by Nina Walker
“We’ll see about that,” he replied.
I smiled. “Yes, you will.”
My feet echoed a familiar rhythm on the pavement as I ran along the path. My stone necklace thumped against my chest, reassuring. The sunrise was just beginning to peek over the mountains, a small bit of warmth tickling my face. I brushed away the beads of sweat dotting my forehead and pushed on, running faster. An ache twisted deep into my side, but I ignored it for as long as I could. Eventually, I stopped to catch my breath. My throat burned, and my heartbeat raced. I wasn’t in the same shape as before being in the palace prison, but I would get it back. I was determined to come out stronger than ever.
Nathan had assured me I would be safe on the military base, so when I’d woken extra early, my body clock messed up, I’d decided to do the one thing I always did when things got weird, when I needed to think: run. But that early trust had started to wear off as I stood catching my breath and took in my surroundings.
The base was huge, expanding much wider than the tidy neighborhood where the Scott family lived. Nondescript buildings littered the area, with sprawling green lawns and several apartment buildings. I’d stopped on a bluff. On one side the glorious blue of the Pacific Ocean stretched out far below, and the mountains loomed on the other. The base was nestled in between. There were far more people out at this hour than I’d expected. Men and women were doing their morning exercises, some alone, others in units. I watched them move, their routines practiced. It was every time I crossed paths with one that my senses fired. They stared like they knew I didn’t belong, expressions a mix of curiosity and mistrust.
I shook it off, ready to head back to the house.
A group of four men jogged toward me. I glanced around. The path had cleared out except for these men with cruel eyes trained on me. Worry crept up my chest. I turned, ready to flee, and ran right into the chest of another runner. His chest was akin to a brick wall, and I fell back onto my butt. I cursed.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Watch where you’re going,” he yelled, his voice harsh and scolding. His cheeks flushed, as his muscles bulged out of his khaki shirt.
“Yeah, my fault. Sorry.” I brushed myself off and stood, wincing at the pain in my hip. If I were alone I would just use some of the grass to heal myself. But five men, much larger than me, all glared in a way that told me I’d better keep my magic to myself. But so what? Should I hide who I am? They would never understand alchemy if it was always kept hidden away like something shameful.
“You don’t belong here,” the same man said, stepping close and towering over me. “We ought to just take you out right now and get it over with.” The other four surrounded me and nodded, like it was the best idea they’d ever heard.
Not today, buddy!
I straightened and met his gaze head on. “That would be a very bad idea.”
“Nobody will know it was us. Sun’s barely out,” he said.
“I knew those men who died for you, you know that?” the youngest of the men sneered, moving in closer as he looked me up and down. He pummeled his fist into his palm. “Wasn’t worth it.”
Guilt burned, a twisting knife. The death of those men had been added to the memories that haunted me. It wasn’t my fault, I knew that. Nobody made West America come pick us up. If these guys had a problem, they should take it up with Mastin and his father; but no, they’d rather pick on the girl practically half their size. If only they knew…
“Have you ever seen an alchemist in action?” I lifted my chin in challenge. One thing I’d learned about bullies, they liked to prey on the weak.
He spat on the ground. “Of course not.”
Interesting. So, he hadn’t been to the front line yet. If he had, he’d have seen the Guardians, would have first hand knowledge of how powerful magic could be.
I lifted the necklace out from under my shirt. I knew a rainbow of stones were visible even in the dim light. “I could use yellow to beat the crap out of all five of you, by myself. Hmm, or maybe I should use purple and spy on your thoughts, tell all your friends here your deepest, darkest secret. Oh, the possibilities.” I smirked.
He rested his hand on his holster. They all had guns here. It was the first thing I’d noticed about the soldiers on base. They could kill me with a single bullet to the head. But that would make noise, and bullets could be traced.
“Who’s first?” I asked. I wasn’t bluffing anymore. If I needed to take these guys out, I would.
“Watch your back, little girl,” the guy said, pointing at me, before backing off. His buzzed hair glistened in the sun as he and his gang jogged away. I sucked in a breath before sprinting back to the house. My limbs shook, and my hip throbbed the whole way, but I pushed past the pain. Mastin stood on the front porch, hands on his hips, his glare visible from across the street.
“Why on earth would you go running alone?” He snapped, his eyes running up and down my body as I caught my breath. “And you’re limping. What happened?”
“It was nothing. I fell.” I wasn’t about to tell him the truth and prove his point. Mastin wasn’t someone who needed any more validation. I leaned down to stretch out my legs, making sure to point my butt away from him. Because, let’s be honest, that’s embarrassing.
“Just because my father says you’re safe here doesn’t mean you are,” he said, running his hand along the back of his neck. “If you want to go running, you go with me. In fact, if you want to leave this house at all, you don’t do it alone. Understood?”
My, my, aren’t we bossy in the morning?
“I was fine,” I said. “I can handle myself.”
His expression darkened, and I relented. “Fine,” I huffed, exasperated.
“Good,” he replied, his body relaxing. If you could call it relaxing. Mastin probably didn’t have the word “relaxation” in his vocabulary. “Because you and I are going on a little excursion tomorrow and I need to get you there in one piece.”
