The Potion Diaries

by Amy Alward

  The hurt on Katrina’s face stung as much as a slap. The real Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut and when she opened them again, the vision of their final conversation was gone.

  As though in reaction to the turn in her thoughts, the scene around her changed to sickening grey-green storm clouds, heavy with the likelihood of rain. She bit her lip hard, to stop the downpour of emotion that threatened to come.

  She had to be strong! That’s what Katrina liked about her, anyway. Katrina loved Evelyn as someone in control, decisive. A future Queen.

  Well, a Queen had to make hard decisions. That was just the way of it. And marrying Prince Stefan meant safety for Nova, happiness for her parents, a new alliance with a former enemy nation.

  All those things were so incredibly, overwhelmingly positive that she couldn’t possibly be blamed for making the decision to marry Prince Stefan. Then why these suffocating, infuriating feelings of guilt?

  The clouds drew around her like a shroud. She beat at them with her arms, flailing wildly, but it was no use. She sank down, let her head fall into her hands and allowed the clouds in.

  She knew why. It was the way she had gone about it. There had been nothing queenly about her actions – she had acted the coward. She’d let herself be swept away by the Novaen Secret Service after the explosion at the Laville Ball, hidden away as her power grew more overwhelming every day. When the Prince had come to her, it had seemed like the only way out. What a mess. If only she’d waited for Samantha before agreeing to marry Stefan. Samantha had figured out a way that Evelyn could have stored her extra power – like a magical battery.

  But instead, she’d gone ahead with the wedding and the next thing she knew, the weakness had taken over. She hadn’t even checked in to see how Katrina was doing.

  This was ridiculous. She was a Princess. She needed to wake up, to grow up, find Katrina and apologise. No more weakness. No more bed rest. No more sleeping.

  She stood up and with one sweep of her arm pushed the clouds of guilt away.

  ‘Now, I must wake up!’ she said aloud, as if the force of her request would be obeyed by her subconscious mind.

  ‘Wake up!’ she cried again.

  But nothing happened.

  The first creeping vines of doubt began to edge their way into her mind. Images of her worst fears flashed before her eyes, threatening to take up permanent residence. Katrina, turning away from her in disgust. Samantha’s store burning to the ground, a blazing inferno. Her citizens terrorised by an unknown enemy.

  Her hands gripped at her hair and she closed her eyes. ‘No,’ she said. She would not let nightmares in.

  ‘You can join us inside again. It’s safe here.’

  When she opened her eyes again, she saw Prince Ilie holding open an iron gate that was attached to an enormous stone wall, like the ones that used to surround medieval fortresses. Through the gap in the gate she could see a bustling town, full of quaint stone buildings and people dressed in traditional Gergonian clothes.

  ‘Safe from what?’ she asked, taking a step towards the gate.

  ‘From the nightmare-bringers.’ He opened it a little wider, and stretched out a gloved hand to meet hers.

  It did look inviting inside the walled town. And even though it would mean interacting with the Gergon Royals again, she wouldn’t be alone. She would have company inside the strange dream world, while she tried to figure out how to wake up.

  A flash of movement caught her eye, a trail of white smoke. She craned her neck back, and what she spotted made her heart stop.

  Oneiros. Dream-wraiths.

  She’d only ever heard of them in books. Creatures that lived solely in dreams – that could take a happy thought and turn it into a nightmare.

  ‘Come, quickly!’ the Prince said. ‘They’ll reach you soon. The walls keep us safe.’

  But Evelyn didn’t come. The oneiros were circling on top of the walled village, almost as if they were guarding it. The sight sent shivers down her spine. She wasn’t going to go anywhere near this walled-in place where so many of the creatures congregated.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Suit yourself.’ Prince Ilie saw her look of determination and slammed the gate shut in her face.

  She didn’t mind.

  She was Princess Evelyn. She was a Novaen Royal. And she was going to handle this dream world on her own.

