Arbiter's Word (Alchemist's Fire Book 1)

by Ogden Fairfax

  “Or, in more romantic times, when arranging marriages between the old noble families.” Peters added with a flirtatious smile. “But that's not what I'm here for. I'm offering my recipe book in exchange for an exclusivity contract. You sell your gold only to me or members of my court. You'll have access to every potion, magic tool, and so on that I know, including the elixir of life.”

  I stared at her for a bit before replying. “That seems like the deal is really skewed in my favor. You're a more powerful alchemist that I am. You know way more than I do. What's one more dude making gold for you?”

  “Chance, you heard about Marshal Blake's death, correct?”

  “CEO. Leader of Phlegmatics.”

  “Yes. You see, in the wake of his death, members of the Phlegmatic court have seized on the opportunity to jockey for power now that the old dynasty is dead. You are a Phlegmatic alchemist, are you not?”

  “I think that's what Amber said.”

  “Ah, good. I'm glad your sprite is proving useful. So if you know you are a phlegmatic alchemist, you know that your breed is gifted with unparalleled use of basic transmutation?”

  “It costs more for alchemists to make stuff than it takes me.” I said.

  “Exactly. And in a world where Phlegmatic alchemists are in short supply, and in danger of setting back gold production to a level we haven't fallen to since the dark ages, I'm eager to secure myself a source of dense matter for my own protection.”

  “Your goons don't count for that?” I asked. This time, Amber actually snorted slightly, then excused herself in an attempt to claim it as a sneeze and not mocking her queen.

  “My men are useful, but not for all tasks. For some things, I need a delicate touch that I don't trust anyone but myself to apply.”

  “What's the catch for the exclusivity, then? Monthly quota?”

  “Something like that. You provided me with close to twenty-five pounds of gold at our first meeting. Do you think you can do that each week?” I resisted the urge to look at the osmium, was was a fair bit more dense than gold.

  “I suppose I'm capable of that if I agreed.” I shrugged.

  “I'm sensing there's something else you want.” she stated. “If you like, I'm willing to open up other avenues of negotiation.” Peters shifted in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs in a motion that drew my eyes up the smooth and alluring lines of her figure. Sure, she was older than me by centuries, but my eyes and hormones had a hard time caring.”

  “Information.” I asked. “I want to know who sent the golem to attack me.”

  “Agreed. If you promise to sell your gold to my court alone, for a fair market value, of course, then I will give you my recipe book and investigate who sent the golem.” Peters put her hands on the couch, making even the simple furniture look regal with her in it. I tore my eyes away from the queen of ice, stone, and earth to look at Amber. Her eyes glanced down and to the side for a brief moment before she gave me the tiniest of nods.

  I took a deep breath and uncrossed my arms. Peters lithely stood and extended a hand to shake mine. “Do we have a deal?”

  “We have a deal.” I said. My gold for your knowledge on alchemy and my attacker.”

  “Excellent. I certainly hope you will not come to regret this decision, Chance. I will do my best to see that you are well-compensated for your work.” I took Peters' hand in mine and shook it. I felt her palm two ice-cold coins into my hand. Then she surprised me by leaning forward and standing on the toes of her shoes to plant a kiss on my cheek.

  “I will have your mystery solved within a month.” She whispered into my ear from an intimate distance. “But I hope we meet again before then, Chance. Call me when your friend wakes up.”

  “What?” I said. “What do you mean?”

  Peters was already halfway through my apartment door before turning back and speaking over her shoulder. “Medical miracles happen every day, dear.” And with that, she was out the door and gone.

  “Well, that could have gone worse.” Amber spoke as she flopped onto the floor, huffing out a breath in relief.

  “How? I work for the ice queen of the midwest now, and for all I know she's just going to say she can't figure out who sent the golem.”

  “Yeah, but you could have slept with her and made this really awkward.”

  24

  Amber and I spent the night and most of the next day going over more of her lessons. I was eager to see what kinds of things Peters' recipe book coin thing had unlocked for me, but Amber insisted I had to focus on the basics and get better and more efficient at the fundamantals before I tried anything fancy.

