Potion of the Turtle Master

by Maggie Marks

  Luna nodded. “Exactly.”

  Asher wiped his pickaxe on his shirt until it shone. “I’m ready to mine,” he said.

  Mason blew out a breath of relief. Finally, Asher was thinking about something other than fighting—another way to help the turtles. Mason studied the dark water below, hoping Ms. Beacon would return so they could get started. Before something else happened.

  When she did, she had good news. “I’ve found a crevice in the wall,” she said, pointing down. “We can widen it with an axe and lead the turtles through.”

  Asher raised his axe in the air. “I’ll help!” he said.

  Ms. Beacon smiled. “Good,” she said. “Let’s get started.” She dove gracefully back underwater.

  Asher started to slide off the ledge, too, until Mason reminded him to drink more potions—and to watch his back for hostile mobs. As his brother dove back into the cool water, Mason met Luna’s eyes. “Will we have enough?” he asked, gesturing toward the bottles she was placing back into her pack.

  She chewed her lip and slowly shook her head. “Only if nothing goes wrong,” she said. “We need to mine through this wall quickly and set the turtles free. Then we need to go home and start brewing again.” She stared at the last bottle in her hand—a nearly empty bottle of potion of healing. “Nothing can go wrong,” she repeated, as if to herself.

  Before Mason could start worrying, he slid off the ledge to go in search of Asher. There was only one axe, so he couldn’t help mine. But he could stand guard to help make sure that everything went right.

  He found Asher and Ms. Beacon working in a shallow crevice. Ms. Beacon held the axe and was mining quickly. Mason marveled again at how strong she was, even though she didn’t look it. But when Asher nudged Ms. Beacon’s shoulder and offered to take a turn, she let him.

  As Asher mined blocks, Ms. Beacon and Mason carried them out of the tunnel and let them fall to the floor of the cave, avoiding the swimming turtles. Soon the tunnel they created sloped upward, allowing for a small pocket of air just below the roofline. Mason made sure Asher surfaced often enough to breathe in the cool, moist air. Ms. Beacon didn’t seem to need it. She was mining again now, faster and faster.

  As Mason carried a particularly heavy block out of the tunnel, a large turtle swam in.

  No, buddy, Mason wanted to say. Not yet. Wait till we’re all done.

  But as the water between them grew still, Mason saw spikes instead of a turtle shell. And an enormous eye where the turtle head should be. This was no turtle. This was a guardian!

  Mason froze.

  As the guardian’s eye rolled left and right, searching, Mason hovered behind the sandstone block in his hands. It doesn’t see me yet, he realized. If I don’t move, it’ll go away.

  Then another thought rolled along behind that one. Any moment now, Asher is going to carry out a block of his own!

  Mason knew how to stay perfectly still, but would Asher? He fought the urge to glance over his shoulder—to swim back and warn his brother. Any movement would give their location away, and the guardian would strike.

  Finally, finally, the beast drifted on.

  Mason instantly dropped the block and grabbed his trident. He turned, eager to warn Asher and Ms. Beacon. But something else caught his eye—another shape at the end of the tunnel. The guardian was back!

  This time, Mason kicked into action. He wound up his arm, ready to launch his trident. As the guardian swam into the tunnel, Mason let the weapon slide though his fingers.

  Then he saw the dark ponytail. And four limbs instead of fins.

  He wasn’t about to attack a guardian.

  He was about to attack Luna!

  CHAPTER 14

  At the last second, Mason gripped his trident—catching it instead of releasing it. His heart pounded in his ears. In a moment of panic, he had nearly attacked his friend.

  As the realization washed over him, Mason flattened himself against the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. Luna swam closer, fear etched across her own face. But instead of stopping and scolding him, she swam right by toward Asher and Ms. Beacon. Then she waved them toward the water’s surface.

  Together, huddled beneath the roof of the cramped tunnel, Luna told them what she had seen. “Guardians!” she said. “Three or four of them. They’re in the cave. We have to tunnel our way out—right now.”

  Asher gripped his pickaxe. “What if the guardians hurt the turtles?”

