Alchemist Academy: Book 1 (15 page)

BOOK: Alchemist Academy: Book 1
7.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

All the people in the room had left their tables and formed a small circle around me. What in the world was I making, and why had no one else been able to make it?

Going off my gut, I poured more of the salty substance into the bowl. Walt raised his eyebrows at my move, but I didn’t care. I had already started thinking about something that always got me angry, something which made me hurt so much, I rarely went to it.

My mom’s face had once been a sharp memory, but over the years I’d had to use pictures to cement it back in my mind. But pictures weren’t memories; they were a snapshot in time, and I felt my heart beating hard in my chest as I struggled to find that stark image of her. I hated that my mom had left me as a child. She had hurt me deeply and it wasn’t even her fault. I hated the fact she hadn’t seen me grow into a woman. But what I hated most of all was not being able to forgive her for dying.

I lifted the brown liquid up into the air. A deep mixture of emotions filled me and I had trouble steadying the liquid over the bowl. Jackie leaned in close, her rapid breath pulsating near my ear. The wood spoon struck the sides of the bowl, and I winced at the sound breaking the silence.

“Allie, stop!” Mark yelled.

I jumped at the interruption and dropped the container on the table. Jackie snatched it and kept it from spilling more than a few drops.

Mark was standing in the doorway.

“Great. Thanks for the interruption, Malki,” Jackie seethed.

“I can’t believe what you were having her make.” He stormed past the doorway to the edge of my desk.

The wind he’d created blew against the perspiration on my face. The anger slipped from my consciousness and I looked to Mark for an explanation. Jackie crossed her arms and scowled.

“I don’t know—” Jackie began to say.

Mark raised his hand toward Jackie’s face. She gasped, and I didn’t like it much either. I didn’t like this angry Mark who wouldn’t explain himself.

“That is a memory stone.” He glared at Jackie. “Right?”

Jackie looked at the floor. “Yes, but—”

Mark interrupted her again. “That kind of stone, in the wrong hands, can do a lot of harm.”

I looked at the salt in the bowl and wondered what a memory stone did. “Like, it removes memories?”

“Exactly.”

“How would you control something like that?”

“You don’t. It could wipe the last ten minutes of your life from your memory, or much longer, depending on the potency. And from the look of the diamond dust in the bowl, I bet it would have been much longer.”

I stared up at Jackie and rose from my chair. She wouldn’t look at me at first, then met my eyes.

“You were planning on wiping a Blue’s memory?” I asked.

“Everyone out!” Jackie yelled, and glared at everyone in the room. Mark crossed his arms and stood like an unmovable stone.

The other people in the room darted out, leaving just the three of us.

Mark staggered toward my table and leaned on it with one hand. His other hand clutched at his stomach. His face contorted with pain and he struggled to stay standing. I rushed to his side. He righted himself and gave me a weak smile.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it was something you ate.”

“It’s nothing. I just get these stomach pains sometimes.”

“You’re sweating. You don’t look right.”

“You look like hell,” Jackie added.

“Thanks. It’s just something that comes and goes. It’s been happening my whole life. I just get used to it most of the time.”

I took in a deep breath and gazed at the perspiration on his forehead. My stomach wrenched in pain as well. He wiped his face and within a minute, he had smoothed out his face in an attempt to look normal, but the corners of his eyes were creased. Before I could ask him about it, he glared at Jackie.

“I don’t like you using her like this.”

Jackie crossed her arms and huffed. “Please, you Malkis all use us to get by. You couldn’t create a simple growth stone, from what I hear.”

“This isn’t about me, and you know it.” Mark moved closer to Jackie. “She’s special, and people like you want to suck her up, drink her down, and piss her out. I won’t allow it.”

I thought Jackie might have tears in her eyes, but I must have been mistaken. She pointed at me. “Allie won’t have it in her forever to make these kinds of stones. The anger fades over time. I
need
that stone.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you get it? I’ve seen too much. I’ve been here too long, and I’m numb to it all. I have rages, but they burn out like quick fuses. I’ve almost lost all of my deep anger, no matter what I do.”

Being numb to the hate seemed foreign to me. I couldn’t imagine getting used to, or even forgiving, the things people had done to me. Most of the time, I felt as if I was suppressing the anger versus trying to summon it. I had felt it for so long, it was a relief to finally find a way to express it. Making the stones let me take the cap off the bottle. The rage jutted out and seemed bottomless. I lowered my head, staring at the diamond dust in the bowl. Maybe it wasn’t bottomless. Maybe if I let it pour out long enough, I too would empty out.

