The Fake Eye (Time Alchemist) Page 16

  Dove insisted that she go first, so I held the flashlight in shaking hands as she grasped the doorknob. After a pause and a breath, she nudged the door open slowly, until we stepped firmly inside The Sun and Moon Library.

  It was…beautiful. Though it wasn’t as big as the St. Mary’s library, it had its own little charm. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, and about half a dozen or so shelves were stacked neatly right in the middle of the room. I could just smell the old book smell that sent my toes curling.

  The high windows made it a little easier to see, though it was dim with pale moonlight. Glancing to my left, I saw a wide staircase right in the very middle of the room that led up to the second floor, which had a wind around balcony that gave me a perfect view of the shelves up above. There was an occasional banner, or even a pretty statue up top, and I could just imagine myself curling up in one of the cozy chairs by the beams and reading a good history book.

  But if there was one thing I noticed, it was dead quiet.

  A little too quiet.

  “We’ll split up,” Dove whispered in my ear, “I’ll take the second floor, you stay down here.”

  “Got it.”

  “There’s something about this that’s…off. I can’t place it, but please be careful, alright?”

  I nodded. “I will. You too.”

  Dove gave a firm nod, then crept up to the second floor in soundless footsteps. I glanced around nervously, wishing I could tag along, but told myself to get over it and stuck to the walls. With my flashlight ready as a weapon, I peered into every open room, scanning for any sort of life. I peeped under the mahogany checkout counter, some scattered tables and chairs, and through every shelf and even did a double take once more. Occasionally, I could hear the very faint pitter patter of Dove’s steps from above—no doubt having as much luck as I was.

  I hugged the wall and searched around a third time—and my light catches an old, old looking fireplace. It’s hole is gated up (no doubt as a safety precaution), but it looked insanely cozy in my head—sitting in a plush chair by a fire, sipping on hot chocolate and munching on a sandwich or cookies.

  I highly doubted anyone was inside the tiny fireplace, but I went over to look, glaring the light into the hole, but it was cold and empty. The fireplace looked as if it had been built almost a hundred years ago, and I marveled at how it was kept in such good condition all these years. My hand brushed over the top of the mantel, feeling the rough texture of the brick—until the flashlight slipped from my other hand causing my to jump…and knock against the very edge of the fireplace.

  I felt a piece land hard just inches from my foot, its sound echoing in the still as a tomb library and I held my breath.

  I had just broken an ancient, priceless (I’m assuming) fireplace. This was ten times scarier than getting a B- on my chemistry report. If this wasn’t a rescue mission I would be screaming at how stupid I was!

  Nervously, I picked up the loose brick, wincing at how it was almost cracked in half and tried to shove it back into place. But it was like it was stuck on something and wouldn’t fit just right—until I saw the edge of something sticking out from where the brick was.

  I stared, catching my breath. The brick wasn’t knocked out (well, it was, but, you get what I mean)—it was supposed to be loose. Balancing the brick and the light in one hand, I gingerly reached into the hole, feeling the edge of something hard, but also lumpy and soft. I reached in a little farther only to pull out a bundle wrapped in gray cloth, tied together in twine.

  I could only stare from the brick in my right hand, to the book in my left, and the gaping black hole in the fireplace.

  I had just discovered a secret compartment. And then when I realized, if somebody was going to hide a priceless alchemic text, they wouldn’t leave it out in the obvious, right? They’d literally hide it—right in plain sight!

  Slowly, like my limbs were connected to strings, I pushed the half-broken brick back into place, though it was a little crooked, and unwrapped the package.

  There was a bit of dust that I choked back, waving the air in front of me until I dropped the gray blanket on the ground. In my hands was a solid black cover of a book; its pages so yellow and old that just one touch sent a corner crumbling to dust. It was filled with a language I couldn’t understand—but had seen at one point in my life.

  This was Guinevere’s book.

  Heart racing, I carefully, carefully flipped through the pages as best as I could without ripping anything. And sure enough, I came across a spot where the remainders of torn edges were, probably the result of someone ripping out a least a dozen pieces of the paper.