  Let the oneiros come.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Samantha

  ‘HANG ON, EXPLAIN TO ME AGAIN WHY I need to take notes for you in class for the next week?’ asks Anita, sitting on the steps outside the door to our high school. She’s re-braiding her dark hair, so long it falls almost to her waist. ‘Yesterday you told me you were starring in your own documentary, and now you’re off to Zhonguo?’

  I cringe. ‘I know. But something came up yesterday.’

  ‘A secret alchemist mission.’

  ‘Yeah . . .’

  ‘That has to do with the mystery virus and Prince Stefan.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But you can’t tell me any more.’

  ‘Not yet . . .’

  ‘It’s a Master Alchemist thing, huh? What even is your life? Does Zain know about your trip yet?’

  ‘I’m meeting up with him later to tell him. I didn’t want to explain it over text.’

  Anita nods. ‘Good plan. If you need anything, you know Arjun and I are just a call away.’

  ‘I know. Thanks, Ani.’

  The bell rings behind us, so we gather up our book bags and swing them over our shoulders. Then my phone buzzes. ‘I better get this,’ I say to Anita, registering the central Novaen area code on the call. My heart leaps. It might be the Princess on a new number. ‘I’ll catch you up.’ Anita nods and waves, so I answer the call. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Sam? This is Daphne. Listen, I got your email and – though it’s a little crazy – I love your idea. It’s brilliant. Are you sure you’ve never had aspirations to work in TV? No? Never mind. Listen, it took a lot of wrangling from me – lord KNOWS things are tight at the studio – but we’ve got the permission and it’s full speed ahead! We’re only bringing along a skeleton crew so we can travel light – I can do almost everything with magic these days but some of the technology is finicky, so I’m bringing along an ordinary camerawoman. She’s great and she can do some of the techy stuff too. Magic’s no substitute for computer skills – I never bothered learning that stuff! Anyway, she comes highly recommended so it’s all going to go off without a hitch—’

  Daphne’s talking so fast, I can’t slip a single word into the conversation – until now. ‘Wait . . . what idea?’

  ‘Your idea! To film you going back to your roots in Zhonguo, discovering your past. The network’s going crazy for it, I tell you. It’s genius.’

  It takes me a couple of seconds to process her words.

  ‘You mean . . . you’re not going to postpone the filming?’

  ‘Postpone? Are you nuts? We’re not going to have an opportunity like this again! You leave on Thursday, right?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’ll see you with the film crew then. Ciao, babe.’

  She hangs up, and I’m left staring at the phone in disbelief. But then I think, what’s the harm? I set myself a reminder in my phone to ask Grandad to get the Waidan’s permission for the film crew to accompany us. If he says it’s okay, then I don’t see why they can’t come along.

  The rest of the school day passes ever-so-slowly, my eyes flicking up to the clock every thirty seconds. There’s so much I need to do to prepare that I’m itching to head back home. I’ve got a list going on my phone and it’s filling up with things like:

  – PACK POTION-MAKING KIT . . . what supplies??

  – LOOK UP VIDEOS ON HOW TO SAY BASIC PHRASES IN ZHONGUO (I don’t want to appear like a total ignorant Novaen)

  – DIG OUT HIKING BOOTS

  – DOWNLOAD ZHONGUO GUIDEBOOK OR FIND ONE IN LIBRARY

  I’m still adding
things to the list when the final bell rings and I’m out the door in a flash. My mind feels like it’s racing a million miles a minute. It’s spinning so much that when I get to the park I almost miss the moment a pile of fallen leaves lifts up and drifts through the air, morphing into shapes: a bird with flapping wings, a galloping horse and, finally, a heart. I just watch, transfixed by the shifting confetti of red and gold, and clap wildly when the leaves drop. I see the mastermind – Zain – standing with his wand outstretched like a conductor’s baton, orchestrating the dance of the leaves.

  Talenteds. They’re always showing off. But even as an ordinary – someone without the ability to use magic – I can appreciate the gesture. Plus, I’ve learned that there’s magic in being ordinary too. In not having to rely on any outside power, and in our ability to interact with the magical creatures and plants of the world without danger. Being ordinary enables me to be an alchemist, and I wouldn’t change that for all the Talented power in the world.

