The Seeking Serum

by Frank L. Cole

  Gordy felt an instant rush of relief. Torpor Tonic meant his friends had survived. Instinctively slipping his hand into the unzippered pocket of his satchel, Gordy sifted through the contents and selected a potion.

  “Don’t just stand there like dimwits!” Ravian shouted. “Find the other boy! He’s around here somewhere.”

  Gordy stepped forward but halted when he heard movement off to his side. Carlisle stood a few feet away amid the palm trees. His eyes scanned the ground, suddenly widening. Gordy realized his dose of Silt had worn off, leaving him exposed. Without any hesitation, Gordy leaped into the trees.

  “They have my friends,” Gordy whispered. He checked the clearing for any signs of Ravian or the Atramenti, but miraculously, Gordy hadn’t been spotted.

  Carlisle flicked his chin to where the faint etchings of a path curved through the tall grasses.

  Gordy had no interest exploring the island without the others. He pointed back toward the clearing. “We have to follow them.”

  In response, Carlisle turned and trudged down the path.

  “Where are you going?” Gordy’s hushed voice drew a shriek from a trio of macaws perched on a tree branch.

  With Carlisle on his side, the two of them could fan out and attack the Atramenti from different angles. Maybe he had more Silt in his knapsack. But the old man wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t slowing down, either. If Gordy didn’t hurry, he would lose him in the thick vegetation. Growling in frustration, Gordy made his decision and took off after him.

  The path zigzagged through the jungle. The hot air was sticky with swarming mosquitoes. When he wasn’t hacking his way through branches, Gordy was smacking his skin, trying to flatten the annoying pests. Eventually the path sloped downward, ending at a stream that bubbled from the base of a rock wall. Carlisle crouched next to the narrow hole.

  “Can I drink this?” Gordy asked, already dropping to his knees by the water and scooping handfuls into his mouth.

  The cold water tasted fresh and gritty. Gordy doused his hair, soaking his shirt collar, and then paused to scratch one of the mosquito bites. When was the last time he’d walked that far? He glanced over just as the bald patch of Carlisle’s head vanished down the hole next to the stream.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Gordy groaned. First hiking, now spelunking? They were wasting time. Instead of rescuing his friends, Carlisle was taking Gordy on safari!

  “Carlisle!” he called into the hole. “If I plummet to my death . . . so help me!”

  Shoving his satchel down first, Gordy held his breath and slid down after it. He landed in a dark cavern, then he heard the striking sound of a match. He took in a gasping breath of air as the sudden glow of a torch ignited, illuminating an enormous cavern stretching out endlessly for what had to be miles.

  A single candle glowed in a glass-covered lamp hanging from the ceiling. Adilene sat cross-legged on the floor in a prison cell. The room—a six-foot block of stone surrounded by damp, wooden walls with no windows—felt dismal and bleak.

  Lying on a cot next to her was Sasha, and though her eyes were closed, she wasn’t sleeping. The tears had dried on her cheeks, but from time to time, Adilene could hear the girl sniffle. Sasha’s hands had been secured by a pair of uncomfortable metal gloves designed to keep her from brewing. She couldn’t even wiggle a finger. Unlike Sasha, Adilene hadn’t been fitted with any sort of restraint.

  Two hunks of bread and bowls of soup lay on a tray beneath the cot, growing cold and stale as the girls refused to eat anything. Adilene had wondered if the food was poisoned, while Sasha had insisted that if they took even the smallest of nibbles, they would end up Blotched.

  “I’m still hungry!” Max bellowed from across the room. “One measly roll and some broth doesn’t cut it for us Pinkermans!” He had complained almost nonstop since being startled awake. Max was loud, insulting, and obnoxious, but Adilene was so grateful to hear his voice. Seeing him falling from the craft had been one of the worst moments of her life. As far as she was concerned, Max could keep shouting as long as he wanted.

  Adilene had woken about an hour earlier to find herself imprisoned along with the others. After being pulled into the cloud, she couldn’t remember much except for the smells. Scents of foreign chemicals and strange substances. Her nostrils burning, tongue tingling as each element seemed to trigger some sort of reaction. Then Adilene had been cradled in a blanket and drifted into unconsciousness.

