by Nina Walker
“You peed your pants?” I teased.
“I couldn’t get my belt off in time. It was so funny!”
“Okay, silly girl.” I shook my head, trying not to laugh too. I really didn’t understand kid humor. That sounded like a mortifying experience to me, definitely not funny.
I waited for her to relax and the giggles to slow. Then, I pulled at my magic, allowing it to connect with the orange stone on my own palm. Thin wisps of color twisted into the air. With barely a thought, they found their closest entry point into Lacey—the tiny tip of her elbow.
“Was it like this belt.” I pointed to my own.
That was all it took, and she shrieked into hysterics. This time, her enjoyment was tenfold. I watched, beyond amused, as the magic worked on her. I’d only used the tiniest amount, but it had been more than enough to keep her going for another five minutes. Finally she calmed, clutching her tiny torso, the pink shirt she wore rumbled around her belly. We’d probably have to get her into black soon. She was progressing so quickly. But the idea of taking away any ounce of her childhood, including pink clothes, could wait.
“Okay, now it’s your turn,” I said.
“Good.” She smiled. “It’s about time you’re happy.”
“Hey, I’m happy.”
She shook her head, snatching the rock. “No, you’re not.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Tell me a funny story.”
Funny was a tall order. I didn’t find a lot of things particularly funny. I didn’t use it often, but when I did, I usually used orange to lighten up. Just to soften my mood and make my shining personality less grizzly. Not that anyone really knew just how depressed and angry I could get at times. I was a good liar. Was being the operative word lately. Lacey could see right through the illusion. Kids had a way of doing that.
“Well, let me think,” I said, eyeing the rock in her hand. Small pulses of color were already beginning to filter out of the somewhat-muted orange. Was it really this hard to think of something funny? That was just sad. Footsteps edged around the lake, and my guard immediately shot up. I spotted the blue sweater vest and rolled my eyes. Christopher was walking around the lake, a little distance from us, making a ruckus as he did so, knocking rocks and weeds. He really didn’t have the personality for roughing it in the wilderness. But at least he was far enough away that he couldn’t hear whatever I had to say.
“When I met Hank, I was just a little girl,” I said. “He helped me and Tristan get out of New Colony.”
“Like how you helped my family?”
“Yes, like that.”
“Except you forgot Jessa.”
I sighed. “No, Jessa came here, remember? But she chose to go back to help us from over there.”
She frowned. “This isn’t a funny story.”
“I know, hold your horses, I’m getting to that,” I said. “So when I first met Hank, he had this silly mustache. It looked so bad. It wasn’t the scruffy man beard he has now. It was a corny mustache.”
She grinned. “Like right here?” She pointed to her upper lip and made a face. I crossed my eyes at her and nodded, sending her into more giggles.
“Yes, and one time Tristan… Have you met him? Well, he’s kind of a jokester. He’s always playing pranks and making people laugh.” I smiled. “Well, one time, when we first got out here, Tristan shaved off half of Hank’s mustache while he was sleeping.”
She erupted into laughter, and I joined in. Tristan had been a teenager then, always creating havoc wherever he went. But I’d been gone for a while, and I wondered if he still had those prankster tendencies—I had better watch my back.
“Then Hank got up the next morning and came to breakfast without even looking in the mirror.” We had a lot of communal meal times back then. We still had some, but as our encampment grew into a village, those community meals had dwindled down. “You should have seen his face when he found out.” I grinned. “He was so mad! And that only made it funnier. He had to shave it off. Which was actually a blessing in disguise.”
I eyed the magic, still ready, and nodded for her to send it to me. The second it attached I burst into tears. Oh my stars, I still can’t believe Tristan did that! The memory of that morning mixed with the orange magic had my sides aching. I was doubled over in a fit, unaware of anything else going on around me.
I looked up to see Christopher had circled back, but he wasn’t alone. Mastin walked with him, dressed in his typical combat gear. The man was kind of ridiculous. He stared hard when he saw us. Ugh, I didn’t want him to see me like this. The image of Hank’s half-’stache popped into my mind again, and I snorted and wiped the tears. Awesome timing.