“You think you can wipe your memories and get back the hate you once felt?” I said.

“Yes. It’s my only option. Will you help me?”

Part of me wanted to help her, but the other part stared at Mark’s shaking head. “I don’t think I’m ready to make this stone. I haven’t even learned anything here yet. I mean, this place is really nothing like I thought it might be.”

Jackie frowned and looked at the floor. “I think I’m going to be the next one to retire, if I don’t get back what I had.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. By tomorrow I’m sure you’ll be moving up to the middle classes. You can learn all about alchemy and how to make stones for these assholes. Then, if you can find it in your heart to make a simple stone for me, please let me know,” Jackie spat. She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

I put my hand on Mark’s shoulder. He studied me.

“Don’t give me that look. What’s up with your stomach?”

“It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about me.” He glanced back at the door. “These damned people want to sink their claws into you. That’s who you should be worried about.”

He told me not to be worried, but he didn’t know what his mom had told me about his condition. What had she done to keep him alive in the past? How much longer did he have? I gritted my teeth and wanted to get back to Ms. Duval and tell her Mark had regressed, and needed whatever it was she did for him.

“I can’t help but worry.” I rubbed his arm, and he shook his head with a smile.

“I think you’re going to get us into a lot of trouble in this place.”

“Well, we’ve had one hell of a first day.”

“Listen,” Mark said.

I wanted to sigh because I felt a lecture coming.

“You have a thirst to figure these stones out. I get that, but these people see you as a tool to be used. I want to be at your side no matter where they put you. If you’re in another class, you need to demand I go with you.”

“And what if they won’t listen?”

He smiled. “I have a feeling you’re going to be very popular here. They’ll do what you want, as long as you can make those stones for them.”

I chuckled at the thought of being popular … the girl who sat under the oak tree at lunch, alone. Yeah, I wasn’t not the popular type. If too many people started liking me or even worse, were fake to me, I didn’t think I could take it.

I yawned. “What time is it in this place?”

“I don’t know. I’ll walk you to your room.” Mark cupped his hand over mine and led me to the door.

We made it to the staircase, where a waiting Priscilla was standing, looking agitated. She moved away from the wall and crossed her arms. Her fingers tapped on her forearms.

“Hey, Priscilla,” I said.

“I need to talk with Allie,
alone
.” She glared at Mark.

He paused. “I’ll be right upstairs, within screaming distance, if you need me.”

I nodded and glanced at Priscilla. I was probably in for another lecture, and I searched for what I might have done wrong during the day, but there weren’t many rules to break.

“I came to fetch you.”

“What did I do?” I looked back at the door under the stairs.

She sighed. “I know you guys make stones in the back rooms, and while I frown upon such activities, it’s not the reason I’m here.” Priscilla straightened out her black jacket. “She wants to meet you.”

“Who?”

“President Verity.”

 

 

 

 

 

The spoke contained a couple of Blues on the other side of the fence, looking on with interest—probably their on-duty guards. Priscilla nodded to a Red as we walked by. I didn’t recognize the girl, but she stared at me. I gave a fast wave as we passed her. She lit up with a big smile and matched my wave.

We entered the hub, walking straight through the middle. I slowed a bit to admire the giant statue. Costas had been in there earlier for his retirement. The water, once frozen, now looked as still as bath water.

I sped up my steps to catch Priscilla. “Why does Verity want to see me?”

“You’d better put ‘president’ in that name. She’ll throw you right out of her office if she catches you doing that.”

“Okay, but what does she want?”

Priscilla stopped at the double doors and turned to me. Her eyes narrowed, trying to figure me out. “What do you know about the Academy?”

“I’ve only been here a day, and in that time I’ve learned how to mass-produce growth stones and watched a stone battle between the Reds and the Blues. Oh, and I saw some guy get retired in the globe thingy.”

Priscilla stopped and turned to face the statue. “That’s Clymene, mother of Atlas. Some of us like to believe her to be the mother of alchemy. Some thought of her as a god, but the world doesn’t like what they can’t understand, so the rubes killed her entire city.” Priscilla smiled. “Some think all of us alchemists are her descendants.”

I shook my head, looking at the statue. “So I’m a demigod who’s now kissed a relative.”

She smiled but ignored my comment. “President Verity wants you, and you’ll be respectful and compliant to whatever it is she wants. You may find yourself in the upper classes sooner rather than later.” She shoved the double doors open, stopping the barrage of questions waiting to spill out.