“Where?” I asked.
“You’ll find out tomorrow.” He glowered and then walked back into the house.Wait; did he seriously think I would be patient about this? I pushed through the door. “Where?” I pressed.
He turned on me then, eyes flickering across my face. I was lucky my cheeks were already red from running. The sudden urge to kiss him slammed through me, a reaction I hated and loved all at the same time. I bit my lip, weighing the possibility in my mind. How much would change between us? And what would it mean for my relationship with Tristan? I tried to think through it logically, but Mastin was too close for that. I leaned in a fraction of an inch, my lips parting.
“You need to learn some patience,” he said, eyes flicking up and down my face. Then he turned and walked away. I stood awkwardly in the dark entryway, wondering if he was talking about our trip tomorrow or about our almost-kiss.
9
Jessa
The problem with red alchemy was the blood. There was no other red that came to me, no matter how many times I tried. Stones, synthetics, plants—none of it worked. Only blood. Purple, however, wasn’t too difficult and didn’t require such a high cost as blood. It got me into this mess, maybe it could get me out.
Madame Silver and I finished our dance lesson early today, just as we had planned for the foreseeable future. We were going to do a little more than dance with the rest of our time.
“Are you ready?”
She smiled wisely, coming to stand in front of me. She put her cold hands on my shoulders, still warm from dancing, and nodded. “Whatever you need.”
“Let’s start with this.” I skipped to my jacket and found the stone that I’d put in the pocket earlier. I ran my thumb along the smooth purple and flashed it to her, so she could get a better look. “Alchemy is typically a magic where we have to touch the recipient of the magic to do anything to them, but with purple, that isn’t always the case. And I’m wondering,” I trailed off.
Madame Silver smiled tentatively and nodded for me
to continue. She didn’t fully know what she was getting into, and for that I loved her even more. Our eyes met, and her bravery steeled me. The tingle of magic found its way inside and filled me. I reached out to her first with my hand, and then with my mind.
Can you hear me? I asked.
Her hand jumped to cover her mouth, eyes wide as she nodded.
I continued, speaking to her in my mind. Try talking back to me. It’s like thinking a thought but directing that thought at me instead of just to yourself. I wasn’t sure if a non-magical person could reply but since the connection was strong, it might be possible.
This is so strange, she said. Can you hear me, Jessa?
I nodded, excitement bursting out. “Okay,” I said, breaking the magic. It washed away like sand swirling under an ocean wave. “I want to try again but this time let’s go to opposite sides of the room and turn the music on really loud.”
She flipped a switch on the stereo-system. The classical melody I’d been practicing to just minutes before blared through the room like thunder. I yelled out, “Can you hear me?”
She scrunched up her face and cupped her ear. I gave her two thumbs up and reconnected with the purple stone warming the hollow of my neck. It was an odd alchemy, like lightning as it made contact. When I directed it at Madame Silver, the magic seemed to both zap through me and settle on her at the same time.
Can you hear me? I asked the question again, this time with the telepathy weaving its path between us. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel it, could sense the way it wound around its two hosts.
She burst into spontaneous laughter, once again pressing her palms to her cheeks. When she replied, it came straight through to my mind. This is amazing. I can hear you as clearly as if I were thinking the words myself. You can hear me too, even with all this music?
Sure can.
She jumped and clapped, then steadied herself. I’d known the woman for years, but I didn’t think I’d ever seen her so excited. She was one of those people who took a while to read because she was usually so demure and classic. But not today!
I smiled and shook my head, our grins mirroring each other as she danced over to the stereo and shut off the music.
“So what’s next?” She placed one hand on her hip.
“Hmm, that’s a good question,” I said. “I don’t want to try anything that might hurt you, so red alchemy is out. I’m terrible with blue, so we could try that, though I bet it will be pointless. Yellow isn’t really something I need to work on. Orange…well, we won’t even go there.”
“What does orange do?” she asked, her eyebrows rising.
“Ha, well, it just enhances emotion,” I said. “An angry person becomes more angry, happy becomes happier, that kind of thing.”
“What about white? Black? Do those do anything?”
I bit my lip. “No.” The lie came out before I had a chance to consider the different angles. She was helping me, trusting me, so shouldn’t I trust her too? But the amount of people who knew about white alchemy I could count on one hand and I wasn’t sure she needed to know about it anyway.
Madame Silver ran her hand along her chin, her signature inquisitive pose. She always did it when solving a problem in her brilliant mind. I fought the pang of guilt knowing I’d lied to her.
Well, half-lied, as I didn’t know if black did anything.
I think we should keep working on purple together and I’ll work on the other colors alone, I said through our telepathy. I want to set a time where we can connect again, but this time you’d be outside the palace and I would be here.
She nodded and smiled wickedly. Do you think that would work?
It’s worth a shot, I continued our telepathic conversation. I’ve done it long distance before, just not that far. The memory of the purple test and the young girl I’d “saved” flashed through my mind.
Well then, let’s do it tomorrow and we can report our findings on Friday if we don’t know right away.
