The Fake Voice (Time Alchemist)

by Allice Revelle

  I felt my muscles stiffen. Two days ago was when they attacked us in the Sun and Moon Library, but before that, roughly two months ago, he and his brother were responsible for burning down an old abandoned church on St. Mary’s grounds—as a way to get to me. Rick seemed oblivious to my rigidness, so he continued:

  “We came back without you and that other girl, even though you two were our…assignments. Really, you were the target, but when he heard of that Dream girl in the same area we thought we could use her

  as bait and nab you both. Of course, you and your little… friends, got in the way, and all we could get was that book. He became enraged, and took out all his anger on Ash, because Ash was the one who came up with the idea. But I was the one who ran away—when I saw Ash like that, I couldn’t even think. I just bolted, and I didn’t care. And that was when I signed our death certificate.

  “I thought he was going to kill us, I really did. I begged him to give us another chance, throwing myself in his path when he went after Ash, because it was my fault you got away. So White gave me a choice: if I wanted Ash to live…I needed to get you.”

  My insides went numb.

  “Of course I jumped at it, but I felt something was just off about him. He’s never been this angry before, but I know without a damn doubt that even if I do deliver you to him he’s still going to kill us. Kill Ash. I can’t let that happen. I’m not some fucking scum that will leave my brother behind!”

  I waited until Rick had cooled down before speaking. “But why ask for my help?”

  This time, Rick turned to me, his eyes blazing with regret. “White is too strong for me to handle alone. I couldn’t even put a dent in him.

  And the only people who could manage to counter his power are people of the Black Crown. But they sure as hell wouldn’t help me—they’d

  arrest me on the spot, and leave my brother to die. And then…I thought of you. You aren’t, technically, part of the Black Crown, but you have a power that could rival even White’s.”

  My whole body flushed just from Rick’s gaze and his words; how he seemed so absolutely sure I could rival—possibly surpass—White’s power.

  “If you don’t believe me, here.” Rick reached into his jacket and took at a bundle wrapped in a black plastic bag. “This is my peace offering, my white flag. Please.”

  I took it with trembling hands, placing it on my lap. It felt heavy, like a book, and my heart caught in my throat as I unwrapped it, revealing Guinevere’s alchemic text. The very book that Rick had stolen from us—the other target of White’s desire.

  It was right here.

  But to be certain, I opened the delicate, yellowed pages, carefully flipping through every page until I came across a section one quarter of the way through, a section where a bunch of pages—roughly a dozen or so—had been ripped out carefully.

  I had those certain pages locked up in my dorm room. The pages that Guinevere had given to Leon. As a forewarning? Who knew. But it was those pages that led us to the Elixir. This was the real thing.

  “How?”

  Rick shot me a cocky grin, though his eyes were pained.

  “Remember when I said how I’d never seen White so furious? Well, after he hit my brother, I suppose I failed to mention we had gotten that book, too. But after seeing White like that, I knew that if I needed your help, I needed to give this book back to you. To get you to believe me, to trust me.”

  He took a deep breath, then placed his hand out to me. “Will you help me? Please. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you—hell, I’d serve you the rest of my damn life if we can save Ash. Please. My brother is going to die without your help.”

  The blue pill or the red, Emery? Once I chose one I couldn’t go back anymore.

  It was time to decide. To trust…or not to trust?

  CHAPTER 6

  “I don’t know.” I said honestly.

  And even then I wanted to bite the words back; I wanted to punch myself awake. My ticket to White was literally sitting five feet away from me! So I did what the Old Emery would have done: I made a list.

  Pros:

  This was the alchemist (or one of them, at least) that I was looking for. He was the whole reason I trekked up to Atlanta in the first place!

  If what Rick is saying is true, he’s just as much my ally now. And he’s the only one—willing—to take me where I needed to go.

  He disliked the Black Crown just as much as I did (although his reasons were vastly different from mine.) Cons:

  He worked for White. Or worked, depending on the tense.

