by Nina Walker
Again.
At least he saw the value in allowing me to tend to the wounded. That was one area where my alchemy was making a huge difference. But if only I could be in the middle of the battle, I could save more lives. I’d tried to argue the fact, and even added the idea of letting me join the fight so I could lend others my yellow alchemy.
Nathan Scott had shot that down immediately.
He said it was too untested and should only be used as a last resort. He also made me promise not to tell any others about the ability. His failure to see the advantage was totally foolish, but I could argue with him all day and he wouldn’t see my point. I wasn’t desperate enough to use magical means of persuasion.
“Sasha.” Mastin nudged me. “Are you ready?”
I groaned. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied with a huff, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of my face. I ran my hands down my black clothing, stretchy jeans and cotton top with a zip-up. My necklace of stones rested underneath it all, steady against my skin. It was nothing compared to the combat gear the Guardians wore, but considering West America didn’t have black uniforms, I was happy to make my own.
Making my own way in life was kind of my thing, anyway.
Mastin turned the deadbolt, opened the steel door, and ushered me inside. My eyes lingered on an older gentleman, pegging him to be in his mid-fifties. Of course he had been stripped of his alchemy gear, now wearing the light gray prison suit. He looked up at me with challenging hazel eyes, the overhead light reflecting off his bald scalp.
I hate this part.
The business of interrogation made me wonder if I was any better than King Richard, Faulk, and all the minions who’d tortured me. The roles were reversed now, but did that make it okay?
Probably not. I knew how this went. I would try my best; he wouldn’t budge, his loyalty steadfast in the King. So, I’d go and the American interrogators would get to work, a work much more effective than mine. And also, much more brutish.
“I’m here to help you.” I smiled softly at the man as I strode into the room, taking position a few feet away from him. Mastin stood with crossed arms and a lethal expression at the door, my protector should I need him.
The man’s focus returned to the floor, mouth twisted in something like defeat. He stayed hunched in the corner of the room, on top of the threadbare mattress on the floor. His elbows rested on his knees, not seeming to care one bit that I was attempting to start a conversation.
If only I could use magic and somehow make him talk. But no, that would be a huge mistake. Nobody here needed to know about that ability. Once they found out about red, they would turn from tolerating me to locking me up.
I held up my hands and slowly inched into the room. “I don’t know if you recognize me—”
“I recognize you.” His face shot up, eyebrows drawn in. “I know exactly who you are, should have known it when you came back but you’d changed so much.”
“What are you talking about?” I narrowed my eyes, trying to place him.
“I remember you as a child, had you in my class back then.”
I raked my memory, searching through all the teachers I’d had back then, but came up short. Trying to sort through the past was like trying to sort through the rubble of a burned down building. There wasn’t much left, and what was there, was tainted.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to sound as friendly and kind as possible. “It was a tough time for me, I actually blocked a lot of those memories, I think.”
“And I know what you can do,” he continued, grumbly voice growing sharp with every accusatory word. “So I know there’s no use in fighting you.”
Anxiety rolled through me. If this man had been one of my teachers, that meant he knew about the red alchemy. Magic I’d suppressed when I was still a kid, leaving it far in my past, underneath all that burned rubble. I hadn’t dug it up, and I wasn’t planning to now.
But if this man told interrogators about my secret, what would they do with that information? What would happen to me?
“Go ahead, just get it over with,” the man said sharply.
I retreated, pressing my back against the cool wall, blinking rapidly, and pushing down my memories. But it was no use. They flooded me, drowned me with what I’d done.
I was so young then, and the King was testing the boundaries of magic—namely, my boundaries. I’d been used to interrogate people, to control people, and ultimately, to kill them.
I shook my head. “No,” I muttered, clearing my throat. “No,” I said louder. “That’s not why I’m here. I come in peace, as a friend.”
The man’s eyes bulged with contempt as he slowly stood to full height. He towered over me, yellow teeth bared, and cracked his knuckles. “You’re no friend of mine.”
Mastin came to stand behind me, anger rolling off him, but I held up my hand to stop him from intervening any more than he had to. This was my fight, and if I could pull it off, there wouldn’t be a fight whatsoever.
“Really,” I said, turning back to the captured alchemist. “This is your chance to cooperate. You should. If you don’t, they’re going to use whatever means possible to get what information they can from you. This way, you won’t have to suffer.”
His eyes narrowed, the lines of his face lifting and stretching with the move. “And help them?” He spat on the floor, right at my feet. “Never.”
“But don’t you see? King Richard will stop at nothing until he has ultimate power. He doesn’t care who he hurts in the process, he’s—”
“Foolish, traitorous child!” he yelled. “King Richard is a visionary. He is taking back what is rightfully ours, restoring alchemy to full power across the world. I will never betray him.”
And then he lunged, knocking me to the floor. I landed on my back, the wind rushing from my lungs. I pushed back, a frenzied scramble to get him off. Thin, tight hands gripped at my throat, and at first I thought he was trying to choke me, but then I realized he was looking for my stones. I beat him to it, connecting with the yellow. It pulsed through me and I threw the man off, slamming him against the far wall.
