, Gordy had never heard of the Stained Squad. He wasn’t entirely sure what sort of missions the potion-master mercenaries went on, but he doubted they were legal. Priss had mentioned Black Ops and potion smuggling more than once.

  “Blast this fog!” Tobias tugged on a lever next to the steering wheel, activing the windshield wipers across the dry glass. “Must have gone overboard with my last batch of Slosh. Going to have to dial it back. This weather of mine’s going to alert someone at B.R.E.W.”

  “I don’t think this is from a storm,” Gordy said.

  “Of course it is. Look at the rain.” Tobias smirked, glancing sideways at Gordy.

  “But there isn’t any rain,” Gordy pointed out.

  Tobias looked out the window and frowned. “Then what is this?”

  Tapping on the brakes, Tobias slowed the vehicle, and the two of them leaned forward across the dashboard, gazing through the windshield. The truck’s headlights barely penetrated the thick fog-like substance gathered around them, and Gordy could smell the acrid scent of wet smoke. What Tobias had initially mistaken as raindrops were actually gray pieces of ash fluttering down and disintegrating against the glass.

  “Why would there be smoke?” Tobias muttered more to himself than to Gordy. Then his eyes pulled wide, and he slammed a heavy foot down on the gas pedal. “No, no, no!”

  Less than a mile away from the turnoff leading to Tobias’s property, the sky had changed from black to a vibrant salmon-colored orange. Gordy spotted the blaze in the distance, rising up above the treetops, at the same time Tobias’s bloodcurdling scream rattled the windows.

  The truck went off-road, tearing into the trees, a quarter of a mile from the farmhouse.

  “They know better!” Tobias shouted, laying all his weight on the horn and jerking the steering wheel from left to right. “They know better than to mess with a McFarland! They’ll feel my wrath! Believe you me, they’ll feel all of that and more!” His wet eyes glared at Gordy almost as though accusing him of having set the forest ablaze.

  “Tobias, slow down. Please!” Gordy kept waiting for the truck to go airborne or crash into a tree. He braced his hands on the dashboard, grateful for his seat belt, as they crested a hill overlooking the meadow outside of Tobias’s home.

  And then Tobias lost control of the wheel and slammed on the brakes again.

  Part of the house, most of the yard, and almost every possible inch of his beloved garden was on fire.

  Tobias, come back!” Gordy tried to project his whisper but he could have shouted at the top of his lungs and Tobias probably would’ve ignored it.

  Several pumpkins exploded, pulp and seeds splattering an
d sizzling against Gordy’s shoes. The effects of Tobias’s storm potion churning above the garden hadn’t worn off entirely, and a gale of wind whipped through the forest, carrying with it a biting sheet of rain. It was as though the conjured weather mirrored Tobias’s infuriated emotions as the rain turned into icy sleet and then back to rain.

  Cupping a hand over his eyes, Gordy watched in horror as Tobias sprinted down the hill and into the clearing beyond the trees in front of the house, screaming all the way. Save for a few patches of green, the garden was gone, leaving only a blazing square of scorched earth.

  Gordy looked skyward, fearful for all those birds entranced by one of Tobias’s concoctions, but they were gone as well. Hopefully the fire had broken their trance and they had flown away. If not . . . He didn’t want to think about that.

  An ear-piercing cackle filled the air, echoing from just beyond the tree line. The shed Bolter had once used as a temporary laboratory went up in blue flames. Several objects exploded through the walls, whizzing through the air like miniature UFOs in a space battle. It took Gordy a moment to realize they were the hubcaps from Bolter’s personal collection.

  Then a woman wearing rags for clothing stepped out from the trees, and Gordy felt his spirits plummet.

  “Not the mud people!” he groaned.

  Gordy had hoped he would never see that woman again, but there was no way he would forget her face. During the attack at B.R.E.W. headquarters, she had doused Bolter’s car with a potion that had formed a gigantic octopus that almost drowned everyone.

  Several more Scourges emerged from the forest, each with a seemingly endless supply of Pele Punch and Polish Fire Rockets, as well as other combustible concoctions. Crimson potion splashed and ignited, setting everything on fire. Once they pinpointed Tobias’s location, they fanned out, forming a perimeter. Gordy counted seven Scourges—too many to handle all at once. Realizing he was standing out in the open, Gordy ducked back behind a tree, but it was too late.