Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2)

by Kimbro West

  “Brigand!” yelled Odin, pointing his finger at Auren as he passed by.

  “It’s okay, Odin, that’s Ghislain’s son — my best friend,” said Ethan, annoyed. “You know … Auren!”

  “Well, where’s he off to then?” asked Odin.

  “Oh, he doesn’t travel well; he’s probably going to throw up in some petunias somewhere,” replied Ethan with a chuckle.

  “He’s gonna what?”

  “He’s gonna go — never mind, Odin. Look, we need to get you a replacement as urgently as possible. We’re going to King’s Point and you are staying here.”

  A brief silence followed, and then Odin went right back to work on Ethan. “I will be going to King’s Point. If you think I am some kind of babysitter for the Oroborus you have another thought coming to ya!”

  “Odin—”

  “You may call me Odin the Mighty,” he insisted.

  “Odin, I don’t have time for this. If you leave you will go even crazier than you already are. You are binded, and could die if you don’t stay in this hut until I get a replacement! Besides, you gave me strict instruction—” Ethan was quickly interrupted.

  “I can’t die — I’m invincible!” blurted Odin, his voice carrying out into the market district.

  Ethan thought for a moment and decided to encourage this new side of Odin. “What would happen if someone tried to come and take the Oroborus? What if Xivon himself comes here to try and steal this creature to use for evil? Can you live with that?”

  “You can’t steal an Oroborus — can you? I mean … hmm … maybe the enemy has found a way.” Odin thought for a moment. “You may be right, Ethan. After all, one assassin has already been here — why go looking for a fight if it will eventually come to me?”

  Ethan smiled slightly as his own clever plan insinuated itself into Odin’s mind. It was as if Ethan could practically see the bold caretaker imagining a glorious battle inside the alchemist hut.

  Just then Auren pushed the door open and walked back into the room. The color in his face was returning as he crammed a meat pie into his mouth. Ethan shook his head at the spectacle. After the sick feeling he had gotten from Odin binding with the Oroborus, the thought of anything food-related turned his stomach. He wondered how a boy could throw up so much, just to stuff his face moments later.

  “What’s that sword sticking in the floor for?” mumbled Auren. He shoved the last bit of pie in his mouth and grabbed the sword handle with both hands. He was getting ready to pull it out of the floor when he saw anger mounting in Odin’s eyes.

  “Get your meat mitts off my sword, boy!” yelled Odin, his voice once again echoing out the windows and into the streets.

  Auren instantly let go of the sword and held his hands in the air.

  Ethan, not wanting any further arguments from the aggressive version of Odin, motioned Auren toward the doorway. “I know some part of you might be scared, Odin,” began Ethan.

  “Scared? Don’t insult me with such nonsense,” shouted Odin.

  Ethan ignored the crass response and continued. “Just know that I will do everything I can to get a replacement here. I know you sacrificed a lot to bind with Dimon — we won’t let you down.”

  Odin stood behind his sword, which remained stuck in the floor of the alchemist hut. His hands at his side, he was speechless.

  “We’ll be off then,” said Ethan kindly.

  “Yes … I suppose you would. Be brave,” replied Odin sincerely.

  Ethan nodded, turned and followed Auren out of the hut.

  Chapter 4

  Mortuus Manus

  As evening settled in, Ethan thought the bustling in the market district would settle down. Instead it brought a different crowd, as the sun started to set behind the high stone walls of Tirguard. Not only were there people waiting at carts that served meat pies and desserts, but carts serving ale also had lines of worry-free, intoxicated Tirguardians wrapping around the street corner. The crowd was so thick it was difficult to walk in front of some of the more popular shops, such as Lippy’s. Music could be heard from many street corners, as if a celebration were going on. Lanterns were lit down the cobblestone street, giving off a soft glow for the cheerful patrons.

  Overall, Ethan was surprised at the transformation that had occurred in the market district, now that the Curse was no longer in effect. Local businesses were booming as they attracted new customers through the Oroborus. He had even overheard Availia mention that her parents were complaining about all the new traders giving the Tanbe family some stiff competition.

