by Gina LaManna
I tossed my clothes in the laundry bin, then padded over to pull the drawer open. I hadn’t checked on the note in some time, and for all I knew, my surprise guest had been back with an update.
As I bent to remove the paper, I heard it. The noise wasn’t so much a creak, nor was it a breath—it wasn’t anything I could put my finger on. It was the mere feeling that I wasn’t alone. Someone else was in my room.
Nonchalantly, I climbed into bed, feigning a loud yawn as I pulled the covers to my chin and forced my breathing to slow. I carefully arranged the covers so they’d be easy to throw back. The last thing I needed was to trip over my sheets and hex myself senseless when I launched my attack.
With a subtle glance, I confirmed the closet door remained shut, just as I’d left it. The rest of the room looked empty as I scanned it a second and third time, which left precious few places for someone to hide—unless somehow the guest had skills to become invisible.
Just when I’d begun to doubt myself and chalk up my nerves to paranoia, it happened again. The slightest whisper of movement, intangible save for the confidence that burned through me.
Whoever had broken into my room was close, too close.
Another slight creak, and this time—it came from underneath my bed.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled and exhaled, struggling to feign sleep even as I raised my hands and mustered the most potent Stunner Spell I could master. I waited until it had grown as powerful as possible, and then I let loose.
Bellowing the incantation, I slashed my fingers toward the underbelly of the bed as I leapt from the mattress. I hoped X heard the incantation, but when the spell flashed and banged and there was no sign of footsteps, I realized the storm outside had drowned out any noise I’d made.
Ducking gingerly to peer under the bed, I lifted the edge of the sheet with caution, prepared to leap away at the first sign of movement. Luckily, I didn’t have to do any such thing.
To my surprise, the spell had worked fantastically. Sure enough, there lay an intruder motionless under my bed. From this angle, I couldn’t recognize him. I’d have to haul him out and to get a better look.
I debated running down to retrieve X first, but I couldn’t risk the man somehow waking from the spell and escaping. He’d come here for a reason, and I needed to know what. I needed to know he’d worked alone.
With a heavy sigh, I grabbed one suspiciously large foot and yanked.
Together, we sailed away from the bed. I scrambled wildly to land on my feet, while the man remained rigid in his frozen state and thunked unceremoniously against my dresser. I winced as a picture teetered on top and then crash-landed onto the man’s stomach.
The slightest oomph escaped his mouth, though his lips couldn’t move with the effort.
“Sorry,” I said, scrambling to my feet and snatching the frame. I tossed it onto the bed in my haste to not break eye contact. “Actually, why am I apologizing to you? Who are you and why were you creeping under my bed?”
The man’s face was frozen, along with the rest of him, so I took a moment to study his appearance. He was short in stature, but a bit round in the middle, and he had one eyeglass—a monocle—that had fallen from his eye at my spell. It now dangled from the side of his face, and in another life, he could have been the Monopoly man. Except for the hat. He had no hat, only the firm salt-and-peppered hair color of someone who’d passed middle age a while back.
“I don’t know if I should unfreeze you,” I said. “Can you blink?”
The man attempted to do so; I could see the struggle in his glassy eyes, but he failed.
“I’m going to get Ranger X,” I said. “Sorry in advance, since he won’t like the fact that you made yourself comfortable in my private space.”
I was halfway to the door when he spoke. The word was a pale representation of English, a guttural sigh, but distinct. “No.”
I spun on a heel. “No, what? Don’t get him? No offense, but I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be listening to you. You’re in my house.”
“Wh—” gasp—“Wait.”
Still proud of how potent my spell had been, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. The spell would wear off slowly, unfreezing his face first so he could talk. The rest of the body would follow minutes later.
“Fine,” I said. “But the second I see you wiggling so much as a little finger, I’m siccing the Head Ranger on you. If you don’t know him, well, you should. He’s nobody you want to mess with.”
“Your fiancé,” the man said, warming to the use of his voice. “Congratulations, by the way. I’ll send a gift.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Who are you, and how do you know that? Nobody knows we’re engaged.”
“I,” he said, with a smile slow as molasses, “am the Master of Mischief.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“Surely it does.” A disappointed gleam settled in his eye. “I had to test you, Lily Locke. I’m sorry for the hassle.”
“Test me for what?”
He sighed, struggling for air.
“Wait,” I said. “I know a better way to do this.”
The travel belt had come with me upstairs since I’d worn it earlier, and I’d removed it only with yesterday’s clothes. Moving to the mysterious man’s side, I reached down and muttered a Sharpening Spell to slice off the smallest corner of his suit coat.
“Wha...” His voice faltered in and out.
“It’s something new I’m trying out,” I offered. “You won’t have to explain aloud if I can see your memories. It’s a new potion.”
It seemed like the man tried to nod, remembered he couldn’t, and settled for a sigh.
Uncapping the vial of shimmering golden liquid, I brought it to my lips, trembling with anticipation. This was it—the moment of truth. Do or die, as they said. Before I could back out, I arranged myself in a sitting position on the floor, closed my eyes, and swallowed the Amuletto Kiss.
