The Fake Heart (Time Alchemist Series) (7 page)

It was like my heart was trying to rip my chest open and jump out. I clutched the fabric of my jacket, wishing my heart would stop hurting so I could think rationally! Why hasn’t anyone come to check on me? Didn’t they hear this entire ruckus?!
No
, I thought bitterly, surprising
myself
,
Everybody’s probably at that girl Mallory’s little party.
With
Jack
.

“Who—” I gasped out, but it sounded like a dying breath. A horrible sharp stab like a knife cut in my chest every time I spoke, “Who are you?! Get
out
—!”

The girl rubbed her red chin, sending a small, irritating glare in my direction. Oh yeah, sure, glare at the girl whose room you broke into! Gee,
sorry
about almost breaking your chin!  She sat up, almost in…slow motion, but stayed where she was near the edge of the bed.

“Li….
sten
…”

Strange.
Her mouth was moving so slow, and her words were being slurred. Did I really butt heads with her that hard? I squinted my eyes as I saw her stretch her hand out at me—but it was so slow, like watching a video of a car crash slowing down so you can see every little detail
of the accident. She looked as if she were moving through
clear
syrup, and I wondered, as my heart pounded inside me with such force it felt like it was bruising my chest, if the pain killers that Nurse Alexandra had leant me had a serious side effect of hallucinations.

Because why else would some strange, slow moving girl be in my room? Then…whoa…everything started to tilt—

TICK
.
TICK
.
TICK
.

◊◊◊◊◊

I was lying on the carpet again, except this time the strange girl wasn’t holding me down—she was hugging me. She was even stroking the spot where her chin and my head had collided. It was awfully comforting.

“Calm down,” she said softly, “You need to calm down. Your
alchemy
is already too much for you to handle. If you don’t calm down your
fake heart
will—”

But I couldn’t really concentrate on her words. The only thing I could think of was my mother comforting me like this when I was three, rocking me gently in Grandmother’s wicker chair as I drifted off to sleep, safe and sound away from any kind of scary monsters and pain. It was almost like I could still smell her vanilla scented soap and hear the lulling rhythm of her heartbeat.

It was so calming. I could feel the pains in my chest subside with every long, drawn and ragged breath I took as the girl continued to hold me. My vision slowly came back to place, and then it was like the world went at normal speed again—like a rubber band being stretched, and stretched until it finally snapped into place.

◊◊◊◊◊

“Who are you? How did you get in here? And
what the heck is going on
?”

The blonde fiddled with the metal tab of the can of pop I had hesitantly offered to her earlier before stating, “You mustn’t
shout so much. It’ll hurt your…damaged
heart.”

I sighed; pressing my own cold can against my cheek in annoyance. Come to think of it, the more irritated I got, my heart did start to throb just a little bit. As the
girl kept messing with the
can (did she not know how to just pop the tab off?), I took that moment to really study her.

Even with the scrapes and bits of dirt and blooming bruises on her face and skin, she still was very model-
esqe
. Her hair really was such a light blonde that in some lights it almost looked white. Her crystal blue eyes were locked in concentration at the task at hand (really…opening a can of
pop
), but I couldn’t help but notice the pal
e red markings
on her hands, so light they looked like veins. They circled all around her hands and up her wrist, and then started to fade near the edge of her black sweater that had been rolled up to her elbows. They looked like something out of an occult book or a movie.

The constant
click-clicking
of her messing with the tab finally got on my nerves. I stormed over to my bed, snatched it up and cracked it open for her before stomping back over to my computer desk chair. It creaked under my weight.

“Thank you,” she said, locking her eyes with mine. She didn’t once take a sip. “Have you calmed down, yet?”

“I would be much calmer if you
start
would explain
ing
things to me!” I said, slamming down my own unopened drink on the oak desk.

“You need to calm down,” she said again with
eerie patience
, “Your fake heart will—”

“And what’s with this ‘fake heart’ stuff?” I demanded, gripping the edge of the chair. My hands were trembling uncontrollably and that ache in my chest was rising again. “Answer my questions, or I’m calling
for security
!” I shot up from the chair like it was a hot coal and started over towards the door. I should have run from the start. Why was I letting this trespasser sitting on my bed and drinking my pop trying to pry some damn answers out of her when I should have just made a run for it in the first place!

“Dove.”

My hand froze over the knob. A wave of nausea hit me at that name.

“You shouldn’t have done this,
Dove.
None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me.”

I heard the bed creak slightly as the girl got up, “That is my name,” she said, “Dove
Raysburg
. I am eighteen years old…and I am—or was—a Blood Alchemist.”

I turned to her, but her back was facing me. She stared out the half open window, in the direction of the church. She didn’t move from her spot, even when I walked over, making sure to keep a bit of distance between us.

“I suppose it’s time I answered your questions,” she said slowly, shifting her gaze from the outside to me. With a swift motion she jumped
up
to sit on
the window sill, kicking the blue polka dot pillow I had meticulously placed there my first day here onto the musty floor. I refused to break eye contact as I bent over to retrieve it, clutching it as I slowly settled back down onto my desk chair.

“Where do I even start?” I asked, biting my lip, “What…what are you?”

“I am an alchemist,” the girl—no, Dove—repe
ated
, fumbling with the edge of her cotton sweater hem, “No, I
was
an alchemist. Not anymore.”