  As fresh carts rolled by the front of the hut, Auren felt his stomach growling again. Feeling that stuffing his face with a meat pie was an unsatisfactory means to fill his belly, he felt compelled to speak up. “I’m still hungry,” complained Auren. “Can we stop at Lippy’s?”

  “There’s just too many people — you can’t even get to the front door!” argued Ethan. “Besides, we don’t have time to stop — we have to get to Edison. He’ll know the fastest way to King’s Point.” Ethan started to go but suddenly stopped in his tracks.

  “What is it?” groused Auren, agitated.

  “Not that it’s a big deal — just realized that I was expecting to have Loki with me on the trip back here. He would like this place, I think … and now we don’t even have a cat at all. What if he’s not better by next year — you know, with training and all that?”

  Auren knew that Loki was very important to Ethan, as he was the family pet and had been around since Ethan was little. “Sorry about your cat, Ethan. I think he’ll be—”

  “STOP RIGHT THERE!” yelled a very satisfied youth captain. Impeded by the crowd of people was Marcus Grenwise, his cronies and a large growling dog at the end of a leash. “OFFICIAL GUARD BUSINESS — MOVE IT PEOPLE!” bellowed Marcus as the patrons took the liberty of creating distance between themselves and the angry wardog being restrained by Marcus.

  “What could you possibly want this time, Marcus, don’t you ever get sick of this?” snapped Auren.

  “I get to detain you both. What do you think of that, you big dumb oaf?” sneered Marcus, releasing his wardog.

  “What?!” exclaimed Ethan, putting his hands out in a useless attempt at protecting himself.

  Auren, realizing that Ethan did not have his alchemy jacket, stepped out in front of his friend. He concentrated on protecting himself and Ethan, but the jacket did not react. He tried again, focusing his efforts on commanding the jacket to harden, but again, nothing happened. He braced for the impact of the large, slobbering dog, but suddenly another flash came from the window of the hut. This was enough to distract the dog momentarily, and it halted in its tracks.

  “BRIGAND!” yelled a muffled but familiar voice inside the hut. The door popped open just enough to let a chubby black and white cat amble her way out to waddle down the staircase. She sniffed the air for food, closing her eyes to better sample the myriad of aromas wafting past.

  “Hey! It’s the fat one!” exclaimed Auren, chuckling. He stayed on his guard as Wegnel’s cat approached the wardog.

  The fat cat’s belly wobbled from side to side as she waltzed up to the dog and sniffed its large black nose. The dog snuffled and jerked his head backward, confused as to what to do with the obstacle.

  “Is this the cat I’ve heard so much about?” snickered Marcus. He and his cronies pointed and laughed at the chubby cat, who was snorting while cleaning her front paw. “It’s as fat as your face, Auren!”

  “Was enough to stop that dumb dog of yours though, wasn’t she?” taunted Auren.

  Marcus stopped laughing. Afraid that his followers were now laughing at him, he gave his dog a chilling command. “Brutus … kill!” he ordered. Even his followers stopped snickering due to the harsh order.

  The dog started growling and displayed his sharp white teeth. The hair on the wardog’s back stood up menacingly as he focused on the first target at hand, Ivy.

  “Knock it off, Marcus!” yelled Etha
n, livid.

  But it was too late. The wardog charged, baring his teeth, trying to catch the chubby middle of the black and white cat. To everyone’s surprise, Ivy stood nimbly on her rear paws and leaped at the dog’s face. Her claws extended viciously and stuck directly in the dog’s nose. He howled and yelped while trying to back up, dragging the cat with him. Ivy retracted her claws, deciding to release her foe. The dog awkwardly tried to approach her again as she sat, paying scant attention to the canine. She started licking her paw industriously. The dog could not figure out from what angle to approach so he howled in frustration, looking back at Marcus and then at the fat cat.

  “Well?! Sick ‘em already!” yelled Marcus. Several ale-drinking patrons were starting to pay attention to the scene unfolding, and began to laugh at the pathetic attack of Marcus’ foolish dog.

  “I think he’s afraid, Marcus. What do you think, Ethan?” asked Auren, chuckling derisively.

  “I think Wegnel wasn’t lying about this cat,” answered Ethan.

  Ivy finished cleaning her paw and was now ready to deal with the dog on her own terms. She stalked back toward the wardog and pounced wildly. The besieged dog turned, tail between his legs, and bolted down the street before she could sink her claws in again.

