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.

This was my plan at the home with little white window boxes spilling over with flowers. I smelled cabbage, carrot, and beef stew cooking through the slightly open windows. My stomach rumbled, but my mind knew the smell meant I had to be especially cautious when peering through these windows to see where the path lead. Standing on my toes of my fine boots, my nose grazed the bottom ledge of the window.

The floor was polished wooden planks running from one wallpaper covered wall to the other. Rugs, not exotic but comfortable in the winter no doubt, laid at the entryway, in front of the fireplace, and before a small sofa by a shelf that had five entire books on it. Laundry was draped on the other side of the room across a string: a few dresses, some underclothes, a dark tunic with gold glinting off of its chest. Was that decoration or part of the trail? No, wait, there it was, the sparkling magic trail ran straight through the home's front door and out through the back.

This could be it. This could be the first clue. But no one was there-

A hand rested on my shoulder, the fingers tense. I was spun around. I staggered, struggling to keep my balance. I stared at the man. He was shorter than me, but wider. Muscle rippled underneath his tunic, which was black. I recognized the writing on the chest. BROS, Those were the local Divinis' men, weren't they?

"Any particular reason you're peeping in at my friend's home?" He asked me, his beard bouncing with each word. I found it hypnotic. All that hair, but it maintained its shape. I'd never wanted a beard, my chin patch was responsibility enough.

"I'm sorry," I said, lowering my gaze. "I was searching for something. A friend."

"Your friend?" he asked. His mouth hung open a little, and I could see he was wearing partial dentures, the yellowness of his natural teeth contrasted with the whites of his artificial ones. His anger had melted; he didn't think I was a leering pervert anymore, or a thief, but confused. Good. Then I could ask for help.

"Uh-huh." I held my arm above my head. It seemed hard to keep my arm straight up, but I managed with effort. "She's taller than this and she is pretty and glows in the dark and can kick bandits into trees." I dropped my arm and imitated one of Mallow's kicks exuberantly, losing balance. I fell, my butt hitting the stone path. Thankfully this part was clean, more in the residential area than the rest of my journey through Blythe. The BROS chuckled under his breath. I recognized his laughter. He was the one who told Winsor the sheep story.

"She's a Moon Giant," I finished.

The BROS stopped laughing.

"Hmm, she'd be pretty hard to lose," he said. "Being so large."

"I lost her, but then I found her, but then..." I swayed slightly in my spot, trying to get up. Eventually I did, and I met the man's eyes again. I had to tilt my chin down a little. "She was..." I leaned in close. I felt like I could trust this guy, a warm sensation from my gut to my heart. "Was kidnapped," I whispered, louder than I meant to. The man's eyes opened wide.

His head swiveled left and right. "You... saw who did this?"

"Sort of." I pinched my fingers together. "There was a big, stupid wall." I spat the word wall out. "A big, stupid WALL in the way, but I'm going to find her tonight," I said.

"How are you going to do that?" he asked patiently. He reached out and held my elbow with one hand, while the other rested on the hilt of his sword.

I laughed, pointing at my face.

"My eyes," I said. "I put beer in them."

His thumb traced the hilt of his sword.

"Yes, I can tell you put beer somewhere," he said. "But... wouldn't that make it harder to see, not easier?" he asked. I shook my head, and as I did so, I bent and saw the trail still glimmering faintly behind him, leading around the corner.

"Yeah it made me cry a lot, but I can still see it cos it had tracking potion in it," I said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find her." I stepped away from my friend. That BROS was a nice guy, I thought to myself. No, not just nice. He was the best guy.

Thoughts like this addled my brain as I continued to shakily follow the trail. I knew, intellectually, that I was drunk. I tried, generally, not to get drunk when there were things to do. This situation, however, had led to me unfortunately finding myself with no recourse.

Far from making me less effective in searching for Mallow, it made me more frantic and reckless. Each sentimental and emotional moment we shared together would spring into my mind. The idea of never having her near me again caused me on more than one occasion to collapse against a wall beside the trail and stifle my crying. That not-hungry ache in my stomach flared.

I thought of the years we spent hitting all of the cities along the coast when she was about ten. She was two inches bigger than me back then. I was going through some rough times, nervous someone would hurt her when she was too big to hide but too small to fight, and spent a lot of time debating whether or not the Avalons would take her now that they saw she wasn't a threat. She told me constantly how much she loved me and would never want to live with those shiny icicles, but I doubted and doubted. We had decided to stay in a cave near the beach, and I had fallen asleep uneasily. The next morning, Mallow woke me up by placing a crown of flowers she picked on my head. Drowsily, she guided me down the shore where I saw a rough silhouette in the rising sun near the tides. A tall sand castle stood.

She hugged my arm as I walked to it. It only got more impressive when I got closer. The castle had little windows and a tiny drawbridge made of sticks, the insides plucked out so dark shadows fell over where windows would be. She had taken her nail and gently etched a stonework pattern into the smooth sand. It was up to my head.