  This was it. I had found it!

  I gasped, feeling my heart race up like a cloud. “Do—”

  A high pitched scream coming from Dove’s direction sliced into my

  heart, crashing it into the hard earth. Instantly my whole body tensed in fear and shock, but another part of my brain began spinning into overdrive. I clutched the book tight to my chest and raced to the stairs.

  But before I could even make it half way there was a sudden hot burst of heat, so much that it blinded me for just a second. When I opened them again, my path was blocked by a boy probably my age. His face looked young and smooth, his hair a little on the sloppy side by swept over his eyes in a dark, almost inky black. He wore all black clothes, and strapped over his right shoulder was a case—and peeping out from behind his shoulder were the feathered edges of arrows I had seen more than once before. A beautiful black bow was held firmly in his hand.

  And in his other arm, an unconscious strawberry blonde wearing a lacy white nightgown, dangling from his hold like a broken marionette. The ends of her dress were stained in blood and what looked like soot or dust, and her normally braided hair was in tangles.

  I knew who this boy was—it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. The jerk who burned down my school’s beloved Old Chapel; the jerk who almost killed my friend Samantha; the jerk who interrupted a precious moment with Leon and almost got us both killed. This was the White Alchemist’s lackey—a Fire Alchemist.

  “Get out of my way.” I said, though my insides felt like rubbery glue.

  Dove was up there somewhere in trouble, but Chrys was right there! What was I supposed to do?

  “Not so fast,” the boy said, his voice thick with hate and fury that it seemed to slice under my skin. “Let’s make a trade.”

  I stared him down. He took a step, I took one backwards, praying I didn’t slip and fall. “Give me Guinevere de Blanc’s alchemic text and—” he paused, gazing down at Chrys, then back to me—“I’ll give you the brat.”

  CHAPTER 24

  C’mon, Emery. Think! Stall, you’ve got to stall!

  “I—well, that’s a very tempting offer, believe me,” I forced out a laugh, firmly placing my foot back on the first floor as the Fire Alchemist descended like a black demon towards me, cradling Chrys in his forearm. “But my Dad always warned me to never make a deal unless there was a lawyer present so…

  I’m gonna have to make a call.”

  The boy leveled his eyes to a glare. “I don’t think you realize the depths of the situation.”

  “Oh, I’m perfectly aware of the depths of this situation,” I retorted, shooting him my own Looks-Could-Kill expression that I only reserved for people like Mallory Wells. “And it doesn’t seem like a fair trade at all.”

  Okay. All I gotta do is keep him talking. Even though he can use his Fire whenever…as long as he’s holding Chrys, he can’t use his arrows. Right?

  He looked at me like I was a first class idiot, and I can’t say I blamed him. As I backed up into a shelf, I kept my eyes calm and cool, and focused, drawing my alchemy into power. “Yeah, I mean, come on! I’ve got the keys to one of the most infamous alchemist of all time, and all you have is a sleeping girl that looks too weak to do anything. How is that fair?”

  Sorry, Chrys! I didn’t like playing some heartless bitch, but I had to fib m
y heart out or we were both gonna be burnt toast! As I spoke, I channeled the power, feeling it flow like liquid warmth all through my veins. The swirls got brighter, and I bit back a grin as the tangled around the Fire Alchemist. He continued advancing, unaware of the golden web that had just ensnared him.

  “Then how about this?” he said with a cocky smirk, “I’ll just kill you

  both and take the book.”

  I bit my lip, pretending to ponder his offer. Mentally, I grasped the strands around him, pushing him to freeze. Just a second before everything was set in place, I gave him a smile. “No, I don’t think so. Asshole.”

  Freeze! The strands pulled around him, and he literally paused with one foot hanging in the air, his face half twisted in anger that made him look almost comical. But there was no time—I rushed forward and shoved him as hard as I could to the ground while he was still frozen. He landed with a satisfying sound, though against carpet it was kind of useless. I scooped up Chrys in my arms, hopelessly balancing her, the book and my flashlight, and dashed for the front doors. Alarms or not, I had to get her out of here!

