‘She’ll be fine,’ said Helga. She glanced sideways at Horatio, who was standing there like he didn’t know what to do with his hands – just like he had done during the car ride to the airport. ‘Would you mind passing me that corked bottle to your left?’ Helga asked. Their fingers brushed as Horatio passed the bottle and Olivia thought she noticed the faintest hint of a quiver run through the butler. ‘Thank you.’
Helga was grinding herbs into a thick paste that let out noisy squelches each time she stirred. She pointed and Horatio passed and, with each new solution added to the gooey mix, the smell wafting out of the bowl became more and more foul.
‘Once you drink this –’ Helga held up a spoonful of slimy, dripping goop – ‘you’ll feel one thousand times better.’
Drink? Olivia tried to let out a groan but her throat was now so swollen that making any kind of noise was out of the question. Horatio took a step forwards, opening his mouth to say something, but then stopped and retreated again. Helga turned just in time to see Horatio step back.
‘Oh, were you about to –’
‘No, I just . . .’ Horatio wrung his hands.
‘Oh, right, well I’d better . . .’ Helga trailed off and went back to stirring. Horatio, normally a giant, seemed suddenly shorter. Olivia frowned with frustration. If only I could talk! I would get those two chatting away in no time! But her tongue was filling her entire mouth and anything she managed to garble would have come out as nonsense. Not to mention the fact that the allergic reaction was boggling her brain, too! What if she couldn’t breathe? What if she swelled up into a big balloon and floated away? All while Horatio and Helga were making googly-eyes at one another.
OK, calm down, Olivia. Focus on the positive. She tried to relax and redirect her thoughts towards something more productive.
For instance, Olivia had managed to get these two together and talking – in a way. So what if she had only been trying to take her mind off Jackson? It didn’t matter, because Helga and Horatio would make the cutest vampire couple ever!
H + H . . . How sweet!
Helga turned to pour her mixture into a glass as Horatio helped Olivia sit up. She jerked her head in Helga’s direction, lifting her eyebrows as if to tell him, Go on, say something! Why couldn’t she be telepathic?
Horatio squinted, staring at Olivia. Olivia jerked her head again, but Horatio just peered closer.
‘Come quickly,’ he said, ‘I think something is wrong with Miss Olivia!’ Olivia tried to shake her head. You’re missing the point!
Helga came over to look at Olivia, bringing the glass of smelly herb sludge with her. At least Olivia’s plan had sort of worked. Helga and Horatio were now standing next to each other – that was something.
‘She’ll be fine once she drinks this,’ Helga said, handing Olivia the glass.
Bottoms up! Olivia pinched her nose and took a swig. It had to be one of the most disgusting things she had ever tasted. She would rather swallow a tubful of Charlotte Brown’s fake tan than drink this stuff. But immediately the swelling in her tongue started to go down, and the hot itching in her legs began to fade. Phew!
Helga grabbed a sack from the other side of the greenhouse and propped it under Olivia’s head so that she could lie back down – which was good, because she felt like she was going to need a moment to digest the horrible medicine.
Olivia rested in the humid air of the greenhouse, breathing in the scent of fresh soil and flowers. Horatio and Helga stood on either side of the table, gazing at each other. Suddenly, Olivia was a little grossed out. She wanted Horatio to be happy, but what if those two leaned over her to have their first kiss?
Um – ew!
As Olivia’s eyelids started to grow heavy from the medicine, Helga turned away from Horatio with nothing more than a shy smile. Olivia drifted off to sleep, unable to keep her eyes open any more.
Getting Horatio and Helga together would have to wait.
Ivy’s combat boots had rubbed penny-sized blisters on her feet and she was seriously thinking about asking to borrow Olivia’s ballet flats for the rest of the weekend. She had taken a bus back from Wallachia Academy and was now making the long trek up the country road leading to the Lazar family’s massive front gate.
The sun was a burning orb hanging low in the Transylvania sky, and a light breeze tousled the bullrushes growing alongside the road. Ivy knew she should feel lucky. She was taking a walk in one of the most scenic countries in the world before getting to attend a real, live royal wedding. But it was hard to enjoy herself when she knew she might have to stay here indefinitely. Instead of making her feel better about staying in Transylvania, her tour of Wallachia had been a total disaster!
Ivy kicked a pebble and watched it skitter along. Then she looked up to see a vamp so obvious, he might as well have been wearing a cape . . . Wait – he was wearing a cape! How utterly lame! She wouldn’t have thought that Transylvania, home of the vampires, would have its very own version of the Beasts. It was like looking into a crystal ball and seeing Garrick Stephens’ future. The vampire was walking towards her down the rural road, stopping every once in a while to stare past the fence and into the Lazars’ estate. What in Dracula’s name is he doing?
Ivy flashed a brief smile as she passed the over-the-top vampire. He flung his cape over his shoulder with a big whoosh and lowered his chin in acknowledgment. ‘My Lady,’ he said.
‘Um, hi!’ Ivy ground her teeth together, stifling her laughter. The vamp’s long, dark hair was arranged in what she could only describe as a well-maintained mullet. If only Olivia were here to see – this man was a walking crime against fashion! Yuck.