Forty-Eight

The next day the Portland police declared Brixton well enough to talk with them about what had happened with Ivan. He told the police that Ivan had gone crazy and started to believe all the historical alchemy books he was studying. Brixton also said that Ivan had convinced him he needed his help to save his life. Of course he’d wanted to help. But Brixton swore he didn’t know what Ivan had in mind. Max knew him well enough that he might have picked up on the fact that Brixton wasn’t telling the whole story, but with the detectives on the case, Brix played the role of an innocent, gullible, and slightly selfish kid to perfection.

The police thankfully hadn’t yet gotten the results of the full DNA testing, so they hadn’t connected Brixton to Lucien’s dead body. As soon as I was sure Brixton was truly safe, then I’d be ready to make my sacrifice for Dorian.

I visited Brixton after he returned home from the police station. His mom was sitting on one side of his bed.

“I’m never letting this one out of my sight again,” she said. She pulled him close and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “He’s grounded for the rest of the summer.”

Brixton rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Mom.”

Heather’s breezy smile turned almost as grim as the day I’d seen her at the morgue. “I’m dead serious, Brix.”

“But I—but you—I mean, I nearly died.”

“Exactly,” Heather said. “You’re too old to get away with acting so stupidly. Running off to a foreign country with a delusional neighbor? I liked Ivan, too, but you can’t do things like that, honey.”

Brixton leaned back on the assortment of pillows his mom had propped up. I had a feeling his summer of being “grounded” would consist of a fair amount of TLC from his parents and probably visits from his friends Ethan and Veronica.

“At least I haven’t been keeping a secret,” Brixton said, making a face at his mom. “You want to know why Mom has been disappearing lately, Zoe?”

“Brix!” Heather said, “I’m not telling people yet!”

“You said it wasn’t a secret anymore.”

“Not a secret to you, silly.”

“Zoe is family, Mom.”

I felt a lump form in my throat.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry for the secrecy. I didn’t want to tell anyone, especially Brixton, before I knew if I’d succeed.”

“You’ll succeed,” a deep voice said. Abel leaned against the bedroom door. “She’s studying for her GED.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said.

“You know I dropped out when I had Brix,” Heather said. “In a year, he’ll have more education then I do. That’s not a great example.”

“You’re a great mom,” Abel said. He strode across the room and gave them both a hug. “Stay for dinner?” he asked me.

“I wish I could,” I said.

Heather pulled Abel to the bedroom door. “We’ll let you two visit a few more minutes while Abel starts dinner.”

I’d never been inside Brixton’s room before, yet it felt to me like something was missing. “Your mom took away your guitar?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I sorta … sacrificed it.”

“Why would you—”

“Ivan said I had to make a sacrifice for the alchemy to work. That’s what we thought the sacrifice was. Giving up something I loved.”

“Oh, Brix. I’m so sorry. Your heart was in the right place. Where did you toss it? The Willamette?”

“Pawn shop. I used the money for my ticket to Paris. Ivan talked about intent being important in alchemy. My sacrifice used my intent and got me to Paris. Wicked city, by the way.” He smiled mischievously for a few seconds before growing serious again. “I’d do it again, you know. To help him not die. I mean, as long as it didn’t mean dying myself. Which is totally messed up.”

A happy tear slid down my cheek as I walked back to my truck. I’d leave my truck and trailer to Tobias, I thought to myself. Since Rosa was dying, he’d soon need a change. He liked my truck when he visited a few months ago. Maybe he’d like the Airstream too.

At home, Leopold was still passed out, although now his hefty gray body was sprawled on my green velvet couch. I poked the bottom of his foot. He twitched but didn’t open his eyes. I poked his foot again.

“‘I have felt the wind of the wing of madness,’” he mumbled, then rolled over.

I felt myself roll my eyes like my young friend would have done. Leopold wouldn’t be disturbing me anytime soon. I unlocked the door to my basement alchemy lab and began the preparations for my sacrifice.

I lit a kerosene lamp and walked to my main work table. A prickle made its way up my spine. Someone had been inside my lab. Recently. My gold leaf was gone, as were all of my salts.

But Percy was the one who’d searched my lab before, and he was long gone. Wasn’t he?

Where was Percy?