The Fake Mind (Time Alchemist)

  The Fake Mind

  Book Four in the Time Alchemist Series

  By

  Allice Revelle

  Copyright 2014 © Allice Revelle

  Book Cover Art © Konradbak (Dreamstime.com)

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or represented fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  DEDICATION

  To you, who came this far. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

  CHAPTER 1

  The sound of blood flooding my ears was the only thing I heard; it was like my heart was trying to rip itself out of my chest. I gave out a startled yelp when the ground beneath my feet started shaking and swaying, like waves, and I crashed to my side hard. My whole body throbbed, leaving permanent bruises on my skin that wouldn’t fade away—maybe if I stopped getting my ass kicked so much it would have time to heal.

  It was like an earthquake. Impossible to steady myself, I stayed on the ground, pressing my body into the earth and gripping it best as I could, digging my nails into soft soil. The shaking stopped—for one heartbeat—and I found myself tossed into the air, heart stuck in throat. I landed in the exact same spot with such a crash that I saw little birds flying in my vision, tweeting a familiar but unfamiliar melody.

  I was seriously getting my ass kicked.

  “Had enough?” a rough, masculine voice called a couple yards away. It belonged to Christopher Nettles, head honcho of the Southern Black Crown Branch. A man probably in his late twenties or early thirties with pure, inky black hair swept so slick it looked like he washed it with

  oil. Even his training clothes—a long sleeved white shirt and gray sweatpants—looked pressed and clean without a hint of any sweat or dirt at all in this thirty minute session.

  The only real attribute to his “lessons” was the fact that his sweatpants were rolled up to his knees and he was barefoot—no doubt because of the dark green jagged Runes on his feet and heels. An Earth Alchemist. One of the most common alchemists of all next to water, air, and fire…but the most powerful I had ever come across.

  And he was so going easy on me. I had only witnessed Christopher’s powers twice, and I knew with no doubt that if he wanted to split the earth where I stood and swallow me whole.

  It was the first time in my two weeks of training at the Black Crown’s headquarters that Christopher had volunteered to spar. Though it ached at first, I had long become used to the bruises and calluses—

  thanks to previous morning practices I took at school with a….certain someone. I may not be as strong physically, but I had more confidence that I could hold my own when a dangerous situation came. I was taught to rely more on my fists and self defense before my alchemy.

  I snapped to when the Runes etched on Christopher’s skin began to glow, and the ground beneath me started to sink in. Half digging, half crawling out of the rising sinkhole, I wanted nothing more than to wipe the stupid smirk off of Christopher’s face. But I knew it was exactly what

  he wanted me to do—just like those white coats standing safely behind the fence, scratching in their notebooks and murmuring to each other wanted, too.

  They wanted to see my alchemy.

  For almost two weeks I had managed to fake getting out of

  “showing it off”. It’s not like I didn’t want to use it—it was as much a part of me like my very own heart—but I had come here, at this vicinity, through…difficult situations.

  The good point: The Black Crown was, essentially, protecting me and my two other good friends from big bad alchemists who wanted to use our special powers for evil.

  The bad point: The Black Crown was treating us like little children locked up in time-out. And by that, I mean none of us—with only once exception—could leave if we really wished. Going so far as to hypnotize my dad and alter his memories so they could keep me here until school is just one of the many examples as how far the Black Crown was willing to keep their hold on me.

  And I didn’t like it. But at the moment, the Black Crown was the lesser of two evils. And I did sort of run away and fall into the hands of a pretty bad alchemist before…and I did sort of promise them (as a punishment) to start a training and studying program for the next few months.

  But you know? It was all worth it.

  A jagged piece of earth shot out in front of my face, barely kissing my nose and I let out a squeal. I gave a heated glare in Christopher’s direction, one which he gladly returned. I knew I was testing his patience thin—so much so that he had willingly volunteered to be the sparring mentor in today’s session. He was just as eager to study me, keep me under his control like most of the Black Crown. “For my protection?” I didn’t believe him. Not for a bit.

  After all the trouble I had caused him, I think he was more determined to discipline me…so that I didn’t go rogue, or change sides.

  Like this was some stupid movie where the heroine had a choice to go Light or Dark, and the Light side was grasping at straws, terrified to lose the Key to Saving the World and Happy Ever Afters.

  I felt a rumbling heat expand in my chest and I ran toward Christopher with all the strength I had, dodging newly formed juts and narrowly missing holes and rocks. Of course, Christopher didn’t even have to move an inch when a large earth wall shot up from the ground right between us, and my flying fist hit it with such force all the bones in my arm sang.

  Before I could howl in protest, a bell went off somewhere. One of the white coats was waving their arms, signaling that my training time was up for the day. Thanks to the Black Crown’s Spartan-like training, I

  focused three full hours (not side by side, thank god) solely on fighting and defense moves, normally sparring against other alchemists like Christopher, or people with different weapons, like switchblades or swords (my favorite).

  And not once had I shown them my true Alchemy—Time.

  I could go by and say how exhausted I was, faking illness, or just flat out lie and say that it comes and goes. It was like a tiny part of me felt like, once I showed them what they wanted, it would hammer the final nail in my coffin.

