The Color Alchemist: The Complete Series

by Nina Walker

  I needed to heal, to remember.

  If I’d forgotten my wife, what else might I have forgotten?

  I needed answers. But something tugged at me, a nagging fear that had wormed its way into my mind. What if I found out the truth, and I didn’t like it? What if it was worse than being left in the dark?

  I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. My parents had better get here and explain what happened to me before I officially lost it.

  For the first time since waking up in the estate, I was allowed out of my room. I enjoyed dinner with the children, chatting idly over a hot stew, I realized it was the first moment of peace I’d had since waking into this nightmare. Apparently, the kids had been instructed not to talk about my injury or my past, because the subject stayed out of the conversation.

  That was until my favorite little boy, Joey, looped skinny arms around my neck and whispered into my ear. “I really hope Jessa is okay. We miss her.”

  Then he scampered off, leaving me, once again, feeling like everyone was in on the secret but me.

  “Are you finished with that?” a staff member asked over my shoulder, motioning to my empty bowl. I licked my lips, the warm broth settling comfortably in my stomach, and nodded.

  She reached to take it, and when I stopped her, her busied expression flushed. “It’s okay,” I said. “I can help clean up.”

  “Oh, we couldn’t ask that,” she replied, brushing a long strand of gray hair out of her face.

  I stared into her weary blue eyes for a moment and smiled. “Really, it’s okay. I’ve been bedridden for days and need to move my legs anyway. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “Are you sure?” Her mouth set as she frowned, brushing sturdy hands on her apron. This woman, no matter her age, was used to doing her job well and keeping out of trouble.

  “You see that doctor over there?” I pointed to the man seated with the nurse on the other end of the table. They were also finishing their meals, leaning close and whispering—probably about me.

  She nodded.

  “He’s going to make me go back to bed at the first opportunity. This is my first time out of that stuffy room and I want to make it last as long as I can.” I stood from my chair, picking up the mess and stacking it with the other bowls around me. “Please, let me help.”

  She chuckled low and shrugged. “You did this last time you were here, you know? Always such a chivalrous boy.”

  I paused. “Last time?” I wracked my brain, trying to remember the exact moment she was talking about. It had been a while since I'd shared a meal with the orphans. But then Joey had made it sound like he knew Jessa personally…

  She clammed up. “Oh shoot, I messed that one up.”

  I eyed her with interest as her round face turned as red as a tomato. “Wait, last time? Was I here recently?”

  She eyed the doctor for a moment and muttered under her breath. “You were here with your lovely fiancé not less than a month ago.”

  I stilled. “You’ve met Jessa? Tell me, what’s she like?"

  She smiled softly. “Kind.”

  I took in the room, trying to imagine us here, trying to make the connection. The furnishings were solid oak, made to handle years of use. The walls had landscape paintings on each, except for the far wall where children’s artwork was featured, rows upon rows of imagination brought to life. But the aroma of hearty broth, the laughter and chatter, and the clinking sound of spoon-scraped bowls being stacked atop each other, didn’t spark memories of Jessa. She was like a ghost that everyone else had seen, but I only knew the story.

  “Oh, you two were so adorable. I really hope they find her soon,” she whispered, eyes hopeful but mouth carefully relaxed.

  I gulped, letting out a defeated sigh. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember her.”

  “Dearest me, I’ve said too much.” She scampered off to take care of cleaning up the younger children.

  A sense of disorientation whipped through me, unsettling any comfort I had previously felt. Apparently, my wife was missing?

  As I moved about the room, helping with the clean-up, my mind tried fruitlessly to remember Jessa. Who was she, really? And how had she gotten into my head like that? The way she had just spoken in my mind, was I going crazy? Or was it the kind of rare and powerful alchemy, the kind I knew was possible, but that I had never experienced? An offshoot of purple, telepathic magic was something some people would kill to have, and others would do anything to keep hidden. If that was what Jessa was doing, if that was how she got in my mind, then which kind of alchemist was she? The kind who boasted her ability, or the kind who hid it among her deepest secrets?

  As I considered the questions, I found my body growing tired. Irritated, I returned to my bedroom and plopped down on the comforter, resigned to end one of the most confusing days of my life. Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe if I got some rest, all of this would heal faster, the memories would return, and with it, the answers.

  One knock boomed off the door before it swung open and my father strolled into the room. I sat upright, relief washing through me the moment our eyes met.

  “Son!” he exclaimed, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around me in a tight grip. His familiar smell of soap and spice calmed me further. “I’m so glad to hear you’ve had some of your memories return. I came as soon as the doctor called.”

  I hugged him back, though the question bothered me. “Why didn’t you come when I first woke up?”

  He stepped back. “I’m sorry. Things are … complicated.”

  I raised a brow. “I’ve been awake for days, living in this bizarre stupor and nobody will tell me anything. I can’t take it. What happened to me?”

  His face stilled, and I stood to meet his expression. A long moment stretched between us.

  He finally relaxed, jaw releasing, shoulders drooping, and energy falling. “Why don’t you tell me everything you think happened and I can fill in the gaps?”