The doors opened to a large hallway with stone arches towering high into the ceiling. Doors flanked each side of the lengthy hall.

“Is this the teachers’ quarters?”

“Yes.”

She marched down the hall toward another set of doors. When we reached them, she placed her hand on the handle and took her time turning it. When she nudged the door open, the hinges squeaked under the belabored pace.

Just open the damned door, woman!
Finally, the never-ending process was done and Priscilla motioned for me to go in first.

The flooring transitioned to wood. My boots clicked on the surface and the sound echoed around the wood walls and ceiling. My gaze landed on a long wooden desk with President Verity sitting behind it.

The door creaked behind me and closed. Priscilla had left me, and it was kind of like landing in the principal’s office. When I had built up the courage, I looked at Verity and swallowed. Ms. Duval’s stern expression felt soft and friendly compared to Verity’s. Her thin frame accentuated her narrow face and pointy nose. Her thin black blouse clung to her, while her fashionable jacket was a size too big. Our eyes met and mine grew as silence ensued.

“It’s rude not to introduce yourself,” Verity reprimanded me.

I cleared my throat and approached her desk. “Hello, I’m Allie.” I extended my hand over the desk. Verity hesitated but took it in a rushed shake. Then she pulled a drawer out and plucked a small bottle from it, pumped a clear liquid into her hands and rubbed them together. I smelled the alcohol. It figured she’d use hand sanitizer.

As she was closing the drawer, I snuck a look at the contents inside, but didn’t see anything resembling a life stone. I fought the urge to plead with her about giving up the stone and letting me save Mark. Her expression didn’t leave any room for pleasantries, let alone charity.

“Pleasure,” she said. “I am President Verity.”

“Good to meet you.”

She sighed and stood up from her desk. “I understand you have a gift with stones.”

It didn’t feel like a question. “I guess.”

“Who is your mother?”

Taken aback by the question, I stammered, “Catherine Norton.”

“Norton.” She tapped her chin. “And that is her maiden name?”

“No, it’s Magnus.”

She stopped and stared at me, searching for my sincerity. I had never put much thought into my last name, let alone my mother’s.

“Very interesting names. Both have a long history in alchemy. You surprise me once again, Allie.” She moved in front of me and leaned against the desk. Reaching into her pocket, she fumbled around with something, her eyes narrowing as she moved closer. “Your mother is dead?”

“Yes, since I was eight.”

“And your father?”

“I … he’s in the Navy. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Practically an orphan. Do you remember anything about your mother?”

“Yeah, a few things, here and there.”

“You remember a particular Christmas, though, don’t you?”

I blinked a few times, searching for what she wanted. The last Christmas I remembered had happened a few months before my mom had died. She had sat on my bed on Christmas Eve and asked me if I could have anything in the world, what would it be? Living in Summerford, a white Christmas wasn’t possible, but I asked for one that day. She smiled and said she’d see what she could do.

The next morning, I woke to my mom and dad laughing in the backyard. I ran down the stairs and through the patio door, and slid on the icy concrete. I couldn’t believe it. Our backyard had turned into a winter playland. My mom and dad threw snow at each other. When they noticed my arrival, two snowballs hit me consecutively. I laughed and joined in.

I hadn’t thought about it until Verity asked.

“My mom used some kind of snow stone, didn’t she? She was the alchemist?”

Verity nodded and leaned back against her desk. “I hope this isn’t too difficult of a question, but how did your mother die?”

“Car accident.”

“You have more thoughts on that, don’t you?”

“I don’t like talking about my mom.” I slumped in the chair and rubbed my forehead, trying to think of any other times something unusual had happened in my childhood. It was hard to filter magic from my youthful memories, as I hadn’t been told magic didn’t exist. Everything felt magical in my foggy childhood memories.

“I’m sure she was a wonderful woman who would be proud to see where you are today.”

“I suppose.”

While Verity stared at me, I used the awkward silence to study the many paintings of ancient-looking men and women on the wall. I stopped and squinted at one I recognized. “Isaac Newton?”

“Very good. He was a man of many talents. Sadly, he didn’t have the gift. He may have been a Malki like your friend Mark, but we don’t believe he ever created a single stone.”

The jab at Mark sent me to the snippy side. “Then why display his picture?”

“The world watched him blunder in alchemy before he moved to chemistry and physics, helping produce the sciences that sent alchemy into the history books. He helped us become invisible to the world of science. But a history lesson is not why I brought you here.”

