The Alchemist: Dawn of Destiny

by L. A. Wasielewski

  “But how exactly did you know our location?” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist. “Dreaming about me is all well and good, but as a tactician I’m always interested in how my enemy knows my secrets.”

  Roann licked his lips and inched closer, his voice lowering to a husky growl. “I know you’ve seen it. In my bedroom.”

  Kaia decided to play dumb, even though she knew he was referring to the witching stone. “Seen what?”

  “Don’t play me for a fool. You know exactly what that glittering gem on my bureau is for.”

  She tried not to panic, hoping against hope he had no idea she possessed one. Because if he knew, and he found it, he would have a direct link with Phia.

  Roann stared at her. “It comes from your time. Surely your father had one as a royal accoutrement. Those stones were used by the nobility as a show of wealth, although few knew what they were capable of.”

  “He had one, yes. But I never thought it did anything.” A wave of relief washed over her. She kept up her naïve play, hopeful he’d educate her.

  “What a pity. It allows me to see things others can’t, to experience a different plane of existence.”

  Kaia hung on his words, feigning pure interest. But what Roann didn’t know was she couldn’t care less about his metaphysical manifestations. She let him continue.

  “Perhaps someday, if you’ll let me, I’ll show you the gem’s power firsthand.” He leaned forward and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She shifted uncomfortably at his touch. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Kaia. We can do great things together if you cooperate.”

  She sat back, her tongue getting the better of her as she bit back at him. “Great things like murdering your subjects? No thank you.”

  “I’m very confident you’ll have a change of heart.” The emperor sighed deeply and pulled a gold watch from his pocket. “I’ve got to go, love. An emperor’s duty never stops.”

  “Duty? I thought your duty ended the moment your citizens died in the square.”

  “Your cheekiness knows no bounds, and I absolutely adore that about you—no matter how much you think you’re insulting me.” Roann stood. “Please, stay out here and eat your fill. Perhaps you’ll be able to once I’m gone, for I think I’m quite a distraction, am I not?”

  “You are distracting…”

  “I hope you understand I can’t have you snooping around the palace by yourself?”

  Kaia cocked her head, a hurt tone to her voice. “You don’t trust me?”

  “Not in the least. But…” He motioned to the apartments. “You’ll have free reign of my quarters. I don’t have anything to hide. Read from the library, take a nice warm bath. A set of freshly laundered clothes is laid out on the bed. There’s enough food here to last you for days, and if you’d like to partake, I have a full liquor cabinet in the den.”

  “You do remember that I’m a prisoner, right?”

  “Hardly.” He leaned down and took her hand in his, kissing his lips lightly to her skin. “I look forward to continuing our conversation tonight over dinner. I trust you’ll be here when I get back?”

  “I don’t have a choice, now do I?”

  “Oh but you do. Play nice and you’ll get more privileges. Be uncooperative…” His eyes took on a sinister look for a fleeting moment, almost undetectable. Kaia was just glad they had stayed green. “Be a good girl while I’m gone.”

  He took his leave from the balcony, and Kaia heard a door close and lock a moment later. She sighed and hoped Ryris, Grildi, and Jaric were alright. Feeling very guilty about being pampered while they languished in a dungeon, she had to tell herself they were going to get out of this—somehow. If she didn’t allow herself hope, she’d wither and die.

  Deciding to take Roann up on his offer, she finished her juice, grabbed a slice of melon and padded into the bathroom. If he wanted her to take a bath, then she would—and she’d use up all of his fancy shampoo.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Torture can be a valuable tool, if utilized in a proper manner. But one must not be too quick to invite death to the arena. Your subject may beg for it, however.

  --Excerpt from torture master’s notes to a young apprentice, date unknown

  “Everyone please be seated so we can start.”

  The town hall was full, with bodies crammed into every available space. The elderly and infirm took the first seats, the remainder of the citizens filling in behind them. Those who weren’t able to nab a chair stood along the side walls. Babies bounced on their parents’ knees, the children sat obliviously in the corner with a pile of toys. A fire blazed within the hearth, frost built up on the windowpanes. The crowd mingled with one another as they tried to figure out why the mayor had called the meeting.

