Beth poured Vuillard substance into the last of the twenty-four hemispherical holes in the board. There was just the right amount, because of course Isabelle had been that precise about it. Now she needed to pour a single dose of the potion of teleportation into the twelve half-orbs which didn’t come with the tiny holes. Then fit one of the half-orbs with holes to each of the half-orbs filled with potion, timing it so that the upper halves had set enough to keep their shape but not so much that they wouldn’t stick to the lower halves.

  Then key the potion inside the orbs – and wouldn’t that be a problem, when Isabelle was the only one capable of keying half of them the way they’d arranged and she wasn’t here – and then seal the orbs shut, hoping that the Vuillard substance hadn’t set enough to make that impossible, before the potion activated itself.

  And all the while try to hold off her impending mental breakdown until it was done. Try to ignore her growing terror about what Isabelle – what they were – was she going to –

  Beth picked up a glass vial. Her grip was too tight; if she wasn’t careful it would shatter. What difference did shattered glass make? Before she could think any more, she plunged the vial into the beaker full of bright red potion. It was marked with the exact amount of one dose. Getting that wrong would be dangerous for anyone who drank the potion.

  Not that the potion would have any effect, unkeyed as it still was. She held the vial up to the light, checking that the level of red liquid was precisely at the mark, and then poured it into one of the translucent grey hemispheres. That was good. Now repeat eleven more times. Then the tricky part would begin.

  She poured the rest of the potions into the orbs without incident. She used a curved spoon to pry the upper half of the first orb out of its mould, then took it in her hand. It felt… disconcerting. As if she was holding half-set jelly. But the half-orb kept its structure, which was a good sign. Now she just needed to… carefully, she placed it atop one of the potion-filled half-orbs and gently pressed the two halves together. They stuck. She breathed a faint sigh of relief, though to call this a relief when Isabelle was – no. She had eleven more orbs to stick together.

  As she worked, she considered the next step. They only really needed three orbs to get out of here, if the plan worked, but they’d worked out how they were planning to key each orb before starting. One just to the other side of the lab, as a proof of concept. Three to a house owned by the Alchemists’ Guild, where Isabelle planned to escape to. Two keyed to Isabelle’s current location and two to Beth’s – they would have made some for Jack’s location as well, but he wasn’t a magician so that was impossible. Three to a random alleyway in the town next to Beth’s, as somewhere no-one would think to look for them. And the last – well, that depended on whether they were actually able to get all twelve to work before the substance set. Likely just to the Alchemists’ Guild again, as a spare.

  Or that had been the plan, when Isabelle had been here. But the restriction that a magician could only teleport to a location they’d travelled to before extended to keying a potion of teleportation. And Beth had never been to the Alchemists’ Guild location Isabelle had in mind. In fact she had no way to reach the Guild without Isabelle’s help.

  So she and Jack could escape, yes – but then they’d have nowhere to go in the outside world. Beth wasn’t na?ve enough to think they wouldn’t be pursued, so they couldn’t expose her parents or Jack’s to that kind of danger. The plan had been for the Guild to shelter them, but without Isabelle… stars.

  Isabelle was going to come back. She had to. Beth glanced at the door as she pressed the last of the orbs together – they hadn’t set too much, thankfully – but it remained stubbornly closed.

  Well, it was either key the potions she could now or waste days of effort and priceless ingredients and ruin what could be her only chance of escape. Beth took a deep breath, called to mind the image of the other side of the lab, and pressed her hand to the hole in the nearest orb.

  The Vuillard substance was just about flexible enough that Beth could tug and squish it into place to plug the hole when she was done. And the potion inside didn’t vanish, though she had no way of knowing whether that was because it was sealed inside the shell of anti-magic or because the base’s anti-teleport wards had prevented her from keying it correctly.

  It was progress. Another step closer. She moved onto the next orb before time could run out.

  She keyed three orbs to the random alleyway without anything gone wrong, and was in the process of channelling the intent-imbued magic into the fifth orb when she was startled by the sound of the door swinging shut. She cursed, not knowing whether it had succeeded or failed and scared she’d lose the orb. But that irritation evaporated as soon as she saw who had walked through the door.

  Isabelle. She was back. She was safe. They were going to be okay.

  “Isabelle, thank the stars – “

  “No time,” Isabelle replied, without breaking stride as she crossed the laboratory towards Beth. “The orbs – are they – “

  “I’ve keyed four,” Beth replied. “You distracted me when I was working on a fifth. I don’t know if – “

  “Try and fix the fifth, and do one more. I’ll take the rest. They haven’t been too difficult to seal?”

  “No,” Beth said numbly.