  I didn’t realize I had released my hold when an arrow came whizzing by, barely kissing my face and landed firmly between the double oak doors. In seconds the end burst into a ball of fire and I gave out a shriek, backpedaling until I hit the checkout counter.

  “You damn bitch!” the Fire Alchemist yelled out, and I scurried around, ducking between the bookshelves. I heard his footsteps muffled on the carpets; heavy and hard. I held Chrys tighter to my chest, praying that she wouldn’t wake up in such a time like this, and slowly inched towards the stairs. If I could find Dove, we could team up, two-to-one.

  Another arrow shot out right through the bookshelf, scraping my cheek and I let out a yell. The surprise sent me to my knees and Chrys tumbled to the ground along with Guinevere’s book. Chrys twitched a little but went still.

  I gasped in hot air, feeling my flesh break out in a sweat. I could hear the alchemist come in closer, almost feel his evil smirk and knew that he wouldn’t kill me in one shot—he’d probably roast me alive. Panic gripped me so tightly I couldn’t even focus on my alchemy, but how would I even get out?

  He was on the other side of the shelf; I could feel his eyes on me. A deep chuckle erupted from his throat, sending shivers down my spine. I couldn’t move, my limbs felt like lead.

  And then all the lights blacked out in one second, and we were enveloped in darkness.

  “What the hell?!” the alchemist screamed out, and it was at that time my body finally decided to work. I leapt up, pushing the shelf with all my strength.

  It wasn’t as heavy as it looked, but I kept on pushing even when my shoulder gave out.

  In seconds the shelf went tumbling down, and I heard the surprised shriek of the alchemist as he was pushed underneath the shelves. The sounds of books slamming on the ground seemed to bounce of the walls, but that wasn’t the end of it. Like dominos, the shelf that I had pushed bumped into its neighbor, and the next, and the next, until a total of five shelves crashed to the ground, and then everything went silent.

  Even the Fire Alchemist.

  But I knew he wasn’t crushed; just buried. And it would probably take him no time at all to dig his way out—but by then I would be upstairs, getting Dove, and getting the hell out of here—

  “Aaugh!” A screech left my throat as I was suddenly grabbed behind and rammed into the fallen bookshelf, bent over painfully. Someone had grabbed my arm, while my left one was pinned under my weight, digging into the wooden shelf. Another hand grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking so hard I felt strands ripping out.

  The smell of something smoky filled my nostrils, and it literally took me five seconds to realize how familiar that smell was—it was the same kind of scent when someone’s curling iron was used too long in the girls’

  bathroom, and the whole floor smelled like burnt hair.

  Someone was setting my hair on fire!

  I kicked as hard as I could, struggling against the weight of my attacker, but it was no use. I could feel the back of my neck starting to burn, and my face was wet from a mix of sweat and tears.

  “How fucking dare you hurt Ash like that!” A voice hissed in my ear, sounding so eerily familiar—just like the Fire Alchemist. But that alchemist was underneath the bookshelves…

  Unless…

  With much effort, even though my head felt like it weighed ten tons, I looked over my shoulder as best as I could—and saw an exact mirror copy of the Fire Alchemist I had just taken down. The only minor difference was that the tips of his black hair were dyed a bright red, like blood…and there was a white scar over his lip, as if someone had taken a knife and tried to slice his face in half.

  But his eyes—they were equally horrifying. A blazing brown, so deep, just like his twin brother ’s. Eyes that could literally burn a hole into the back of your head.

  The burning pain was too much—I screamed, feeling my throat tear raw. I couldn’t even concentrate on my alchemy, I couldn’t even move!

  I stopped struggling, but the second alchemist’s grip never relaxed. I had to stall some more, dammit! Think Emery—you escaped from an insane, psychopathic, body snatching, ancient alchemist! You can get out of this situation!

  “Ash, huh? Is there some sort of unwritten rule that every alchemist has to have some lame ass name regarding their element?” I spit out, trying anything to get his guard down just for a second to get my foot on the ground.

  “So what’s your name? Flame? Blazer? Inferno?”