  They had no idea what had happened to Gordy. He wasn’t in their cell, and he hadn’t answered when they had called out his name. But Adilene knew he had to have survived. Gordy was more important than the rest of them combined. They were on his grandfather’s island now, and that bizarre cloud had been one of his sinister concoctions. If they hadn’t perished in the fall, then certainly Gordy would’ve made it out okay. But where was he? And where was Carlisle?

  Climbing to her feet, Adilene crossed the room and jiggled the doorknob. The latch caught firmly as she twisted, refusing to budge. She took a breath and then knocked on the door. After a few seconds of waiting, she heard someone approaching.

  “How may I be of assistance?” Their guardian was a boy, his voice squeaking as though it hadn’t settled on a final tone.

  “What’s your name? And why are you holding us here?” Adilene leaned her ear against the door. She could hear the boy’s feet shuffling back and forth.

  “I am Gabriel,” the boy replied. He possessed a slight accent, but it wasn’t Spanish. At least not the Spanish she had grown up with.

  Trying to imagine the owner’s face, Adilene envisioned him as thin and mousy, maybe with a faint mustache sprouting beneath his nose. But the boy was also an imposter. That much Adilene knew for sure. A half hour ago, when Max had been pounding on the door, demanding a bathroom break, the boy’s voice had suddenly turned from young to old. It had dribbled out like a scratchy growl, followed by a round of hacking and wheezing. Max had immediately backed away from the door in shock. The guard had tried to recover, explaining how he was under the weather, but the damage had been done. These people were just like Cadence. They were shifty and odd and capable of changing their appearance at will, but all of them, despite their disguises, were ancient.

  “You are . . . our guests,” the boy continued.

  “Guests?” Max scoffed. “Then let us out!”

  “I can’t,” Gabriel said. “We are keeping you in there for your own safety.”

  Max plopped down on the wooden cot across the room. “You’re such a liar, Gabriel.”

  “Can you at least give us a blanket?” Adilene asked. “It’s freezing in here.”

  Sasha sat up, staring at Adilene in confusion, sweat beading on her upper lip.

  “I’m not allowed to give you anything other than your meals, I’m afraid,” Gabriel explained.

  “Just give her a blanket, you big dummy!” Max hollered out. Adilene could almost see the boy cringing from Max’s insult.

  “Very well,” Gabriel said. “Do you require anything else?”

  Adilene’s eyes darted around the room. “May I have a glass of water?” she added. “I’m very thirsty.”

  Gabriel shuffled his feet some more, but then stepped away only to return a moment later. “Please take a seat as I open your door,” he said, his voice pleasant but insistent.

  Adilene sat next to Sasha on the cot, the wooden slats creaking under their weight.

  “What are you trying to do?” Sasha asked her as Gabriel inserted a key into the lock.

  The door opened, and the boy, looking almost exactly how Adilene had imagined him, stepped inside. He hurriedly laid a folded blanket on the floor as well as a glass jar filled partially with water. A ring of keys jangled at his waist as he bowed and exited the cell.

  “Are you seriously freezing?” Max asked from across the room.

 
“No, and I’m not thirsty either,” Adilene said. “But we need water to make something.”

  “Make what?” Max blurted.

  Adilene pressed a finger to her lips, desperately trying to quiet her boisterous friend. “A potion!” she whispered.

  “You’re delirious,” Sasha said. “They’ve taken my satchel. All my ingredients.”

  “We have water and a brewing cauldron with this glass. We can heat it up with the candle.” Adilene leaped off the cot and grabbed the blanket. “We can burn some of this to add extra heat to the fire.” Sasha opened her mouth to object, but Adilene cut her off. “And I have this.”

  She pulled a vial from her front pocket. All the rest of the potions she’d had hidden on her had been taken, along with Sasha’s supplies. But whoever had frisked her when she’d been unconscious had missed the single vial.

  Sasha sat up, a smirk forming on her lips. “What is that?”