I pulled her into a hug, sinking into her small frame. Thank you.
As I left our lesson, a sense of hope stirred in my heart. It was the first time in weeks that emotion had found its way to that broken place. Could I trust it? Probably not, but just for today, I desperately wanted to try.
I pulled the coat around my shoulders, shivering in the cold.
“What are we doing, Lucas?”
“There’s something I want to show you,” he said.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, attempting to rub the exhaustion from my drooping eyes. It didn’t work. My vision blurred when I opened them to find Lucas’s hurt expression staring back at me. His breath fogged as he thought of what to say. Regret crawled up me, but I squashed it before it took root. Can’t let that in.
We’d spent the morning finalizing things with the wedding planner, and I’d agreed with everything Lucas had said. I’d figured that was better than voicing my true opinions on this wedding, a wedding that was only a few short weeks away.
“Please,” He tried again, concern etched in his brow. “I promise you’ll like it.”
“All right.” I nodded. He wasn’t going to back down. “Let’s go.”
“Oh, we’re not going for a walk out here,” he said with a boyish grin. “We’re leaving the palace.”
I squealed in delight, the idea of getting out of the palace instantly perking me up. He led me to the drive and soon we were climbing into one of the royal armored cars. A heavy security detail joined us both in the car and in three others. Ever since the attacks on him and his father, his security had tripled. With things so dangerous for him lately, Lucas must have gotten permission from the King for this outing. The idea set me both on edge and gave me chills.
We drove for over an hour until we had left the city and its suburbs. We took a winding road out into the surrounding forest. The snow had melted into murky piles of slush in the capitol and around the palace, losing its fresh scent and becoming ashy and putrid. But out here where it was still mostly untouched, the snow had hardened into shining sheets of white ice under the December sun.
I watched the scenery both in interest and as an excuse to ignore Lucas. I was still angry with him. Our relationship was so far beyond repair that I was doubly frustrated with his persistent efforts to mend things between us. The ballet studio, Madame Silver, my father’s close proximity, they were all bridges he was trying to build to reach me. And while they were appreciated, they didn’t matter. Not really. How could I ever forget what he’d done? I couldn’t. I wouldn’t be so naïve again. Taking him back would be the mistake of a lovesick girl, something I refused to ever be again.
After a long ride, we pulled up to a large maroon brick estate. I decided it was called an estate because the main house was enormous and had smaller outbuildings around its perimeter. It had “grounds” similar to the palace with a sprawling lawn, pastures filled with horses, and a neat garden, all frozen under the winter tundra.
“What is this place?” I asked, finally turning to Lucas in the seat next to me.
“It’s one of our royal residences,” he replied. “We have the main palace, a beach house in the southern province, and this place up here.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, stating the obvious. It really was gorgeous. But did he think he’d win me back by flaunting his wealth? By showing me what kind of life we’d be sharing together? My stomach dropped, and I sank back into the leather seat.
“It is beautiful,” he said with a knowing smile. “That’s why I convinced my parents that we didn’t need to keep it to ourselves. We rarely came up here and it has a fulltime staff, seemed such a shame to let all that beauty go to waste.”
So what is it used for now and what does it have to do with me?
We stepped out of the car, our boots crunching on the mix of gravel and ice. The cold wrapped around me like a wet blanket, and I shivered deep, pulling my coat around me. Lucas took that as an invitation to wrap his arm around me and while his warmth
was nice, I took no comfort in it.
He didn’t ring the doorbell, just pushed open the huge black door and called out, “Knock, knock, we’re here!” We stepped inside.
“Prince Lucas!” a young boy squealed and came running, socks sliding on the hardwood floor as he dashed to Lucas. Although he only had socks on his feet, he was dressed in a blue school uniform. He smiled wide, revealing gapped teeth. Lucas reached down to rub his mess of blonde curls.
“Hey there, Joey.” Lucas laughed, hugging the boy. “How’s it going, man?”
“We’ve been decorating for Christmas. Do you celebrate that at the palace? I know most people don’t anymore. You probably don’t. But Ms. Franklin does, and she said we could decorate this year. We actually got to cut down a tree. Did you know they do that at Christmas? It was so fun! I helped, I did. It’s huge. It’s in the main room. And we made strings of popcorn to wrap around it and—” The boy prattled as he led us to the sitting room. The home was old, but it was gorgeous. It reminded me of how Queen Natasha had decorated her parts of the palace, only this was the real thing; the original style.
I could easily see why she found inspiration in it. It felt safe. Welcoming.
“Prince Lucas, how have you been, dear?” An older woman padded in, her eyes shining with affection for Lucas as she pulled him into a tight embrace. “We’ve missed you around here. I know you’ve been so busy with this ghastly war business and of course, your exciting engagement, but do come visit us more often or I’ll have to travel out there and drag you back myself. You know how the children adore your visits.”
He laughed and apologized for his unusually long absence. And then he introduced me to the woman, the little boy, and a myriad of other people, a handful of adults and dozens of other children who crowded the sitting room. At first, I sat in stunned silence, realizing this was an orphanage. But it wasn’t long before I loosened up and began chatting with some of the children.