“Well, if she doesn’t, I will!”
Sylvie turned.
There was Georgia, slinking in to view like a pouncing cheetah.
“Ah … the southern belle!” Fernand seemed almost amused. “You girls really are quite heroic.”
Sylvie had a horrible feeling she was missing something. Fernand seemed way too calm.
Georgia’s eyes locked with Sylvie’s. “It’s ready.”
The rope vine!
They had a way out. But they still needed to distract Fernand.
Sylvie tried to find her voice. “So why are you confessing to us?”
“Because. In a few minutes, your friends won’t remember it, anyway.” Fernand pulled something out of his pocket.
Sylvie’s gaze settled on the vial. A strand of silver danced inside like a twirling string of moonlight.
“S-slidrian,” stammered Flora.
“Correct,” said Fernand. “Harmless when cooked … but a potent amnesiac when raw. Luckily, I know how to steer this spell perfectly. You’ll remember enough for no one to grow suspicious, but all the important bits will be gone.”
Georgia eyes cut through him. “You can’t overpower all three of us, and I’m certainly not drinking it!”
“I thought you might say that.” Fernand tucked the vial back into his pocket. “Luckily, you already did. I slipped it into your sodas back in my office.” His eyes narrowed. “Of course, Sylvie didn’t finish hers. I suppose it’ll be your word against mine.”
Sylvie’s insides turned to jelly. She tried to find her voice. “M-my mom … she’ll get the others to listen.”
Fernand laughed. “The Sage who was already tangled in a swirl of scandal, versus me, the son of the great Balthazar LeGrande. My family is one of the few outside of the CCS to be ranked as gold. Even if you manage to save your mom, which you won’t, who do you think Bass will believe?”
Now, panic swallowed Sylvie whole. She’d almost forgotten about Bass. But Fernand was right. Without proof, there was no way he’d believe her.
“Face it. You’re toast,” said Fernand. “You see, when I first listened to Guy’s message, I was worried. The last thing I needed was Josephine dragging up the past. If the world found out what I’d done, it would be the end for me and the competition.” His eyes glinted. “But then I realized this was an opportunity. I could finally get rid of Josephine and the meddlesome past.”
Sylvie’s eyes darted around the room. The large bottle of FizzleFott’s soda caught her eye. Maybe there was a way to distract Fernand. Sylvie nudged Georgia. “Do you still have the Mentos?” she whispered.
Why?mouthed Georgia.
Sylvie tilted her head toward the bottle of soda.
Georgia nodded and fished out the roll.
Fernand pulled out the small black box he’d handed to Sylvie. He flicked the lid open. A bright red switch poked out of the top like a bull’s-eye. “The story will go like this. I left the girls in my office, told them not to touch anything. But Sylvie, being just as arrogant as her mother, didn’t listen. She went through my things, found the box, and foolishly pushed the button.”
Sylvie slid her hand onto the counter, inching it closer to the soda.
“Zotter’s kitchen is right next to the firework launch pad.” Fernand’s lips went slack. “So sad that it was docked. It’ll get the brunt of the explosion … the loss will be terrible … my troubled friend … your mother.”
“Death at the Golden Whisk? Not smart.” Sylvie needed to keep Fernand talking. “Think of all the negative press.”
He shook his head. “That’s the beauty of it. When there’s no spell to trace, tongues will be wagging for months. Every blog. Every magazine. They’ll all put their spin on it… . You know what they say. There’s no such thing as bad publicity.”
Sylvie grabbed the bottle. “You won’t get away with this!”
“Oh, but I already have!” Fernand’s finger hovered over the button. “Say goodbye to your mother.”