  “Moholi Mixture,” Adilene replied.

  Sasha squinted. “No, it’s not. That’s just some weird gunk you poured into a test tube.”

  “Fine, it could be Moholi Mixture. It just needs a little extra work.”

  “What does it do?” Max moved over to Sasha’s cot.

  Sasha sighed. “For starters, if she had actually brewed a Moholi Mixture, we could remove these awful gloves or pour it on the lock and break out of here. But that stuff will probably just give off poisonous gas and kill us.”

  “Keep your voice down!” Adilene snapped. The guard might have left, but he could return at any moment. “Do you know how to Philter?”

  Sasha shrugged. “We need a deadening device like gold or cannonball lead to slow down the chemical reaction.”

  “Your earrings? Are they real or fake?” Adilene was glad she had paid such careful attention when Gordy had explained the process of Philtering during one of their brewing sessions.

  Sasha rolled her eyes. “Fake? Seriously? You know where I live.”

  “Then if they’re gold, we have a deadening device.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Sasha reasoned. “I’ve seen my mom do it once or twice, and I know the basic method, but . . .”

  “What does it hurt to try?” Adilene pressed her fingers to her temples, a headache forming. Gordy’s tonic must have worn off because her vision had begun to blur again. But that wasn’t the only thing causing her head to spin. Adilene could see things. Strange things. Chemicals and ingredients. Bottles and containers. Images from Gordy’s lab swirling about in a muddled mess.

  Heart racing, she uncorked the vial, and a multitude of flavors and scents filled her nostrils. “Is there any way we could use the ingredients from this potion to make another Moholi Mixture?”

  “If I had my hands”—Sasha rattled the metal clamps—“then maybe I could. But that’s not happening.”

  “Then you’ll just have to Project through me.” Adilene had hated that term since she first learned its meaning and instantly had her hopes of becoming an Elixirist dashed to pieces. But if it helped them escape, she would gladly allow Sasha to use her as an instrument.

  “I don’t know how to Project,” Sasha said. “It’s not like you can practice that.”

  “But Gordy—” Adilene started to argue.

  “Gordy’s different, okay!” Sasha interjected. “I don’t like to admit it, but he is. He’s better than I am. Better than everyone.”

  Adilene removed the candle from the lamp and placed it on the floor. “Come on, Sasha.” She held up the vial and gave her a nod of encouragement. “I know you can do this.”

  Sasha wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t think it will work.”

  “It’s okay,” Adilene insisted. “We just have to make the effort. Project through me and Max. Tell us what to do.”

  “Uh, you’re on your own for this,” Max grumbled, watching Adilene cautiously.

  Sasha slid off the cot and knelt next to Adilene. “Can you even see?” she asked.

  Adilene’s temples throbbed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and blurry shadows crowded the corners of her eyes. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “We can do this together.”

  “Okay,” Sasha said. “I’ll try.”

  A shaft of sunlight crept down from the hole above, the sound of the burbling stream now distant and muted. “Where are we?” Gordy’s voice echoed off the stone walls. Holding out the torch, the orange flames licking up the fuel-drenched fabric, Carlisle motioned for Gordy to follow him.

  Unlike before, when they had cut through the jungle at a breakneck pace, the old man walked alongside Gordy, his gait stumbling and slow. The cavern walls were too smooth to have been hollowed out by centuries of erosion. This was an actual pathway. After several minutes of walking through darkness, Gordy caught Carlisle by his sleeve, forcing him to stop.

  “No more walking until we figure this out,” Gordy said. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  Carlisle swallowed and nodded solemnly.

  “Are you showing me the way to find Mezzarix?”

  Again, a slight nod, Carlisle’s eyes glinting in the torchlight.

  “It’s a secret way,” Gordy clarified to himself. This tunnel was better than trying to ambush Ravian and the Atramenti out in the jungle, where they would have most likely been captured. A secret entrance gave Gordy the upper hand. A chance to spring his trap when Mezzarix least expected it.

  “Are you going to help me defeat my grandfather?” Gordy asked.