  ‘Hi,’ Zain says as he sees me. The way he looks at me sends a blush rising in my cheeks but before I can say anything back, he kisses me hard on the lips, and all thought temporarily disappears from my brain.

  ‘Hi,’ I say, a quivery mess when we break apart. Zain’s kisses do that to me. His fingers lace through mine and we walk down the leaf-topped path. The air is crisp, but I don’t feel a chill. Next to Zain, I feel nothing but warmth.

  ‘So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about? Still feeling okay about the documentary?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s not that. Listen, I got a lead yesterday on the virus.’

  ‘A lead? What sort of lead?’

  ‘The kind I have to investigate . . . I spoke to the Waidan of Long-shi.’

  Zain whistles low. ‘How did you manage that?’

  ‘Grandad.’

  Zain chuckles. ‘Makes sense.’

  ‘Anyway, so I described Evie’s symptoms to him and he might have an idea of what’s causing it. But I have to go there myself to find out. To Zhonguo.’

  To Zain’s credit, he takes this announcement totally within his stride, barely missing a beat. I guess he’s come to expect that life with me at the moment is never normal for long. ‘Long-shi . . . isn’t that where they found that buried village a few months ago?’

  I frown. ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t you ever watch the newscasts? It was a really cool story about archaeologists uncovering an ancient alchemical monastery that had been buried by a lava flow.’

  ‘I think that rings a bell. So, can you come with me? Can you get out of uni for a week?’

  He blinks. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Deadly. I could really use your help out there.’

  He pauses, and the ghost of a smile creeps onto his face. ‘I can try. Maybe I can swing it so I don’t have to go back at all.’

  I squeeze his arm. ‘Really not enjoying it, huh?’

  He shrugs. ‘I know Synths and Potions is supposed to be my “perfect” major, what I’m most passionate about. It’s what I’ve been working towards my whole life! But to be honest, I think I hate it. It’s my dad’s job, not mine.’

  ‘What you would do instead?’ I ask.

  He pulls away from me and shoves his hands deep in his jacket pockets. ‘No clue.’

  A cool breeze wraps its way around my body, making me shiver. I touch the sleeve of his jacket. ‘You don’t have to have it all figured out.’

  ‘Easy for you to say, Master Alchemist. You’re making your own path and I’m following my father every step of the way.’

  ‘Hey!’ I freeze, indignant. If anyone knows how hard I worked to get that title, Zain does.

  Zain scuffs his foot along the ground. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it. Look, Daphne wanted this documentary to be about you. I’m just supporting cast. I think you should go to Long-shi on your own.’

  ‘What? No . . . Don’t be stubborn—’

  ‘I’m not being stubborn,’ he interrupts (in my opinion, stubbornly).

  ‘But I need you.’

  ‘No, you don’t. Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I have a paper to write.’ He spins on his heels and walks towards the park exit.

  By contrast, my feet are rooted to the floor. I feel like if I move, I’ll fall over: his total 180 in attitude has sent my world spinning on its axis.

  I look down at my watch. Anita should be out of school now. I dig my phone out of my pocket, dial her number, and wait anxiously for her to pick up.

  ‘Anita?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I think Zain and I have had our first fight.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  Samantha

  I FOLD A T-SHIRT NEATLY AND PUT IT IN THE small rolling suitcase I’m taking to Zhonguo. Anita lies on my bed – she’s supposed to be helping me, but she’s too distracted trying to process my conversation with Zain.

  Finally, she sits up and stares me in the face. ‘He’s threatened. He’s threatened and now he’s scared and he’s hurt.’

  ‘Threatened? By what?’

  ‘By you, stupid.’

  I scoff.

  ‘No, think about it. You’ve got so much figured out already – you know your life plan and passion and you’re damn good at it. You’re on a mission that might save the Princess again – with a film crew who want to make it into this incredible story – and he doesn’t know what’s happening in his life. You’ve told me he’s confused about his major, thinking about dropping out of uni, his best friend has gone totally incommunicado, and now his super kick-ass girlfriend is reminding him just how super kick-ass she is. He’s just lashing out. He will be back, I promise you.’