  “Renkins, go get my dog!” ordered Marcus. A tall blond boy darted down the street after the cowardly dog.

  Marcus drew his sword, and Auren quickly drew his as well. The rest of Marcus’ followers drew their swords. Ethan took a deep breath and stepped forward, next to Auren. He relaxed and with a steady hand drew the sword from the scabbard at his waist. The followers that stood behind Marcus started to back away.

  “The fire sword,” whispered one boy in awe. “I thought he couldn’t use it….”

  “I didn’t sign up for this,” said another hysterically as he turned to run.

  The others in Marcus’ gang sheathed their swords before sprinting down the street in the same direction as Marcus’ dog. Marcus stood alone in the cobblestone street as crowds of people filled the gap between him and the young alchemists.

  “This isn’t over,” stated Marcus, turning to follow his friends.

  “Looks like it is,” responded Ethan, putting away his sword and releasing a deep breath.

  “I concur,” added Auren, also putting away his sword. “How were you able to draw that thing?”

  “It only seems to get hot when I’m upset, or scared. I thought if I could calm myself down enough, I could hold onto it. Besides, there’s a load of green goop inside the hut if it didn’t work — I figured, what the heck.”

  Auren smiled, happy the gamble had paid off. Ethan leaned over to pet the cat, who seemed relatively pleased to be in the market. “Ivy, what are you doing here anyways?”

  “Let’s bring her with us! Not exactly an alpha — but solves our cat training problem,” said Auren with amusement.

  “Yeah — wanna come along, girl?”

  The cat snorted and rolled around on the cobblestone street. She then got to her feet, walked in a circle and stood ready to follow the boys.

  “Okay, let’s go then,” said Ethan. He quickened his pace through the bustling streets. Auren reluctantly ignored his growling stomach, trudging along not far behind. Wegnel’s alchemy-trained cat was, in fact, much more nimble than she appeared, and easily kept up with the boys.

  They rounded the corner and had nearly reached the academy when a red-haired burly man stopped them on the sidewalk. His eyes were adorned with thick, bushy red brows which were raised with interest at spotting the boys.

  “Aye, ye thaur — wonderin’ if yer th’ wee lads bein’ under Edison Rupert?” asked the man.

  He seemed friendly enough, even with a large broadsword strapped to his waist. Ethan noticed he was wearing something similar to an alchemy jacket.

  “Who’s askin’?” challenged Auren, still hungry and becoming irritable.

  “Arenae ye a wee small laddie ‘en, eh?” the man jested.

  “Wee? What do mean, wee?” Auren grew quite upset as he looked down at himself, trying to figure out what the burly man was talking about.

  “Weel … ah dunnae kinn whit Edison’s gonnae oan abit, yoo’re nae big et all!” replied the man with a smirk.

  “Um … who are you?” asked Ethan, politely.

  “Och, aam sorry — name is Keavy. Edison tauld me ah micht be findin’ ye headin’ over.”

  “Professor Keavy?” asked Ethan.

  “Aye,” answered Keavy.

  “Can you take us to Edison? We need to see him right away,” exclaimed Ethan.

  “Nae, ye cannae be thaur noo, they’re lookin’ fur ye,” declared the man in a loud whisper.

  “Who’s looking for ye? I mean … us. Who’s looking for us?” Ethan inquired.

  Professor Keavy appeared momentarily surprised as he looked just beyond Ethan and Auren. Ethan was about to turn when a shrill voice rang out.

  “Well, I … am, of course,” announced Heinrich triumphantly. Marcus stood slightly behind his Captain, with several other members of the Guard closing in. The youth captain was extremely pleased with himself, yet in the presence of Heinrich, contained his feelings much better than Ethan would have expected.

  Keavy put his hand on the hilt of his broadsword. “Mah nam is Keavy … nice tae meit ye all oan thes fine day.”

  “I don’t care who … you … are — but more importantly, I … am Captain of the Guard.”

  “Weel, fur th’ size of yer beak, ye ooght tae hae some redeemin’ quality, ah guess Captain ought tae do,” replied Keavy smartly.