The mixture tasted light and pleasant, floral almost, and sweet. It went down easy and sent a nice little shiver over my spine. I forced myself to relax as I felt the Mix moving through my veins, seeping into my legs, my back, and eventually, my spine and brain.
Then, it happened quick as the snap of a finger.
My thoughts, my feelings and concerns, my wants and needs—suddenly they were no more. Instead I floated freely, suspended in a vat of air somehow, waiting, waiting for something to happen. For what I couldn’t quite say. I could hardly think.
Then at once, another shudder rocked my spine and a new set of thoughts, of feelings and concerns, wants and needs, descended over me. Even in my altered state, I could sense the potion had worked. Then, with a quiet bubbling sound, even that feeling faded to nothing, and I was him. Completely and utterly him.
My mind—his mind—flashed through a roll of memories too quick to decipher. There was a face looking down at me, old and wizened, with concern in his eyes.
Then there were more images—people, beautiful people everywhere. Women and men, and a sign. The sign was wooden with blurred text—Olympia—and then that vanished, too.
Next, I saw my hands pouring bubbles across a bridge, feeling Long Isle Iced Tea glide down my throat as I watched my body morph into Ranger X. I saw a field of Forgotten Ferns one minute, and then the next, they were gone. I saw tomatoes—so many tomatoes. I said a spell, and they were gone. I saw a note resting gently in the drawer beside the bed.
That was it.
The Amuletto Kiss left me with a whirl, and suddenly I was back. I was Lily, my memories slamming back into a shaky body. The familiar exhaustion and fear and frustration I’d felt before taking the potion hit with startling clarity. Along with those feelings came the end of a loneliness, and in place of the loneliness curled the warm embrace of all consuming love. With a start, I realized I’d learned nearly as much about myself as I had the man lying on the ground.
He watched me, his eyes having gained some responsiveness in the t
ime I’d been swallowed by the potion, and he looked downright shocked. “That was incredible. What do you call it?”
“Where is Olympia?”
If he could’ve moved, he would’ve flinched. Instead, his face pinched incredulously. “What did you do? You can’t have read my mind. That’s impossible—you’re not a registered mind reader.”
“No matter.” I stood. “So, Master of Mischief—”
I stopped abruptly. I sized him up. My brain clicked faster, faster still, until I understood. I smiled down at him as it registered. “You’re the Keeper.”
He swallowed, sucked in a deeper breath that sounded painful. “I want to know how you did that.”
“You serve the Master of Magic,” I said. “Was that him I saw in your memories? The old man? It seemed...” I hesitated, remembering... “You feel love for him. A platonic, selfless sort of love.”
“You did it. You read my thoughts, my memories.” He looked utterly mystified. “You’re even more peculiar than they told me.”
“Shut up and talk to me—I still don’t know if I trust you,” I said. “You have been ruining my life, barging into my room, wreaking havoc on the island. Why?”
“I am the Keeper, and I do not have your best interests at heart. I serve the Master of Magic alone. I’ve merely been sent to you because he is in grave danger, and it’s my belief you can help us.”
“Why me?”
“You’re the only Mixologist in existence. And, judging by how quickly you picked up on Olympia, you might have some descendent blood in those veins. Again, I’m sorry for testing you, but it’s my duty to be thorough. It’s only I who can expose the Master’s existence, and I’d never forgive myself if I let the wrong person through to him.”
“Explain. I saw that it was you pulling all those stupid pranks on The Isle. How is stealing tomatoes testing me?”
“Ah, you see, it was a test on so many levels. I had to strain you: your loyalties, your relationships, the goodness of your heart. I left you the note, you see, to use what you have. It was I, too, who took Peter’s letter from your drawer and had it printed.” He hesitated, looking toward me with an almost affectionate gleam in his eye. “In case you’re curious, you have passed.”
“What did I use that I already had? How was that a hint?”
“You used your loyalty, your love, your compassion, your intelligence and wit, and your determination.” He offered a confident smile. “Look at yourself. You’ve created a Mix more complex and potent than anything I’ve ever witnessed. Your loyalty never once wavered, even in the face of great distress. Instead of pulling apart from your loved ones, you are closer than ever.” He paused, then winked. “Again, congratulations on the engagement. A moment that could have torn you and your lover apart survived the darker days and flourished. I applaud you.”
I fought back the boiling of my blood for all the unnecessary stress he’d caused. But even as I bit back a retort, I wondered if his hijinks hadn’t been a blessing in disguise. It was true. The stress had broken me, worn me, pushed me further than I’d ever gone before.
The darkest times, however, brought out the brightest flame. And in the moment of bright flame, I’d created Amuletto Kiss. I’d found the courage to fall deeper into love and promise myself to my soulmate. I’d gone on my own journey and succeeded.
“I’m truly sorry,” he said. “I’m also sorry for the Soul Suck—the mystery traces on the spell? That’s Keeper magic. It’s unique, probably as the former Keeper explained to you upon your visit. The Forgotten Ferns, that too.”
“You ruined people’s livelihoods,” I told him. “It’s not fair the others have to suffer because of me.”
“Oh, they won’t—not really. I will have everything returned before I leave—refunded, replanted, or otherwise.”
