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

by Kimbro West

  “It’s been a big treat havin’ Auren here — don’t get too much company ya know. Oh, where’s my manners — you want a glass of water or something?”

  “Um … sure,” answered Ethan. He was promptly handed a glass of water and took a small sip.

  “Not to mention Ivy here — haven’t seen her in a long time. We binded when she was just a little kitten — been keeping an eye on Wegnel ever since. I always wanted to bind with the Oroborus … just hoped Wegnel would retire.” She put her hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about Wegnel, hun — he was a bit of a loon, but still the most successful at binding with an Oroborus. I can only hope it will go as good for me.”

  “Ivy’s yours?” asked Auren, chuckling.

  “Well, she doesn’t belong to anyone — cats are sorta like that.”

  “If you were bound to Ivy — did you see what happened to Wegnel?” asked Ethan, intently.

  “No I didn’t — little Ivy here wasn’t on that side of the Oroborus. I only sensed something was wrong the same time you boys did. Time is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

  “Time?”

  “Well, yes — haven’t you boys been going to that alchemy academy?” sassed Abbey. “In the moments during MacArthur’s assault, his wound turned more serious. That wound somehow traces its way through time and space and is compressed into a short burst for Wegnel. If MacArthur were to prick his finger, Wegnel wouldn’t even notice because it would compress into practically nothing. But if MacArthur took an arrow through the hand … well, Wegnel would notice,” snorted Abbey.

  Ethan lifted his hand to examine it. He moved it a little, despite the ache, and felt the familiar goop inside the bandage. He was now accustomed to dealing with the mystery goop and decided not to bother asking about it.

  “You’re lucky,” informed Abbey. “Whoever shot you, hit you right through the middle of your alchemy symbol — trying to take away some of your power I assume. A real marksman too — maybe even responsible for the attack on MacArthur. Only a highly skilled assassin … or an absolute idiot, would enter the hut of an Oroborus and attempt to kill the alchemist bound to it.”

  “Why’s that?” asked Auren, now plopped down in a chair, paging through the Losalfarian creature book.

  Abbey pushed the book down from Auren’s nose. “You like creatures, eh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You should study the Oroborus — most interesting creature of all time — here before all of us — could take you out in a second if it wanted to. Have you ever seen Cabra?”

  “What’s a Cabra?” asked Auren.

  “It’s the other Oroborus — the one you don’t want to run into. It’s a vile and evil version of Dimon — the two are playing some kind of mystical chess game. That’s what all this is about.”

  “Game?” asked Auren.

  “Well, I declare … you boys don’t have an astronomy teacher either? What in the world are they teaching you at that academy anyways? Well, I supposed you’re only going into your second year —”

  “Edison is a history professor,” interrupted Ethan. “But, why would we need to know astronomy?”

  Abbey huffed and snorted. “Oh dear … I guess I can tell you the story Mum used to tell me. A long time ago a great and noble Oroborus named Dimon circled the galaxy that housed our lovely planet. He looked over us, protected us. People of all kinds and even on different worlds looked up to him in the night sky in wonder … until one event changed everything. Another galaxy collided with our own. The opposing galaxy had its own Oroborus, Cabra, guarding it. The two galaxies formed a new, larger galaxy with Dimon and Cabra chasing each other in an endless circle. To settle their differences and end the stalemate, they decided to play a great Game. They changed to physical form and started playing — the board was our worlds — the pieces were us … well, Ethan … for sure.”

  Auren put down his book and leaned forward. Listening intently, his eyes fixated on the female alchemist, enamored with the story of the Oroborus. “Well … and…? What happened next?” begged Auren. Ivy jumped up on the back of Auren’s chair and lay down — there was not quite enough room for her entire body, so one front leg and one rear leg dangled down the back.

  “That’s it, really … I mean, from what I remember. Once the Curse of Silence was placed on everyone the story wasn’t told since, well … since shortly after Ethan was born,” said the plump alchemist.

  “So you were around for the Curse then?” asked Auren, still leaning forward.

  “Yes, I most certainly was — how old do I look? You sure know how to make a lady blush, Auren,” she snorted.

