Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2) (21 page)

With his mouth hanging open, the creature’s long tongue slithered out and rested on the dirt floor. A dark mass inside the appendage started pushing its way against the membrane of the tongue. It was the fisherboy.

Chapter 18
The Gold Medallion

A commotion grew louder and louder as Stanley and Availia approached the doorway at the end of the passage. The smell of melting paraffin drifted by Stanley’s nose and he could see two shadows flickering against the wall.

“What do you want to do?” whispered Availia.

Stanley held his hand behind him to tell Availia to stay put. He turned and held his fingers up to his lips. She nodded, agreeing to stay silent, listen in on the conversation and gather any information on Loka Tattur’s whereabouts.

“Shut up, Brenen! You Regal Seas alchemists have always had a weak disposition — you’re too soft,” hissed a voice.

“Is this really what the Order wants? Is it in our best interests to be dealing with the likes of Xivon?!” asked a panicked voice, who Stanley and Availia both assumed to be Brenen. “It wasn’t agreed upon!” he added disconcertedly, with his voice quivering.

“Are you saying you want out?” spat the first voice. “If you thought it was dangerous becoming a member of the Order … you should see how dangerous it can be getting out.”

An answer did not come right away as the two shadows that flickered against the passage wall stood motionless.

Brenen finally heaved a deep sigh. “I didn’t say anything of the sort — at the same time, though … there are thirteen members in the Order for a
reason
. We vote … and there was no vote on this matter! Does this come from the leader of the Alchemist Order? I mean … I don’t even know who the leader of the Order is, or why he feels his identity must be concealed — not even sure
he
knows who sanctioned …
this
,” stated Brenen intently, now fully realizing he was arguing a moot point.

Suddenly a low moan came echoing from the distance, from beyond the two shadows. Stanley and Availia quickly shot each other a look, as the whimper of pain sounded like their missing Mitan.

“I DID — I sanctioned this … and it’s all you need to know,” said the first voice coldly. The talking suddenly stopped and one of the shadows took a step back. “What’s with your cloak, Brenen … you preparing to fight me?” he asked deviously. “I’m fine with running you through — and you know an alchemy cloak won’t stop me.”

Brenen’s shadow backed up frantically. “What do you mean, Williams? I didn’t….”

Availia, in shock, saw that Stanley had stopped watching the shadows conversing and was nonchalantly walking through the doorway. “Wait a minute … Stanley!” she whispered frantically.

Stanley walked right up to the two arguing alchemists and quickly caught the attention of Williams, a cloaked man wearing a gold medallion. Williams drew a sword from his waist and his alchemy cloak hardened, taking on a scaly texture.

“Where’s Loka Tattur?” asked Stanley calmly.

Williams quickly pointed his sword at Brenen. “Who’s
he?
Did
you
bring him here?” he snarled, ignoring Stanley’s question.

Availia rushed through the doorway, sword drawn. An elongated table, with six chairs on each side and a thirteenth chair at one end, stood to her left. The other end of the table came to a point, much like the tip of a sword.

Williams eyeballed the second intruder and pointed his sword from one target to the next.

“I’ve never seen them before!” exclaimed Brenen, taking several steps back in an attempt to remove himself from the confrontation.

Stanley cleared his throat and politely continued his line of questioning. “You two are working with Xivon, then?”

Brenen quickly spoke up. “I wasn’t … I’d never work with—”

“Shut it, Brenen! Only a couple of brats here — but just to be on the safe side….” Williams sneered. He pulled the gold medallion from his neck and placed it on the flat side of his sword. The medallion melted into a fluid that was easily absorbed into the blade, turning it gold. “Not sure
how
you brats got in here, but in a moment … you’ll wish you hadn’t,” he growled.

He lunged toward Stanley and thrust his sword into the boy’s chest. It easily penetrated the hardened alchemy jacket worn by Edison’s student and came out the other side. Brenen winced and Availia’s attempt to block the strike was too late. Her mouth hung agape at the merciless assault.

“Stanley?” she whispered in shock as she covered her gasp with her free hand.

Stanley, who had not yet drawn his sword, reached forward and grabbed the scale-armored alchemist’s sword hand, holding it into place. “
Where…
is Loka Tattur?” asked Stanley again, politely.