  The burly man who led the town appeared from a side door and walked out of his office, fingers nervously tapping together as he refused to look at the audience. He tried to calm his breathing, fearful of his residents’ reaction to the terrible news he was about to bestow upon them.

  “I know you all saw the carrier bird arrive this afternoon, and I’m sure you’re eager to hear the news it brought.” Blackthorne’s mayor tried to keep his voice calm. His forehead was covered in beads of sweat, and not from the inferno’s heat in the fireplace. He blew out a long breath as he dabbed his neck with a handkerchief. “We’ve received troubling news.”

  The townsfolk murmured nervously, husbands holding their wives close. An elderly man gripped the pommel of his cane tightly, his knuckles turning white. As their faces turned concerned, the mayor fought to keep his composure. “If only I could keep them oblivious,” he thought. “Their lives are so peaceful and devoid of sorrow. How quickly things change.”

  “I don’t know how to say what I need to say, so I’ll just come out with it. Keld…” He felt vomit threaten to rise in his throat, not believing the words that were about to escape his lips. “…has been wiped clean. The citizens are dead. Killed…by the emperor and another man.”

  Cries rang out from the people, unwilling to accept what had just been told to them. The mayor saw the sheer disbelief on his residents’ faces, and wished he could wake up from this bad dream. All eyes shifted to the old alchemist in the corner, expressions laced with concern and condolences.

  Maxxald Bren immediately spoke up to ease their fears. “He wasn’t there. He’s…travelling indefinitely with his friends.”

  A man stood in the back, cradling a baby to his chest in a linen wrap. “What do you mean, ‘wiped clean’? Surely it’s a mistake.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not, Xan.”

  “But how? I find it hard to believe that the entire population of a city can just disappear.”

  “They didn’t disappear.” The mayor hung his head for a moment before making eye contact with his citizens once more. “The people of Keld were lured into the city square under false pretenses and slaughtered. The emperor seems to be in league with another man—by the name of Lyrax. Apparently a great wave of energy mowed the citizens down in their tracks. This information is coming by third party, as only a few survivors were able to escape the city after the massacre.”

  “Then how can we believe it’s true? You said so yourself, it’s hearsay.” The man with the baby furrowed his eyebrows.

  “Would you like to go to Keld to make sure yourself, then?” The mayor couldn’t stop the curt remark from leaving his lips. He took a calming breath before continuing. “Please, everyone, hear me out. The letter I received came via Lullin from Dungannon. A survivor made it to the lake city, burned and battered. He was able to give his testimony before perishing from his injuries. No matter how hard we want to trick ourselves into believing that it’s not true—it happened.”

  “But why would Emperor Roann do such a thing?” A woman in the front row spoke up with disbelief in her voice.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone knows.” The mayor tried not to weep. The thought of all those innocent peo
ple being killed sent shivers down his spine. He hoped their deaths had been quick and painless. Although, after hearing the tale of the survivor whose account he was now relaying to his residents, he wasn’t sure that was the case. “But what I do know is that no one is safe in this empire any longer. There is no more news coming from the west. We don’t know if the emperor and his devil are staying in the capital, or have plans to move forth. It would be foolish of us to assume that their evils will be contained within Keld’s walls.”

  The baker spoke. “What do we do?”