  Auren chuckled, but Ethan looked worried that Keavy’s comments might send Heinrich into a demented rage. An uncomfortably silent moment followed.

  Heinrich walked up to Keavy and faced him nose to nose. The two stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other, before Heinrich raised his hand and pointed. “Take those two,” he commanded. He turned to face Ethan and Auren. “You’re being detained as suspects for the murder of one Wegnel MacArthur.”

  “WHAT?!” exclaimed both boys.

  “You can’t be serious?” argued Ethan incredulously.

  “You two were the last ones to use the Oroborus before MacArthur was stabbed with a thin double-edged blade … like this one.” Heinrich grabbed Ethan’s sword while another guard snatched Auren’s weapon. Heinrich fastened the fire sword to his waist and smiled at Ethan as Marcus and the guards led the young alchemists toward the castle. “You’d better watch your mouth — next time I’ll have you too,” Heinrich hissed at Keavy. He bumped shoulders with the barrel-chested man as he walked past, aiming to show his superiority. The attempt failed, as the burly man did not budge and Heinrich ended up stumbling awkwardly.

  “Dornt ye think on it, wee laddies … I’ll gie Edison an’ weel gie ye out.”

  ***

  The Castellan paced around the shelves of books in his study. He leaned forward and pulled out a tattered book, examined the title and pushed it back into place. The room was cluttered but calming. Small antiques were displayed like trophies on top of a dark wooden mantle. Decorative swords were mounted on the walls adjacent to a great wooden desk. A quill was left abandoned in a heavy silver inkwell, next to a small pile of unsigned paperwork. The Castellan looked at his hand, checked his nails with limited satisfaction and then tapped them impatiently on his desk.

  “Hmph,” he grumbled. Suddenly a light knock on the door alerted him. “Yes, yes, come in,” said the Castellan hastily.

  The door swung open. Two guards entered and stood at either side of the doorway. Heinrich pushed Ethan and Auren into the study with utmost satisfaction.

  “At your request, Castellan,” announced Heinrich with a slight bow.

  “Fine then,” stated the Castellan, dismissively. “You know why you’re here?” he asked as he again tapped his fingers atop his desk.

  “We didn’t murder anyone,” said Ethan sharply.

  Focusing again on his manicure, the Cast
ellan feigned little interest in any explanation offered. “Yet my Captain tells me otherwise. He claims you were the last one with MacArthur before his untimely demise,” replied the Castellan coolly.

  “We travelled home, to get Ethan’s cat — we were on break!” exclaimed Auren.

  “Yet my Captain also tells me that the wound matches this sword,” he added, snatching Ethan’s sword from Heinrich.

  “There are loads of swords the same shape!” argued Auren, motioning to the fire sword.

  “And we saw Wegnel fall on the other side, several minutes after both of us arrived,” added Ethan indignantly.

  “Well, where is your cat?” snapped the Castellan.

  “My what?”

  “Your cat … Loki, is it? You just said you went to get him. Where … is he?” murmured the Castellan in a sinister voice, finally revealing interest in Ethan’s forthcoming reply.

  Ethan looked at Auren and back at the Castellan. “He’s sick….”

  “LIES!” screamed the Castellan. His face contorted as he slammed his fist on the desk. “The lies pile up, don’t they? But I discovered your hidden room — found a missing artifact to remedy this little situation and regain control over the famous Orobori that’s come to Tirguard. I do grow tired of you causing me all this trouble.” The Castellan tossed the sword back to Heinrich.

  “What hidden room?”

  “Did you, or did you not, volunteer in the records department earlier this year? Did you not also create some alchemist secret room there?” asked the Castellan angrily.

  “We didn’t create any secret room,” exclaimed Auren.

  “We’ll see about that,” snapped the Castellan. He snatched a bracelet that was sitting on the desk. It was black and had dual snakes wrapping around to form the band. “‘Mortuus Manus,’” he read aloud. He seized Ethan’s arm and clasped the bracelet onto the young alchemist’s wrist.

  The bracelet tightened itself flush against Ethan’s skin. He felt strange, as if he were nearly invincible. His veins turned pale, and then slightly grey.

  “What are you doing?!” exclaimed Ethan, attempting to jerk his wrist away.