  “Well … I was, yeah…,” stuttered Auren.

  “I was still a young girl when the Curse happened.”

  “So what was it like?” asked Auren intently. “I mean, what happened? How did you know you were cursed?”

  “That, I could never forget.” Her voice dropped to a grave whisper. “This booming voice, the voice of the Oroborus, came into my head. And not just a voice, but … fear — unlike any fear I’ve ever experienced. The voice told us to never speak of either Oroborus, Dimon or Cabra, unless we were part of the Game. I heard of people falling over dead for speaking about it … those were terrible times — evidently they weren’t a part of the Game.”

  “And what about you?” asked Ethan. “Are you part of the Game?”

  “I can’t say for sure … after the Curse came out, Mum stopped tellin’ us the stories and never mentioned it again. That made me want to be an alchemist — attracted to danger I guess. Anyhow, years later I trained to be one and moved here,” replied Abbey.

  “That’s incredible,” said Auren in awe.

  “So … what was the purpose of the Curse — I mean, do you know why it was put in place to begin with?” asked Ethan curiously.

  “I really don’t know for sure — rumors spread about that when I was training to be an alchemist, they mentioned something about natural ability — don’t have much need for rumors though,” she answered.

  “Natural ability?” muttered Ethan. “My father said we had to use our natural ability in the youth sword competitions … never taught us the sword….”

  “Is that so? Well, maybe next time I will pay more attention to the rumors,” grunted Abbey. She giggled and pushed the spectacles back up her nose.

  “Aaargghhh.” Ethan curled up and grabbed his stomach.

  “Hey sweetie, what’s the matter now?”

  “Stomach cramp — dunno, just a stomachache I think,” answered Ethan, sitting up now that the pain had subsided.

  “Well, you’ve been though a lot today, it’s not too surpri—”

  Just then an insistent rapping sounded on the door. The knock was so solid Ethan thought the door would burst open. Abbey put a finger over her lips for Ethan and Auren to be silent.

  “Open up, alchemist!” said a deep voice from outside.

  Abbey pointed to a staircase and motioned Ethan and Auren up. “I’m not expecting anyone,” she whispered. “Go upstairs, there’s a ladder that leads to the roof — best if you two aren’t seen out here.”

  “Open up, please,” asked another voice.

  The knocking became louder, rattling the door in its frame. “Open the door or we will open it for you!” yelled the first voice.

  The boys silently went up the stairs, climbed the ladder and opened a small hatch that led to the roof. They lay down, inching toward the edge of the roof to try and get a peek at the visitors.

  Abbey opened the door and two men pushed their way in. “We’re from the Order.” The men wore dark cloaks. The taller man wore an aged gold medallion around his neck and seemed rather displeased to be there. The shorter man wore a satin top hat with a purple band and a white feather sticking out the brim; he smiled at Abbey and stood politely to the side.

  “Well, then — no sense inviting you in, since you’re already here. What kind of business does the Order have with me?” snorted Abbey.

/>   Ivy, who was still sleeping on the back of the chair, also snorted as her hind leg twitched.

  “And what sect are you from?” asked the tall man sternly.

  “Well, are you going to introduce yourself?” snapped Abbey.

  The man stood and stared at her, his piercing eyes losing patience.

  “Your name?” insisted Abbey.

  “Williams,” he answered shortly.

  “Red Oak,” she replied. “And you?”

  “Gold Dust,” he answered snidely.

  Abbey looked over to the shorter man, who nodded graciously.

  “Sorry, ma’am — name is Lawrence Brenen — Regal Seas, ma’am,” replied Lawrence.

  “And is this an inspection or something? I have met many from the Order — haven’t seen you two before,” snorted Abbey.

  Williams walked over to the chair and looked Ivy over. She snorted on every exhale. His examination was quite thorough. He poked the cat’s belly, looking for a reaction.

  “Whose cat is this?” asked Williams, still examining the chubby feline.

  “Mine,” replied Abbey haughtily.

  “Looks an awful lot like Wegnel’s legendary feline,” he stated.