“Alchemist?” my jaw dropped, “You mean like….magic and tur
ning metal into gold and stuff?
”

“Basically yes,” she replied serenely, and I shut my gaping mouth, “Although it’s against our laws to turn metals into gold or silver.”

“I—wait, ‘our’ laws? Does that mean there are more of…you?” I asked flabbergasted, but then remembere
d the boy from this morning
. Was he an alchemist too? “You…this morning you made weapons come out of your hands! Was that your…alchemy too?”

Dove nodded, her short hair shuffling against her neck in swift motions. Without the strange symbols on her arms, she could really pull of being a model. She did look like the type of girl that would even put a snooty girl like Mallory Wells to shame in the looks department.

Dove really did have the air of someone elegant and graceful. Like royalty.

“Why are you so surprised?” she asked, “Alchemist
s
do exist in this day and age, we just aren’t as prominent as we used to be.”

I got up from my chair again and started to pace the room. My jacket had long been hung up on the back of the desk chair, but it was still unbearably sweltering in this tiny room. “No, no, no,” I rambled, “This isn’t real. Alchemy is just…magic! It’s not an actual science! Things like that just don’t happen!
I—ugh!”

Damn! The pain in my chest was increasing again!

“You need to calm down,” Dove said for the umpteenth time this past hour, yet she didn’t tackle me to the ground this time. She remained in her spot on the window sill, playing with the
aluminum blue and red can. “I’ve already said it before, but I am serious. If you panic too much, or get severely agitated, that fake heart of yours will break.”

Despite my inner protests, I bite my tongue, forcing myself to take four deep, deep breaths. My heart slowly calmed again. I placed a hand to my chest, feeling the gentle beats beneath my skin. “What do you mean by a ‘fake heart’?”

“I had to do it,” Dove said nonchalantly, turning away from me. She leaned her forehead against the window pane before continuing, “It’s against the law to revive someone from the dead, but—”

“Wait!” I shouted, “So that means none of that was a dream? All of those fighting and weapons were real? And I really—” I gulped, feeling a stone of dread form in my stomach, “I really did…die?”

Dove turned towards me, and I finally saw the reason why she had avoided my gaze in the first place—there were tears threatening to spill in the corner of her eyes.

“It was my entire fault,” she said, her voice shaking, “It was my fault an outsider got involved. I couldn’t just sit there and let you die, so…” another pause, “So I used all of my own power to stop your time.”

“Stop my…time?” I repeated each word slowly, but it wasn’t sinking in. None of this conversation was really sinking into my head, but…this was real. This girl was sitting in my dorm room; there was a horrible ache in my chest where I was stabbed.

This was all real.

“Yes. I
‘
traded
’
my alchemy to halt your time and repair the hole in your heart.” She got up and padded toward me, until we were nearly eye to eye. Up close we were almost the exact height, except she was just a few centimeters taller than me. She placed her i
ndex finger right over my heart.
“As of now, your time has completely stopped. Your death has been halted—as are you. You can’t grow or age, but you aren’t immortal. In exchange for that, you now have the power of alchemy inside you. To put it shortly: I’ve awakened your own alchemic core.”

My head was spinning again, but not from panic. No, it was more like…confusion mixed with a weird, tingly feeling that this was all bigger than I could imagine.

“What’s
your name?” Dove asked, tilting her head to the side as she retracted the pressure off my chest.

I took a step back before answering, “Emery. Is everything you’re telling me true? Did all of that fighting in the woods really happen? Did I really, um, almost die? Am I
an
….alchemist?”

She nodded, her eyes filled with a solemn gaze. “Yes. You’re an alchemist now, Emery. And we don’t have much time before
your
time
officially runs out.”

◊◊◊◊◊

Somewhere across the hallway I could hear the muffled voices and giggles of girls, as well as the rhythmic beats of a stereo being played at full blast. Outside
,
the sky was giving off a deep reddish glow. There were even a few stars scattered up above, and I just realized how fast the day had gone by.
Well, technically I was comatose the whole day, but still.

A low gurgling sound came from my stomach. How could I even be hungry at a time like this? Even though it was so tempting to reach into the mini fridge next to my desk and rummage through, I couldn’t move from the hard spot of the old wooden chair, which was starting to make my butt go numb.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” I asked, feeling my hand tremble over my, um, fake heart. “I thought you said my time had stopped?”

“It has,” she explained; once again back on the window sill. This time, however, she had shut the window and drawn the curtains. But despite that I could still make out all of her details through the light filtering through the thin curtains.  I clicked the desk lamp on, casting a warm orange glow over the room as she continued, “But I’m not a healer.
Far from it.
I stopped your time, but
there’s no telling how long you
really have before my own alchemy wears off.”

“But didn’t you say you, uh ‘exchanged’ your alchemy to stop my time?”

“Yes, but it’s not really the same. It’s…complicated. I had to trade a power that is equal to stopping time—which was my alchemy. But even though your time has stopped, not only has your life been saved, but you’ve also got my powers within you. So, with enough training, you can become a great alchemist if—”

“Whoa!” I shouted, raising my arms up, “Who said anything about me training to be an alchemist?”

She stared at me like
I
was the crazy one who barged into her room and started shouting about the process of magic and stuff.