“It’s like an auto-detonate function,” I said as Gus nodded. “Why so secretive?”
Gus bit his bottom lip. “The name of this potion is murmured only in dark and hopeless places. Those who seek it have a strong, desperate desire to use it. A desperate and hopeless man is a dangerous one.”
I wanted to ask more, but I felt like I was using up all of my questions. Thankfully, Gus must have read my mind because he explained further.
“Imagine the things one may do if they obtain The Elixir,” Gus said. “It gives someone life for hours, sometimes even days after they die.”
“Like a ghost?”
Gus tilted his head sideways. “Of sorts. More like an apparition with certain...powers. If the person has dangerous intentions, imagine how much damage they could do with The Elixir. After all, they are already dead. There are virtually no consequences for them.”
“They could...they could hurt people,” I said. “And never be punished for it.”
He nodded. “That exact situation happened only once before the regulations came into play; the repercussions were devastating.”
“I don’t feel comfortable with this,” I said, turning around. “I’m just going to tell our guest that we don’t serve the potion. I want no part of this.”
Gus held up a hand. “I’m afraid you can’t do that.”
“Why not? I’ve never made the potion before, so I’ll use that as an excuse. I’m inexperienced.”
“If a person requests The Elixir from the rightful Mixologist, the Mixologist is required to accommodate them. That is also part of the regulations,” Gus said with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Lily. You need to give your guest the Truth Seeker and go through due process. Those are the rules.”
“Shouldn’t I be allowed to choose if I want to brew a certain potion?” My heart beat quickly at the thought of mixing up something so potentially devastating. “I don’t feel right about any of it—the whole concept—none of it. Wouldn’t it be better to just avoid the whole thing?”
Gus stood up slowly. For the first time, he seemed to feel each one of his eighty-something years of age. A pained expression crossed his face as he gripped my shoulder with one hand. “The job of the Mixologist is not to ‘play God,’ for lack of a better saying. Your role is not to be the judge and jury; it is to offer help to those who need it.”
“But you just explained how dangerous this potion can be if used wrong.”
“How do you know he’s intending to use it wrongly?”
I hesitated. “Maybe I’m being short-sighted, but I don’t see any particularly great way to use it right. What could a person need to do so badly after they are dead that they’re willing to die faster? The thought gives me a bad feeling.”
Gus took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “My grandmother took The Elixir.”
My eyes widened. “She did?”
He nodded. “My mother was due to give birth to me just as my grandmother was being wheeled into the hospital. She was about to die from a terrible illness, just as I was about to be born. She’d been suffering for over three years, and the end of her life came as mine began. On the mainland, I believe humans call that disease Alzheimer’s.”
I raised my hand to Gus’s, which was still on my shoulder, and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry.”
“She knew the end was coming, it was just a matter of time.” Gus removed his hand from my shoulder and crossed his arms. He rocked back on his heels and stared at the ground, looking nostalgic for the first time since we’d met. “They say people can sense when the end is near.”
“I’ve heard that too,” I whispered.
“She knew her life was finished that day, but she wasn’t ready to let go.” Gus exhaled a long breath. “At that time, the Mixologist was the predecessor to your grandfather. She summoned him and requested The Elixir. As per the rules, he gave her the Truth Serum first. With flying colors, she passed the test and asked again for the final potion. He made it, and he gave it to her.”
Gus’s eyes watered. I swallowed, unsure what words might ease his pain. For fear of saying the wrong thing, I remained silent.
“She passed away an hour before I was born, my mother tells me.”
I gasped. “The Elixir preserved her...”
Gus bowed his head. “It kept her spirit alive long enough to meet her first grandson.”
I waited a beat. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I’d never...I’d never thought of it like that before.”