Madly by Amy Alward Page A

ingredients. Simple, right? Sure, when you can only pick a certain leaf on the third new moon of the year, and if you miss that window, the next one’s not going to be for another twelve months. Or when you have to track a sabre-tooth lion through the Aluptian mountains, risking death by mauling. It’s a specialized skill too—to know what equipment to take, how to survive out there in the Wilds, and also to recognize the ingredients when you see them. The best Finders go out on assignment and come back with a million things you didn’t ask for, but all of a sudden realize you need.
    Synths don’t need Finders, not when they can create the ingredients in a lab. Against her better judgment, Kirsty’s been forced to become more of an entrepreneur, peddling pretty but useless trinkets like amethyst pendants and gullfish eyes to eager tourists. She even had a market stall for a while along Royal Lane, but Kirsty is no good at sitting still, and she knows it.
    â€œI heard Emilia was at the palace,” Kirsty says.
    I nod slowly. The thought of Emilia’s body, tainted by those dark potions, still turns my blood cold. “She says she’s a master alchemist now.”
    â€œShe hasn’t wasted a moment of her exile. I’ve heard stories about her, too.” Kirsty hesitates. “In addition to her alchemical training, she’s spent all these years exploring the Wilds. I heard a ranger say there was no better Finder in the world. She could be a step ahead of the hunt already.”
    My eyes widen. “Alchemist and Finder in one?”
    â€œShe’s going to be a formidable opponent. Even if she isn’t trying to find the cure, she’ll know exactly how to stop us.”
    I swallow hard. I hadn’t considered the possibility that someone wouldn’t want to cure the princess. But if the princess dies . . . then Emilia would be the next queen. And life in Nova would never be the same again.
    I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this. Joining the hunt would mean going out there . . . into the Wilds. The untamed lands outside of the major cities and towns. The Wilds are carefully protected sanctuaries of nature, where streams of magic can flow unchecked. Access to the Wilds is strictly controlled. Granddad thinks the regulations around the Wilds are a joke—once the entire world was Wild, of course, but towns and cities have spread like fungus until only comparatively smallacreages of wild land are left. There are reasons for this, of course. This is a modern world. Magic is unstable out in the Wilds, and cities are much safer places for Talenteds to live. Something about the more people pulling on the stream of magic, the stronger and more stable it gets. Like a rope made up of many twisting strings. Out in the Wilds, those threads get spread further and further apart, and become more likely to fray—or even break—with violent consequences. The magic in the Wilds is just too powerful for most Talenteds to control. In some places, it would be like turning on a tap and expecting a stream—but instead getting an ocean.
    Of course, the Wilds are dangerous for the ordinary among us too: full of creatures waiting to bite your head off. And plants that might do that too.
    The Wilds are for the adventurous people of the world, like Kirsty. They’re not for people who would rather live their adventures through characters in books. I like staying home, thank-you-very-much, where I know I can always find a plug point for my laptop, I’m never ten steps from a kettle to boil for tea, and I can go to sleep wrapped up in the comfort of my own duvet.
    â€œAlchemists belong in the lab,” Granddad says, and he only leaves the building to play pétanque with the other old folk. Everything else he needs is here.
    Sometimes we’re more alike than I care to admit.
    You’ve got the Kemi gift. Kirsty’s words ring in my