  Luna shook her head. “They won’t,” she said. “But we might, if we start to fight. The lasers the guardians fire at us might hit the turtles instead. And it’s so dark and cramped in here, we might end up hurting each other, too.”

  When she gave Mason a pointed look, he winced. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was moving too fast.”

  Asher’s eyes widened. “What happened?” he asked.

  Mason gave a sheepish laugh. “You’re not the only one who needs to slow down and think, Asher,” he said. “We all need to work on that.” Suddenly, he was struck with a thought. “We all need to slow down,” he repeated. “We need the potion of the turtle master. It’ll protect us!”

  Luna nodded, but a shadow hung over her face. “We don’t have enough for the four of us.”

  Ms. Beacon had been studying the wall of the cave, as if mining through it in her mind. She turned. “You three take the potion,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Somehow, Mason believed she would.

  Luna pulled the bottle from her pack. “I think there’s only enough for two,” she said. She pushed the bottle toward Mason. “You and Asher,” she said.

  “No way!” Asher said, swimming backward. “It’ll slow down our mining. That’s the one thing we have to do fast—get out of this cave. You said so yourself!”

  Luna hesitated. “You might be right.”

  “No,” said Mason, reaching for Asher’s axe. “I’ll do the mining. You drink the potion and stay safe.”

  But Asher wouldn’t give over the axe. He hung on tight, locking eyes with Mason. “It’s my axe,” he said.

  Finally, Mason let go. There was no winning against Asher when he got like this. He was as tough as obsidian, just like Uncle Bart. “Fine,” Mason said. “But I’m standing guard at the end of the tunnel. I won’t let the guardians near you,” he promised.

  “Me, neither,” Luna said. She took a small swig of the potion and offered it to Mason.

  He sipped carefully, wondering how the purple potion would taste. Like fish, he decided as he recorked the bottle. But his fingers fumbled. As he passed the bottle back to Luna, he felt as if he were moving through mud or clay. “What’s happening?” he asked.

  Luna answered slowly, drawing out her words. “The potion is working,” she said. “It’s slowing us down, but don’t worry. You’re stronger now. You have an invisible shield—like a turtle shell, remember?”

  Mason nodded ever so slowly. He drifted back underwater and inched his way toward the opening of the tunnel.

  Turtles swam past, barely noticing him. Luna was beside him now, too, her limbs floating lazily in the water. She looks like a squid, he thought. And I feel like one.

  As a guardian drifted into view, Mason held his breath and stayed perfectly still, allowing his body to float downward to the base of the tunnel. Staying still was easier now, with the potion of the turtle master. But Mason’s mind still raced with worry.

  As the guardian passed by, Mason slowly turned his head. Behind him, Asher mined quickly, sending block after block tumbling to the tunnel floor.

  Will it be quick enough? Mason wondered. Will we get out before the guardians discover us—or the potion wears off?

  He was answered by a brilliant light flooding the tunnel. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, barely making out the silhouette of his brother, pumping his fist with joy.

  Asher had tunneled out. They’d made it!

  Mason pivoted and began to swim toward his brother, wishing the potion was gone now so
he could move more quickly. But Luna tugged on his shirt, pulling him back. She shook her head and pointed.

  Mason looked, expecting to see a guardian. But he saw nothing but turtles.

  The turtles. Luna wouldn’t leave without them!

  Ms. Beacon wouldn’t either. The old woman pushed past Mason, back toward the sea cave. As she pulled a handful of sea grass from her robes, his spirits lifted. Ms. Beacon knew how to lure the turtles. She’d done it before.

  The first turtle swam around the sea grass, giving Ms. Beacon a wide berth. But the second one dove low, nibbled the grass, and followed Ms. Beacon as she pulled the grass slowly back into the tunnel.

  She swam backward, leading the turtle toward the lit opening, where Asher waited. But halfway down the tunnel, the turtle shifted course, as if frightened by Asher. Or frightened by all of us, Mason thought. We need to get out of the way!

  He inched backward into the pool of swimming turtles, wanting to clear the tunnel for them. But as he plunged into deeper water, he felt a commotion behind him. He turned . . .