  I ran a hand through my hair, stopping at the back of my head where the headache persisted. If only it were that easy. His steel eyes zeroed in on me, more intense than I ever remembered, and something deep within me faltered. “I don’t know; that’s the problem. I don’t remember anything from the last year of my life.”

  He squinted. “Are you sure? They said you asked about Jessa.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to get into it. If he knew I’d been hearing voices, it was likely I’d be stuck out here in no-man’s land even longer. Which brought me to my next question. “Why am I here? Why aren’t I in the palace or at least in the capital city? This isn’t exactly the height of civilization.”

  He sighed and found the chair by the window. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched him carefully, waiting for the truth. He ran his hands through his hair, and I noticed how he’d aged considerably. His hair had become grayer, his wrinkles deeper, his eyes more sunken in, and he’d lost weight. Was he okay?

  “A lot has happened, Son. I don’t even know where to start.”

  “I guess, start with Mom. Where is she?” Even as I asked the question, a bubble of fear welled up inside me.

  His eyes shot to mine, anguish filling his features instantly. “Your mother is dead. She was murdered. It happened five months ago.”

  I blinked, my body made of ice. “What?” I sputtered in disbelief.

  He nodded solemnly. “It’s a long story, but we believe she was murdered by West America. And by the way, we are currently at war with them.”

  I shook my head. War? We weren’t a kingdom of war. New Colony had spent the better part of a century avoiding it at all costs.

  “West America also tried to take you out,” my father continued. “That’s why you’re here. We’re hiding you. As of right now, the world believes you to be dead.”

  “That’s how I got my injury? They did this to me?” Again, I reached to the back of my head, fingers running over my skull.

  “I wish I knew all the details. I do know
that someone has been trying to assassinate you ever since your mother’s death. This time, they very nearly succeeded. We found you on the edge of death. Luckily our alchemists could heal the wounds, but nobody could help your brain. You were in a coma for a few weeks before you woke up; even still, your memories of the last year may be permanently erased.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not a good thing.”

  Something in his face twitched. Did he agree? Finally, he nodded and cleared his throat. “Which brings me to my next point.”

  “Jessa?” I needed to know more about this mystery woman who had infiltrated my thoughts.

  He nodded. “We need to talk about your wife. It’s time you learned the truth about why that girl really married you.”

  My legs ached to run. I longed to feel the endorphins rush through my body, longed to hear my heartbeat instead of the million questions that rolled in my head. But everything else in my body told me to take it easy; I wasn’t fully healed yet. Sure, on the outside I looked as healthy as ever, but the headaches still plagued me, a constant reminder of my lost memories.

  I groaned and continued on my walk around the orphanage grounds. The snow had melted, leaving pools of mud. It caked my shoes, but I wasn’t bothered. At least I was outside, where the air was crisp and refreshing, where I could breathe, where the sun could warm my face and I could try to piece my life back together without Richard standing over my shoulder.

  He hadn’t left my side in three days, constantly quizzing me on my past. This behavior was exactly why he and I were usually at odds. He was just so demanding, his presence so consuming that it took away from everyone else. If anything was going to help my headaches, it was getting away from him.

  Lucas? The voice shot through my mind.

  Her voice.

  Lucas, are you there? It’s me.

  I stopped midstride and put my hands on my waist, huffing into the blue sky above. My breath spread before me, like smoke billowing into the cold air. If only I could see this girl too, then maybe I could decide for myself what she really meant to me.

  Jessa, I replied. Yeah, I’m here. It was strange, that I didn't have to audibly talk and yet we could have a whole conversation. But then again, maybe it shouldn’t have been strange, considering who she was.

  You’re using magic to do this, right? I continued. My father told me you’re an alchemist, which explains how you’re able to get into my head. But he never mentioned that you had this particular talent.

  Did you tell him about this? Lucas, he can’t know! Her voice came through the connection, sharp and fearful.

  I paused, considering the implications. You're afraid of him, aren’t you?

  As I should be! she rushed, her words all jumbling together. He hasn’t followed through on his threat to take me to the frontline, but I know it’s only a matter of time.

  That’s probably because he’s here checking up on me.

  Where’s here? Lucas, where are you?

  I’m somewhere where I hopefully won’t be assassinated. You ask a lot of questions.

  And you aren't really answering any of them. She quieted for a while, long enough that I wondered if she’d severed the connection. Finally, her voice came through as a soft surrender. Do you remember me yet?

  I squinted into the horizon, studying the empty landscape but for a few trees.

  I sighed. That is a question I can answer. No, I don't remember you. Not even a little bit.

  There was a long silence before a simple, Oh, filtered through my head.

  Sorry. I squeezed my hands into fists, exasperated. I don’t know what happened to me, how I got this head injury, but I think maybe you can enlighten me.

  What is that supposed to mean? she bit back.

  The pain was returning to the back of my head, but I pressed on.

  You were the last one to see me before whatever happened to me. Richard thinks it's possible that you were the one who did this to me. That you tried to kill me.