  “Shut up, you damn—aack!”

  A force struck the alchemist with such blinding speed it took a moment to realize I was released from his hot grip. I scrambled up just in time to see a tall, dark figure: Ru, tackling the Fire alchemist to the ground, throwing punches every which way he could.

  “Emery!” Dove’s voice was inches away, and I was locked in an embrace. My head felt a little fuzzy and the choking smell of burnt hair wouldn’t leave my nostrils, but I was okay. A little.

  “Dove, what happened? I heard you scream and—”

  “I was blindsided,” she explained hastily, casting her eyes quickly over to Ru’s fighting form. But the Fire Alchemist was no wimp—occasionally sparks of fire plumed from his hands—and I now saw that he donned a pair of black gloves, no doubt laced with some sort of Alchemic Rune, just like his twin. “But he came just in time. He…helped me. But he ran away before we could do anything. I’m so glad we got here just in time!”

  I noticed her face was streaked with blood; her fair hair was matted down to her head, but she was smiling, although painfully. “It’s fine, I just fell and knocked my head against a table. I’m fine.”

  I nodded, feeling a lump tear up my throat.

  Suddenly a blaring, screeching alarm sets off, piercing my ears.

  Though I covered my ears, Dove actually looked pleased, shooting her eyes from Ru to the door, as if saying he was responsible for it…

  And then I recalled when the lights went out. The alarm. This must be Ru’s alchemy—Electricity! Pretty sweet.

  I heard a yell as Ru was shoved back, his brown jacket set ablaze. Dove

  and I had dragged Chrys over as close to the doors as we could, until I spotted a coverless book inches away from where the Fire Alchemist was.

  “Dove! Guinevere’s book!” I shouted pointing in the direction. Ru had finally come to us, patting his shoulder in attempt to get rid of the flames. I watched in horror as the scarred Fire Alchemist dug quickly into the books and pushed one of the shelves with inhuman strength off his brother, setting the whole thing on fire. He easily picked up his brother, tossing him over his shoulder—and in his other hand was the book!

  “No!” I shot up, barely brushing past Ru who reached out to stop me, but I was too fast. I jumped over discarded books and pounded up the stairs as hard as I could, even though my whole body screamed in protest. The alarms blared on, but a second alarm added to the mi
x—the fire alarm. And soon a heavy sprinkling of cool water came down, no doubt stopping the burning flames but probably destroying priceless books all at the same time.

  But there was only one book I cared about.

  “Emery!” I heard Dove call out, but kept going, rounding the corner and crashing into tables, all to keep those damn alchemists in sight!

  I paused just for a breath—I had them cornered. When suddenly a shadow loomed overhead—a large statue made of metal work in the shape of a Civil War soldier was falling. I barely had time to breathe, let alone think, when a hand grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back, just as the statue collapsed in a heap of scraps on the carpet.

  My entire body was trembling; my blood felt like it was on fire. I had just narrowly escaped death thrice in this library—but I had still failed.

  “Emery…”

  “They got the book—they got Guinevere’s book! I let them get away—

  damn it, damn it, damn it!” I pounded the floor, taking out my frustration. Even

  though we had gotten Chrys to safety, those bastards still won! Their goal wasn’t me, it was getting Guinevere’s book, and I had just given it to them!

  “Emery, calm down!” I felt a stinging pain on my cheek. I stared in awe as a trembling Dove sat before me, her own eyes shining with tears. I touched my cheek, but that slap had released all the frustration and anger and sadness and guilt, all tumbling down like the Niagara falls and I just bawled right there, in a half-burning library, like a baby.

  “It’s not the end, alright?” She snapped, though her face was soft, “They may have gotten that book—but if something had happened to you I’d rather that damn book burn than go through losing you! I feel like I’m losing Leon—

  I can’t lose you too, Emery! I can’t!”

  I stared, feeling hot tears slide down my face, mixing with dust and blood. I nodded slowly, like a child, before we helped each other up. Looking down below the second floor balcony, the fire alarm did little to help the fire.

  Dove held my hand, guiding me gently to the opposite side of the floor.