The Potion Diaries (3 page)

Anita touches my arm; she’s followed me down from the shelves. ‘If we don’t get a move on, we’re going to be late.’

‘Oh, sweetie, yes – you don’t want to miss the start!’ Mum is not-so-secretly in love with the Royal family and piles of glossy magazines are stuffed onto a ledge beneath the shop till. She keeps them out of sight out from my grandad, who burns them in the lab’s oven if he finds them. ‘You can tell me all about it when you get back.’

‘You know I’m not good with who’s-wearing-what-designer and who’s-arrived-with-whom and all that stuff.’

‘Take lots of pictures then,’ she says, with a smile. ‘Molly will want to see them.’

‘Molly will have a much better view than me,’ I say. Molly is my sister, and although she’s only twelve, she’s our family’s hope. She is Talented, having inherited it against the odds from Mum’s side of the family. When her Talent was first detected, I asked her what it felt like. In her cute, eight-year-old way she said it was like swimming in a stream of magic. Now that she’s twelve, she’ll soon be able to channel that magic through an object, like turning on a tap.

It’s why my parents have been so happy lately. Molly’s Talent test results came back sky-high. She’s going to be strong. She can have a real future, one that’s not dependent on a store that’s going out of business. But to ensure that future, she needs to go to a special Talented school, and that costs money. Lots of money that we don’t have, and won’t have if Mum keeps giving away all our potions for free. Every spare penny goes towards Molly’s education, making sure she has every opportunity. I could resent her for it, but I don’t. She’s a much better investment than me.

She is up at the castle already, on a day out with her Talented friends.

‘Try to make sure Sam has a good time, won’t you, Anita?’ Mum shakes her head at me, her hands on her hips.

‘I’ll do my best, Mrs Kemi.’

Before Mum can delay us any more, I step out onto the street. The old wooden sign bearing the faded Kemi crest creaks above my head, and I skip out of its way on autopilot, convinced that one day soon it’s going to come crashing down.

Anita links her arm in mine, and we follow Kemi Street out of the Alchemist district. Kingstown is built on the remains of an extinct volcano, an imposing castle perched at the very top. Many of the oldest and most beautiful buildings in Kingstown stretch down the hill from the castle, along a wide high street known as the Royal Lane. The rest of the city spreads out around the hill, a sea of modernity around the island of old buildings.

The Royal Lane is already packed with people on their way up to watch the party. The normally bustling stores that line the street have closed early for the night, but large screens play a constant stream of advertising for everything from the newest fashion, to the finest wands, to the most advanced synths.

‘Samantha Kemi,’ a voice says, deep and strangely familiar.

I spin around abruptly, bumping into a couple who had been walking hot on my heels. It clearly wasn’t them calling me, and I mutter an apology. As they scurry away, I notice that the woman’s dress morphs from rose pink to crimson and back again. Glamoured. I feel a stab of jealousy. I’ll never be able to afford any glamoured clothing. I catch Anita’s eye and we both roll our eyes as if on cue. ‘Talenteds,’ she mutters.

‘Did you hear someone call my name?’ I ask Anita.

She shakes her head, and when I don’t hear it again, we keep walking.

We pass by a bus shelter, where an animated screen flashes an image of Princess Evelyn swirling in a glittering blue evening gown.
TONIGHT: PRINCESS EVELYN TURNS EIGHTEEN! Tune into ATC from 7 p.m
. Everyone who’s not up at the castle with us will be glued to the cast, including my mum.

The crowds thicken, even though the party isn’t due to start for another hour, and we’re forced to stop by a small army of police on horseback.

‘We should’ve left earlier,’ Anita says, craning her neck to try to see over the sea of people. ‘I heard most of our class got invites to the actual party in the Palace.’

‘At the castle, you mean.’

‘No, I mean at the Palace. Up there, somewhere,’ she waves her hand vaguely above our heads. The castle in Kingstown is the Royal family’s official residence. But their real home is Palace Great, a glamoured castle, rumoured to be hidden in the skies above Kingstown, although even on a cloudless day there’s nothing to be seen.

‘Only the
Talented
people in our class, then.’

‘Okay, I’ll give you that.’

There’s a great sound like a thousand trumpets blaring. I stop in my tracks and cover my ears with my hands. Has the concert started already?

‘Are you okay?’ Anita asks. She grabs one of my hands and I think she’s afraid I’m going to run away back home and break my part of the bargain.

‘Did you not hear that?’ My ears are still ringing from the noise.

‘Hear what?’

‘Samantha Kemi,’ says the deep voice again.

‘What? Who keeps saying my name?’ I spin around, frustrated, as if someone is pulling my ponytail and then running away.

Anita frowns. ‘I didn’t hear anything, Sam.’

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spy the bus stop ad. The Princess in her beautiful glittering dress is gone. In her place is the King of Nova.

And he’s looking right at me.

CHAPTER FIVE

Samantha

T
HE KING SPEAKS. ‘SAMANTHA KEMI, AS the apprentice of registered alchemist Ostanes Kemi, you are Summoned to Palace Great immediately.’

I blink, because anything requiring more rational thought is impossible right now. The King of Nova – a person I’ve only ever seen on television casts, in newspapers, and once very far away up on the balcony of the castle – is Summoning me to the Palace.

Can
he even Summon me to the Palace? This has to be some kind of trick because there’s no way that the Royal family want anything to do with some lowly apprentice alchemist . . . unless I did something wrong? But then it would be the police at my door, not the Royal family. We have a government, politicians and laws like everywhere else. The Royals are figureheads, not dictators.