  How do I even know he’s telling the truth? I’ve had people lie to my face and I barely batted an eye (shameful

  moments, they where).

  It feels too much like a coincidence. And I didn’t believe too much in coincidences—something didn’t feel right.

  Regardless, my gut tells me not to dive in head first.

  Rick waited, and I had to shake my head—shake away all the doubt and trust—and look him point blank in the eye.

  “I mean it—I just don’t know. This is too weird. And to even be honest: why should I help you? You and you’re brother attacked my friends too many times to count. You not only tried to kill me but you even burned down a very, very old and well preserved chapel on my school grounds, and even had the nerve to try and get my friend who, by the way, isn’t even involved in all this alchemy business, almost fried to a crisp doing some secret initiation in some underground tunnels.”

  I took a breath, not realizing how loud I had blurted all of that out

  —and how good it made me feel. I was letting out all this built up stress that had been threatening to burst since Dove was hurt. It actually made me feel better. Not much, but a little.

  Rick sucked in a heavy breath, then blew out, releasing something pent up. Probably frustration. His form trembled a little and he fished around in his pockets before producing a pack of smokes. He shook it, pulling out one of the sticks before realizing he didn’t have a lighter—his gloves were still in my possession. Guess it was a pretty good

  coincidence to be able to light a match whenever possible.

  “Look,” he started again, “Those attacks? We were ordered to do that, but not to kill you or your friends. We were trying to spook you out of that preppy school. White wouldn’t dare try to kidnap some kid from such a prestigious school like that—especially what happened last semester.”

  Of course White would know how involved I was with the police last year. Perfect. He probably had spies everywhere.

  “So yeah, I’ll take responsibility for the church. And honestly, Ash went a little farther than he should.” I gave him a glare, and Rick relented. “Okay, he went too far. And the lake thing, too. Sorry about that. But I had to admit, the looks on your faces were priceless.”

  My whole body burned at the memory of my almost-kiss with Leon by the lake. God, had it really only been weeks ago since everything had been normal before? When Leon, Dove and I wasted the few sunny afternoons resting by the lake, occasionally make jokes and trying to act like a normal “family”?

  Before I could throw my shoe at Rick’s snide face, he went on as if unfazed by my embarrassment. “And that’s it. That’s all we did. Nothin’

  more, nothin’ less.”

  “Then what about the tunnels?” I pressed.

  “What tunnels?” Rick shot back. “Look, I’m taking blame for the

  two attacks at your school— only two. That’s all. And that library. But anything else wasn’t us.”

  “What were you two even doing at that library in the first place?”

  “It’s where White sent us, after we kidnapped the Dream girl. He wanted us to see if that book was hidden somewhere. But as you can see, libraries and I just don’t mix. I think I may be allergic to paper and ink.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “So yeah, we looked up and down that stupid dump, keeping the Dream girl drugged—as ordered—and found no sig
n of that book. Did you know that library has a pretty comfy attic? That’s where we were when we heard you and your babe of a friend sneak in that night. Is she available?”

  This time I ignored my own warnings and stomped the heel of my sneakers onto his toe. He let out a yelp of pain and shot a burning glare in my direction.

  “Come one inch close to her and I will make it so you never existed, Fire boy. Got it?”

  He raised his hands again in mock surrender, but still had a glare.

  “Fine. God, stingy.”

  The Fire Alchemist ignored my own glare back and continued his story: “Whatever. Anyway that’s where we were until you showed up.

  Ash was supposed to keep put with that Dream girl and I would take out

  that ba—I mean, your very hot friend. And don’t even think of trying to break my toes again. You have to admit she is a total hottie. I had her cornered until some other guy—that goth—came in out of nowhere. I scrambled out of there and then I saw from the second floor what you did.”

  Here, Rick paused and looked at me, his eyes traveling to the back of my neck where his “handy work” was shown. Rick had burned the skin of my neck badly, and taken my long hair with it. Now it fell short, barely past my ears, giving me a boyish look. Even now it was taking some time to get used to.