"This is beautiful," I said. I gazed down at her. "You made this?"

I saw gray circles on her white face beneath the eyes.

"Uh-huh. You're stronger and wiser than the Sublime Cosmotic Incanteror himself, and I thought it was about time you had your own castle, Dad."

My throat choked. I spent several minutes walking around it, admiring it. It was all the more beautiful because I knew Mallow wasn't naturally artistic. Each little groove and notch and creative flair had probably taken its toll and a lot of frustration.

"It's a shame we have to leave it here," I said. She stretched, yawning.

"Your castle is not the kind of thing that can be boxed up and moved. It's..." She fought off another yawn, shuddering before beaming at me. "It's the adventure, you know? If it could be saved to be admired later, it'd get all dusty."

She collapsed into my arms.

"And I love it that you're never dusty." She nuzzled her head against my chest. "Dad, take me back to the carriage."

Even though she weighed more than me that day, I did my best. We both ended up laughing after the dragging, tripping, and stumbling into the piles of sand. When we got back to the carriage, Mallow slept all day after admitting she stayed up the entire night before crafting the castle. I didn't scold her, even though it was against our rules. Her cute snores reminded me that no matter how hard things got these days, I hadn't had to be alone in years.

The memory devastated me more than the others flitting across my mind had. I collapsed against the side of a building and cried.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and followed the blurry trail further into town. The walk got harder as the ground inclined more the further I went. There was a nice band playing, but I had no time to pay attention to them. I tried to move around the crowd that gathered in front.

"Hey, are you Azark?" A woman, ungifted in her plain linens but shapely in her full figure, asked me. She flashed me a happy smile, not ceasing her dancing but taming it so she could move and talk at the same time.

"I don't have time to dance right now," I said, bowing my head in respect to the flirty lady. I took a step back when she moved to touch my hand. I must have been irresistible tonight. More likely the party was making everyone more adventurous. "I know that my reputation probably proceeds me, and to lose me as a dance partner will devastate you." I apologized, rambling. She sulked, arms pressing together in front of her so that her chest swelled. My eyes swept skyward and fixated on the heavy moon, determined not to lose focus.

"Aww." She grabbed my hand, this time successfully since I wasn't watching her to dodge it. The skin felt too hot. "If you won't dance with me, at least take this drink." She had a small cup with liquid sloshing around it in her hand.

I shook my head, though my throat was parched... I let my gaze sink down to the cup again. When she spoke, it was as if the drink itself was encouraging me.,

"Come on, drink up!"

"I can't, I have to find Mallow," I explained. I let my hand fall limp and away from the cup. I tried to walk past her. She put the cider beneath my nose, and it smelled so good. I touched my throat with my hand. Why did I make those fake potions so poorly? I could have at least made them refreshing if they had so little real magic in them.

"It's not strong, just a treat. It's apple. I bought too much and I can't drink more without risking getting into more trouble than I'm looking for." She winked at me and laughed.

Unable to resist with the drink in hand, I drenched my parched throat with the liquid. I swallowed, and only after lowering my glass did I read her second expression. Her smile was drawn too tight. A crinkle was between her eyebrows, which angled toward the middle. I handed the cup back, and she took it. Her hands were shaking a little.

"Tasted good," I said. "Are you all right—"

"Glad to hear it. Enjoy the festival." She cut me off with a tight smile. She peeped over her shoulder, and sunk back into the crowd. Odd behavior. Maybe her boyfriend had spotted her and was the jealous type?

Refreshed by the cider, I hurried away from the crowd of dancers until I found the path once again. I passed the Avalonry, which stood quiet and gleaming in the full moon light. With everyone down by the band that was playing, I was once again in the quiet. I noticed for the first time the bubbling pond on the left side of the building, the sound of fresh, clean water seeming even more appealing. I shook my head and continued to follow the trail.

The one path on the stone streets diverged into two paths, running parallel. I stopped. The path behind me was twinned too... in fact, everything was swimming in and out of focus. I did a quick count of how many of the potion beer concoctions I had drank. It hadn't been so many as to cause something like this.

My knees gave out. I closed my eyes. My head felt light. What was going on? What was wrong with me?

I forced my eyes open and took in the moon hovering heavy in the sky. I reached up with one hand, stretching. Mallow. Couldn't rest. Needed to get...

My eyelids closed like iron clamps. My arm fell weakly to my side. I breathed shallowly, my mind a muddled mess. Metal plate against metal plate clinked musically. Strong hands slipped underneath me, but as I rolled, I met a wall of unwarm steel. It hurt the tip of my nose. A horse trotted by, the rumble of carriage wheels. I was floating, my body tethered by the cold steel I slumped against and two sturdy arms. An incoherent dream. Even though it hadn't been enough drink to cause me to pass out, that's what I'd done. I sunk deeper into the dreams, waking only long enough to feel the real, rough stone on the street replace the hallucinatory steel. I moaned. I'd be trampled. I'd die in the street. I couldn't, not yet. Not with Mallow waiting for me...

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