The Flaw in the Stone

by Cynthea Masson

  “What do you propose we do in the meantime? What if Azoth Fraxinus is correct in his suspicions? What will become of the children Dracaen inevitably creates?”

  “Dracaen cannot create an alchemical child without a chemical spouse from the bloodline. He is delusional if he thinks otherwise. We must hope he cannot find one. Fortunately, Fraxinus abhors Dracaen’s plan. If necessary, he will lie once again. As he did with you, he will convince Dracaen that a potential spouse is of the bloodline when she is not. Fraxinus believes once Dracaen has failed a handful of times, he will cease his efforts and search for a solution to the error of his ways. The search alone could take the better part of a century.”

  Jinjing shivered. She had not known of Fraxinus’s role. He could have spared her.

  “Fraxinus regrets what happened to you. And he regrets what may happen to others. He had assumed Dracaen would stop, that after his failed attempt with you, he would come to realize that I was a miracle child. A miracle never again to be replicated without Genevre. But, of course, Dracaen is not one to give up, even if years pass in the interim. Therefore, we have no alternative but to strategize, to ensure we are ready to intervene when necessary.”

  Jinjing nodded, stunned at these revelations, unable to otherwise respond.

  “We must trust each other alone — our coalition,” insisted Kalina. “For the future good of all dimensions, we must be prepared to confide in one another, yet lie to others.”

  Jinjing understood that Kalina trusted her implicitly. Yet she hesitated as she contemplated whether to agree to her proposal — not because she lacked trust in Kalina, but because she lacked trust in herself. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a small golden mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Did she recognize herself any longer? At each of her previous points of decision, Jinjing believed she had made the morally correct choice. She had agreed to work for the Alchemists’ Council when encouraged by Obeche. With the alchemists, she had intended to help protect the outside world. Instead, she had inadvertently participated in its downfall. Amidst the first outside world war, she had then agreed to work for the Rebel Branch when encouraged by Dracaen. With the rebels, she had intended to help ensure the permanence of the Flaw in the Stone, so the Council never again had reason to distract itself from its purpose to maintain elemental balance. She had believed in Dracaen’s stated long-term intentions of free will and mutual conjunction for all. But she had inadvertently become a victim to his obsession to produce another alchemical child. Now, jaded and aged, Jinjing was being offered a chance to begin again, to align herself with an alchemical child and her insurgents. Could such a motley coalition succeed at supplanting influential Elders of both the Alchemists’ Council and the Rebel Branch?

  “If you agree to join us, we would require your assistance immediately.”

  “I need more information — more details about the plan.”

  “Genevre has proposed the creation of a breach in interdimensional space with its focal point here in Qingdao. Years ago, she transcribed the ancient ritual from a manuscript in the deepest rebel archives. The breach would allow us future access to Council dimension — access to decree our acts of rebellion, including the mutual conjunctions. Ilex and Melia will perform the ritual using bloodline alchemy, but they require you to assist with pronunciation. Interdimensional breaches are geographically specific. For certain sections of the ritual, alchemical dialects cannot be used. Instead, we must use the primary language of the people of Qingdao.”

  “So . . . you’ve chosen to include me only because of my linguistic ability?”

  “We’ve chosen you because, like each of us, you have ties to both the Alchemists’ Council and the Rebel Branch. We’ve chosen you because, like us, you’ve taken personal risks to effect necessary change. You’ve chosen repeatedly to stand up where others would have submitted. We’ve chosen the Qingdao protectorate because you live here. You speak the languages of all the communities in which you reside, including that of Qingdao. We’ve chosen you, Jinjing. But if you reject us, we will respect your choice and find an alternate location for the breach.”

  Jinjing was both pleased and intrigued. “How would we sustain a breach powerful enough to last several decades undetected?”

  “It doesn’t have to last decades. It merely has to open decades from now.”

  And there it was — the golden nugget that swayed Jinjing’s decision. Kalina proposed powerful alchemy beyond any Jinjing had encountered: the transmutation of time. Jinjing responded with neither the Ab Uno nor Rebel Branch gesture. Instead, she shook Kalina’s hand, acutely aware of both its alchemical strength and human fragility.

  For as powerful as Ilex and Melia knew blood alchemy to be, for as much as they had already accomplished as alchemists, they nonetheless doubted their ability to succeed. The instructions were clear. They were to create a breach through time. The negative space they created today would open as positive space seventy-five years in the future. The resulting vortex in the outside world should — theoretically — thereafter allow unrestricted access between Flaw and Council dimensions. Of course, the possibility for abuse was inherent: once discovered, both rebels and alchemists could access the channel. Ilex, Melia, and their allies could only hope that the temporary vortex would close immediately after they accomplished their tasks.

