The Fake Eye (Time Alchemist) Read online

  All of this is my fault Leon.”

  I choked out a sob, feeling the hot tears slide down my cheeks and into my burnt hair. “If I have to die today, then I’m not going to regret telling you this. I love you, Leon. I love you.”

  Even inside this bubble of frozen time, everything seemed to halt. Our breaths, my heartbeat. Those three little words would be the breaking point.

  And then, it seemed as if Leon had lost. Ivan’s lips formed a sinister

  smile as he pulled the sword back out and raised it again. “Say goodbye to the love of your life, my Emery.”

  My heart seemed to burst.

  Leon had lost.

  I had lost. I couldn’t save him.

  My throat felt scratchy and hot, and I coughed, tasting copper. I had to lick my dried, cracked lips before I could say my last words.

  “I’m so sorry, Leon.”

  I closed my eyes.

  Then Ivan let out a horrible, ear-piercing screech. I looked up, only to see the sword had been stabbed right through Leon’s right leg—and Leon had snapped to his old self, gritting his teeth as he dug the blade even deeper until it cut clean through his skin, ripping through flesh, muscle, bone; his entire leg was drenched in blood.

  I screamed, and then everything frozen around us snapped back into place, like somebody had pulled a giant rubber band until it broke. The wailing picked up and the water washed over my hot face, mixing in with the blood on the floor.

  Leon staggered back, and I crawled out backwards from underneath him, trying to get up. With a gross shlucking sound, Leon pulled the sword out of his leg and fell to his knees, using the crimson soaked blade as support. His face was so pale, like milk, and I crawled towards him, slipping on the wet ground.

  “…run.”

  His words were so low, so soft, I couldn’t even hear him. I tried to reach out, but he pulled away, his eyes brimmed with fresh tears and pain

  etched in every line of his face. “Run.”

  “I can’t leave you like this, Leon. I won’t.” I gasped out, but no amount of willpower would bring me up to my feet. I tried to plead with my eyes, begging him to stay, but he just shook his head. “Let me help you. We can find a way— I’ll find a way, even if—!”

  Finally, a small, thin smile played on his face. The same, kind smile he always gave me, like it was meant for me and me alone. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” I would never doubt him again.

  He smiled a little more. “Good. I’m glad.” His eyes fell over to Dove.

  Despite the blood, she was still breathing; but barely. Her back rose and fell in short, quick breaths, and the bleeding seemed to have stopped just a little. But her face was deathly pale; chalky, like she was a harmless, sleeping ghost.

  “Please…tell Dove I’m sorry.”

  “She already knows that,” I said gently.

  “I know,” he sighs, backing away, “I know.”

  I inched forward more, and grabbed his torn shirt with my fists. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could I pressed my lips against his.

  Fireworks burst inside me, warming my numb body from the inside out. I felt him hesitate, but slowly…so achingly slowly, he pressed back. His hands stayed by his side but I didn’t need him to touch me, hold me, or comfort me. I just wanted to feel Leon’s lips on mine.

  And it felt perfect and wonderful and breathtaking.

  I felt heat pool in my belly. A kind of heat that seemed to electrify every core in my body. A kind of heat that felt good. A kind of heat the increased when I felt his tongue nudge its way between my swollen lips. Our teeth clicked

  together, tongues dancing, breath melting together, though I tasted sweat and copper, but also a hint of something else. Mint, I think.

  It was just me and Leon.

  I had always chided those silly girls at school who gushed over a guy or mourned over a break up for weeks on end. I had thought they were just, you know, kids, like me—we didn’t know the first thing about love, even if it was right in our face. I had brushed their crying off. They would have gotten over it.

  But now I see it. I really, truly see it. I had thought destroying “Jack”

  had been hard—but it was nothing, nothing, compared to this moment with Leon.

  Leon. I was in love with Leon.

  I was absolutely, positively in love with him.

  And even though this wasn’t the time or the place to think about it—he was one hell of a good kisser—I had never had a kiss like this. A kiss that made me feel alive. It was like Leon was made just for me, and I for him. Our lips locking together felt so natural. So right.

