Phony Potions

Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

The dark windows on the home where the smashed garden wall was located indicated that the owners were either still out enjoying the festivities or were asleep. With this in mind, and not wanting to answer a bunch of bothersome questions, I walked into their garden as quietly as possible. The ambient noise of the music and dancing was dreamlike as crickets become audible in the quiet of the scene of Mallow's abduction. The dirt was still churned, the pile of spilled stone from where the wall was smashed bouncing up moonlight. It was hard to see any more detail than I had earlier, even if the streets were bright with lamplight and revelry. After shuffling around, I found the largest area of impact, the shape of my Mallow's torso pressed into the soft planting soil.

I opened four vials worth of the diluted potion and poured it out, assuming the imprint was where Mallow had struggled the most. It didn't leave a puddle, there was too little for it to, but instead was soaked up greedily by the sponge-like dirt. I found myself furious at the depth of the darkness, unable to see if I were looking at craters or shadows. Had I been mistaken? Had Mallow not touched that spot at all? Did the tracking potion even work on people? The Potioneer had said things...

I bounced anxiously on my heels while nothing happened. I fumed angrily about the Potioneer's righteous stupidity, smothering the knots his words tied in my stomach with my anger. As they squirmed in my mind... I remembered the next instruction.

I pulled the potion up to my face. I sniffed it and cringed. Alcohol. I had mixed it with lots and lots of booze. I knew from past experience that this was going to sting. And if he said it was a few drops of the normal potion, in order to get enough of the enchanted component into my eyes to matter, I'd probably have to pour the entirety of one or two of these bottles...

Though, maybe not. I drank half a dozen in rapid succession. By the fifth one I felt this was probably a pretty bad idea, but beneath the stirring of liquor in an empty stomach, I sensed a faint tingle across the roof of my mouth. Magic, it was in there still, somewhere. I stared with determination at the spot where I'd spritzed the previous potion.

Although I could feel the magic churning inside of me, I couldn't see anything on the spot. Irritated, I inhaled deeply. With one hand, steadied by resolve to rescue Mallow, I held apart my eyelids. With the other, trembling hand I raised one entire vial of the noxious knock-off potion. I bit my lip, held my breath, and poured. The muscles in my eye lids coiled, desperate to close as they watched the sparkling amber liquid descend. The smell hit my nose first, and then the liquor hit my eye.

Immediately my resolve snapped, my hand let go, my eyes clenched shut, and I stumbled around the garden, swearing loudly. I slapped my hands over my face, shielding my eyes, although I knew that it would do no good. After a good moment of shouting, my face was completely slicked with both the alcohol and my pained tears. When I could finally open my eyes again, I was pretty sure I must have cried out any of the potion that had managed to make it into my eyes.

And yet... in the churned dirt of the garden, I saw it. Like so many other things magical, it had a faint sparkle. A thin, golden trail that glittered in the moonlight, leading from the destroyed garden through the gate to the back alleys beyond.

Blinking rapidly, as my eyes still stung, I followed the trail. I tossed the now empty wooden carrying case off to the side in my excitement. In spite of the pain, this was great! Finding Mallow was going to be a cinch, considering this potion was working! Maybe I could sell diluted potions that actually sort-of did what they claimed? If the only side effect was a hang-over...

I imagined how brilliant the magic trail would have been if not diluted as I followed it through crooked passageways and back alleys that occasionally crossed the main streets. Sometimes the trail would enter small houses and exit out the back door, but I would walk around, lifting my head and peeking into the windows for a second.