  “We don't want you tearing that tiny brain of yours in half just to make a magic burrito.” She said. “Here's another booklet.”

  “More useless costumes?” I asked, almost able to feel the oncoming headache.

  “No, small models and stuff. Instead of making parts and building it, I want you to focus on mentally forming the parts already assembled. Each model is more complex than the last. Solid matter chunks are easy, even if gold takes a lot of energy. It's moving parts you need to tackle next.

  And so that's how it went, me making everything from a lego man to a working scale replica of an A10 Warthog jet complete with tiny autocannon. Amber would check over each object, inspecting all the moving parts and making sure I didn't just summon a solid chunk of something in the right shape. I had worried that she would want to take the plane for a spin, but she waved me off.

  “Flying is for pixie attention-whores and skanky cloud nymphs. I'm fine on the ground. I'm more into tanks anyway.” I watched as she climbed out of the tiny cockpit of the fighter craft wearing a flight suit that she'd insisted was necessary for testing the plane. I was relieved that she hadn't started the engines or used the gun once she'd decided they were working models. For my part, I had a migrane that went from my scalp to my tailbone, and I was ready for some leftover pizza for dinner.

  As I walked to the fridge, Amber spoke up.

  “We're out of pizza.” she said.

  “What? How? I only ate two pieces yesterday and my eyes are literally bigger than your stomach right now.”

  “Tiny form has higher metabolism.” she said. “And besides, I've been using lots more Azoth than usual to conjure books to teach you. So I wound up either eating or 'zothifying it all.”

  “All right, I'll order another one.” I said, annoyed. It felt kind of like when someone takes a bite of my food without asking, like Grace sometimes did, but I let it go. Amber was helping me, and she shouldn't have to suffer for it.

  I'd gotten pretty good at turning water into Osmium or other dense matter by this point, so I was standing at the sink just filling it up and turning the water into small dense marbles when the delivery driver came. It was the same kid as yesterday, and I was thankful he didn't make a comment about me ordering food for two days in a row. Amber had gone into the bathroom to shower and I was pretty sure I would take one after we ate. I was in the middle of opening my wallet to get some cash when my phone rang. The ringtone was “flight of the bumblebees,” and I knew that could only be Grace's grandma.

  “Hello?” I said, propping the phone between my shoulder and my ear.

  “Sugar, she's awake and asking for you.” Bee said through sniffles. “Can you come by?”

  “I'll be right there.” I quickly hung up and handed the kid at my door a few bills. “Keep the change, I gotta go.” He handed me the pizza and I tossed it onto my kitchen table since it was close to the door.

  “Thanks, man!” The pizza kid said and scurried out the door before I could see I'd handed him three fifties. I rushed to the bathroom where Amber was and called through the door.

  “That was Bee, Grace is awake.” Amber opened the door and I could see she was full-sized again and back in her “super professional” mode. We sprinted to my car and I'm pretty sure I broke every speed limit between my place and the hospital.

  “Chance, it's okay to sl
ow down,” Amber put a hand on my arm.

  “Nope. I promised. 'fast as I can.'” I quoted. “I physically can't make myself slow down unless we're about to crash.”

  “You're so hopeless,” Amber grinned and then finally buckled her seatbelt before grabbing on to the “oh shit” handle above her window.

  I rocketed through traffic and made it to the hospital in record time. I tossed my keys to Amber so she could handle the parking slip while I dove out of the car and sprinted once again to the elevators, then to the stairwell when I wasn't lucky enough for an elevator to be waiting at my level. I was stopped by someone at the reception desk, and I guessed the promise I'd made to Grace allowed me to avoid getting tackled by security.