  So perfect. So painfully, bittersweet, and perfect.

  He pulled away, and I watched Leon’s bright eyes spin with faint specks of blue and brown and gray.

  Another heartbeat passed between us, and then Leon staggered to his feet. Even though his cheeks were flushed and his lips were bruised, he looked confident, pure. Determined.

  I knew what was going to happen. I knew I could stop it, but every bone in my body seemed to be weighed down by lead. I could barely keep my head up, much less stand.

  “Promise me,” I choked out, refusing to cry. But—oh, dammit, my cheeks felt wet. I could feel the fat tears cascading down my face, mingling with the snot and I tried desperately to sniff up. “Promise me that you’ll fight, Leon. Just fight. Please don’t give up. Please.”

  The sirens grew louder and the lights flickered out and died

  “I promise,” he said, bending down for one last, sweet and gentle kiss on the lips. “But only if you promise me one thing in return.”

  “Anything.” I choked out.

  I was expecting these next words, but my heart still deflated like a balloon when he opened his lips: “If nothing works…if all else fails, and there’s no way to fight anymore. If I get swallowed up by this evil…I want you to kill me. Promise me. Whether its by your hands or someone outside, I couldn’t stand the thought of being controlled like a puppet, killing people.

  Promise me, Emery!”

  “I—I do. I promise. I will.”

  Finally his eyes changed to a look of pure relief, mixed with sadness.

  With one last kiss on my cheek, he backed away, melding into the shadows so all I could see were two beautiful green orbs.

  “I love you, Emery. I always will.”

  CHAPTER 27

  The doors and windows flew open so suddenly my bones seemed to jump out of my skin. And in seconds I was surrounded by half a dozen or more figures wearing deep crimson cloaks; the shining golden trim seemed to blur as they moved.

  My eyes looked past the strangers, hungrily eyeing the dark corners of the library.

  But Leon had vanished.

  “Is this her?” one of the hooded men said, as he reached down and clasped a hand tightly around my injured arm. I gave a hiss of protest and fought feebly against them, but it was no good. My energy was all drained.

  “Yeah, it’s her. Somebody get her out of here so the Sweepers can do their work.”

  “Nettles, come here!” a shrill voice echoed just feet away. A smaller cloaked figure was bent next to Dove, pressing a hand on her gaping wound.

  Blood pooled between the person’s slim fingers, but all I caught was a blur of motion as a taller one—a man?—came charging at them.

  “Is this?”

  “Yes. No doubt about it. King’s daughter.”

  “Somebody get this girl to a Healer and stat!”

  One of them reached down next to Dove, mumbling in some strange language, and all I saw was red.

  My bones creaked and popped; the blood in my veins seemed to boil and swell as I lunged. I didn’t get far though when another one of the cloaked

  persons grabbed my shoulders.

  I was vaguely aware of what was going on—I had to get Dove out of here and get to Leon! I had to bring him back—convince him that there would be a way to save him! I had to! I thrash
ed like a wild animal, howling in pain as two cloaked figures dragged me out of the wet library like I was some child that had just been caught sneaking into the cookie jar.

  But what little strength I had died out, and I was almost dragged out like a weakened animal, placing one foot slowly, agonizingly in front of the other.

  Numbly, I let them drag me out. I caught bits of conversation drifting after us from the other cloaked people. “Send word for the Sweepers to clean this…” “Where the hell is the Healer?!” “Are the Weavers circling the area…?”

  And then I was outside, feeling cold wind slap my face. One of the men let go of my arms, mumbling something to someone donning another red cloak, and he whirled around, disappearing back into the dark mansion-like building; his crimson cape flapping and fading away into the darkness, like a scarlet bird flying into the dead of night.

  As I was helped down the stairs, I saw somebody bending over what looked like police officer, holding a coin attached to a metal chain in front of his face. His hood was down, and I got a good look at him—gray, shaggy hair and dark, wide jagged tattoos on the side of his face, like triangles and circles of all different shapes. The guard’s eyes were wide open, but they looked fuzzy

  —as if he was in a trance…

  “Who are you?” my voice came out so much more childish than I wanted it to.

