Long Isle Iced Tea

by Gina LaManna

  “Thank you. I’m going to go to the supply store, and we’ll meet back here this afternoon.”

  “Lily.”

  “Hmm?”

  “You knew the Mix for the antidote when you walked in here this morning.” Gus reverently reached over my shoulder and clasped the vial in his hand. “It had nothing to do with my filtering the ingredients out. What happened?”

  “I don’t know that I’ve figured anything out.”

  “You have a strong theory.”

  I debated telling Gus how I’d reached my solution. I hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of sharing my work before I deemed it complete. Poppy called me a perfectionist. I preferred the term prepared.

  “Forget it,” Gus said. “I’m just the assistant. I shouldn’t have pressed—”

  “Wish magic,” I said, deciding in that instant that Gus didn’t deserve me keeping secrets from him. He’d shown nothing but loyalty to me, and I owed him that in return. “You heard Lizzie explain it the other day.”

  “Some.”

  “Well, in its inherent form, wish magic is only ever used for good.”

  “It’s impossible to use it in any other way.”

  I raised my finger. “So everyone thought.”

  “But…”

  “Wish magic is believed to only be used for positive, ever. Many people made many selfish wishes, and they never came true. Of course everyone believed the legends.”

  “But?”

  “But a smart man, or woman, might’ve figured out how to flip it. How to use the power against itself.”

  “Just like with X yesterday,” Gus said, eyes brightening. “It was only by his own power that he managed to be defeated. Is that what triggered your solution?”

  “Partially. It also helped that I saw an excellent shooting star, and I debated wishing on it. Then I found myself wondering how anyone could’ve come up with a sort of magic you’d never heard about. I’m still new here, but you—you’re the most knowledgeable person on The Isle.”

  “I admit it’s peculiar.”

  “Then I realized it had to be magic that had always existed, just in a different form.”

  “Twisted or morphed or—”

  “Flipped,” I finished. “That’s why I need the silver. To reverse its power, just like I used it to do with my Jinx and Tonic solution.”

  “Pieces of this magic are similar to blood magic.”

  “Yes, and we know that blood magic takes an unwilling, often a good person, and turns them. It’s like blood magic on a massive scale.”

  “The Faction took Wishery,” Gus said, frowning in thought. “And used their own wish magic against the citizens.”

  “They turned the protection inside out and pushed the rightful residents of Wishery away.”

  “And there’s a way to reverse it?”

  “I’m first going to add pure silver, then compliment it with stardust granules to stabilize it in its original form.”

  Gus sat heavily on the bench at the table, folding his hands in front of him. “That’s not half bad, Miss Locke.”

  If the situation hadn’t been so dire already, I’d bask in the compliment for a while longer. Instead, I brushed my hands on my legs and stood, gathering a small vial for the road, along with my keys. “I’ll be back soon. Tonight, we’ll prep the potion. It should be ready in three days.”

  “Are you headed to the supply store? While you’re there, will you pick up some extra beet sugar?” Gus asked. “What do you think about using it to sweeten the Long Isle Iced Teas? Would turn the beverages pink.”

  At this suggestion, his ears turned the color of said beets, and even I couldn’t refrain from a grin. “That’s a brilliant idea. Poppy will love it.”

  Gus bowed his head. “I’ll prepare your workstation.”

  I nodded another thank you, then turned to leave. However, I hesitated and turned back to Gus. “You asked if I wanted to talk. Did you mean it?”

  Gus’s hands shook, and he pressed his fingers into the table to hide the tremors. “You seemed like you needed an outlet. Didn’t want you to lose it, too.”

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s not my place to—”

  “You’re my assistant, and I’m asking your advice,” I said, soft but firm. “Should I cut ties with X? At least emotionally until he figures himself out?”

  “It might be the easiest solution.” Gus met my gaze head on, unflinching. “As Trinket said, that is your first and most direct option.”

  My arms felt like Jell-O as I processed. I bit my lip so hard it burned, and still, I couldn’t force my head to nod in agreement. My hand turned the doorknob, the front door opening to reveal sunlight and…a gnome.