  “The only thing we can do—protect our town.” The mayor suddenly found bravado. “Whatever happened in Keld, we must not allow it to come to our home. We will fight if need be. Prepare yourselves, for we may soon be in the battle for our very lives.”

  ~~~

  “Jaric, what’s that?”

  The warrior pulled a long, thin metal rod from inside his boot with a smirk. He held the lockpick up for Grildi to inspect. “Just a little something for emergencies. Careful, it’s the only one I have, so don’t bend it.”

  Grildi turned the piece over in his giant hands. “What else you got in those boots?”

  “Quit being wise.” Jaric accepted the pick back and quietly shuffled over to the cell door. “You never know when you’re going to need to liberate some goodies from a locked chest—or escape from prison.”

  “Well, why didn’t you use it last night? The floor is really uncomfortable, you know.” Grildi rubbed his aching neck and shoulders.

  “In case you forgot, I slept on the floor too—with your arm crushing my chest most of the night.”

  “I was cold…”

  “And how soon you forget about the garrison of zombie soldiers right outside our door? If I tried to get us out then, we’d be one of them right now.” He peered down the corridor. “I don’t know where they are this morning, but if we don’t take this chance, we might not get another.”

  “You’re smart, Jaric.” Grildi clapped him on the back with a broad smile.

  Jaric forced a weak grin of his own, thinking to himself that there were much worse cellmates to be had than the loveable giant. All night, when they didn’t know whether or not they’d see the light of the next morning, Grildi had been by his side, ready to protect him at a moment’s notice. He had watched the man do the same thing with Ryris, always at the ready to defend his friend, and he was grateful that Grildi’s loyalty seemed to bubble over to him. Thinking of the alchemist sent a worried shiver down Jaric’s spine. He hoped he and Kaia were both safe. After she had been led away by Roann, the three men were taken down into the dungeons, where they were immediately separated. Ryris was dragged away to his own prison, far down the corridor from their cell. Jaric and Grildi had both tried to hear any evidence of him all night—but came up empty. There was no way of telling whether or not Ryris was still alive. They would just have to break out and find him. Kneeling, Jaric got to work inspecting the lock that stood between them and freedom.

  It was an old tumbler lock, covered in a rich patina. Fortunately, it was one that could be opened from either side. Jaric wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the ineptness of the prison builders, or thank Oleana for this small blessing. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the lockpick into the keyhole and hoped he wouldn’t break it on the first try. He worked for several minutes, grumbling to himself as the lock refused to budge. His hands gripped the pick tighter as he upped his strength, hoping with every breath that his tool didn’t snap.

  Grildi shuffled forward, mindful not to block out the meager torchlight from the corridor. “Looks stuck.”

  Jaric stared up at him, a deadpan expression on his face. “Are there any other important points you’d like to bring to my attention?”

  “I’m hungry, too.”

  Shaking his head with an irritated grumble, Jaric returned to his work. The lock was ancient, but well-made. It was obvious it had spent centuries keeping prisoners contained within the dungeon halls. Jaric surmised it had never been picked—successfully—for the tumblers inside were tight and unwilling to budge. But, he was nothing if not determined, and wasn’t willing to give up without a fight. There was no way he’d spend another night in this filthy place. Jiggling the thin metal rod within the mechanism, he could hear the tumblers clicking within the lock. But there was no way to tell whether they were moving toward unlocking—or seconds away from chomping his lockpick in two.

  “I could break the door down.”

  Jaric paused his activity, looking up at the giant man. “I really don’t want to have a party with some rotten guards, Grildi. Bust that door and they’ll be back faster than lightning.”

  “Aye.” The large man nodded with a slight pout. “I guess I’ll just sit and watch, then.”

  Jaric knew the gentle giant wanted to feel useful, and he was confident he’d get his chance eventually. Their weapons were sticking out of a barrel down the hall, and if they broke out, they’d most definitely need them to find their friends and escape the castle. So, he kept at it, carefully applying just enough pressure to get the tumblers to move without snapping his implement in two. More minutes passed, and the soldier lost confidence that he would ever be able to free himself and his friend.

  “You must get out. You have to stop him!”

  Jaric stopped dead. He brought his finger to his mouth to shush his friend. The voice wasn’t menacing, but he wasn’t taking any chances. The two men waited silently, wondering if the whispers would continue, or if they were just a figment of their imagination.