  “I won’t apologize for that. You did hurt my brother, after all,” he said, leaning forward, a spark of ignorance flashing in his chocolate orbs.

  “But if you’d like, after all this is over, I’ll accept any kinda punishment you want. Just name it; I’ll do it, like a good lap dog will.”

  I turned away, snorting under my breath. But he seemed truly genuine about his attacks—I mean he already had three strikes against him. It wouldn’t hurt him to admit what he did in those tunnels with Samantha, yet he’s adamant it wasn’t him.

  Well…and besides, if he didn’t know about the tunnels…best not to mention them again.

  “Thank you.”

  Rick seemed taken aback, blinking in the flickering lights of the

  street lamps. “Huh?”

  “I’m saying, thank you for telling me that,” I sighed, then held Guinevere’s book up high. “And for this. But I still…I can’t just jump the gun on this. I need to think about your offer.”

  He just shook his head, running a tarnished hand through his red locks. Finally he relented. “Okay. I get it. I shouldn’t have expected you to agree so quickly anyway. I’ll give you a night. Can you meet me here tomorrow morning?”

  “Will do.” I nodded. “But you came to all this trouble—travelled all this way, and found me here, in Atlanta of all places, to ask for my help? What am I getting out of this in return?”

  An eyebrow shot up, obscured by his spiky red-and-black bangs.

  Rick just leaned back on the swing as it creaked beneath his weight.

  After too long of a pause, a flash of irritation ran through my veins. I got up off my own swing, hearing the metal chain clang on the empty one next to, and placed Rick’s gloves on the seat. I was flattered that a former bad boy wanted my help, but there were still too many questions piling up. How in the hell did he even find me? Was it just dumb luck? A coincidence?

  I didn’t think there was such a thing anymore.

  He reached out with lightening speed and clasped a warm hand tight over my wrist. I let out a quick gasp, moving on instinct and sent

  my foot right into his leg. He let out a surprised yell of pain and I took that moment to wretch my grasp from his.

  I was about to bolt—with Guinevere’s book clutched so tightly to my chest I thought it was going to leave imprints on my skin—when Rick coughed out. “Wait!”

  “What?” I snapped.

  Rick was bent down, rubbing his shin. I was in the perfect position to kick him square in the face if he tried anything else. He looked up, eyes pleading. “You think I came here unprepared? I’m not a dumbass; I just hadn’t gotten to that part of the deal yet.”

  “What part?”

  “What you’re getting out of helping me, besides that book,” he confessed. With some effort, he stood so we were face to face. I backed up one step, warning him with a glare. He didn’t move an inch, although he raked a hand through his locks.

  “I know you need a piece of the Elixir.”

  The world seemed to tilt, and my grip on the book tightened until my palms began to sweat. How did he know? Nobody really knew except Chrys and Ru that I needed to find a piece for Dove. But that’s what finding Guinevere’s book was for. With some help, I could crack the nearest riddle and find the piece to save her life.

  I eyed him warily, distrusting his words, yet curios at the same

  time.

  “Look, things get around in this world,” Rick explained.

  “Everyone knows—or has heard of—the infamous Emery Miller and how she has the ability to stop Time. That put you in White’s radars, big time.

  That’s why Ash and I were sent down to Savannah. But I saw what happened, when you chased after me. I saw that boy, your friend, stab that girl right through the middle like toothpick.”

  My insides grew cold. The color red flashed in my eyes, seeing Dove’s crimpled form, like she was sleeping in a puddle of her own blood, watching the color drain from her face. Seeing a then possessed Leon towering over her with this sick, plastic grin on his frozen face.

  “And I knew you understood.”

  I shook my head, feeling a cold sweat break out. “You don’t understand. None of it.”

  “I know that girl’s alive—barely,” Rick stated bluntly. “Maybe I don’t know the details, but it was pure luck that I came across you.