  “Good.” Isabelle reached the other side of the table to where Beth was standing, and casually vaulted over the table to join Beth. Without another word, she pressed her hand over the hole in one of the unkeyed orbs.

  It hurt a little, that she was getting the relentless focused Isabelle and not the friend and mentor she desperately needed right now. But it was infinitely better than no Isabelle at all.

  She started again from scratch with the fifth orb, which she keyed to herself, hoping that that would be good enough. And then a sixth, also keyed to herself. And then she just had to wait, and watch Isabelle. What had happened? Maybe there was nothing wrong, and the Administration Department had just been playing mind games with her, and the rush was just that she was scared the Vuillard substance would set before she had time to key all of the orbs.

  It took less than a minute for Isabelle to finish, but it felt far longer. Beth started to say something, but the look on Isabelle’s face stopped her. Something was wrong, she knew in that moment.

  “Run the test,” Isabelle said.

  “I – me? Now?”

  Isabelle didn’t reply. She just gave Beth a look that left no room for disobedience.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Beth used the spoon to lever the first orb she’d keyed free of the mould. It was harder than the half-orbs had been; the substance had set a little in the meantime. She held the orb in the palm of her hand. It was just small enough that it would fit in her mouth in one go.

  “Time is extremely limited,” said Isabelle.

  Beth raised her hand to her mouth and tipped the orb in. And then nearly spat it out: it tasted foul, bitter, like something that had no business being eaten. She felt at the orb with her tongue. At first it seemed solid, but after a second she could feel it dissolving, disintegrating. Just as Isabelle had said.

  And then, after another second, there was a flash of inky darkness. When it cleared, Beth found herself standing at the other side of the lab. Just the location she’d held in her mind when keying the orb. She spat out the remnants of Vuillard substance. “It works!”

  “I need you to find Jack,” Isabelle replied. “Give him one each of your two orbs, and this one – keyed to the Guild. Make sure he knows which is which.”

  “Wasn’t he supposed to get one keyed to you as well?”

  “Circumstances have changed. Now, Beth.”

  Beth jogged back to the table. She took an orb keyed to herself and an orb keyed to the alley in one hand, and the one Isabelle gave her in her other hand. And tried to ignore the growing sense of apprehension in the back of her mind as she set off out into the rest of the building.

  Which was utterly, suspiciously, empty. No Jack in the dining room, or the bedrooms, or the bathroom, or indeed anywhere else. She considered leaving the building, thought better of it, and returned to the lab.

  Isabelle took one look at the orbs in Beth’s hands, and her face fell. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Gone – where? What’s happened to him?”

  “He’s okay. At least for now. I’m going on an excursion outside the base for a few days. They’re reassigning him to another station on this base. But it’s leverage to make sure I come back.”

  Beth blinked. “What’s this excursion?”

  “I don’t have time to explain,” said Isabelle. She was busy, Beth realised distantly: she’d produced a backpack from somewhere and was throwing jars and bottles and vials into it without anything resembling a pattern. “I have to leave soon. I was lucky to get even as long as I have.”

  “But we can find Jack before you go? And escape together?”

  Isabelle shook her head. “I’m going on the excursion. You need to find Jack and escape with him.”

  “I… what? What is this excursion?”

  “It’s important. Critically so. I – I have to do it. You and Jack go – I’ll meet you at the Guild in a week or so.”

  “…you don’t intend to come back from the excursion,” Beth said.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then – if I don’t manage to figure out where Jack is and get an orb to him – “

  “You will. So it doesn’t matter.”

  “I – “ Beth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She couldn’t understand. “Whatever this excursion is. Tell me one thing. Is it worth risking Jack’s life for?”

  “I trust you, Beth. It’s not a risk.”

  “Stop dodging the question,” Beth snapped. “Is it?”

  Isabelle hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Yes.”

  “No,” Beth found herself shouting. “It isn’t. Nothing is.”

  Isabelle tilted her head to one side, slowly, curious. “Are you going to stop me?”

  Beth felt her anger deflating as swiftly as it had come. “I… I can’t. Can I?”

  “No,” Isabelle agreed. “You can’t. Now – if you go to my bedroom and flip the mattress over, you’ll find a slit in it and a collection of papers. Bring those here.”

  Beth found herself shaking her head. “No,” she said. She felt a sort of wild recklessness. Everything had already fallen apart, so what did she have to lose by speaking her mind? “I did everything you wanted, went along with your mad ideas, because I thought it was the only way for the three of us to get out of here alive. And it worked. And we could have done that. And instead you’re running away on your own for some new mad scheme and risking Jack’s life in the process. You’re right that I can’t stop you, but I’m not going to help you either.”