  Ivy’s leg continued to twitch as drool dripped down the back of the chair.

  “Hmm, perhaps I was mistaken,” conceded Williams. He adjusted his collar and turned his back on the plump cat. He refocused his attention on Abbey. “Do you have any contact with Wegnel MacArthur?”

  “I should say not,” replied Abbey, adjusting her spectacles. “I heard he was dead.”

  “Indeed,” snapped Williams. “Any plans to become the new alchemist to bind with the Oroborus named Dimon?”

  “Well, I would have to be a loon to sign up for that job. After what happened to poor old Wegnel, bless his heart — too much excitement for me — better things to do than wait for an assassin.”

  “I see…,” said Williams bluntly. “We’ll be paying you a visit again shortly. Don’t go too far from this…,” he looked around the structure, waving his hand about the small interior of the room, “…hut.” He nodded slightly and headed toward the door.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” said Lawrence as he tipped his hat before following Williams outside.

  “Likewise,” muttered Abbey.

  The two alchemists exited, inadvertently leaving the door cracked open as they took their leave. Abbey quickly secured the door. Ivy lifted her head and blinked her eyes at the Red Oak alchemist. Abbey patted the cat on the head before heading up the stairs.

  The second floor contained small, quaint living quarters. A cot, nightstand and squatty bookshelf made up the room. Abbey found a broom and knocked on the ceiling. The boys opened the hatch and jumped down. Auren went first so he could help Ethan, who only had the use of one hand.

  “What was that all about?” demanded Ethan.

  “That was nothing — just the Order checking up on me. I know they want to fill Wegnel’s spot with one of their Gold Dust alchemists — nonsense if they think they can usurp Wegnel’s choice for the job,” said Abbey snidely. “One thing is for certain … they’ll be back here again — not sure if they bought my little story of not replacing Wegnel.”

  “The Order?” asked Auren, intrigued.

  “Yes, the Alchemist’s Order — think they run everything ‘round here. Think they can tell alchemists how to conduct their own affairs,” hissed Abbey.

  “When do you think they’ll be back?” asked Ethan.

  “Not sure — but I don’t plan on hangin’ around to find out — besides, Auren tells me you have a stand-in that needs replacing. We’d best be moving on — already packed and ready to go.”

  Her house was indeed clear of any personal effects. She poured the contents of the vat into a vial, sniffed it, stuck a cork in the top and shoved it inside her jacket. She then picked up her pack and threw it over her shoulder. “I know a shortcut to Tirguard … you okay for a walk, Ethan?”

  Ethan nodded and the three alchemists headed out, followed by the chubby black and white cat.

  Chapter 9

  The Fisherboy

  Morning mist lingered around the verdant brush of the forest that encircled the three alchemists. A slight breeze invigorated the morning air as the scent of summer filled their noses. Dew, formed the night before, trickled down the green leaves that rested in the shadows. Ethan thought the main trail must be nearby, but was unsure as to what direction. Abbey seemed to have no problem guiding them through the woods while avoiding the thorny thicket.

  The Orobori was getting tired — his face was still slightly pale, and walking through a forest was not high on his list of priorities. Auren, seeing his friend struggling, took Ethan’s pack from him to ease the load. It was moderate effort for all three alchemists to make their way through the forest. Ivy, on the other hand, seemed delighted to be waddling through the woods as she had so many times before with Wegnel.

  They came to a path and Abbey motioned them to cross it instead of follow it. “Black Lake is this way — as soon as we see the lake we hang a left and then we should get to the shortcut rather quickly,” said Abbey.

  “I thought this was the shortcut,” complained Ethan.

  She looked over at Ethan, concerned. “Oh, hun, you hang in there — I know you’re going to struggle a bit — but I’ve seen a lot worse wounds than that. The worst is behind you. We’ll redress your hand when we get to Odin — until then, let me know if it begins to feel worse.”

  Ethan nodded and trudged on. His hand felt tight and sore, but he realized that it could have been much worse if Auren had not been able to break the torture arrow with his Losalfarian sword. Abbey’s recipe of green goop was healing his wound quickly. It was tingling and even giving off a mild itch. Ethan knew from Wegnel’s ramblings that the miracle paste was doing its job.