“Is everything all right over here?” Christopher asked, a line drawn between his eyes. Always so serious.
“Yeah, Daddy,” Lacey said. “Sasha is super funny. You should hear this story.”
I shook my head. No way.
“Okay,” he smiled at her, trepidation still in his eyes.
“It’s the magic,” I said through laughs, which were, thankfully, beginning to die down. “Your daughter has quite a strong affinity for orange.”
“I don’t get it.” Mastin uttered the first words I’d heard from him in days. Since observing him, I’d found he had a way of lurking. It was annoying.
“No one expects you to understand alchemy, Mastin.” I sighed, exasperated, my normal self returning.
“I know more than you think,” he said, deadpan. Why was he always doing that bored voice? It grated my nerves.
“Well then,” Christopher interjected, “I think that’s enough for today. Lacey’s mom has a meal waiting for her.”
I held back an eye-roll and nodded as they wandered off together. The two were like peas in a pod. I noticed how close they were and tried not to let it bother me.
“What’s your problem?” I turned on Mastin as soon as we were alone.
“I don’t have a problem.” He glared at me. His blond hair glittered in the light. His face was too pretty. All high cheekbones and green eyes and full lips and… Intense brooding nonsense! I felt my pulse rise every time he was near, and it irked me to no end. He was equal parts off-limits and sexy. Did I just say sexy? I stomped my foot in frustration.
“Look, the orange alchemy is an amplifier of emotion. The emotion someone is feeling, not necessarily what they want to feel. We were talking about funny stories so we could see if Lacey could make them even funnier.”
“You’re training that little girl.”
“Obviously.”
“But she’s only a child.”
“Yup, all the best alchemists start young.”
He shook his head, darkness flitting over his eyes and matching them to the color of the pines. “You think children can handle the…responsibility?” He said responsibility as if it were a synonym for sin or something.
Was this guy for real? He needed to back off.
“Actually, yes, I do. I was younger than her when I started.”
“Oh, and you turned out great,” he countered.
Prickly anger clawed at my hands, forming them into fists. “Haven’t we already established that you can’t talk to me like that?”
He didn’t answer.
Someone that attractive and that mean was a lethal combination. I needed to distance myself from this man; nothing about him could be good. He shrugged and reached down to pick up the orange river-rock Lacey had left at our feet. As he flipped it over, we both noticed the alchemy that floated up. Lacey hadn’t used everything she pulled. A trace of magic still remained, like an echo.
“Don’t touch that,” I said, grabbing it from his hands. A bolt of energy shot through both our veins. “Too late,” I grumbled.
His eyes flashed again, alarmed. “What’s it going to do to me?”
“Geez, no need to be afraid. A little orange never hurt anybody.”
He furrowed his brow. Well, that was interesting. He was feeling afraid of me and only t
he orange alchemy had made it apparent. Score one for Lacey! Even with that panicked expression, I couldn’t help but step closer to him. Something about him, I don’t know. It was magnetic.
Oh wait, I did know. I’d been stupidly admiring his sexiness when I’d grabbed the rock from him. Ugh, why? Residual orange had made me lose all logical thought. Now all I saw was this gorgeous unreachable man, and that made me want to understand him even more. What the…? I breathed in, trying to calm the passion rolling through me, but all I smelled was his spicy scent.
I moved closer, closing the gap between us. His lips hardened. They were so…full. So soft. I wondered what they would feel like to kiss. A pulse of desire shot through me, and I dropped the stone.
“This isn’t real,” I whispered, stepping forward as he backed away. He pressed himself against the tree, and I continued until we were toe to toe. My emotions clouded my better judgment. It wouldn’t be long before I turned the kiss in my head into reality, something that the back of my mind screamed at me to avoid. And I didn’t care. That was only a small part of me screaming to back off. But, it was so insignificant compared to the burn of desire consuming me.