  I heard Christopher sigh from the other side of the earth wall, and then it just crumbled at my feet, as well as the other crooked slants of earth, and the sinkhole swelled back into its original solid form. “You call this progress, Miller?”

  I knew he was angry, so I didn’t bother to respond.

  “When are you going to stop toying around and get serious with your training?” he huffed on. “You may not be here by choice, but while you’re under this roof you will follow my rules and you will take this seriously.”

  “I am taking it seriously!” I protested. “I’m just not a rat you can examine under a microscope!”

  “Since when have we treated you like that?” he shot back. “You may be here under a different circumstance, but when are you going to

  grow up and realize we’re here trying to help you, Miller? You’ve got one hell of a power inside of you, and it’s about time you learned how to use it.”

  “I can use it just fine,” I said weakly. “And this training is helping, just…” It’s just not the same without him… “I can’t stand being looked at like a test subject. I can’t think under pressure like that.”

  It was lame, but it was true. I used my Time alchemy only for training and fighting. Nothing more, and nothing less. And I honestly did feel like there was nothing the Black Crown could really do for my alchemy—it was all a matter of my own heart, concentration
, and skill. I had improved vastly since nine months ago when I first “awakened” as an alchemist. Back then, I could barely manage to pause time for a full five seconds. Now? I could stop a bullet right in its tracks. I could jump out a fourth floor window and slow my fall so I didn’t hurt myself.

  But it only relied on me, nobody else.

  Christopher sighed next to me, the same kind of sigh that adults gave around spoiled little teenagers. I was surprised when he waved away the group of white coats, and the filled back inside the gray doors that lead to Black Crown’s main Southern headquarters, leaving Christopher and I out in the spacious back lot that was used for heavy practicing. All sides of the lot were surrounded by Black Crown buildings, so that prying eyes wouldn’t see magically growing bits of

  earth protruding out of the ground, or invisible hands lifting people to their feet by Wind alchemists.

  Taking another breath, Christopher planted his feet firmly on the ground. I watched in awe as the Runes glowed softly, and a wide earth wall formed about twenty feet away from us. Christopher bent down and picked up two solid looking rocks, tossing one my way.

  “We’ll have a little competition,” he said, “No witnesses. No cameras. Just the two of us. I want to see your alchemy in action, Miller.

  No matter how small. You may not think so, but every person’s alchemy represents them in some shape or way. A Fire alchemist is easily capable of burning a forest down, but its how they use it that shows us what their true ‘heart’ is like. Do they take the easy way and simply light the entire forest on fire with one shot? Do they start at the edge and creep along, encouraging the flames to spread, and watch the forest slowly burn? Or can they easily set one tree ablaze without getting a single ember on the neighboring trees? That, Miller, is how easy and difficult alchemy can be. An alchemist shapes their alchemy; not the other way around.”

  “So basically, ‘with great power comes great responsibilities?’”

  “Exactly.” With a nod of his head, Christopher positioned himself and I backed up. Then, with one flick of his arm, he tossed the rock towards the wall. However, it barely soared a fourth of the way when it

  started falling—and a piece of earth popped up, bouncing the rock back up into the air. This continued until the rock slammed into the earth wall.

  “Do you see? I could have easily used my alchemy to make the rock go through the wall—after all, rock is a part of earth—but to tone my skills, I try to think outside of the box. Why go the easy way when I can make a little game out of it?”

  “Are you sure you aren’t just showing off?” I felt a grin on my face, delighted to see Christopher smile back. He motioned me forward.

  I felt the rock’s hard surface press into my hand, and I glanced from it to the wall, thinking.

  Why not have a little fun with it?

  I took a breath, then with as much force as I could tossed the rock in the air. I wrapped my Time around it, and stopped it, frozen in midair.

  Then, with a flick of my head, I shot it forward—paused it—rolled it along in slow motion—paused it again—over and over, like a circus performer who didn’t know when to quit—until it landed nice and safe on the very top of the earth wall.

  It wasn’t much, but it was…fun. I never really thought of using my alchemy for something so trivial, but it really felt like a lot of energy had rolled off my shoulders.

  Christopher clapped slowly behind me with a grin, and I grinned

  back. In seconds the earth wall shattered, and he motioned me towards the doors.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow for our next session, Miller.”

  And, for the first time since the Black Crown walked into my life, I was actually looking forward to them.

  CHAPTER 2

  My name is Emery Miller. I’m a sixteen years old (I’ll be turning seventeen in just a month), soon-to-be junior at St. Mary’s Academy and, if you haven’t guessed it: I’m an alchemist. An Alchemist of Time.

  According to the Crown of the Black Order (aka the Black Crown), I’m part of a new category of alchemists. E-Alchemist—short for Extraordinary Alchemist. It’s actually kinda cool. I’m a one in a million (in the alchemy world), but thankfully, I’m not the only one.