Williams’ face contorted in disbelief. “What the—” He regripped his sword as the event replayed through his mind. “What sort of alchemy…?”

Suddenly a loud
THUNK
came from behind Williams. His eyes crossed and rolled back into his head as he fell backward on the floor, revealing the source of the
thunk
. Lawrence Brenen was holding a silver vase he had grabbed from an end table. The sword which was still piercing Stanley shed its gold plating — it melted, pooling near the handle. It re-formed into a medallion and hit the floor with a
CLANK
.

Stanley grabbed the handle of the sword and plucked it from his chest. The metal scraped as it pulled past his jacket’s armored exterior. He carefully placed it on the elongated table and, out of habit, stuck his finger through the hole in his jacket. “I rather liked this jacket,” he said as his garment relaxed, becoming less rigid. He concentrated for a moment and the two holes on the front and back efficiently repaired themselves. He looked at Brenen who was standing in shock, still holding the vase in his hand. “That was kind of harsh, wasn’t it?” asked Stanley plainly.

“Thought he was gonna kill you — he’s quite dangerous. I mean … you’re just children,” he stammered. “What kind of alchemist are you, anyway?”

“Stone Sanctuary,” answered Availia, putting her sword away.

“Sss … stone … um … yeah. My name is Lawrence … Lawrence Brenen — glad you showed up.” He adjusted his fancy hat as small, rigid spikes dissipated into the fabric of his alchemy cloak. “When I heard the Order might have something to do with the kidnapping, I thought to confront him … Williams, that is,” he added nervously. “Please know that I had nothing to do with this. Regal Seas alchemists are quite respectful of others. I’d never—”

“I know the reputation of Regal Seas,” said Stanley with a smile. He leaned down and picked up the gold medallion, studied it for a moment, and shoved it in his pocket. He then put his hands behind his back and got the conversation back on topic. “Would you be so kind as to point us in the direction of Loka Tattur?”

Brenan nodded and pointed through the doorway.

Stanley and Availia stepped over the unconscious alchemist that lay on the floor and started for the doorway on the opposite side of the room. Stanley suddenly turned. “If you would like to make up for being in the wrong place at the wrong time — you can take this man to Tirguard and hand him over to the proper authorities.”

Lawrence nodded and tipped his hat. “Yes, I will do that — without his medallion, he’s harmless.”

Chapter 19
The Lake Hunter

Water rolled off the back of the giant drake. He stretched his wings out wide while more water dripped onto the cavern floor. Satisfied, the dragon folded his wings alongside his back. The creature’s black scales glinted with light that reflected from the lake overhead, casting a greenish blue hue. His long claws broke through the surface of the ground as they dug into rock and dirt. The drake’s scale-armored jaw hung open, exposing long rows of bone-white razors that Ethan assumed were a dragon’s version of teeth. The blue tint of the tongue squished and slithered as the figure inside took form. The fisherboy stood up inside the tongue and smiled devilishly.

“My master says he has you now. He protects this place and you have broken his rules. You are now in his domain,” giggled the fisherboy. “Just as the djinn — you now belong to him. I think he would have you dead … just my guess.”

Ethan and Auren looked at each other and then back at the door they had come through. Ethan knew it would be difficult to escape back to the double doors. ‘It’s a long way to go when a dragon is chasing you,’ he thought to himself.

“The Lake Hunter’s … a
dragon?
” stuttered Auren.

“Yeah — seems so,” answered Ethan, in shock.

“Would have been nice for Father to mention that,” griped Auren, not breaking eye contact with the drake.

“Didn’t you read about this in that book of yours?!” exclaimed Ethan as he stared into the dragon’s enraged yellow eyes.

“Didn’t get to that part yet!”

“You will, of course, be eaten now,” added the fisherboy.

“RUN!” yelled Ethan in a panic.

They both turned and sprinted toward the door. The dragon’s chest heaved as it let out a horrible
ROAR
. It lunged forward and extended its claws, tripping Auren and knocking Ethan off balance. Ethan looked around desperately as he regained his footing. He saw a crevice in the wall of the cavern that was very close by. He darted inside with a shout to Auren, who scrambled after him. They both pushed their way through the tight crevice until the gap widened slightly, giving Ethan just enough room to maneuver.

