The Potion Diaries (16 page)

‘Grandad!’ scolds Mum. ‘Not while we’re eating!’

‘What did he want?’ There is a reserved edge to my dad’s voice too, although I am more intrigued by Grandad’s outburst.

‘I guess to see how I was doing after dropping out of the Hunt,’ I say with a shrug. ‘We knew each other at school a bit.’

‘Oh, I have
got
to tell Sarah after this,’ says Molly, already taking her phone out and opening up TalentChat. ‘She was really hoping to see him at the concert.’

‘No phones at the table,’ says Mum to Molly, who puts it away with a slight pout. Then Mum raises her eyebrow at me. ‘That’s . . . nice that he came by. You never mentioned him before. I suppose ZoroAster are the main front-runners in the Hunt now.’

‘Zol and his band of minions couldn’t mix a real love potion if the recipe came and danced in front of their faces,’ says Grandad.

‘We could though, couldn’t we, Grandad?’ I ask, not yet ready to make eye contact.

‘Well of course we could.’

Mum tuts and says, ‘Enough with the Hunt now, okay?’ If she could reach to kick Grandad under the table, she would. And if I didn’t have a feeling about what was coming, this conversation would have sent me over the edge. But I do, and so I’m able to be strong. She puts her hand over mine and squeezes it. ‘You tried with the first ingredient, Sam, but now you have to concentrate on the store again. You were getting so far with your inventory, weren’t you?’

I smile at her, endlessly grateful that she’s so protective of my sanity. But then I move my hand away and keep my gaze focused across the table. ‘We
thought
we didn’t have the first ingredient, but we had it all along, didn’t we, Grandad?’

Mum says my name in that loud
what on earth are you doing, Sam?
tone and Dad slams his hands on the table so loudly the cutlery jumps. ‘Your mother said, enough!’

Amidst the commotion, I almost miss Grandad’s answer. ‘Yes of course, it’s under the sink in the lab.’

I can’t look at Mum or Dad – even though both of them are quiet now, Grandad’s words registering – as I’m paralysed to my chair by my grandad’s stare. His brow is furrowed, his lips pursed tightly together as if he’s attempting to reassert control over his own mouth. He’s looking at me with an intensity I can’t bear, but I also cannot turn away or avert my gaze. He looks so angry. But there’s something else. Something that gives me hope he’s not going to murder me. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

‘Molly,’ he says, not even breaking his stare for a moment. ‘Fetch me a glass of water.’ Molly jumps up from the table so quickly her chair almost falls backwards onto the linoleum floor behind her, and rushes to the sink. ‘No, not from the tap, from the jug in my study.’ She goes immediately.

We wait until she returns. My parents are dumbfounded by my grandad’s revelation and also not yet sure about my involvement.

‘Dad,’ says my dad. ‘You knew the whole time—’

Grandad holds up a hand to stop him, and waits for the glass of water from Molly. He drains it, wipes his mouth and takes a deep breath.

‘I thought I was immune to truth serums, Samantha.’

Mum gasps and the blood drains from my face.

‘But somehow, you have created a mix that I am not immune to.’ To my surprise, he takes another sip of his juice and washes it around in his mouth. ‘Hmm . . . what is it? You adjusted the base formula – fortified it.’

I can only nod, still cautious.

‘And of course, the essence of wisteria wasn’t meant for a young child at all, but an old man. It’s . . . inspired. I knew you were good at mixing but I didn’t realise you were
this
good. You will be a great master of alchemy one day.’

I blush a deep red, but I can’t allow myself to forget what this trouble has been for. ‘Then will you help me with the Hunt? We can’t let the synths win.’

‘I let the synths win a long time ago, Sam.’ He looks sad, tired. ‘But you are the alchemist who is bound to complete the Wilde Hunt. I won’t stand in your way.’

That’s about as much as I can hope for. I jump up, run around the table and kiss him on the top of his head, his fine white hair tickling my nose.

‘But we’re out, Sam,’ says Dad, scratching his chin. ‘It’s already been announced.’

‘Plus, it’s so dangerous,’ adds Mum. ‘We’ve already been robbed, for Talent’s sake. ZA sabotaged you at the Rising . . . who knows what they’ll do if you ever get close?’

‘If everyone thinks we’re out, that could be our advantage,’ I muse. ‘I can do this, Mum. I’ll be careful.’

‘Sam?’

I turn around and Molly is behind me. In her hand is a ceramic piggy bank, which she holds out for me. ‘It’s not a lot, but it might help a bit.’

‘Mols, you don’t have to do that!’

‘But I want to. I know you can beat anyone else in the Hunt.’ She puts the piggy bank on the table and gives me a hug.

‘Molly’s right,’ says Dad. ‘We’ll help in whatever way we can. This is your dream, and we’ll support it.’

My eyes well up with tears. My mum pats my hand. ‘Eat, first. Finish your dinner. Then you can start making the world’s most sought after potion, okay, honey?’

I grin; my parents’ excitement is almost matching my own.

‘But, Sam – if you ever potion your grandfather again, you will be grounded for life, got it?’

I’m not going to argue with that.

I devour the rest of my dinner and then head for my grandad’s lab. Right under the sink, as Grandad had revealed, is the jar of powdered merpearl. It still possesses a slight glow of luminescence, a pink-white sheen. I tilt the jar round in a circle, and instead of behaving as normal powder does, it shifts more like a liquid. In fact, instead of tumbling in individual grains, it reminds me more of tiny waves crashing against the glass.

‘It’s beautiful.’ My dad’s voice catches me by surprise.

I give the jar another whirl and watch it again. ‘This isn’t powder from an ordinary mermaid pearl, is it? It belonged to Aphroditas. When we were on the boat, I was watching her. These were her colours.’ I peer closely at the label.
Collected on full moon night, 1942.
‘And it’s as powerful as it can be; even though it isn’t fresh, it will be strong.’

