The Potion Diaries by Amy Alward Page A

him in before he graduated. Purposefully avoiding eye contact until the last possible moment, I catch a glimpse of glamoured tattoos shifting round his bicep. If he were anyone else, I’d say they were cool, but I keep my mouth firmly shut.
    Finally I make eye contact. ‘Can I help you?’
    ‘Nice store. I mean . . . I’m sorry about the vandals, I heard about that. Did they take anything important?’
    ‘No,’ I say, curtly. Zain jams his hands in his pockets and rocks slightly on his heels. It’s such a self-conscious move that I realise he must be nervous. I almost laugh, but quickly stifle the smile in case he thinks it’s
for
him, rather than
about
him.
    ‘Look, I came by to say sorry ’bout what happened. At the Rising. That wasn’t very . . . sporting of us.’
    ‘Yeah, generally cheating isn’t considered to be “sporting”.’ What century did he think he was from anyway? ‘But hey, you got what you wanted, I’m out – though I’m not quite sure why you’ve bothered to come all this way to remind me of that.’
    I’m expecting him to turn around and leave now his apology is over, but instead he comes further into the store. He even dares to bend down and pick something up. If this counter wasn’t between us, I’d snatch it right out of his hands.
    ‘Don’t touch anything,’ I snap.
    ‘I’m just trying to help.’
    ‘I don’t need your help. Besides, I have it mapped out where each book was torn up and I don’t want to get the pieces mixed up.’ I don’t even know why I’m telling him this; I want him to leave but I can’t seem to shut up.
    ‘Look, I feel bad for what happened. Can I make it up to you in some way?’
    ‘Aren’t you supposed to be on the Hunt?’
    A flash of annoyance on his face. I finally feel like I might have got through to him.
    ‘Yes, I am. But we have our researchers working on figuring out what the next ingredient is after the merpearl and I wanted you to know that I tried to stop us blocking you at the Rising.’
    ‘And I’m supposed to thank you?’
    ‘Okay, whoa.’ He holds his hands up. ‘You don’t get it. My dad wants ZoroAster Corp to cure the Princess, no matter what. But I want to make sure she’s cured, no matter who does it. We should all have a fair shot. That’s why I came here, to tell you I’m sorry you’re out. And to ask for your help.’
    ‘Well the answer to that is no.’
    ‘Aren’t you going to hear me out?’
    ‘No. Why do you even want my help? Don’t you have your researchers to do that?’
    He leans forward on the counter, and gives me a conspiratorial grin. ‘They’re all right but I think you’re better.’
    I raise an eyebrow and lean away from him. His blue eyes are full of mischief, and he’s too close for comfort. ‘You do? Why?’
    He laughs. ‘Come on, you’re a legend!’
    ‘No, my family is the legend. I’m just an apprentice.’
    ‘Don’t deny it. I saw the concentration-boosting mix you were making for that competition. I came by your school a couple days before judging to look at how the entries were going. You’re good. I don’t know why you threw the competition, but I know you’re the real deal. Look, I get if helping us is a step too far. But let me make it up to you for what happened at the Rising. I can show you around the main ZA lab if you want?’
    Despite myself, I’m interested. A tour around one of ZA’s labs would be an incredible experience. Synth or not, I would give anything to see those mixers at work. It’s also very hard to get an invite – the labs are normally closed off to the public and the company likes to keep it that way.
    But then I pull myself back to reality. ‘Thanks but no thanks. I’m not going to work for the synths. Ever.’ I suddenly feel self-conscious standing here in the rundown store, the ever-present reminder that this is what my life will amount to.
    ‘Sometimes I wish I could work more with natural ingredients.’
    ‘Seriously?’
    ‘Yeah,