  I would never! I love you.

  I scoffed. Really? If that’s true, then why are you with the Resistance?

  Yes, Richard had told me all about this Resistance group trying to undermine everything he was doing, making it harder for us to win this war against West America. It was bad enough to have one major enemy, but to have another one working within our very borders? They needed to be stopped. Even I knew that!

  Your dad is trying to turn you against me. Don’t let him, she begged.

  Are you denying it?

  Another long pause. Finally, she let out a sharp, No.

  I huffed. So why would a Resistance spy marry the prince to the kingdom she's trying to take down? Sounds a whole lot like treason if you ask me. I laughed again. And I'm supposed to believe you love me? Pick a story.

  If you could remember the last year, you’d know I’m telling the truth.

  It’s all very convenient for you, Jessa. And tell me again where you were when I hit my head?

  You got me out of the palace before that ever happened! You sent me away to protect me!

  I couldn’t believe this woman. Her story was so twisted, and Richard’s was a clear, logical line. Who did she expect me to believe? He was my father, and yes, he was intense and incredibly persistent when he wanted to get his way. He wasn’t the best dad or husband, and at times he drove me mad with frustration. He could be cold-hearted, and he could be oblivious to people who weren’t on his radar. But was he evil? Was he the tyrant Jessa thought he was? I didn’t think so.

  I’m almost healed, I continued. And when I can convince my father to let me out of hiding, I’m going to come with him to interrogate you. You’re part of the Resistance, you’ve already admitted it. You were with me the night I hit my head. They found me in the Guardian wing, Jessa! You’re an alchemist! What do you expect me to think? If anyone knows what happened to me, it’s probably you.

  You’re making a huge mistake!

  And I intend to find out whatever dirty little secrets you’ve been keeping from my family, I finished with an angry sneer.

  Maybe you should look in the mirror! You were Resistance before I ever was.

  I froze, caught off guard, but only for a moment. I highly doubt that.

  It’s true, she snapped. You were the one who convinced me to keep my red alchemy a secret from your father for as long as I could. You were the one who wanted us to get married in the first place. You made a bargain with your father, so he would allow it. And in the end, it was you who snuck me out of the palace after our wedding. You knew your father was about to figure everything out and wanted to protect me.

  Why would I be Resistance? I’m the prince!

  Because you found out the truth about your father. He’s a bad man, Lucas. He’s done terrible things and you didn’t want anything to do with his legacy.

  Bad how? What aren’t you telling me?

  You say you can’t trust me, but how can I know if I can trust you? Apparently, you’re right back in his pocket.

  I took a deep breath and let it out with an angry growl. You can’t trust me, I finally said. It was the truth. I didn’t know anything about this girl, had no memory of ever meeting her, let alone wanting to marry her or doing the things she’d claimed.

  Perfect. Her tone was angry now. I get captured coming back to try and help you and now I have nobody I can trust. Not even you.

  Something deep inside tugged at me but I refused to let her manipulations sway my opinion. I also wouldn’t let my father do the same. I needed to figure out the truth all on my own.

  Maybe you should stop talking to me like this.

  Fine by me. And by the way, maybe you should check yourself before you blab all your secrets to your father. You might not be able to remember it, but there are good reasons why you hate him.

  I’d never been best friends with my dad or anything like that, but hate? That was a big word.

  I’ll figure it out on my own.

  Good. I also hope yo
u figure out if you love me or not while you’re at it. It’d be nice to know if I still have a husband.

  I didn’t reply. What was there left to say? I pushed the connection away. Screw it! I ran. The pain in my head exploded with the effort but I ignored it, instead clinging to the exhilarating feel of movement in my body. This was freedom.

  Jessa and I were married. So what? I didn’t remember making any vows. She was Resistance, a traitor, and had no place in my life, at least not while I figured things out. If it came down to it, if I learned the truth and it didn’t include real love, I would find a way to end our marriage. My father had already suggested the idea; he said we could play it either way, though his preference was a quick annulment. I wasn’t convinced either way.

  First, I needed to persuade him to let me go back into society. Right now, the world thought I was a dead man. Maybe it was better that way. I didn’t know. But I figured if I was going to get answers, we probably needed to start with the truth.

  No more hiding.

  6

  Sasha

  “Come back with me,” Christopher said for what was probably the fifth time in the last few days.

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  Dad frowned, tugging awkwardly on the sleeves of his smudged white shirt, but nodding. He did know. In fact, he understood better than most. I actually thought, given the opportunity, he would’ve chosen to stay and fight, too. But Lacey and Mom were safe on the other side of the country and he needed to be with them. They’d been separated for too long.

  “Promise me, if given the chance, you’ll help Jessa?” His expression was torn with regret. This had to be an impossible choice for him, having his family spread out and one of his daughters missing.

  “You don’t even have to ask,” I said. “If the girl wasn’t so stubborn she’d be the one you’d want going back with you, not me.”

  His face fell, the shadows under his eyes appearing darker. “Don’t say that.”

  “I know,” I replied. But did I?