My eyes caught his, and I was done. I had to kiss him.
Just as our lips were millimeters apart, he shoved me away. Hard. I landed in a puddle of emotions on the dirt. Rocks pierced my palms. The pain was enough to pull me back to reality.
“Ouch! Geez, Mastin, what was that for?”
He shook his head, covering his mouth and stumbling backward. “Were you going to kiss me?”
Well, this is embarrassing. “No,” I lied. “Are you afraid of me?”
“No.” He glared.
Ha! He totally is. “I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t believe you,” he grumbled. “I know that look you gave me. I’ve seen it plenty of times before. You were going to kiss me.”
“No I wasn’t,” I insisted. “You’re so full of yourself!” Who was I kidding? I was such a liar these days. “And you are afraid of me,” I said, changing the subject back on him. “I’m the big bad alchemist, out to get you, aren’t I?” I laughed then, because it was kind of true.
“Orange is an amplifier of emotion?” he asked, eyeing the rock.
“It’s not a bomb,” I said. The thought brought me right back to the hysterics again. He was being such a baby!
“You people are so messed up,” he said. “You’re a crazy person.”
“It takes one to know one.”
“Whatever. I’m out of here,” he said, stalking off into the trees.
I stifled my laughs and took a cleansing breath. What just happened?
A flash of annoyance rippled through me as I made my way down the path to Hank’s cabin. It was dark, and I didn’t use a flashlight. I knew this forest by heart. The chill had a bite, and I moved quickly, trying to keep distracting thoughts from entering my mind. Truth was, I didn’t want to see Mastin again. Over the last couple of days, I had done everything in my power to avoid him. No doubt, he’d be at the meeting to go over whatever plan they were working on. When Hank had asked me to join them at dinner, I’d reluctantly agreed. I didn’t want to associate with West America, but I also wasn’t going to stop them from doing something stupid by staying away.
The lights shining out of the cabin normally were a comfort to me. Not tonight. I ambled up the steps and knocked on the door. No matter what anyone said, I refused to lose my cool. I was walking into a situation with people who hated me because of who I was. Because of something I couldn’t change. That kind of ignorance wasn’t my problem.
I inched taller as Tristan swung open the door. He pulled me into a hug before ushering me inside.
Mastin was draped across the couch this time, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. At least that was a step up from hiding in the shadows. He wore some West America get-up, a kind of armed forces uniform. Most girls would probably take a double look at that. I refused.
“She’s back,” Cole nodded, standing to greet me.
“She’s back.” I smirked and joined him at the table. “But she still believes what she said before. She doesn’t trust you.”
“Let’s not worry about any of that right now,” Hank said as he maneuvered around the kitchen. He poured tea from the kettle, passing cups to everyone. The energy wasn’t quite so tumultuous tonight, and I could tell Hank was making an effort to keep it that way.
I caught Tristan’s eye as he settled in across from me. He winked. I relaxed a little. I was glad he was with us again tonight. He always had a way of lightening the mood, no matter how dark. It was one of my favorite things about him.
Everyone settled in, and I noticed Cole motioning for Mastin to come and take a seat. When he slid into the chair next to me, he asked, “Are you going to attack me again?” His tone was dry and unaffected.
“I was only defending myself.”
“Oh, is that what you’re calling it now?”
“And what would you call it?”
“Attacking an innocent bystander with alchemy,” he clipped.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Why was this guy so bent out of shape about color alchemy? And of course, West America had outlawed it completely. What did he even know about the magic? More than likely, he was scared of what he didn’t understand.
“All right, that’s enough,” Hank sighed. I glowered at Mastin, but held back my retort.
“Yes, Sasha. Settle down,” Tristan smirked. His eyes flashed when he said my fake name. I was sure he was dying to call me Frankie. But I was holding onto this new identity, and I was grateful people were going along with it. I was pretty sure Hank had told everyone to keep their mouths shut on the name situation, on account of my parents’ arrival.