  “We’re the Black Crown, sweetie,” the face under the hood said softly, leading me past the gates and into the square, where I saw two other people surrounding Ru and a still unconscious Chrys; Ru had shrugged off his long

  coat and had bundled it up underneath her head as a sort of makeshift pillow.

  There were strange lights coming from the cloaked ones, and I could only assume—

  “The Black…Crown” I repeated numbly. They were finally here—yet it seemed like they had taken forever to show up!

  But then again…I had been fighting inside that bubble of Time. Even though hours felt like it had passed, it must have been just barely a minute.

  Maybe even less.

  The person finally shrugged off her coat, revealing an older woman with plump, red cheeks and copper hair in little curls. Her eyes were soft and warm, like fresh baked cookies on a cool spring day. “I’m Francis Ann, but just call me Frankie Ann, okay?” Frankie Ann nodded, leading me to the small group. I saw that everything around us was dark—the streetlights were cut off; no car drove past. There was nothing save for a few flickering lanterns around us, the moon and twinkling stars.

  One of the figures, a girl this time about my age, came over and pulled me gently to a bench. “Where does it hurt?” she asked in a thick Chicago accent. She had the darkest brown eyes I had ever seen, like melted chocolate, and I saw strands of sandy blonde hair peeping out from underneath the dark red hood. I lifted my arms, noticing the terrible burns and cuts on the skin, and she went to work wordlessly. Soft white glows came from the silver rings on each of her fingers

  My skin was covered in warmth, like somebody had wrapped a fleece blanket fresh from the dryer around me. The scalding burns began to fade, and the cuts began to slowly close. In place were white thin lines and fresh pink skin. I looked at Frankie Ann in awe, and she smiled. “Healers, dear. Part of the Black Crown.”

  “It’s not much, but it’ll do. Just think how well this Artificial Alchemy

  works!” the girl said, and I noticed the thick shine of sweat on her brow, plastering her sandy blonde hair to her skin. “I’m still just an apprentice—it’s a good thing you don’t have any broken bones! You’re still gonna feel sore, but at least they won’t get infected. Your hair, though…”

  I lifted a hand, feeling the scratchy burned edges. The girl stood up and placed a hand near my neck, soothing the aching burns there. It was only hair. It wouldn’t grow back because of my frozen Time, but it was better than having no hair.

  I heard the police sirens suddenly stop—I could only imagine what sort of tricks the people of the Black Crown were going to pull to keep them quiet.

  Hypnosis, like on the night guard? Or maybe there were members of the Black Crown inside the police force?

  “You’re doing much better, Gwen,” the man hovering over Dove’s body said. There was a hint of pride in his voice, and I saw the girl, Gwen, blush.

  “It’s not that great,” she mumbled, “I still have a lot to learn.”

  That older voice was oddly familiar, though I couldn’t place it. But when I saw his face, it felt as if we had met before. An older man, probably in his late fifties, with light gray hair, and soft gray eyes. Wrinkles etched along his face, but he worked and talked with pride. When we caught eyes, he beckoned me over, and I jumped at the chance. Dove was nestled on the grass, covered in a cloak that must have belonged to this…Healer. I shot him a grateful look as I knelt down, taking Dove’s hand in my own.

  “How is….how is Dove?” I choked out.

  The man’s smile faded. “I’ve closed up the wound, but there is no telling what could happen to your friend. Please, tell me exactly what happened to her.”

  I blurted out with haste, detailing how she was stabbed clean through with a sword and how she glowed a strange white soon after. The man clucked his tongue, and I saw the look of disappointment in his eyes.

  “Tell me,” I insisted.

  “I have yet to see such a heavy case, but…” he trailed off, then picked up after a blue-and-red flashing police siren zoomed by, “Whoever did this not only damaged her on the outside—but seriously hurt her core.”

  “Her…core?”