She unfolded her arms and the corners of her mouth crept back in a soft smile. “How was your first day at the Academy?”

I thought of the many horrible and awesome things I’d witnessed in one day and didn’t know how to answer the question. I had so many questions I wanted to throw back at her. Like, why couldn’t we leave? What the hell had happened to that Costas guy? But the biggest question was, where was the life stone?

“Fine, I guess.” The response was automatic, probably a trained reaction instilled in all teenagers: the simpler the answer, the better.

“I spotted you during the retirement. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“It’s a lot to take in. Is this why you wanted to see me? To talk about my day?”

She gave the slightest shake of her head. “No.” Turning, she walked to a large cabinet behind her desk and pulled a necklace over her head. A small key dangled from the chain. She took the key and slid it into the cabinet’s keyhole.

I took a few steps left to get a better view of the contents. The life stone had to be in there.

With the cabinet door open, Verity concealed her next action, but from the motions she made, it looked like she was gathering something from within the cabinet. She used her knee to close the door and when she turned around, she was holding an alchemist’s mixing bowl and a few containers.

She placed the objects on the desk and wiped her hands with a towel. “There is a curve for stone makers. When you start out, your learning and ability grow exponentially until you hit a plateau. That is where an alchemist can make their greatest work, but it comes at a cost. The more you draw from your inner self, the more you exhaust it, and the downward trend begins. I make it my personal goal to guide special students at the plateau, which is why I brought you in tonight.”

“You think I’ve plateaued?” The idea seemed incredibly insane. I wanted to scream at all these people and tell them I had no idea what I was doing.

“I don’t know, but I haven’t seen such creation of stones in a long time. It comes easily to you. Darius said you created a time stone?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I just mixed stuff together. I’m not sure what I made.” I danced around the truth. I knew what I had made because Mark and I had used it to save Bridget’s feelings. Well, mostly Mark used it. Bridget seemed so far away now. How had my world grown so big in the space of a day?

“Maybe, but what flows through you and into the mix is what differentiates an alchemist from a rube.” She set the wooden spoon in the glass bowl and twisted off the caps of the two containers.

Each container contained a vial. Verity took her time in lifting the vials from the containers, then placing them near the bowl.

“You want me to make another time stone?”

“So you
do
know what you’re doing.”

“I just remember these ingredients from Ms. Duval.”

Verity perked up at the information and I wondered if I’d shared too much.

“I wondered how she had procured the ingredients. Such things are not easily collected.” She slid the vials closer to me. “In a decade, we might make one time stone, if we’re lucky. If you can make one, it would greatly help the Academy in getting closer to understanding them.”

I sighed and could hear Mark’s comments bouncing around in my head, telling me not to help this woman. Verity’s face left little to be discussed and the impatience of my pause made parts of her face twitch.

“I can try, but like I keep telling everyone, I really don’t know what I’m doing.” Saying it aloud was like a safety blanket wrapped around a lie. Verity didn’t respond to my words. It was clear I knew exactly what I was doing, even if I didn’t understand the science behind it. I was beginning to wonder if anyone did.

I stepped up to the bowl and took the two vials. Everything in my body told me not to make this stone. My face shook in false anger and I pushed the blood to my head, hoping it gave me a red complexion. I emptied one of the vials into the bowl and steam filled the space. Verity leaned forward, staring into the mist. For a second, I thought maybe I’d still make the stone. Maybe I didn’t need any anger to make these stones.

After the mist settled, Verity took the bowl and swirled the contents.

“You failed,” she said, and narrowed her eyes. “I hope you gave it your full effort. Those ingredients were very valuable, and now they’re worthless.”

“I’m sorry,” I lied. “I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” I produced a yawn to back it up.

“Yes, well, to say I’m disappointed in you is an understatement.” She set the bowl down on the desk with a thud. “Regardless, I’m moving you to room ten,” she announced.

“What’s room ten?”

“It’s a place for the more advanced students.”

I waited for her to add more, but she sat back in her chair and gazed at me as if waiting for me to speak.

“Uh, I do have a request. Mark, the guy who came with me. I need him in room ten with me.”

“Need? Such a strong word. From what I understand, he has little innate ability and was recommended to room twenty-eight.”

“He helps me make stones. Without him, I don’t do as well.”

Other books

News Blues by Marianne Mancusi
Straight to Heaven by Michelle Scott
A New York Love Story by Cassie Rocca
Fatal Harbor by Brendan DuBois
Black Scars by Steven Alan Montano
The Last Resort by Oliver, Charlotte