I let out a long breath, deciding to get to the point. “Why am I even here? We all know these guys hate alchemy, so what do you want from me?”
“It’s complicated,” Hank muttered.
Cole straightened his uniform as I rolled my eyes. Military didn’t intimidate me. “Is she always such a contrarian?” he asked.
“No!” I answered, at the same time as Tristan said, “Yes.”
“Traitor,” I growled.
“It turns out that as much as we don’t agree with you and your lifestyle, West America needs your help,” Cole admonished. He straightened his back and stiffened in the chair. I knew it was hard for him to admit it.
Let him squirm.
“So, that’s why you’re here… You need our help?” I averted my attention and focused on Mastin. Raising my eyebrows, I asked, “You need our help?” A smile followed, willing him to challenge me.
“So it would seem.” Mastin met my gaze, his emerald eyes sharp.
The look triggered a flash of memory. The tension between us at the lake. The way the orange magic had amplified our feelings. Him, utter fear. And me, complete desire. I shook my head slightly, fighting the burn of embarrassment I was sure was exploding across my cheeks, and took a deep, steadying breath.
“What do you want from us?”
Cole cleared his throat. Mastin opened a folder that was sitting on the table. He retrieved a stack of papers, which he practically threw in my face. I glanced at the men briefly before making a show of stacking the papers neatly to read them. Not my most mature moment. Tristan laughed.
I should’ve been surprised by the words. I wasn’t. Very little surprised me these days. It was on New Colony letter head: communications between Faulk, Richard, and a few other officers. There were even photographs.
“Shadow lands,” I whispered. I stared at the landscape in the photos. They were prairie lands with sweeping fields and endless horizons. A rock formed in my stomach at the thought that soon this beautiful land would be dead.
“Richard has guardians all over New Colony, as you know,” Hank said. “We have information that he’s going to use those guardians, along with his military, to expand into West America. Very soon. And that includes destro
ying parts of our land.”
I blinked, trying to wrap my mind around the situation.
“So? It’s not like you’d let him get away with that,” I said. “Don’t you guys have armies? Weapons? Couldn’t you just stop him?”
“It’s not that simple,” Mastin interjected. “Whenever we’ve tried to engage in any kind of combat with New Colony, your people’s guardians are too strong. They’re trained like soldiers, are they not? But what’s worse, they have magic and can trick us or hurt us in innumerable ways.”
“So you’re too scared to even try?” I shoved the papers sidelong at Mastin. “Do you have any idea how bad the shadow lands are?”
“I never said we were scared,” he paused. “We won’t let him do this.” His fist slammed down on the table, sending a vibration through the wooden surface.
“We didn’t see this coming,” Cole said. “These are areas of our country that are mostly empty. Some farmland—actually some very important farmland, but not near an urban city. As much as I hate to admit it, we’re unprepared to fight alchemists. We need more resources, more soldiers, more everything.”
“And that’s why they’re here,” Tristan joined the conversation, his tone serious. The playful energy that usually accompanied him was nowhere to be seen. Tristan used to be an officer in training. Hank had gotten us both out together. He was fifteen and I’d been nine. I trusted him just as much as I trusted Hank. “You know I hate the royals as much as you do. If I’m willing to talk this over with these guys,” he motioned to Mastin and Cole, “then maybe you should too.”
As much as I hated to admit it, my friend had a point.
“All right, so you need alchemists. Don’t you have your own?” Mastin ran his fingers through his stubbly hair, exasperated. I turned on Cole. His face had paled considerably. “Or did you murder them? Isn’t that what you do over there?”
Cole sighed. “As you know, we run a democracy. And alchemy is illegal. But we’re not animals. We don’t kill them! We put them somewhere they can’t hurt themselves or others.”
I shook my head. Not good enough. I knew what that meant. Richard did the same thing with many of his less qualified alchemists. Did he kill them? No. But he took away their quality of life. Some were probably even institutionalized, too drugged up to perform magic. Medicate the alchemy right out of them.