  “What did I tell you about getting a stool or something for us height challenged folks?” Chuck stomped through the doorway, not bothering to notice my shell-shocked expression.

  “What in tarnation are you doing here?” Gus growled at the gnome. “Lily’s got more to worry about than your culture’s superstitions. You got a problem? Solve it yourself. She’s not your policeman.”

  “Gus,” I said. “It’s okay, I—”

  “Listen here, both of you.” Chuck stuck his finger out, spinning between us with an accusatory point. “You made fun of me last time. Mocked me. I was upset, but I got over it because I’m concerned.”

  “We really are sorry—” I started, but Chuck hushed me mid-sentence.

  “I’m not looking for an apology,” he snapped. “What’s done is in the past. I came here knowing that you probably think I’m delusional. Well, that’s your problem. Here’s the deal; there’s someone, or something, making a home out of that abandoned shack, and I bet the Witch of the Woods wouldn’t be happy to find out about it.”

  Gus spoke first. “I don’t think the Witch of the Woods cares about a cat wandering through her territory.”

  “It’s not a cat!” Chuck’s fingers balled into fists. “There’s been more movement than ever—smoke coming out of the chimney and shadows lurking behind the windows. Someone saw a huge animal around there the other day, and we think it belongs to the owner of the house.”

  “What sort of animal?” Gus asked. “A cat? I already told you—”

  I held up a hand for Gus to quiet. Surprisingly, he obeyed.

  “I’m asking for a favor.” Chuck turned to me, throwing his hands wide open. “Nobody else will listen. You might’ve been mocking me, but at least you came with me last time. The Rangers threw me out before I got past the front desk.”

  “Wonder why,” Gus muttered. “They don’t have time for hallucinations.”

  “It’s not a hallucination!” Chuck growled. “My entire family saw the smoke. There’s spirits at work there, or something else. Lily, you’ve got to believe me.”

  “I do,” I said.

  “You have to trust me this time…” Chuck continued for a while before processing what I’d said. “Sorry, what? I thought you said you believed me.”

  “I do,” I said, giving Gus a tight smile over Chuck’s shoulder. “The other day when I was harvesting Dust of the Devil from The Forest, I saw smoke myself.”

  “I told you!” Chuck triumphantly fisted the air. “I’m not going nuts!”

  “You shouldn’t be excited to realize that,” Gus mumbled.

  Chuck scowled, then decided to ignore Gus and faced me instead. “What do you think, Miss Lily?”

  “Lily,” I corrected. “I think I should get the Rangers involved. Something’s going on there, but I don’t think I’m the right person to handle it.”

  “They won’t listen.”

  “They’ll listen,” I said. “I am positive.”

  Chuck considered this for a long moment. “I suppose you are the Mixologist. Probably have more pull than I do.”

  Gus chuckled darkly. “That, and she’s dating Ranger X.”

  Chuck paled. “Oh, er—right.”

  “Gus,” I said sharply. “That has nothing t
o do with this. I’ll talk to Poppy—my cousin works dispatch at Ranger HQ.”

  “That would be most appreciated,” Chuck said. “The Rangers, they’ll send a team out there?”

  “We’ll get it taken care of,” I assured him. “I promise. I’m on my way to the supply store now, and I’ll talk to Mimsey and Poppy if they’re around.”

  Chuck seemed mystified that he hadn’t had to argue more before getting through to me. He bumbled around some, knocking into the doorway as he stumbled toward the exit. At the last moment, he raised a hand and saluted me. “Thank you, Miss Lily. It was a pleasure to uh, meet you. Er—do business with you. Thank you.”

  Gus shook his head as the gnome disappeared. “He says he’s not hallucinating, but—”

  “Gus,” I said sharply, and left it at that. “I’m going to find Mimsey and Poppy. I’ll be back after I speak with them. Can you get that stardust for me?”

  “Lily, wait,” he called when I had a foot on the front step.