  . . . and came face to face with a guardian.

  Its bulbous eye locked on Mason. It thrashed its tail in the water. And then it charged.

  Mason tried to duck, but his limbs wouldn’t move! All he could do was close his eyes and brace for the guardian’s attack. Please let the potion work, he prayed, imagining an imaginary shield protecting him from the blast.

  He saw a flash of yellow light and then felt the blast knocking him backward against the rock wall. He felt no pain, but for a long terrifying moment, he couldn’t move. As Mason clung to the wall, he saw the mob swim away.

  It’ll be back, Mason knew. He wiggled his fingers and toes, relieved he could still feel them. Then he began to inch his way back toward the tunnel.

  The guardian beat him to it. This time, the beast locked its eye on Luna, who turned her head slowly to meet Mason’s gaze.

  Another flash of light blinded Mason. He squeezed his eyes shut, but not before seeing the laser strike. Had it hit Luna? She would be protected by potion of the turtle master. But what if it went straight down the tunnel? Toward Asher?

  Panic flooded Mason’s chest. He tried to fight his way into the tunnel, but turtles had begun to swim inside. They had found their exit and were swimming to freedom.

  Let me in! Mason wanted to cry. Four turtles hurried by, maybe five. Then Luna swam into view, moving more quickly now.

  Is the potion wearing off? he wondered. Yes! He felt a jolt of energy shoot through his limbs. Then he began to swim, quickly reaching Luna.

  He could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Ms. Beacon hovered just beyond it. He could see her rippling robes. But where was Asher?

  As Mason broke free from the cave, bursting out into open water, he couldn’t find his brother. He looked up, hoping to see Asher swimming toward the surface. Then he looked down, his stomach gripping with fear.

  But Asher was gone.

  CHAPTER 15

  Mason swam in a circle, trying not to panic. Had his brother been struck by the guardian’s laser? Had he been hurt or . . . worse?

  Mason swam toward Ms. Beacon, hoping for answers. But she was following the turtles now, as if she hadn’t even noticed Asher was gone.

  Stop! Mason wanted to shout. What’s the matter with you? My brother is more important than those turtles!

  As Luna began to swim after Ms. Beacon, Mason had no choice but to follow. But he didn’t fall in line. Instead, he shot past the old woman, determined to get her attention.

  Ms. Beacon finally faced him, a smile in her eyes. She pointed straight ahead down the line of turtles. The turtle in the lead seemed to be following something. But what?

  Mason swam closer until he could see. A clump of sea grass darted through the water, as if pulled along by an invisible fishing rod.

  As he watched the sea grass in wonder, a boy’s hand appeared. Then an arm. Then a green T-shirt.

  Asher!

  Questions darted through Mason’s mind, quickly followed by an answer. Asher had used the potion of invisibility—again. But this time, Mason wasn’t angry. He’d never been so happy to see his little brother.

  As Asher’s smiling face appeared, Mason grinned back. They swam together, leading the turtles toward the island—the island where not long ago, those turtles themselves had hatched.

  We’re leading them home! Mason thought. And this time, he knew they were going to make it. Finally.

  * * *

  “When will they hatch?” Asher asked. He lay on his belly in the sand, staring at the pile of precious turtle eggs. Some of the cream-colored shells were larger than the others, but all were speckled with greenish blue flecks.

  And all of them hold baby turtles, Mason thought with a smile.

  “They could take a week or more to hatch,” said Luna as she played with a blade of sea grass. “Right, Ms. Beacon?”

  The old woman, who was staring out at the rising sun, nodded.

  “A week?” Mason hoped he had heard her wrong. “We can’t stay here that long. Who’s going to protect the eggs from the drowned—and other mobs?”

  The sea turtles had gone back out to open water, leaving their eggs behind. But those eggs looked so fragile, so vulnerable. Mason scooted closer in the sand.

  “Maybe we could use a potion on them,” Asher said thoughtfully.

  “You mean like potion of invisibility?” Luna cast him a sideways glance.

  Asher’s cheeks flushed. “No, I used all that up,” he admitted. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have taken it without asking.”