Mastin was there in an instant, throwing him onto his stomach and wrestling him so that his arms were wrenched behind his back. Then Mastin cocked his gun and aimed it at the man’s sweat-shined head.
“She was just trying to help you,” Mastin growled. “Move an inch and I’ll kill you myself.”
The man lay frozen, eyes facing me, burning as they glowered at me like I was the lowest form of filth he’d ever seen.
Mastin looked up at me, running panicked eyes up and down my body. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” I replied as I stood.
I wasn’t upset about being attacked so much as I was upset that these alchemists coming in were so blinded by their adoration of Richard and New Colony. How could they not see what was plainly before them?
“When I get back,” Mastin spat toward the man, “you will pay for daring to touch her.”
Then he tucked me under his arm and led me from the room.
“Didn’t go so well, did it?” The general strode down the hallway, eyeing the room we’d just exited with the raise of a thick eyebrow. “Sasha, why don’t you go back to your bunk and take a rest? You’ve been through a lot with these people over the last week. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
His “these people” comment bothered me, but I bit my tongue and let it slide. “I’d like to stay and help. Maybe I can try again after the interrogators see him.” What I didn’t add was that I also wanted to make sure this man didn’t tell the others about my red alchemy. The very idea of diving back into that sordid magic made my skin crawl.
Nathan Scott frowned, studying me for a long minute. “You really do need to take a break. I’m sorry, but this isn’t a suggestion, it’s an order.”
He was used to giving orders. And he was used to people following them. But I, on the other hand, wasn’t.
I opene
d my mouth to challenge him, no longer caring about holding back, but Mastin stepped in between us, resting his hand on my shoulder.
“I’ll come find you soon as I can and debrief you on everything. Will that work?" He held my elbow and stared earnestly into my eyes, pleading with me to back down.
“Fine,” I grumbled, spinning on my heel. As I did, the exhaustion overpowered me, making my eyes burn. Maybe they saw something in me before I did, and Nathan Scott really was just looking out for me. Maybe I was reading too much into things because of the lack of sleep and I shouldn’t be so annoyed.
The prison was in its own building, separate from the others. It was small, with a series of rooms on either side of a long hallway that turned at a 90-degree angle down the middle. At the far end was the exit, where I was headed. I turned the corner, out of sight from the men, and a tingling of suspicion caused me to slow. Before long, that tingling grew, forcing me to stop.
Don’t be foolish. Why would they be so eager to send you away? You’ve been tired plenty of times and they didn’t say a word. Maybe there really is something going on here, something they don’t want you to know about.
I bristled, hating the idea that Mastin was keeping something from me. But despite my desire to trust him, I had to know. There wasn’t time to stand around and debate it. I had to take action.
I drew the blue alchemy around me, knowing it would quiet any sound I made. Nobody would hear my breathing or footsteps. I wasn’t as lucky as Lucas to have white alchemy to become invisible, but this was the next best thing, and I needed to take it. I needed to be smart, to be brave, and stop being so naïve.
The blue magic swirled around my body, then settled over me like a glove.
I relaxed and listened to a conversation happening just around the corner.
“What happened in there?” Nathan Scott asked his son.
“The man isn’t willing to cooperate with us. Big surprise.” Mastin’s reply dripped in sarcasm.
“How dangerous do you think he is? Did he tell her anything?”
“No, he didn’t. But aren’t they all dangerous?”
Nathan let out a sharp laugh. “That’s true.”
I ground my teeth, trying not to be bothered by the flash of annoyance. Because really, they were right. We were dangerous. Case in point, I was listening in on their private conversation, and they had no idea I was there. Thank you, alchemy!
I pressed myself harder against the wall, not that it would really help anything if someone saw me, but it made me feel a little bit better than standing right in the open.
“How many more rooms do we have?” Mastin asked. “These alchemists that are filling up our prison are not exactly easy to keep under lock and key.”
“We have enough for now. And if we need to make more, then we will. But keeping them in does worry me. Because what happens if they break out?”
It was a question I’d been afraid to ask myself.
“Are we going to bring in Weapon X?” Mastin lowered his voice.
The conversation paused, silence filling the hall for a long moment. “I think we are going to have to, and probably soon. I already got permission from Madam President.”
“Sasha won’t like it.”
My body prickled at the sound of my name, senses kicking in.
“What did we talk about, son?" Nathan Scott was gentle in his scolding. But nonetheless, even I knew the sound of a scolding father when I heard it. “You cannot let this girl, no matter your feelings for her, get in the way of what we’re doing here.”
“I’m not. I won’t.”
“You are a soldier first.”
“I know,” he replied boldly. “I’m saying that we’re going to have to find a way to tell her about it, at least prep her for the blow.”
The blow? What the hell was Weapon X?
Nathan’s voice came out firm and commanding, “Under no circumstances are you to tell her anything about it. It’s a State secret, and something above your rank, need I remind you?”
There was another long pause. I waited for Mastin to argue, but I also questioned if he would. He wasn’t the type to argue with his father, not only because he was his parent, but because he was his ranking General. And this wasn’t about fathers and sons anymore, not to a man like Mastin.