  “Please. Stop my son.”

  The two men looked at each other in shock. Were they really imprisoned with the empress?

  “Shhh, you’ll get the guards down here.” Jaric continued to work on the lock as he whispered. “Have you been there this whole time?”

  “I didn’t want the soldiers to come after us if I tried to talk to you last night. Where did they go?”

  “I don’t know. I’m trying to pick the lock, but it’s being a bastard. Pardon my language.”

  “No offense taken.” A rustling of fabric indicated that the woman had moved closer to her cell door in order to be heard clearer. “Perhaps your large friend can break the door? I saw when you came in, I’m fairly confident he could do it.”

  The locked popped, breaking the pick in the process. Jaric scowled and threw the pieces to the ground. He swung the cell door open, wincing at the loud squeak coming from the rusty hinges. He hoped the zombie guards didn’t hear. Motioning for Grildi to follow quietly, he snuck out of their cell and moved to stand in front of the empress’.

  “No need, Ma’am.” Jaric bowed in the presence of the monarch, nudging Grildi to do the same. “I’m Jaric and this here is Grildi. Are you hurt?”

  “No, just cold. I’m Eilith—and there’s no need to bow to me, I’m no longer royalty.” She frowned sadly. “Please, take me with you. I’m afraid I’ll be killed soon.”

  Jaric grabbed a torch from a holder on the wall and illuminated her cell. “You don’t happen to have an extra lockpick, do you? Otherwise I’m afraid we can’t get you out. Ours broke.”

  Eilith took a moment to think before reaching into her hair. She drew out a long, silver hairpin, encrusted with pearls. “Will this do?”

  “Well I’ll be damned; you had a lockpick this whole time…and a fancy one at that.” Jaric accepted the implement through the bars and inspected it in the flickering flames of the torchlight. He shook his head with a frown. “This’ll never work. The metal’s too soft, it’ll bend straight away.”

  The empress begged him. “Please try. Roann is insane…”

  “I can’t promise anything...” Jaric hunched over, Grildi bringing the torch closer to his work area. He inserted the hairpin into the lock, only to have it bend awkwardly within seconds. He threw it to the ground with an exasperated huff. “Damn it!”

  Eilith hung her head, and sank back against the wall. Her gown caught on the stones, tearing the fabric. Sh
e looked down at the dirty satin and began to cry. “Thank you for trying. You’d better go before they catch you. I’ll try to buy you some time.”

  Jaric couldn’t bear the sight of the empress in tears. He had to figure out a way to release her, because he couldn’t in good conscience leave her to her fate at Roann’s hands. The warrior scanned the cellblock for anything he could use as a pick, or to break the lock. A few stones fallen from the crumbling walls littered the floor, but none were heavy enough to break down a door. He pushed on the bars with the weight of his body, in hopes that they would just give under the pressure. After all, the prison was old. As he pressed against the door, dust and pebbles rained down from the jamb, indicating that it might just relent.

  “Grildi, give me a hand. Push on that other side with all your might.” He pointed to the back of the cell. “Stand back, Your Highness. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Eilith pressed her body up against the far wall and covered her face with her hands. The two men heaved their bodies against the bars, the metal groaning under their collective weight. Inch by inch, with every shove, the cell door pulled further and further out from the door frame. The hinges, rusty and old, began to buckle. When they finally gave, the door came crashing down into the cell. Fragments of the wall flew into the small space, eliciting a muffled shriek from the empress. As the dust cleared, Grildi barreled into the prison and extended a hand to the old woman.

  Eilith accepted the gesture and gingerly stepped over the rubble and broken bars now lying on the floor. Noise from down the hall—a rusty door being hastily thrown open—caused all three prisoners to snap their heads in the direction of the new commotion. Grildi guided Eilith into their former cell and put a finger to his lips, encouraging her to hide. Jaric swooped toward the barrel and grabbed their weapons, hurling the massive man’s club at him with a grunt.

  Shuffling footsteps and the unmistakable odor of Roann’s undead guards were quickly upon them. As one rounded the corner, Jaric swung his sword in a graceful arc, lobbing the soldier’s head clean off his body. The abomination crumpled to the ground in a heap, his weapon clattering to the cobblestones. Eilith gasped and covered her eyes. Another guard soon appeared, only to have his skull smashed by Grildi’s brute strength and trusty club. The last two guards came down the hall side-by-side.