  All ritual materials had been prepared in advance. These materials fell into two broad categories: physical objects and ritual words. Attaining the majority of the tangible items was relatively straightforward thanks to Saule and Genevre, who pilfered them from Council dimension. However, five of the physical objects had to be attained from diverse locations in the outside world, which delayed the process substantially. Jinjing located one item within a few hours’ travel of Qingdao; Saule attained the other four by fabricating excuses for unorthodox portal trips. The most difficult of the four was a white truffle, which Saule finally managed to obtain in a remote village in Italy. Meanwhile, Ilex, Melia, and Jinjing rehearsed. They read and reread the alchemical recipes, aligning the ingredients as they were attained. They also repeatedly practised both the physical gestures and vocal intonations of the ritual itself — the blood and breath, the earth and air, the body and the spirit of elemental Quintessence. Correct pronunciation in each language was paramount to assuring the vortex opened at the right time and place.

  “What do you make of the reference to the Prima Materia?” asked Ilex one day during yet another rehearsal of the ritual words. “It appears both in the list of ingredients and in two verses of the ritual.”

  “Yes, that too mystified me when I copied the ritual from the manuscript. But I’ve come to interpret the phrase as a figurative reference to all the ingredients we have collected,” said Genevre. “That is, I believe the phrase to be a term for the collective ingredients. As a whole, together, they represent the Prima Materia from which our vortex will be created.”

  “What if your interpretation is incorrect? What if the Prima Materia refers to another substance altogether? The primary matter from which the dimensions themselves were created?”

  “If so, we have no means to attain it,” responded Genevre. “And the ritual will fail.”

  “Which would explain why none of us has ever heard of alchemists of the current era attempting the transmutation of time.”

  “At least if we fail for our lack of understanding or attaining the Prima Materia, the fault will not rest with me and my flawed pronunciation,” laughed Jinjing.

  Though she had laughed, Jinjing appeared the most anxious in this regard, rehearsing her part until well after midnight on multiple occasions. As a Keeper of the Book, her knowledge of alchemical rituals was extensive; however, her personal experience was limited to marriage and birthing rituals in Flaw dimension and consecrations on relocated manuscripts in Council dimension. A few nights ago, she had admitted her concerns to Ilex and Melia. In turn, they admitted
their own to her.

  “When attempting the virtually impossible,” said Ilex, “one must lower one’s expectations of success.”

  “When attempting the virtually impossible,” added Melia, “one must increase one’s tendency to smile.”

  They relaxed and continued their rehearsal.

  Once all objects had been obtained and all words learned, they chose a precise date and time to commence the Great Work. During the ritual, Ilex and Melia would perform their portion from the building in which they were housed; Jinjing and Kalina would perform their portion from the protectorate library. To triangulate the ritual space, Saule and Genevre would be positioned on another street holding a fragment from both the Lapis and the Dragonblood Stone. Though Jinjing had suggested Payam be sequestered outside the triangle for the duration of the ritual — at the home of an acquaintance of hers — neither Ilex nor Melia agreed. As much as they trusted Jinjing, they could not trust a stranger and thus risk interference by either the Alchemists’ Council or the Rebel Branch while Payam was out of their immediate vicinity. Instead, Ilex and Melia purchased several new puzzles assured to keep him occupied in his room.

  All was progressing as planned until they reached the point of no return — until the triangulated area sparked with a turquoise flash indicating the space had been primed for acceptance of the Words of Transmutation. To the outside observer, the flash would have seemed little more than a momentary trick of the eye. To Ilex, Melia, and the others, it signalled the transition to the next stage of the ritual. As planned, Ilex and Melia would commence the Dance of Conjunction, Jinjing and Kalina would begin the Recitation of the Portal, and Saule and Genevre would enact the Scattering of the Dust — that is, they would sprinkle powder scraped from both the Lapis and the Dragonblood Stone onto the ground at their feet.

  Upon completion of their portion, Ilex and Melia stood at the open window looking out onto the street. They presumed Jinjing and Kalina were doing the same. Saule and Genevre were the only two who could not see directly into the centre arena of the triangulation. They had all agreed in advance that upon the completion of the ritual, Kalina and Genevre would return to confer with Ilex and Melia. Meanwhile, Jinjing and Saule would hold their positions to maintain the triangulation for a full hour to observe the results or any lingering alchemical effects. Thereafter, they too would reconvene with the others.

  Genevre and Kalina walked into Ilex and Melia’s main room together. Neither one had noticed anything on their walk that could confirm a transmutation of Prima Materia into a time vortex had occurred. For the next fifteen minutes, all four stood at the window looking out onto the street, scanning for signs, but they observed no change in the landscape whatsoever. Consequently, by the twenty-minute point, they had all come to believe their efforts had failed.

  “All that work for nought,” said Ilex aloud.

  Then the unthinkable happened.

  Though her hope for ritual success had abated, Genevre nonetheless felt content that the attempt had given her the opportunity to spend time with her son. She smiled serenely as she walked towards his room, where she planned to join him to solve the most complex of the new puzzles. Finding the bedroom empty, Genevre assumed Payam had disobeyed the instructions to stay in his room to go to the kitchen for a snack. Not finding him there, she feared he had hidden himself silently in the main room to observe the ritual. But after a swift search behind furniture and within cupboards, she concluded he was missing.

  “I cannot find—” she began. But Ilex and Melia turned to her, a horrified look on their face.