General Scott was right. Mastin Scott was first and foremost, and would always be, a loyal soldier.
“Yes, Sir,” Mastin replied in a steady voice.
“Maybe you need to take a break too.” General Scott sighed. “This has been a lot for you, too.”
Another “Yes, Sir" quickly followed.
Mastin’s boots clapping on the concrete floor echoed through the hall, heading right toward the corner where I was hiding. Any second, he would round it and see me standing here like a lunatic.
That wasn’t going to happen.
The yellow magic zapped through me like electricity, the blue still there, an undercurrent of silence. I ran from the building at lightning speed, bursting out the door before Mastin even turned the corner. Immediately, I released the magic and slowed to a steady pace toward the barracks where my bunk waited for me; where those men had sent me away!
Clenching and unclenching my fists, I fumed at this new revelation. They were hiding secrets from me! Secrets that had to do with alchemy, I was sure of that. And I was also sure Mastin wasn’t going to clue me in. As close as we’d become, and as much as we cared for each other, those secrets between us weren’t going anywhere.
It’s not as if you don’t have your own secrets. You have your red alchemy!
Yes, and he had knowledge of this mystery weapon.
As I continued down the path, dodging the soldiers in my way, glaring at the shanty buildings of the base, ignoring the cold biting at my cheeks, I found myself not heading back to my room, but to Tristan's quarters. I missed him.
He was allowed to participate in the battles, and because of that he’d quickly become one with the military men. He was trained, he was smart, and he was able-bodied. Not to mention loyal to a fault. Of course, they loved him. I hated that I wasn’t able to go along, but I checked up on him after each and every battle. He was always okay.
But I wanted more than okay. Tristan was still my friend, he always would be. But he was colder toward me now that he knew Mastin and I were an item, less likely to joke around or even smile in my direction, but I realized I couldn’t expect to have it both ways, and at least he still talked to me, still let me care about him.
I stood outside the building where he was likely hanging out and took a steadying breath. I was bunked with the women across the way, and every time I went into the men’s area, I had to be on my guard. There were still plenty of soldiers who didn’t like me, some who even wished me dead. I saw the way they watched me with their calculating eyes, felt their whispers behind my back. They put up with me because of Nathan Scott’s strict orders, but for most of them, that was the only reason.
The men’s barracks were practically overflowing the last time I was here, but as I walked in this time, there were fewer occupied bunks.
That wasn’t a good sign during wartime.
I found him on his lower bunk; one in a long row of rudimentary metal and plywood structures, complete with thin mattresses and canvas sleeping bags. His nose was deep into a novel and he didn’t seem to notice me standing over him.
I smiled and spoke low, “Tristan, I need to talk to you in private.”
He dropped the novel to his chest and gave me an exasperated look, mouth downturned and eyes twinkling, but the second he caught the seriousness in my expression, he threw the book aside and nodded once.
“Let’s go on a walk.” He stood and led the way from the room.
A military base in wartime wasn’t exactly open for anyone to walk anywhere they pleased, but despite that obstacle, we’d figured out where we were and weren’t allowed to roam. As we maneuvered through the metal buildings and the gravel and dirt pathways,
we walked close together, shoulders brushing, and kept quiet. There was so much unsaid between us, and the air was thick with untold confessions.
“Have you ever heard of Weapon X?” I asked, peering up at him.
He shook his head.
“I hadn’t either, until today. I overheard Mastin and his father talking about it in regards to the alchemists imprisoned here.”
Tristan laughed, a low rumble that made me feel nostalgic. “You overheard them or you eavesdropped?”
“Shut up!” I shoved my elbow into his ribcage.
He smirked. “That’s what I thought.” He didn’t say more, and for that I was grateful. It would’ve been the perfect opportunity to question my relationship with Mastin. Girlfriends were supposed to trust their boyfriends, not spy on them.
“What do you think it is?” he asked. Our boots crunched against the gravel as we dodged passersby. One particularly ugly guy gave us a deadly glare, his lip curled in disgust, hand perched on the gun in his belt, before continuing on his way up the path. I glared at his retreating form.
“I don’t know but I don’t like the sound of it,” I whispered, turning back to Tristan. “Mastin seemed to think that it would not make me happy. He wanted me to know about it and his father told him that I was not to be told anything.”
Tristan folded his arms and nodded. “Poor guy.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“He is stuck between you and everything else he cares about.” He shrugged, looking away. “That can’t be easy.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way and I certainly hadn’t expected Tristan to defend my new boyfriend. Well, maybe he was my boyfriend. It was stupid to define it when we all had better things to worry about. Despite that, I found myself fighting a mix of annoyed frustration and clawing jealousy, and then mentally kicking myself for being such an idiotic girl when who I dated should be the least of my worries.
“Whatever,” I grumbled as we turned a new corner and kept walking up the path wedged between two silver buildings. “We need to figure out what the weapon is and why they’re bringing it here. That’s the other thing. General Scott said something about the president giving him permission to move the weapon here.”