  “If you must know,” said Isabelle without even pausing in her manic packing, “those papers are the contingencies you need. To escape, and to get through the door of the Alchemists’ Guild without me there. As well as some of my private alchemical notes, which I would like to be preserved. But if you don’t want them, that’s quite all right.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I’m – “ Beth paused to breathe “ – I’m not your servant, or your puppet, Isabelle. If you want my help, then you can tell me what you’re doing and why, and you can accept that you won’t be getting it otherwise.”

  “I do not have time to play nice with your feelings, Beth. Either do what I asked of you or get out of my laboratory.”

  If Beth didn’t get out of the laboratory, she was going to do something she’d regret. She’d never been inclined to violence, but right now she wanted to punch Isabelle in the face. “Fine,” she snapped. “Goodbye, Isabelle.”

  She didn’t look back as she slammed the door behind her. She just stormed through the building until she reached her bedroom. Then she locked herself in, flung herself onto the bed, and screamed.

  It might have been a minute, or an hour, that Beth lay there. But eventually she heard a soft knock at the door. “Go away,” she muttered, though there was no way the knocker could have heard her when she had her face buried in a pillow.

  The knocker didn’t oblige: a few seconds passed, then there was another knock. Beth supposed she should answer it. She dragged herself off the bed and over to the door, flicked the lock open, and pushed the door open a crack. Isabelle. As she should have expected.

  “I came to apologise,” Isabelle said, before Beth could decide whether to slam the door in her face.

  “All right,” Beth said, and opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  Isabelle had changed into travelling clothes, and wore the same backpack she’d been throwing alchemical ingredients and creations into earlier. She was holding a bundle of papers bound by faded red ribbon. Those must have been what she’d ordered Beth to fetch earlier. She took her backpack off and set it down just inside the door, and then they sat down side by side on the end of the bed.

  “I said awful things, earlier. It’s true that I didn’t have enough time, but that was no excuse for being so utterly insensitive. I – I’ve never seen you as a servant or a puppet, and I’m deeply sorry that I gave you that impression. I should have realised what a shock the changed plans would be, especially without a proper explanation.”

  “Are you going to give me a proper explanation, then?” That sounded harsh, but Beth was past caring.

  “It’s better that I don’t,” Isabelle replied. “At least not until we meet again at the Guild. But if you knew – stars, maybe you still wouldn’t understand. Maybe you’d still hate me. But – I have a good reason. Please, trust me at least enough to believe that?”

  “I…” Beth didn’t know what reason could be good enough to justify something like this. She knew so little, really, about what motivated Isabelle beyond escape and alchemy itself. “I don’t know.”

  “I suppose I can tell you this, then: when you get to the Guild, find out – subtly – what the starlit dream is. That’s what I’m after.”

  “Starlit dream,” Beth repeated. It was something.

  “I’ve prepared the papers I mentioned earlier,” Isabelle said, after a moment of silence. “You should find that everything is fairly clear, except my personal writings. Keep those safe until we see each other again. You can read them, if you like, but I don’t know how useful or comprehensible you’ll find them.”

  She moved to hand the papers to Beth. Beth didn’t take them, so after a moment she set them down in the gap between the two of them. “I suppose that leaves saying a proper goodbye, rather than angry words. That’s why I came, really. I – I’ve enjoyed living with you and working with you, these last months. You’ve been as good an apprentice as I could have wished for – and a good friend, as well.”

  Beth blinked. “I appreciate that, but – we’ll see each other again, when you make it to the Guild. Won’t we?”

  “Of course.”

  “This excursion of yours – is it dangerous?”

  Isabelle shrugged. “No more so than the danger I’ve been living with for two years. I’ll be fine, Beth. And so will you.”

  Beth wanted, so much, to believe her. She took a deep breath. “I – I don’t know if I can forgive you for this. I don’t understand any of it. But – thank you. For everything you’ve taught me. For making the Vuillard substance and coming up with your plan. And for – being a good friend to me, as well.”

  “Can I hug you?” Isabelle asked.

  Beth found her eyes were welling with tears. She’d cried a bit earlier, but she’d thought that was done. Apparently not. “Yes,” she said, her voice shaking.

  They stood up and embraced each other. It was warm, comfortable, nice.

  And, inevitably, temporary. “I suppose I should be going, then,” Isabelle said, pulling away.

  “If you must,” Beth replied numbly.

  “I must,” said Isabelle. She picked up her backpack and slung it back over her shoulders. “Goodbye, Beth. See you in a week.”

  “Goodbye, Isabelle,” Beth replied, standing and opening the door to let Isabelle out.

  Isabelle walked out without looking back.

  “See you in a week,” Beth whispered.

  smiles mysteriously