  Suddenly, the breeze picked up. The smell of moisture rode the air and Ethan knew they were close to the lake. They reached the edge of the forest and broke through a final row of thick underbrush. The lake was almost perfectly round from what Ethan could see. The dark, murky-looking water only stirred a bit in the breeze.

  Happy to be out of the woods, the three alchemists and the chubby feline took a left and followed the shoreline north. They came to a well-traveled path that Abbey turned onto. “Here, I think,” she said. She paused, spotting something up ahead. “But what do we have up here now?”

  Auren looked ahead and saw a small boy standing on the shore. He appeared to be fishing in the leaden waters. As they drew closer, Ethan got an eerie feeling from the spectral sight of the boy. He had a strange blue tint encompassing him. Everything about him had the same tinge, yet retained the underlying color — like he was wearing a membrane. Abbey was about to greet the boy when Auren jumped in front of her, covering her mouth with his hand.

  “Don’t say a word!” exclaimed Auren in a panic. He pushed Abbey to face the opposite direction of the fisherboy, and quickly did the same to Ethan.

  “What in the world are you doing?!” exclaimed Abbey loudly, wondering if the Faryndon boy was always this rude.

  “Yeah, Auren — what’s going on?” added Ethan.

  Abbey started to turn and face the fisherboy, but Auren pushed her back again. “Do not even look at him! Rules!” he exclaimed quietly. He dug in his pack and quickly pulled out the Losalfarian legendary creature book entitled ‘The Seven Legendary Creatures, Their Historical Significance and Their Known Attributes,’ which he had received from the Losalfarian library earlier that year.

  “Hey there!” yelled the fisherboy, noticing the three alchemists with their back to him. “I was wondering, can you help me for a second?”

  Ethan started to turn and face the boy, but Auren pushed him back toward the book. “Look,” whispered Auren urgently as he flipped through the pages. He found the one he wanted to reference and jabbed a finger at the page. “The Lake Hunter — ‘…known by its unmistakable blue-tinted tongue, whi
ch appears to its prey as a helpless boy. Potential victims have been known to get a few feet away from the boy and, as long as the boy goes ignored, the Lake Hunter will not attack.’”

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” giggled Abbey. She started to turn but Ethan leaned forward and stopped her progress.

  “Wait a second … look here,” added Ethan. “‘The Lake Hunter was last seen hunting in Black Lake. It abides by a set of rules. As long as you ignore the boy’s plea for help, you should be safe, as the Lake Hunter prefers to attack trusting souls.’” Ethan looked over at Auren. “You think that fisherboy is the Lake Hunter?”

  “Didn’t you notice something strange about him? The blue tint — I mean … looks weird, doesn’t it?”

  Abbey giggled and snorted. “You boys and your stories.”

  “No, Abbey, Auren knows his stuff — he’s been reading this book inside and out — surprised he hasn’t memorized it by now.”

  “I’m lost!” yelled the fisherboy. “I’ve been lost for days and can’t find my parents. Can you help me?” begged the boy. “Please, I’m scared!”

  Ethan was conflicted; the pleas from the boy pulled at his conscience. “Can’t just leave him though, Auren … I mean, can we?”

  “Have to,” replied Auren insistently.

  “We’re not leaving anyone — we’ll bring him back to Tirguard with us,” stated Abbey.

  “No,” argued Auren, who was getting visibly upset. “The book clearly states—”

  “Where did you get that book anyways?” snipped Abbey, starting to lose patience as her portly face turned red.

  “The Library of Truth,” said both Ethan and Auren.

  “From Losalfar,” added Auren. “We know anything that is in this book is true — you have to trust me,” he pleaded.

  A surprised look came over Abbey. “Oh my,” she snorted. “You two get around, don’t you now. Although I don’t feel right in leaving the boy here, the fact that you’ve been to Losalfar, to the Library of Truth — I trust in your judgment, Auren. It may be difficult, but given our current need to replace Odin quickly, we’ll ignore the boy.”