  Those two thugs? They were assigned to nab you next, so I followed them. Believe me when I say I’m damn surprised to find you here and not back in Savannah, but I had to act.”

  “So what is it you’re offering me?”

  “The key to saving that girl’s life. Something that book might be able to help you with—if it isn’t too late.”

  I said nothing.

  “White didn’t want that book for a particular reason. He’s always been at ends with Guinevere. He hated her, though I can’t figure out why. He planned to burn her book once he got his hands on it. He didn’t need the clues they held. The clues to the Elixir. And I happen to know that White has a lot of shit planned up his sleeve—and that’s just one of them.”

  “So what are you saying?”

  He gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m s aying if you come with me—

  willingly—to help rescue my brother, I will help you locate White’s hidden stash. His Elixir stash. I caught a glimpse of it once, before all hell broke loose. He has to have dozens of pieces, right for the picking.

  So what do you say?”

  CHAPTER 7

  “So that’s the whole story.”

  I tucked my legs underneath me, settling further into the unusually plush chair that sure as heck didn’t fit inside of St. Mary’s library. Chrys sat across from me dressed in the same pale white summery nightgown that I saw her in every visit. This time, her strawberry blonde hair fell in waves past her shoulders, almost reaching the small of her back, an odd contrast to the braids she usually wove before bedtime. The day’s events had been so mind boggling that as soon as I got back to my hotel room, I collapsed in a heap on the sheets fully clothed and still reeking of sweat (luckily you can’t really smell much in the dreamscape).

  And like clockwork, Chrys came to me, and I told her everything that had happened. Including Rick’s white flag. Chrys twirled a piece of hair around her finger, and said, “Well, I think you should go for it. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “He could backstab me—literally—and deliver me right into White’s hands. If he’s lying.”

  “Oh. Right.” She chewed on her bottom lip before her one good

  eye went round. “But he went to all the trouble to give you Guinevere’s text, didn’t he? That’s wha
t you were after in the first place. So why not just come home, then?”

  I sighed, stretching my dream-limbs up in the air until I felt muscles pop. “Well, I guess there’s been a change of plans. I asked him on a hunch if he’s heard of anything about White that may have to do with the Elixir…”

  “And?”

  “He surprised me,” I confessed, “He says there’s a high possibility that White may actually have some of the Elixir with him. At his home, where he’s keeping Rick’s brother. At first, I just wanted the book to try and decipher it, but who knows how long it would take?” When Dove had gotten the pages from Leon (through me), it had taken her almost a full month just to translate a dozen pages. Did I even have that much time?

  “So you want to go.”

  “I do, but I’m still not sure if it’s a trap or not.” I shook my head, frowning. Rick’s determined gaze seemed burned in my brain, the slight whine in his voice when he pleaded to me, not to mention that smoky smell constantly lingering in the back of my throat. I lifted a hand, brushing away hair—then realized it was a habit. My fingertips barely grazed the edges of the trim that Frankie Ann had given me before I left.

  How could I forget that Rick was personally responsible for my wonderful new hair style? Burning hair is all the rage these days, don’t you know?

  But hair (no matter how much I liked it long) was nothing to cry about. Still, just remembering that night at the Sun and Moon Library, feeling as if the back of my neck was literally melting off from his alchemy…

  The fierce protectiveness and anger that swelled in his eyes when I took his brother down. And how he basically abandoned his “mission”

  to get his brother out. Though I didn’t believe Rick was a good guy at heart, he loved his brother. He was the type willing to put himself before the bullet if it meant saving Ash. “The way he looks…it’s familiar. It’s like looking in a mirror.” I confessed, realizing what I said was true: these past few days, whenever I caught my reflection I could only stare at myself in anger, scolding myself for being so weak, failing to protect my friends. I even lied to my own father about what was going on; the truth would only hurt him, raise his papa bear-like reflexes and never let me step one foot out of the house again.