  Carlisle looked ready to nod but then dropped his eyes and started walking again. Gordy hurried to catch up with him.

  “He took over your island, you know? And those people are your people, right? He’s Blotched them all. I can help you get them back if you help me. I just . . . I can’t do this by myself.” Gordy had faced off against a number of foes, but none of them frightened him as much as Mezzarix.

  After another hundred yards through the tunnel, Carlisle arrived at a door. It was the same color and pattern of the stone surrounding it, and Gordy would have missed it had Carlisle not been there.

  Pulling firmly on the handle, Carlisle opened the door and stepped through. Gordy peered past him into a room no bigger than a standard walk-in closet. There was a mattress shoved in the corner, but there appeared to be nothing else inside. No furniture or books. Just a bed and a few blankets covered in dust.

  Reaching beneath the mattress, Carlisle felt around for a few moments before producing a box about the size of a deck of cards. He opened the box’s lid, revealing a glass vial brimming with an inky substance.

  “Is that Silt?” Gordy asked.

  Carlisle responded by handing him the bottle.

  “What do you want me to do with it?” With this much Silt, Gordy could stay invisible for more than an hour. He’d have no trouble sneaking up on Mezzarix. Is that why Carlisle had given it to him?

  Staring down at the bottle, Gordy suddenly remembered Ms. Bimini’s final warning that Silt could cause changes—possibly lasting changes. Like with Adilene’s eyesight. Should Gordy down the whole bottle, he might be in the same boat as Adilene.

  Carlisle gazed at Gordy sadly and held out a shaky finger, gesturing down the corridor. He handed over his torch and then stumbled to the mattress, where he sat down heavily. Kicking off his shoes, Carlisle slipped his feet under the sheets.

  “You’re not coming with me?” Gordy asked, baffled. “I don’t even know where I’m supposed to go!” How could Carlisle just abandon him?

  Then Gordy looked at the old man—really looked at him—and realized how old Carlisle was. He was exhausted and weak and just wanted to rest. Would his passing be like Ms. Bimini’s? Would Carlisle simply fade out of existence right before Gordy’s eyes?

  “Are you going to . . .” Gordy swallowed, not wanting to finish the question. Something in the way Carlisle
looked at him, though, seemed to answer it all the same.

  Gordy felt the urge to cry. Knowing this would be the last time he ever saw Carlisle, Gordy wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He entered the room and pulled the sheets up until they covered the old man’s chest, tucking him in as though he were a young child.

  A few seconds slipped by of painful wheezing, and Carlisle gave a final nod.

  Gordy patted his wrinkled hand in farewell, then closed the door to Carlisle’s room and walked into the cavern.

  Adilene’s fingers trembled as she picked up the botched Moholi Mixture and removed the cork. Fumes wafted from the bottle, smelling like licorice and dandelions. She had already torn several pieces of stale bread into chunks. One of Sasha’s gold earrings rested at the bottom of the glass. The water covering it hissed as Max stoked the candle flame with scraps of the woolly blanket.

  “One or two drops at first,” Sasha whispered, her eyes closed, concentrating. “Try not to get any on the edges of the glass.”

  Adilene wanted to close her eyes as well but knew someone needed to pay attention. Besides, brewing in the dark prison cell made her vision almost nonexistent. She wouldn’t dare admit it to the others, but she feared she might miss the target. Steadying her hand, she extended the vial over the lip of the glass and dribbled out two drops of liquid. The clear water grew clouded, and the potion’s fragrance increased in potency.

  Sasha peeked open one eye. “More,” she instructed. “Lots more. And don’t breathe in the smoke. It’s toxic.”

  Max held his breath, wafting the smoke away with his hand. Adilene poured in twelve drops, and the water began to bubble, darkening in color. Then she added the second earring. Something sparked across the surface, and Adilene jumped in surprise.

  “That’s normal,” Sasha said, her voice calm. “The gold is causing a chemical reaction with the other ingredients. Cover it quickly!” Her eyelids scrunched, her brow furrowing; she appeared to be mulling over the next step. “Um . . . how does it feel?”