“Fine,” I said shortly. “What about the guy after Poppy? Or my tail on the mainland?”
He frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about either of those.”
“Now’s not the time to lie.”
“I have no need to lie.”
He sounded so convincing, I was tempted to believe him. “But if not you...” I trailed off, not wanting to give him any insights to more of my personal life. “Forget it. That’s all you’re responsible for?”
He thought back. “Yes.”
“And?”
He raised his eyebrows. “And?”
“What’s next?”
“Lily,” he said, moving to a sitting position. He noted my defensive shift with a wave of his hand. “Please, come here.”
“No.”
“You already know where you need to go,” he said patiently. “Now, let me show you the way to the Master. I won’t hurt you—he’s too precious to me. You’re being sent to help him.”
Against my better judgement, I eased forward and kneeled next to him.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed, and I closed them.
The lightest touch came next, a feathery fingerprint against the center of my forehead. It gently warmed, and then faded to nothing.
“I didn’t feel anything.” I opened my eyes. “What did you do?”
“Think hard of the Master of Magic,” he said. “Focus on his face, the city of Olympia.”
I did as he asked, concentrating on the images that had flickered through my mind during the Amuletto Kiss journey. Suddenly, I understood. I knew the way to Olympia, to the Master of Magic. I could see it just as clearly as if he’d laid a map in the palm of my hand.
“Where...?” I squinted, trying to place it in a country or a state, but I couldn’t. I just knew the turns to take, the roads to follow, the path toward my future.
“Go,” he said gently. “You and one other will be guided there. My work here is now done.”
“Someone’s coming with me?”
“You’ll have a friend,” he said with a smile. “One other will join you on the journey, and a third will follow behind.”
“Okay,” I said, sensing that was all he’d say. “I have one more question.”
“What’s that, Mixologist?”
“Lily,” I corrected. “Did you come here today because of the Keeper’s spell? Whatever he did to me back in his home?”
“I’ll admit, I was surprised to catch a whiff of an old friend. How is Jonah, by the way? He taught me everything I know.”
“He’s...content,” I said, and I meant it. “I think he’d waited a long time to help me.”
We shared an almost friendly smile. Then the Keeper’s smile turned into a frown, a forlorn look in his eyes as the windows rattled and the storm shook the very bones of the house.
“Good luck, my friend,” he said softly. “Though it won’t be luck you’ll be needing.”
“What will it be?”
The answer never came.
As I watched, the Master of Mischief shimmered, then disappeared before my eyes. I didn’t move for quite some time, the shock and awe settling around me as I waited.
“Lily?” Ranger X eased into the room some time later, looking first to the bed, then widening his eyes, his voice escalating as he saw the emptiness. “Lily?!”
I started, then pulled myself to my feet.
“Lily, what are you doing sitting on the floor? Did something happen? Are you okay?”
I managed to shake my head, though I couldn’t seem to utter a response. Instead I looked into his eyes and saw confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“I just got four Comms in the last few minutes,” X said, cautious. “The Forgotten Ferns are all back, and the crop has been replanted and duplicated. The market is now overflowing with beautifully ripe tomatoes—ten times more than whatever was stolen. Other things, too. Little things. I can’t even comprehend why someone would go through the trouble.”
I bit back my comments, and not by choice. The pull to tell Ranger X about the Master of Mischief was strong, so strong it burned at my throat. Yet somehow, the words wouldn’t form. I couldn’t sp
eak of the subject around him.
I understood somehow that Ranger X was not the one who would travel with me on the journey. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, I knew this to be true, which meant the spell binding Olympia in secrecy wouldn’t allow me to say the name in front of Ranger X. Only one person in the world had those permissions, and he’d just left.
But if not X, then who would be my companion?
Almost in answer to my curiosity, the front door to the bungalow opened. The noise startled Ranger X and I into action. I threw on some jeans and a shirt before heading downstairs and following X into the storeroom.
“Lily,” Zin said, shifting her weight uneasily at the sight of Ranger X. “I need to talk to you. Any chance I could have a minute?”
“I have to get going.” Ranger X pulled me into an embrace, kissed my forehead and held me tight. “Get some rest, okay?”
I nodded, still mute. “I love you.” Then I kissed him on the mouth and lingered, wondering if he’d be able to follow me into the unknown whenever I was called to leave.
X left without a backward glance, and Zin’s sharp eyes took in the bedraggled sight of me.
“I need you to do something for me,” she said, her voice sharp and straight to business as her black hair swung in a line under her chin. “You’re going somewhere,” she said, eyeing my clothes, the bookbag I’d grabbed from upstairs, and my travel belt. “Where are you going?”
I hesitated, feeling the burn in my throat, knowing I couldn’t speak it aloud. Apparently, Zin wouldn’t be the one traveling with me, either.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said, a rush of relief sounding in her voice. “It’s better if you don’t tell me, actually.”
“What is this about?”
“Take Poppy with you.”
Aha, I thought. My fellow traveler. The mention of Poppy’s name brought a soothing cool to my throat, and I had no doubt I’d be able to say the name Olympia to her.