  “I'm here to see Grace Jones, Can I have a visitor badge, please?” I said breathlessly. The perturbed older gentleman handed me a card on a lanyard and directed me on how to reach her room. She wasn't in the ICU anymore, and I skidded to a halt when I got to her room. Fire welled up in my guts when I saw Peters standing near Bee, talking with her and holding a clipboard. She was in her work attire like the first time I saw her, and even her blonde hair was less “driven snow” and more “wheat and honey” like then too. She strode out of the room, giving me a wink as she walked past me. I didn't care, because a second later I had rounded the corner to see Grace.

  She was still bruised, but the swelling had definitely gone down. The gauze that was around her head was gone too, I smiled like an idiot when I saw her look at me with her good eye.

  “Chance?” she asked,

  “Hey, Grace. I'm glad you're awake.” I said as I pulled up a seat and sat next to her.

  “Did you meet my doctor? You just missed her.” she said.

  “Doctor Peters? Uh, yeah, we've met. How are you feeling?”

  “I have a headache, but they're letting me have ice cream, and I'm not even dying.” She said. Her words were slurred and dreamy, and I looked for an IV or some source of painkillers but I couldn't see one.

  “I'm glad you're feeling better. I was so worried.” I said, grasping her hand.

  Grace smiled and squeezed my hand back.

  “Do you remember what happened?”

  “No.” she said, her smile faltering. “The doctor said that's common, and that my memories might come back with time.”

  I nodded, understanding her words, but knowing in my heart that Dr. Peters was somehow at fault for Grace's memory loss. If she could heal someone injured so quickly with magic, why couldn't she restore her memory?

  “What's the last thing you remember?” I asked. “If it's not a strain.”

  “I remember you got a rock at the gem shop.”

  “Yeah, you've taken all your tests for school since then, so you lucked out.” I said.

  “What's wrong?” Grace asked as I heard Amber walk in behind me.

  “Grace, it's good to see you.” Amber said with a smile. “It's been hard torturing Chance by myself.”

  Grace looked confusedly at Amber. “Have we met?”

  “We met last Sunday.” Amber said.

  “I don't remember,” Grace said. “I'm sorry.” The revelation clearly troubled her.

  “It's okay, Grace, don't stress about it right now. Just focus on feeling better. Can I get you anything?” I asked, fighting my own panic and just wanting to be there for Grace.

  “I'm okay. Really. I think I just need some rest.” I nodded and Grace sat back in her hospital bed. She shut her eyes and lay there a moment. It was only then that I noticed the look on Bee's face. She looked like she's just seen a ghost. I started to ask her if she was okay, but she silenced me with a hand.

  “Just wait, sugar. Watch.”

  Grace lay in bed for a moment before blinking her good eye and sitting up.

  “Chance?” she called my name “Where's Chance?”

  “Grace I'm right here, are you in pain?”

  “I have a headache, but they're giving me ice cream.” she said in exactly the same tone as before.

  “She's been like this for a half-hour.” Bee said. “Every few minutes, naptime, then she calls your name and it starts all over. Sometimes it's a little longer or shorter.”

  “What--, How?”

  “The doctor called it anterograde memory impairment. She says it might get better or worse. We just have to wait and see. That was the longest one yet.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand as I watched Grace look bewildered for a moment before laying her head back down on the pillow.

  “Um,” I said, “Fuck, I don't know what to do.” I felt my panic start to overwhelm me, and Amber stepped over to touch my arm.

  “Just take a deep breath. Try to keep calm for Grace.” Bee never took her eyes off the girl in the bed, the girl I'd confessed my feelings for just days ago.

  “Chance, breathe.” Amber echoed Nana Bee. “We've got lots of time to be worried, let's not do it here.” I nodded at her words and reached out to Grace's hand as she took in a breath to call out my name.

  “Um, Bee, I...I want to help, I've recently switched jobs and I've got extra space in my budget. Whatever doctors or meds she needs, I'm covering.” I squeezed Grace's hand and tried not to burst into tears when she smiled at me again. “We're going to get through this,” I said. “All of us.”

  “I'm fine, Chance. When did you get here?”

  “Did the doctor say when she'd be back?” I asked Bee.

  “She was finishing for the day, but she said she'd be in contact.” said Bee.