  I stop packing for a moment and sit down cross-legged on my bedroom floor. ‘Dragons, why is it all so complicated?’

  ‘Probably because people aren’t potions, Sam. Just because you have all the right ingredients doesn’t mean they’re going to mix properly.’

  ‘Hmm, I suppose so.’

  Anita laughs. She can tell that’s not what I want to hear. ‘You guys will figure it out. It’s your first fight. After all, you have the best chemistry.’

  I groan at the pun and throw a pair of rolled-up socks at her head.

  ‘But enough about Zain,’ Anita continues. ‘And I know you can’t tell me anything more about the trip. Tell me more about the documentary! That’s so exciting that they want to continue to do the show even though you’ll be travelling.’

  ‘I know! It surprised me.’

  ‘Not me. People are desperate for a distraction. Did you read the piece in the Novaen Mail about how the Princess has cheated the country out of a national holiday by not having a big, televised wedding? And they’re claiming that not showing us the wedding dress is a violation of our human rights!’

  ‘Well, that’s just nuts.’

  ‘I know. But the media are desperate to fill the giant hole that is Princess Evelyn’s disappearing act. Enter, stage left, Samantha Kemi – alchemist extraordinaire, saviour of the Princess, beloved of the people . . .’

  ‘Okay, you can stop that now!’ I fiddle with the zip on my suitcase, trying to get everything to fit inside. ‘But what if I’m no good at it? They want to film it “reality” style, as if I don’t even know the cameras are there – well, apart from the “one-on-one” interviews. Reality television means you have to be natural. What if I’m a total flake? You remember what happened on my last television interview and this is going to be much more intense.’

  ‘You don’t have any more deep, dark family secrets to reveal, do you?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Then you’ll be fine. The worst thing that will happen will be if you hate the film crew. You’re going to be spending a couple of weeks in each other’s pockets, in Zhonguo and here. It could be annoying.’

  I bite my lip. ‘I hadn’t thought about that.’

  ‘You’ll be fine. Despite your grouchy ways, you’re pretty easy to get along with.’

  ‘Can’t you
come with me?’

  ‘What? No. Besides, someone needs to take your notes, remember?’

  This is what I love about Anita. I don’t even have to ask her – she just knows exactly what to say (and do).

  ‘Thanks,’ I reply. ‘By the way, how’s it going with Jacob?’ I ask slyly. Jacob is in our joint geography class, and he asked Anita out not long after she came back from helping me at Lake Karst. I’m sure he’s had a crush on her for much longer than that, but took a while to pluck up the courage.

  ‘All right,’ she says, blushing a shade of peach. I put down the pair of jeans I’m folding. If she’s shy, that means it’s getting serious.

  ‘You’ve been on a few dates now . . .’

  ‘It’s almost our one month anniversary,’ she says with a small smile. ‘I have no idea what to get him though.’

  ‘Are you supposed to get him something?’

  ‘Did you get something for Zain?’

  ‘Well, we technically hadn’t been on a first date yet, so what day would we even use for an anniversary?’

  ‘What about the mountain top?’

  ‘Hmm, if that was the case then our first month anniversary would’ve been on a plane to Runustan trying to track down my great-grandmother’s potion diary . . . so I wouldn’t have been in the best place to think about a gift.’

  Anita frowns. ‘Oh yeah, I forgot about that – and how quickly you guys have moved. Do you still feel good about it all?’

  I stop and think for a second.

  Rosehip and grace of a woodland elf – for reflection on your feelings, to establish and diagnose emotional problems, to find the necessary remedy.

  ‘I think so,’ I say, honestly. ‘When I’m with him, I feel like I can do anything. He gives me that confidence and I never feel like I have to hide who I am.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Anita grins.

  ‘Plus he’s really hot,’ I say, waggling my eyebrows.

  Anita laughs and throws a pair of socks at my head. But all I can think is one thing:

  I really hope he comes with me to Zhonguo. I check my phone out of habit, but there are no messages from him.