  I waited until he’d click-clacked with his cane to the front door and rested a shoulder against one edge. “Yes?”

  “Earlier, I told you that cutting ties with X would be the easiest solution.”

  “Yes.”

  “I said it would be easiest.” A grim expression settled on his face. “I didn’t say it’d be for the best.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  Striding toward the supply store, I contemplated this as my feet crunched first over sand, then over the well-worn gravel path. The supply store sat near The Twist, a short jaunt from the bungalow. I made it quickly, despite my mind being somewhere far away.

  “Mimsey?” I called after the bell on the front door tinkled to announce my arrival. Winding my way through stacks upon stacks of antique looking supplies, I searched my aunt’s usual hiding place. “It’s me! Do you have beet sugar? Oh, and silver. I’m looking for the extra pure stuff—”

  I halted immediately after rounding a table piled so high with dusty books it begged to rival the Eiffel Tower.

  “Mimsey?!”

  She sat behind the register, a big floppy hat wilting around her face. Her rose-pink sundress hung limp around her squashy figure, fluttering lifelessly around her ankles, and her face—streaked with tears—matched the color of her dress.

  “What’s wrong?” I went to her, scrambling to perch next to her on the desk. “Talk to me. What happened?”

  She sniffed so loudly and so powerfully she shuddered. “It’s Poppy.”

  “What about her?”

  “Did you see the paper this morning?”

  “Are you talking about Magdalena Sprite?”

  “Yes. It’s the second disappearance this week.”

  “I know, it’s horrible. But the Rangers are looking into it. They’ll catch whoever’s responsible. If someone’s responsible.”

  “Someone is behind this.” Mimsey spoke with a deep voice, calm, yet angry. “That’s why I told Poppy.”

  “Told her what?”

  “The truth!”

  My heart sank as Mimsey’s shoulders shuddered. “About what?”

  “Everything. Her adoption, the SINGLES program, my fear that she was a high-risk target if it truly is The Faction is recruiting.”

  My heart thumped, palms sweating. “And?”

  “And she’s gone.”

  “What do you mean gone?”

  Mimsey took far too long to respond, her floppy hat slipping lower over her eyes. Her stare fell vacantly on me. “She’s gone.”

  Chapter 17

  IT TOOK SOME TIME TO convince Mimsey that everything would be fine. Even when I pulled myself to my feet and Mimsey’s shoulders had stopped shaking, neither of us were convinced I was right.

  “I have to get going,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I wish I could stay longer. Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the bungalow with me? Or I could send Trinket over?”

  “She’s home with the kids today,” Mimsey said, waving a hand and standing next to me. “I’ll be fine, really. Let me gather those things you need. You said something about beets…silver beets? No, I’m not thinking straight. What can I get you, dear?”

  “We can do this later.”

  “No, please, it’ll help me to have something to focus on.”

  “Beet sugar and silver. The purest silver you have.”

  “Of course.” She bustled behind the counter and fretted for the supplies, returning with her hands full. “Is this plenty?”

  “More than enough,” I said, accepting the goods. “I have to get back to the bungalow, but I’ll swing by Trinket’s first and see if any of them have heard from Poppy. Poppy isn’t gone anywhere. She probably just went for a walk or something to calm down. It’s a lot to process.”

  “Maybe,” Mimsey said, but her face furrowed in a frown.

  “Are you sure Poppy didn’t give any indication of where she was going?”

  “We talked over breakfast, and then she took off. I couldn’t even tell if she was feeling sad or angry or confused or…all of it, I suppose.”

  “We all process things in different ways.”

  “She should be back by now. It’s been hours.”

  “This is big news for her.” I gathered the supplies into a bag, then returned my gaze to Mimsey. “She might be a little upset, but she’ll come around—I promise. She won’t stay angry with you for long…if she’s even angry at all. I’m sure she’s swimming in confusion, and nothing more.”

  “Why won’t she let me help her with it?! I’ll answer any of her questions, hold her if she wants to cry, let her scream at me if that’ll make her feel better.”