‘There was a time when Kemi’s Potion Shop only had the finest ingredients,’ he says.

‘I wish I lived in that time,’ I say, unable to tear my eyes from the merpearl.

‘Maybe you will again. You know, your grandfather means well. He saw the rise of the synths first hand, watched Zoro cheat your great-grandmother out of her win. Back then Zoro was trying to establish synth legitimacy. Now Zol is trying to protect it. And with Emilia coming out of the woodwork . . . it’s so dangerous, Sam. I wish I could come with you. To protect you.’ He smiles sadly. ‘But you’re the Participant, so I can’t come even if I wanted to.’

The same fears plague my brain. But if I let my fears act as my roots, I’ll wither on the vine. ‘I’ll have Kirsty with me. And I’ll call Anita and Arjun – let them know I’m back in. Maybe if we can work together, we can make sure one of us comes up with the potion first.’

He nods. ‘So what now? Have you thought about what ingredient might come next?’

I chew my bottom lip. ‘I’ve thought of something. But it’s just a hunch. And if I’m right . . . I think I’m going to need a plane ticket.’

CHAPTER TWENTY

Samantha

‘
Y
OU’RE BACK IN!’ SCREECHES ANITA down the line.

‘Yes! Grandad had some pearl powder stashed in his lab. Can you believe it?’ The line is crackled and full of static, so I miss her next sentence. ‘’Nita, I can barely hear you . . . did you get my email?’

‘Sorry, hun . . . distance call is expensive . . . got your mail . . . keep your pearl powder safe! Rumours are that someone had theirs stolen last night. Better to work together than let the Zs win! See you here soon.’

‘Wait! Where should I meet you?’ I ask, but she’s already off the line.

The phone buzzes again. ‘Anita?’

But it’s not. ‘Sam, it’s Kirsty. I’m coming to pick you up now. Your dad wired me the money to book the flights; I’ve got you some clothes, just grab your toothbrush and let’s go.’

‘Okay but—’ She hangs up before I can get the sentence out. What is it with people cutting me off?

I sit down on my bed, gripping the corner of my duvet. I’m about to travel halfway across the world from Nova to Bharat, a country with one of the biggest untouched areas of Wilds. The terrain in Bharat ranges from desert to rainforest to mountains to some of the world’s most densely populated cities. The capital city, Loga, has over ten times as many people in it as Kingstown.

Not only have I never even used my passport before, but the first time is going to be to the country that’s going to give me the biggest culture shock I could possibly experience. This is jumping into the deep end of adventure, with both feet and no lifejacket.

It’s all to find
real
eluvian ivy. Ever since I saw it mentioned in that old book, and then Zain’s reaction when I asked for eluvian powder in the lab, it’s been my hunch that it’s one of the ingredients. Typical that this time I
know
it’s something we don’t have – it’s rare, and combined with the fact it’s extremely volatile and needs to be kept in special wooden canisters, we don’t bother stocking it. And it’s dangerous for the Finders too. Its habitat is the deepest, darkest rainforests of the Bharatan peninsula.

I judge I have at least ten minutes before Kirsty rocks up, even if she jumps every red light and hops every kerb. I dash around the house like a mad woman, but before shutting down my laptop, I log onto Connect – the most popular social network in Nova. I find a surprising number of people that I’ve barely even spoken to trying to add me as a friend – and twice as many again who are complete strangers. I’ve never been a huge fan of Connect, if only because it seems like just another place for Talenteds to congregate and exclude me online. So my profile is set firmly to ‘private’ and contains as little information about me as I can get away with.

I scroll quickly through the new requests, deleting and denying as I go, but one name causes my finger to catch on the delete button. Zain Aster. Again.

I hesitate for a moment, then before I can talk myself out of it I hit ‘Connect’. Immediately his profile unfolds on the screen before me. Strings of photos, the most recent ones catching my eye as they were obviously taken at the Rising. Zain is standing next to his father on the yacht, Zol holding out the pearl in front of him in his palm.

Dad calls from the hall, ‘Kirsty will be here any second. Ready?’

Then I catch the status update. Zain’s latest one.

Zain Aster
is about to jump to Bharat. Madness.
@TheKTTransportLounge

My stomach flips at the thought, even though that’s as good as confirmation that my hunch is right. It’s a big country, I tell myself. The odds of running into Zain in the rainforest have got to be slim.

An hour later, and I’m sitting inside the terminal at Kingstown International Airport, waiting for Kirsty to buy magazines and snacks for the journey. Unlike Zain and his dad, there’s no way we’d go to the KT Transport Terminal – it’s just too expensive.

I open my diary, smoothing the pages on my lap. I thumb through the recipes, my neat scrawl covering the pages. I turn to a fresh page. Then I write at the very top:

Love Potion

*Full moon oyster merpearl. Crushed. 30g.

*Eluvian ivy

I hear the telltale snap of a camera going off behind me and I slam the journal shut. I spin around and a young girl, not much older than Molly, is pointing her phone at me.

‘Hey, what are you doing?’ I ask.

‘You’re that girl off the TV, right?’ she says. ‘My friends aren’t going to believe this. You were in the Hunt. Can I get your autograph?’

I hesitate for a moment. ‘Sure, if you show me the picture first?’

She shrugs and hands me her phone. I zoom in but breathe out a sigh of relief when I see you can’t read the ingredients.

‘Wait, can we take a selfie instead?’ she asks.

‘Um, I’m not—’

Before I’ve even finished speaking, she takes the picture. If this is going to be standard practice, I really need to work on my posing. The girl says a quick thank you and rushes off to join her parents.