  Like the small sixteen year old girl sitting next to me in the car, her strawberry blonde hair tied together in purple colored ribbons. She always wore cute, lacy dresses, and she gave off the air of someone you just wanted to cuddle and protect. If you didn’t bother to notice the black eye patch over her right eye, Chrysanthemum (who goes by Chrys) Blackwell was as normal as normal could be.

  “I was really surprised when Professor Metz volunteered to be the test subject,” Chrys said, her one cobalt blue eye shining. “But now it gets easier to actually get into someone’s dreams. Though I think I might have pressed a little too far…but did you know Professor Metz has

  a crush on Mr. Cruz?”

  “No way,” I gaped, suppressing a giggle. “You mean the lunch guy? The one who has the lazy eye and always smells like week old meatloaf?”

  “I kid you not!” Chrys grinned in reply. “She was totally dreaming about him.”

  Chrys was an E-Alchemist like me, except she could control Dreams. Sometimes Memories, give or take a few details. Of course, it was only good when she was asleep, but Chrys could use her alchemy to literally hop from dream to dream, using that means as a method of communication in tight spots. But it took a lot of energy out of her—just like mine used too—and often she would be drained, having to rest the entire day. But now with this new training program it looks like she’ll be able to get a hang of it.

  “I really don’t understand why it’s such a big deal that Professor Metz likes some guy at work,” a voice from the passenger’s seat said, and I saw a familiar dark head peering over his shoulder with a quizzical look on his face. “If she likes him, why doesn’t she say something?”

  Chrys blushed a hundred shades of red, and I had to bite my own lip to keep from laughing. In only two weeks Chrys had developed a massive crush on our newest friend, and fellow E-Alchemist: Oliver Benton.

  Oliver was a guy of few words, and for a good reason: his alchemy revolved around Voice, or Sound. Whatever he said, if he willed it, he could control anyone around him with any command though it varies (according to him). Oliver was the oldest of the group, at only eighteen, and the only one here who really had a choice of staying or going.

  Because he was an “adult” by the Black Crown’s rules, they had no right to keep him “prisoner”, like Chrys or I. But in Chrys’s case, she and her adoptive family had been a part of the Black Crown for her whole life, so I don’t think she really feels like she’s being treated like a prisoner.

  What makes the three of us so “Extraordinary” is that our alchemy—Time, Dream, Voice—all fall way out of balance with the four basic elements: fire, water, air, and earth. They are the most common alchemist you will ever find (like Christopher, for example). Of course, there are alchemists that have cores that fall in one of the groups. For example, an Ice alchemist stems from the water group, or an Iron alchemist from the earth.

  Then there were other special alchemists. If I had to explain, it’s like a pyramid: the four basic elements on the bottom—the largest section—and above them the lesser elements (like Ice and Water), and above that, a small percentage of stranger alchemy that only fell in people who belonged to the Blood-Borne class (basically pureblooded alchemists). Kind of like…blood, or bone, or glass.

  And then, at the very top, was us: the E-Alchemists. But what made our cases even stranger was that none of us had any remote connection to the world of alchemy. We didn’t grow up in an alchemic community (like the Black Crown, for example). We didn’t come from a family of alchemists, and like a good percentage of the rest of the world, we grew up unaware of our alchemic core—a core that every single person is born with that holds our alchemy.

  In actuality: we were all killed, but revived by alchemy, tr
iggering our core to awaken, and gave us all a bizarre, but deadly power that has never been seen before in the history of alchemy.

  Which is why some people want us specifically for that power.

  Dead or alive. We were freaks of nature, but we were all freaks together.

  Besides, it was pretty cool to be different.

  The car pulled up to a small one story house. The large magnolia tree, already in full bloom, swayed gently in the summer air. We all clamored out, our bodies tired from training and our minds deflated from the enormous amount of studying we had to do, just as the front door came open. Out came a plump woman whom we all affectingly referred to as Frankie Ann. She was a Tracker of the Black Crown: one who keeps records of all alchemists and their locations. She was also serving as our house keeper for the time being. Apparently, even though the Black Crown owned a couple of large buildings in the downtown

  area, it was all mainly research only. No housing. Fine by me.

  “Welcome home, dears!” Frankie Ann crooned, wiping flour covered hands on her apron. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes!”

  I smiled. Despite some bad things, Frankie Ann was one of the few things that were really good about the Black Crown. She was like a warm and fuzzy aunt, always smelling of flowers or freshly baked cookies, and kept her shoulder clear in case you needed one to cry on.

  She always joked how she was just a glamorized secretary of the Black Crown, but I could tell she enjoyed her job. And right now, she was in charge of babysitting six unruly teenage alchemists!

  “I’m going to take a quick nap.” Chrys yawned, shuffling into the tiny house with Oliver in tow. I looked at Frankie Ann, about to ask her something when she smiled and pointed to the back yard. “She’s out back, hun.”

  I shot her a grateful look and scurried around back, passing a heavy tabby cat on the way. The backyard was tiny, and really, half of it was consumed by a covered garage and a rusty tool shed. There was one tiny stick of a tree in the corner (not worth a climb, though I think even the big cat could break it in half if he attempted it). But right next to the backdoor was a hanging chair, big enough for three people to squeeze in.