  Flickers of my leaving X with a decision to make alone returned in waves. “Maybe that’s not what she needs. Maybe she just needs to think.”

  “Maybe,” Mimsey said. “But I’m her mother. No matter what.”

  “She will be back in no time. I’m going to look around for her, I’ll ask Trinket, I’ll mention it to Ranger X. In fact—” I held up the bottle of beet sugar— “this is for her birthday party. It’ll turn the Long Isle Iced Teas into a brilliant pink color.”

  “Oh, she’ll love that.” Mimsey’s face crumpled into a smile, and a few tears leaked out. “She’ll adore that. Thank you, Lily.”

  We shared another hug, and then Mimsey walked me to the front door. I made her promise to let me know the second she heard from Poppy. I promised to do the same.

  Tucking the bag of supplies under my arm, I altered my course to swing by Trinket’s house instead of returning to the bungalow. The neat front yard appeared before me quicker than expected; I’d sunk deep into my thoughts, into the swirl of concern around X, Wishery, and now Poppy.

  Surely, she hadn’t gone far. When I’d found out that most of my life had been a lie—the day Mimsey and Trinket had waltzed into my life—I’d needed time to process, too.

  It’d taken awhile for me to wrap my brain around a whole new world, and Poppy was likely doing the same thing now. If only I could find out where she’d gone to process, it’d save the rest of her family a lot of heartache.

  I mentally crossed my fingers as I raised my hand to the front door and knocked. I’d made my way through the perfect white picket fence, over the closely cropped grass, and through the quaintly landscaped gardens without noticing an inch of it.

  Only now, as I waited for someone to answer my knock, did I scan the surroundings with a new curiosity. Roses bloomed along a trellis next to the stairs, the scent too potent for the moment. Too sweet, too bright.

  I exhaled a sigh of relief when Trinket herself opened the door with an unamused expression on her face.

  “Hi, sorry to bother you,” I said, my shoulders tense. “Is Zin around?”

  “Why would she be around?”

  “Um,” I hesitated. “She’s your daughter?”

  “And?”

  “And…she live
s here?”

  Trinket gave me a startled look, which for her was quite rare. Few things in this world shocked Trinket. “Zin hasn’t lived here for two weeks,” she said, struggling to appear indifferent.

  It felt like my chest had caught a sack of bricks. The air snapped from my lungs, and I was left gasping for a breath. “What?”

  “She moved out after our last…” Trinket blew air out in a small spiral. “Disagreement.”

  “Where did she go? What is she doing? Why didn’t she tell anyone?”

  “Perhaps she’s embarrassed. She threw quite a tantrum, and then stomped out of here like a petulant child.”

  “Where did she go? How?”

  “How? I imagine she walked, just like everyone else.” Trinket crossed her arms over her chest. “Where? I have no idea.”

  “How can you have no idea?!”

  “Because she didn’t tell me.”

  “She’s your daughter! Haven’t you tried to look? Didn’t you ask her? Or ask around, or look for her?”

  “Until you have children of your own, do not criticize my parenting, Lily.” Trinket stepped through the front door and closed it behind her, lowering her voice to a hiss. “Zinnia is a thoroughly capable adult working for the most prestigious security group on this island. I think she can handle herself.”

  “But you are her mother! Don’t you care where she went?”

  “She has chosen not to speak to me.” The first flicker of uncertainty crossed Trinket’s face, but she banished it instantly. “I will not beg her to change her mind. I will not go crawling to apologize to her. She can come to me when she’s ready.”

  “But…” My heart ached for her, for Mimsey, for Zin and for Poppy. For my own mother, who might have had advice for a moment like this.

  “But nothing,” Trinket said, ending the conversation. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “Have you seen Poppy?”

  “Poppy? No, not for a few days. Why?”

  “She’s gone missing.”

  “Missing?” Trinket straightened. “Where? When?”

  “Apparently, she had a difficult conversation with her mother,” I said wryly. “And she wandered off afterward.”

  “I don’t like your tone.”

  “Well, I’m worried about your daughter. And Poppy. They’re my family, too.”