Witchy Sour(65)
“What are you doing here?” I whispered aloud. “Who took you from me?”
I forced my eyes away from the spellbook and focused on the rest of the small island. On the far side, a few steps past the book, sat a small jar the size of Pooh Bear’s honey pot. Underneath it, a small blue fire crackled, which was the source of the glow I’d seen from a distance.
Peeking into the miniature cauldron, I held my breath as a purple-blue liquid frothed and bubbled inside. A small ray of steam twirled up from the surface, and I took a step back, hesitant to inhale unknown fumes that were likely brewed by a thief.
I quickly scanned the rest of the grassy knoll, but there wasn’t anything else out of place. A few sticks littered the ground while rocks the size of my fist created an embankment of sorts down to the bubbling brook. All of it appeared to be native to The Forest.
Returning to the book, I cautiously flipped the pages open to the leaf-marked spot. When nothing happened immediately, I scooched closer and read over the page, holding my breath until I reached the very end.
“That is not good,” I said to myself. “Not good at all…”
Most of the words in this book had been carefully scripted in ink made from gold. The thin, twirly words had a timeless feel that easily had me believing they’d been written centuries ago by the original Mixologist. However on this page, the spell was handwritten in what looked like plain black ink. The writing was neat, drawn with the thick-to-thin swirls of a calligraphy pen and the smooth flow of a steady hand. Even so, it was new. So new that the page was devoid of normal wear and tear.
It wasn’t the newness of the spell, or the lack of wear and tear on the page. The name of the spell is what gave me pause: Vitamins for Vampires.
After inspecting the list of ingredients, there was no doubt in my mind that this was the potion that’d been created for Poppy. At the very bottom of the list sat the mystery ingredient I had in my pocket. Dust of the Devil had been highlighted and circled with a red pen, and in the margins of the spell someone had written a note.
Swap for Hog’s Vein.
The writing was different from that on the rest of the page. Likely, a new hand had recently penned this note, judging by the unfaded coloring. Swap Hog’s Vein? This could easily be Gus’s writing, but it also could belong to a chicken. The note had been scratched out and the handwriting was difficult to read. Gus normally wrote with painstaking clarity on the permanent labels, but I’d seen him jot down notes here and there for himself, and those resembled the handwriting of all men in the world—chicken scratch.
I sat back and crossed my legs, reading over the spell a few more times before letting my mind drift off into space. I stared at nothing in particular, running through a list of potential reasons the spellbook had ended up in The Forest. Why had the thief set up shop here? Sure it was secluded, but there had to be safer places to brew a potion. As for the Vamp Vites—that wasn’t a particularly harmful mixture. The worst it’d do is upset a non-vamp’s stomach for a few minutes. It was hardly dangerous, and it certainly wasn’t deadly according to Gus.
Thinking of my mentor—who was back in the real world—made me remember that I was stuck in The Forest with no way out. I needed to get back. I scooped up The Magic of Mixology in my arms and gave one last look at the cauldron. From the pictures in the spellbook, this potion was a halfway-brewed vitamin for Poppy. According to the description, the potion bubbled blue and simmered purple. It wasn’t until the Dust of the Devil was added that the potion assumed it’s final, blood-red shade.
I’d leave the potion for now. If I found my way out of The Forest, Ranger X and I could come back. I wouldn’t remember the directions, but he might be able to find the way. The first priority was to get out of here. The second was to talk to Ranger X, which was necessary to accomplish the third point: Find Gus.
Liam’s words danced in my head once more as I leapt across the small stream around the teensy island. The flash of cold bit at my skin, but it was gone before I could shiver. Have a goal, my brain told me over and over again. I focused on the vision of the Upper Bridge, of talking to Ranger X and of weaving my way through The Forest with ease.
After a few hesitant steps, I found myself gaining confidence and picking up the pace. I couldn’t have written directions on paper or explained them to a friend. But somehow, I knew the way out.
Whether it came from inside of me or from The Forest itself, I couldn’t say. One step after another drew me in a curvy path, twisting and turning through the trees. The breeze acted as a whisper in my ear, guiding me away from the heart of the darkness.