  “Perfect.” I said, but I probably didn't look like I meant it. I turned to Amber. “Can you tell me if the thing from last weekend is still going on? The coin thing?” I tried hinting at getting Amber to use her glasses to see if she could detect anything going on.

  “Let me see,” she said, pulling out the glasses and briefly looking through them at Grace before using them to magnify a pocket notepad. “Still on, nothing's changed.”

  “Coin thing?” Bee asked.

  “Something Grace and I talked about before all this happened. I wanted to see if there was a way to sort of jog her memory.”

  “Chance, it's best not to try to force these things, you're only going to make Grace's recovery harder.” Bee said, “I know your heart's in the right place, and this scares me too, sugar, but the best thing we can do now is pray and have faith in all his workers.”

  I nodded, feeling tears roll down my cheek. “You're right, Bee. You're right, I just hate feeling like I can't fix things.”

  “You've always been that way, sugar,” Bee smiled. “I know you'd move a mountain for us if you could.”

  “Stone by stone if I have to.” I said.

  “Chance,” Amber said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Grace had just fallen back to sleep. “We should go before she wakes up again.”

  “I can't just leave her like this,” I said. “It's not fair.”

  “It's not fair to you either to torture yourself like this.” Bee said. It's okay to go. I'll call you again if anything changes. Amber pulled more insistently at my shoulder until I stood up.

  “I love you, Grace. I'm so sorry.”

  Amber and I left as quickly as I could manage, but I was still close enough to hear her calling my name in the hallway.

  25

  On our way to the parking garage, I saw Peters sitting in the hospital cafeteria. I didn't see her goons anywhere, but even if I had I think I would have still lost it the way I did.

  “Chance, no, wait,” Amber tried to hold my arm but I looked her in the eyes.

  “Let go of me right now.” I said. She released her grip instantly.

  Free of any further obstacles, I walked right up to Dr. Peters. I was so angry and I knew I had no good way to deal with it right this moment. So I pushed it down, just like my Azoth masked my fear, I made my own anger quiet until I had a proper setting to let it explode. Almost gently, I pulled the chair out from across Peters' spot at the table and sat down. A terrified Amber followed and too
k the seat next to me.

  “What. Did. You. Do.” I demanded.

  “I healed your friend, or started the process.” Peters bit into a curly fry.

  “You expect me to believe with all of your posturing that you couldn't have done better?”

  “Actually, yes. She suffered an incredible injury, and if I did too much, she'd just be brain dead and not have any life in her eyes. But you're also right that there's more to this. Call this insurance to make sure I get at least my minimum needs met. For every week's worth of work you give me, Grace's memory will improve by three hours. Once she's caught up, she'll be right as rain. But every day she doesn't receive supplemental doses of the elixir I gave her, she will begin to regress by about the same amount.”

  “If you wanted a large delivery right away, why didn't you just say so when you came to my place? Why play these games?”

  “Chance, my dear boy, I've been around long enough to know that men like you, even men much smarter than you, are never content to partake in the established order of things. Most alchemists are found when they are young and more open to the way things are, it's the adults who discover power later in life that need a firmer hand. But I also like you. You have potential, and a talent that's in short supply right now. That's why I'm offering you options here. You can go the regular route and work against the clock to give me what I'm demanding. You'll pay a cost in time and she'll get time in return. You also have the choice to let your silly mortal crush go and moving on to a much better and brigher future.”

  “You're asking me to do something impossible. She's lost three days of memory, and it takes me longer than three hours to do that work. By the time I get it done, all her progress will be lost.” I couldn't even wrap my head around how much I'd have to push myself to make even a little progress. I kept hearing Grace's near-panicked tone as she called my name, and knew full well she'd probably gone through the cycle at least a few more times since I'd left her room.

  “Of course, that's why the other option is much simpler. Let the mortal go. Is it because she's pretty? I can assure you, Chance, there are plenty of fine young ladies who would love vying for the attention of a man with your skill. Phlegmatics are the rarest kind of us, after all.”