  “Her Alchemic core,” he patted his chest for emphasis, “The thing every human is born with; the source of our power. Our heart. ”

  “But…she isn’t an alchemist anymore,” I said, my voice cracking,

  “She…gave it up to save me!”

  He shook his head, as if he were dealing with a bratty, spoiled child.

  “No such thing exists. What I can presume, is that your friend didn’t sacrifice her alchemy like she said—rather, she locked it up inside, accidentally. She never lost her alchemy—just the ability to tap into it. Like a misplaced key.”

  I jumped to my feet, almost topping from the sudden rush to my head.

  “What does this mean? Can’t you fix her? Can you unlock her alchemy again?

  You have to!”

  He shook his head. “I’m afraid this is beyond even my level of skills.

  Her body may be well—and it will heal slowly in time, but if her alchemic core is not healed by the right person, she may never wake up again.”

  She may never wake up again. She may never wake up again.

  Dove’s kind, gentle face flashed in front of my wet eyes. “I couldn’t stand to lose you, too!”

  And then Leon, his face set in courageous determination. “I love you,

  Emery. I always will.”

  The world seemed to suddenly tilt. The last I saw was the horror struck faces of the Black Crown members as my head landed with a heavy smack on the earth.

  CHAPTER 28

  I woke up with a throbbing head, throbbing arms and legs, throbbing everything. My muscles felt like glue, and my heart literally felt like a cold piece of machinery, barely beating inside my ribcage.

  That was the first thing I noticed. The second was something heavy and warm on my stomach. Groggily, I lifted my head, blinking in the darkness. For a brief moment, I began to panic. Where was I?

  The thing on my belly shifted and I swatted out in the darkness, my fingers catching soft fur. A cat. Blinking again until my eyes adjusted, I saw that I was in a small room, painted pink. I was sitting on a comfy green couch with a thick white blanket over me. The cat was really big— it felt like there was a bowling ball sitting on my stomach. I felt its whiskers twitch as it gave an annoyed growl and jumped off, using my stomach as its personal diving board and I coughed up a big lungful of air.

  Sitting up painfully slow, I caught my breath and gave another look around. The c
urtains next to me were drawn shut, but I made out blue lights coming in little strips from the corners. I sat up, ignoring how my muscles and bones and nerves shrieked in pain, and peered outside the window.

  I saw a large magnolia tree out front, swaying in a light breeze. There were heavy looking bushes holding hydrangeas that bordered the house, coming in pink and blue. Realizing this, my heart leapt to my throat, and I was about to call out when I saw a shadow move underneath the blue lights of the street lamps.

  Two hooded figures were standing outside. Their faces were hidden underneath the shadows of their large cloak, but they stood there, frozen like statues.

  “You’re awake.”

  I let out a yelp and jumped, tangling my legs in the sheets. I whirled around to see Ru leaning against the doorframe. The hallway behind him was dark, but I could barely make out his features and monotone expressions from a small moon-shaped nightlight nestled on the opposite wall.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he put a finger to his lips, motioning with his other hand to the bed on the opposite side of the room. Someone was sleeping peacefully, but their breaths were coming out in ragged pants of sorts.

  “Dove!” I whispered, untangling my legs and running towards her. She looked like a sleeping princess, waiting for her prince to arrive and wake her with a kiss. Her face was pale in the dim lights, and sweat covered her brow. “Is she okay?” I asked Ru, who had stayed put, eyeing me with a tired expression.

  “The Healers say she’ll survive.”

  I let out a sigh of relief—then everything came at me all at once, like a tornado striking its target. I had to grip the bed covers to keep from collapsing.

  Dove may be alright…but she may never wake up again.

  I didn’t even realize I was crying until Ru placed a hand on my shoulder, gently steering me out of the room and into a small bathroom.

  Wordlessly, he gathered a towel and wet it, placing it in my hands. I gave him a watery smile (at least, I hoped it was a smile. It felt like a grimace), and pressed the cloth to my face. It was deliciously warm, but my insides still felt ice cold.