Witchy Sour(63)

I explained about Poppy’s dilemma and how the side effects of not having access to Vamp Vites was wreaking havoc on everyone around her. That soon, her supply would dwindle to nothing.

“You’re like him.”

“Who?”

“The last Mixologist,” she said. “He was a good man.”

“The fill-in? The guy who worked here for the last two years?”

Her eyebrows knitted in thought. “No, the one before. The real deal.”

“You knew my grandfather,” I said, sucking in a breath. “What was he like?”

“Kind. Respectful. If he wanted to rule The Forest, we would have let him. He didn’t want to, and that’s exactly why he would’ve been the best for the job,” she said, sighing with dismay. “We miss him, but we don’t have time to talk now. Darkness is on the horizon, and you don’t want to be caught out here at night.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, lady, but it would be pretty stupid of you to stay here.”

“Then how do we do this?”

After some careful consideration and a long period of deliberation, the fairy nodded and led me back toward the tree. Very carefully, she demonstrated how to harvest the Dust of the Devil. It was simple really, but it’d be impossible to guess the process without a teacher. After she’d shown me three times on three different blossoms, she nodded for me to try on my own.

With a gentle touch and the bending of leaves in a certain pattern, I was able to extract the dust from the very center of the flower without injuring myself on the first try. I took just a little from three or four different flowers—enough to last me a month, according to the fairy. If all went well, I could take a bit more next time.

“This is incredible.” Glancing down into my open palm, I let my eyes rest on the powder lying there. Red mixed with black in a shiny substance that looked like diamonds shattered to the consistency of fine sugar. My eyes locked hard and wouldn’t let go. “This is magic.”

“Put it in here.” Sharply, the fairy directed my attention to a small container that looked like it’d formerly been an acorn. “Don’t look at it for the entire walk back. When you do use it, use only the tiniest pinch at first. Close the container right away, or it’ll suck you in and drive you mad.”

I dusted the powder from my palm into the container and snapped it shut. “Thank you for your help, Miss…”

“Ferrah,” she said. “Got the name from my momma.”

“It’s lovely. Thank you for letting me have a glimpse of the Devil’s Dust.”

“Think of it like the sea,” she called as I turned to leave. “You need to respect it, study it, and be prepared for the worst. Even a stormy sea can capture the best of sailors.”

“But the best of sailors know when not to go out onto the sea.”

Ferrah saluted me. “You’re ready, Mixologist. Thank you for your services.”





Chapter 21



I was still glowing thirty minutes later from the fairy’s compliments and the success of a completed mission. I was proud that I hadn’t had to lean on Gus, or really involve him in the slightest. A bit of independence put a nice spring in my step. I whistled a low tune as The Forest grew steadily darker. If I was remembering correctly, I should be at the bridge in a minute or two.

However, a minute or two stretched into ten or twenty, and the darkness set in hard and fast. There was nothing subtle about night within The Forest’s walls. The blackness smothered everything inside of the branches and opened up the door for creatures of the night.

The happy glow from the success of safely gathering the Dust of the Devil faded rapidly as I stumbled further into the darkness. The light at the end of the tunnel should have appeared by now. Normal watches didn’t work on The Isle, but according to my inner clock I should have been halfway across the bridge and well on my way home. Even worse, none of my surroundings looked familiar.

Liam’s words floated through my head: Have a goal when entering The Forest.

My heart sank. As I’d been floating on cloud nine and whistling my way back, I’d forgotten the most integral part of this entire trip. To remember why I’d come. I swore quietly, kicking myself for my forgetfulness. Now, the success of navigating The Forest alone, solving the riddle, and befriending a fairy was all overshadowed by one large, looming problem: None of it mattered if I couldn’t find my way out.

A bird trilled in the distance, jolting me to attention. Hidden beings lurked behind every corner, and I realized with startling clarity that I had no way to differentiate between the deadly and the friendly. If it weren’t for the fairy’s generosity, I might already be dead.