“What do we do?” asked Auren, discouraged.

“Dunno — why was your father telling stories about poking the Lake Hunter with a stick? Did he know it was a
dragon?!
” grumbled Ethan.

“Did
Odin
know it was a dragon?” argued Auren.

“Maybe they only saw the tongue.” Ethan pulled a miracle torch from his pack and lit it. He looked around the fissure and discovered there was no way out. He wedged his way in as far as he could; Auren forced himself over, until he was crammed right next to the Orobori. “Who knows for sure — wonder how long we can hold—”

“I see you went into the crevice … he wanted you to go in the crevice,” taunted the fisherboy, slithering up right next to Auren. “He has killed so many that have hid inside the crevice — you can’t get out … there’s nowhere to go but in his belly. That’s where they all go — those who fall into his traps. But do not worry; I will keep you company on your way down.” The miracle torch’s flame glimmered on the boy’s face as he menacingly closed the distance to Auren.

The Faryndon boy desperately reached for his sword, but there was not enough room for him to pull it from his scabbard, as his hand hit the wall. He turned sideways but it was too late; the fisherboy latched onto him. The sticky tongue stuck to Auren’s side. Ethan reached for his friend, but he was ripped from the crevice — out of Ethan’s sight.

“NO!” yelled Ethan as he pushed his way back to the tight entrance to see if he could reclaim his friend. The Orobori was instantly confronted with scales and claws, so he retreated back into the fissure. Ethan stayed just out of reach from the dragon, but remained close enough to see the eventual fate of Auren Faryndon.

Auren, who was stuck to the dragon’s tongue, was jerked wildly through the air as it flailed about. Auren gasped as he was draped over the bottomless pit. At first he tried to escape the sticky tongue of the Lake Hunter, but now he found himself clinging to it for dear life as he stared fearfully into the deep abyss.

“HELP … ETHAN!” pleaded Auren desperately. “ETHAN WRIGHT!”

The drake’s tongue unexpectedly released Auren, causing him to tumble through the air as he fell. To Auren’s delight, he hit the ground. At the same time, he winced in pain as the wind was knocked from his lungs.

“Auren! Hold on! I’ll figure something out!” echoed Ethan’s voice from inside the wall of the cavern.

The dragon swiftly put its front paws over Auren’s torso, pinning him to the ground. Auren’s alchemy jacket reacted and kept some of the drake’s weight off his chest. He tried to pull his sword, but it was no use; even the strongest boy of his age could not lift a claw of the giant drake.

The fisherboy slithered up next to Auren and gave him a look of disbelief. He continued on past the Faryndon boy, dragging the mucus-ridden tongue behind him. The blue-tinted appendage trailed over Auren’s face, leaving a sticky coating of mucus all over him.

“Ah … YUCK!” he complained as he moved his face to one side to try and avoid the slime.

The fisherboy headed toward the crevice, walking very slowly, as if playing a game orchestrated by the Lake Hunter. He poked his head inside the crevice to look for the drake’s prey. “Hello in there … you want me to come in and get you? We have your friend — don’t you want to come and see him?”

Ethan tucked himself as far in as he could. He turned the miracle torch as high as it would go, aiming it toward the crevice’s exit. He started rifling through his pack for the map, hoping he could shield himself from the blistering heat of the fire sword. He knew it would be risky pulling it out in such a tight space, but felt he had little choice.

The fisherboy slowly proceeded into the crevice with his hands up in front of him. “You…,” said the fisherboy, surprised, “you are, in fact … Ethan, aren’t you? Ethan Wright, the Orobori?” He could see Ethan’s face, flickering with the shimmer of the torchlight.

“Yeah — is this part of your game as well? What … you want to get to know me now?” snapped Ethan as he continued to dig through his pack.

Suddenly a great deep voice came from outside the crevice. “BOY — GET HIM OUT HERE, NOW!” The booming voice terrified Ethan as he fumbled around in his pack, still frantically looking for the map.

“No, dragon … I will no longer be under your control. This experience was a significant part of my maturity, but has ended for me now,” replied the fisherboy precisely.

Ethan was shocked by what the boy had said. “Wait, you mean … you’re not going to let him … um, eat me?”