  Luna nodded. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

  Mason nudged his brother. “You scared me to death back there in the cave,” he said. “I thought that you’d fought the guardians—and lost.”

  “No!” Asher said. “I wasn’t fighting. I was trying to save the turtles. I figured if they couldn’t see me, they wouldn’t be scared, and they would follow me out of the tunnel.”

  Ms. Beacon reached out and laid a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. “You saved them,” she said. “Your older brother taught you well.” She shifted her gaze toward Mason and gave him a little nod.

  “Me?” Mason shook his head. “No, I didn’t have anything to do with . . .”

  She raised her hand. “You did,” she said. “You taught your brother that there’s a time to fight, and a time to turn the other way. You led him, just as he led the turtles.”

  As the sun cast its first few rays over the beach, Mason felt his own cheeks flush with warmth and pride. But as he turned back toward the eggs, he wondered again, How will we protect the baby turtles?

  He gazed along the shore, toward the shipwreck he and Asher had once called home. The planks of the hull were weathered and cracked, and the mast bowed downward, nearly touching the ship’s rail. As he stared at the ship, a plan formed in Mason’s mind.

  “I have an idea,” he said to Asher. “C’mon!”

  * * *

  “Is it almost time?” Asher asked again.

  Luna sighed. “I told you,” she said. “The eggs will hatch any day now. But you can’t rush it.”

  They sat on the beach beside a square pen that Mason and Asher had built with planks from Uncle Bart’s ship. Nestled safely inside were the precious turtle eggs.

  It had been seven or eight days now—enough time to go home and unpack potion ingredients. Ms. Beacon was busy brewing new potions in her cave. But Mason, Luna, and Asher had come back to watch the baby turtles hatch and lead them safely to water.

  “Waiting is hard,” Asher said, pushing himself up to his feet. “I’m going to explore Uncle Bart’s ship again.”

  “I’ll come too,” Mason said, leaping up. “Luna, you’ll keep watch, right?”

  She nodded, resting her chin on her knees. As the sun set low in the sky, she gazed out over the open water, as if daring the drowned to rise and try to harm those turtle eggs.

  The eggs are safe, Mason though
t as he followed his brother through the hole in the hull of the ship.

  As he poked through the wreckage of boards and mob drops, he remembered a time when he and Asher hadn’t been so safe. In the days after the shipwreck, they’d had to sleep in this cracked hull. Hostile mobs had crept out of the water onto the beach. Phantoms had swooped overhead.

  Mason shivered, shaking off the memory. “Wait up!” he called to Asher, who had already disappeared down the hall toward the bow of the ship. That was where Uncle Bart had kept his supply chest, which had long since been depleted. But there were other chests hidden throughout the ship, too.

  Mason found Asher standing in a tiny room lined with fishing gear. Some of the rods had fallen into the cobweb-lined corners of the room. As Mason reached for one, his hand brushed against a sticky web. He pulled back, remembering the spider that had almost taken Asher’s life.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said, checking the ceiling for any furry, red-eyed mobs.

  Asher shook his head. “Don’t you see those?” He pointed.

  “What?” Mason glanced again at the rods on the wall. In the midst of the collection hung a bound bunch of arrows—long, straight, and very sharp.

  “There must be a bow around here somewhere,” Asher said, scanning the walls.

  Mason spotted a weathered chest in a corner and carefully made his way toward it. As he opened the trunk, he found bedding: a red wool blanket that smelled of must. As he pushed it aside, he sucked in his breath.

  Beneath the red wool blanket lay another one dyed golden yellow—sunflower yellow. “Asher!” Mason cried as he pulled the blanket from the chest.

  “I know!” Asher said. “I found it!” But he wasn’t looking at the blanket. He was sliding an old wooden bow out from behind a stack of warped planks.

  Forgetting the blanket for just a moment, Mason reached for the arrows that hung on the wall. He handed one to Asher, hoping the string on the old bow was strong enough to hold the arrow.

  Sure enough, Asher was able to load the arrow and pull back on the string. As he scanned the room, searching for a target, Mason jumped sideways. “Don’t point that at me!” he cried. “Let’s go outside and try it.”