  Genevre ran to the window. The truth of Payam’s whereabouts was worse than she had imagined. He was in the street playing ball with a young, dark-haired woman. Genevre knew that the aura of magenta around the woman signified she was from another time. The depth of the magenta suggested she had emerged from decades into the future — most likely from the projected point seventy-five years from now. The transmutation had worked after all. The physical proof was standing in the street playing ball with Payam. But this proof was a potential problem. Payam had interrupted the timeline by interacting with the woman.

  “Who is she?” whispered Ilex.

  Genevre shook her head. She moved to the door and watched, waiting for her chance to extract Payam without drawing the attention of the young woman. Already, they would have to suffer the repercussions of Payam having been witnessed from the future. But at least he would have aged substantially by then, his appearance having thus changed. Genevre, on the other hand, could not risk being recognized by the woman seventy-five years from now.

  Genevre’s opportunity arose when the woman turned to chase the ball. Genevre ran into the street, snatched Payam into her arms, and ran back before the woman had even reached the ball. In the meantime, Ilex and Melia had adjusted the shutters so that they could continue to watch the woman without her being able to see them. After quickly resettling Payam into his room and insisting firmly he stay put, Genevre returned to the main room to observe the woman who, by this point, appeared quite distraught. She walked along the street knocking on doors, including theirs. Genevre turned quietly towards the bedrooms in case the knock caused Payam to come running. But this time, he remained in the back as instructed, so Genevre turned again to the window to watch the woman. Eventually, she wandered out of their sightline; despite their curiosity, they had no choice but to remain indoors until the entire projected hour of the transmutation had run its course.

  Even then, they opened the front door slowly and peered out cautiously before venturing into the street. Jinjing had done the same. They knew better than to discuss the events aloud where they could be overheard. They all stood in the street silently, shaking their heads in amazement as they awaited Saule. Upon her arrival, they all returned as planned to Ilex and Melia’s.

  “Fetch Payam,” said Jinjing, as they settled into the main room.

  As soon as Genevre gave the word, Payam rushed to greet them, running down the hall and into the arms of Ilex and Melia. They held him for a few moments before directing him to a chair, at which point Jinjing, as nonchalantly as possible, asked, “What did the woman say to you?”

  “I don’t know,” responded Payam. “I couldn’t understand her.”

  “Perhaps she will think their meeting no more than a chance encounter,” suggested Melia. “We may never know her name.”

  “Jay-Den,” said Payam.

  “She told you her name?” asked Melia.

  “She pointed to herself and said Jay-Den.”

  “Jay-Den,” said Genevre.

  “May I go outside? I want to play ball.”

  “Yes,” said Melia.

  They watched him as he began kicking his ball against a building across the street. They were glad he had not noticed anything out of the ordinary.

  “Jay-Den,” Genevre said once again.

  “Not quite,” said Jinjing. “Her name is Jaden. The word is a variant pronunciation of Jade, as in Crassula argentea.”

  “An alchemist!” exclaimed Kalina. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes, I am certain.”

  “How?”

  “Arjan told me. In the protectorate. While we watched Jaden and Payam in the street.”

  “Arjan? Another alchemist from the Council?” asked Kalina.

  “Not just any alchemist from the Council. He also arrived from the future. Arjan, of course, is his tree name. If I am not mistaken, he was once Payam.”

  Everyone gasped.

  “He appeared in the protectorate during the transmutation. I now believe him responsible for it. That is, I believe Payam and Arjan together to be responsible.”

  “Responsible? But we performed the ritual,” said Saule.

  “Yes, but nothing happened until Payam ran into the street. Surely in those first twenty minutes, you began to suspect the ritual had failed. I certai
nly did,” admitted Jinjing. “But the moment Payam interacted with Jaden, Arjan suddenly appeared at the window inside the protectorate library. I knew then we had succeeded.”

  “What did Payam— what did Arjan tell you?” asked Ilex.

  “He spoke to me as if he knew me. And I quickly realized he knew me from the future. He did not appear to think anything amiss. He merely believed I had returned to the library to speak with him. He barely looked at me when he spoke. He kept glancing out the window or at the manuscripts on the table. So, I assumed we’d met in his timeline but he hadn’t observed me closely enough to notice subtleties of age difference. He just rambled on about the work he and Jaden had been assigned. They were searching for bees in the manuscripts — bees that had been disappearing from manuscripts. That’s what he emphasized repeatedly: disappearing bees. I didn’t quite follow. He said the task was one meant to keep Council Initiates busy.”

  “Are you saying that Arjan and Jaden are Initiates on the Alchemists’ Council seventy-five years into the future?” asked Kalina.

  “So it appears,” replied Jinjing.

  “We must ensure that they are,” said Saule, clearly agitated.

  “What do you mean?” asked Ilex.

  “We must ensure that seventy-five years from now, Arjan and Jaden are indeed situated as Initiates, will return together to Qingdao, will enact again what we have witnessed today. Otherwise, the portal will not open for us to carry forward the plan.”

  “Will they not necessarily already be situated and then return by the mere fact that they were here today? Is time not stable in that sense?” asked Melia.

  “Time is stable as long as no one interferes with it. We have interfered,” replied Jinjing. “Payam spoke with Jaden, and I spoke with Arjan. The timeline has thereby changed.”