They can’t use their magic to stop someone in the street and Summon them to the Palace.

This isn’t real. It’s a joke. ‘Anita, are you seeing this?’ I ask.

‘Sam, I have to go.’

I tear my eyes from the King’s face for a moment. Anita is staring wide-eyed at her phone. She looks scared. And if she can see the King’s eyes narrowing every second I leave him hanging, she isn’t showing any sign of it. It must be a private message just for me.

‘My dad’s been Summoned and Mum wants me to come home straight away,’ she says, holding out her phone for me to see the text.

‘You go,’ I say, and then I bite my bottom lip and swallow hard.

‘What’s happening?’ she whispers. I guess we’re both about to find out. She gives me a quick hug and then disappears into the crowd, heading in the direction of her home.

When I turn back to the screen, the King is gone – and for a brief moment I wonder if it’s all been a dream. Now there’s another man: one with a forked beard protruding from his chin.

‘Samantha Kemi, I am Renel Landry, advisor to the Royal family. Can you confirm that you have heard the Summons and are ready to travel to Palace Great immediately?’

I wonder what choice I have. What on earth can the Royal family want with me? ‘Y-yes,’ I stammer.

I can’t believe that no one has stopped to stare at this strange spectacle, but everyone flows past the bus shelter as if the entire structure doesn’t exist. The power of the Royals. The advisor shifts to one side, his hand beckoning me through the screen. ‘You have transported before, haven’t you?’ he asks.

Transported? The notion finally breaks my nerve and I almost laugh in the man’s face. But I compose myself, and shake my head. ‘No, sir.’ Then, my eyes finally focus and I see the opulent room behind him, one half of an immense gold chandelier behind his head, rich tapestries on the wall, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed by such an immense wave of curiosity that it converts into bravery. ‘But I’ve watched others do it and I’m confident I can do it too.’

He gives me a withering look and I know he doesn’t buy it for a second. ‘Such confidence is misplaced. The trip to Palace Great is long . . .’

Truth is, I’m not comfortable with the idea of transporting. I know a few of the basic rules: Hold tight. Keep your mouth closed. Never break eye contact. Any screen – or mirror – can be used to transport, although most Talented households have a designated screen known as a Summons. For long distances – or for travel overseas – most people use the Kingstown Transport Terminal.

But doing it myself, from a bus stop in the middle of the street, is another thing entirely.

I can hear the King barking out an order. ‘Bring her. We’re wasting time.’

A grimace crosses Renel’s face and he returns his gaze to me, eyes filled with determination. They don’t lose their sheen of contempt, though. I hate the way snobby Talenteds look down on people like me. ‘All right, Miss Kemi. You say you can do it and it is a matter of urgency that you reach the Palace as soon as possible.’ He holds his arms out and the barriers between us break down. His fingertips push through the glass of the screen, which ripples like a pond disturbed by a stone.

‘I’m coming,’ I say, with more determination than I feel. I reach out and grab his outstretched hands, stare into his eyes and allow myself to be pulled into the glass.

The ground slips away from my feet, the crowds of people falling away from me even though I feel as if I’m not moving at all. His Talent is so strong; he guides me easily along the streams of magic to the Palace. I’m pulled higher and higher, and in my peripheral vision I can see we’re following the line of the rooftops as they slope abruptly upwards. It’s the strangest feeling – not like flying since there’s no wind, no rush of air passing by, just Renel’s eyes locked on mine and the tug of his arms straining my shoulders.

It happens all too quickly. As we near the castle at the top of town, suddenly I’m being dragged directly upwards, into the darkening sky. My heart rushes into my throat and although I know I don’t have far to go, I feel an overwhelming urge to look down on the city. It’s madness, it could mean my death, but the temptation is too much. I look down.

Renel grimaces, sweat breaking out on his forehead. ‘Don’t break eye contact!’ he shouts, but a moment too late.

I’m freefalling. Whatever magic had suspended me is gone. The first thing that strikes me is the cold. Blood of dragons, it’s freezing! But then my stomach drops from my body and I scream as the wind roars in my ears.

Arms burst through the air, four strong hands gripping my shoulders. The wind and cold are shut out as abruptly as a slammed door and with one final grunt of effort I am pulled through a screen and onto a polished marble floor.

I land with a thump I know will raise a blue-and-yellow bruise on my hip by morning.

Salve of Agata’s hazel – to clear a bruise in less than twenty-four hours.

Renel waits for me as I scramble to my feet. A prickly wave of shame rises, the heat of it creeping up my neck to reach my cheeks. As if embarrassing myself in front of the King and his advisor could be any worse, the room is filled with people. I relax a little when I spot Mr Patel in the crowd. His is the only face displaying a modicum of concern. I shuffle away from the large screen on the wall that I came in through, trying to blend into the crowd.

The King paces, and the sight of him is unnerving. He cuts a domineering silhouette in full military dress, every button bright and polished, obviously ready for a TV appearance. This is not an occasion for the likes of me, in my ripped jeans and the band T-shirt I was wearing out to the concert. I hug my arms around myself, wishing that I could crawl under the lovely oriental carpet and hide. Or at least put on a smarter shirt.

‘Can we begin?’ the King says, looking up from his pacing at Renel.

‘We’re still waiting for one more.’

‘Well we can’t wait any longer. Get started.’ He waves a gloved hand impatiently.

Renel draws a deep breath. ‘Princess Evelyn has been poisoned.’