The Fake Eye (Time Alchemist) Read online

“I’m fine!” Leon hissed through gritted teeth. “I have a headache, okay?

  Just let me go. We’ll talk about this some other time.”

  Before Dove could respond, I heard Leon storm off, crashing through the bushes until he faded away. I heard Dove give out a heavy sigh, before following in his direction. I stayed there, glued to the wall for a solid five minutes, letting their words and bubbling emotions sink in. I had believed that we were all finally getting along, almost like a family. Even if they were only half-related, Dove and Leon should treat each other like siblings should.

  Fighting occasionally, but never to such extent.

  It had all started with the mention of Guinevere—Guinevere de Blanc, their old Alchemic Master who had vanished sometime during last summer.

  They had both admired her greatly. And what wasn’t there to admire? From what they both gushed about, she was a beautiful, kind, and insanely strong

  alchemist…and immortal. She lived during the time that Flamel was alive, and was one of his most trusted apprentices. She was so appreciated by Flamel that, when the time came of his “death” (since no one really knows if he truly died or not, considering what a powerful alchemist he was a that time), he had left a powerful material that could have rocked the alchemic world—the Elixir of Life—in her hands.

  But with such power in her hands, there was no doubt that others would want a taste of it. From the stories, Flamel didn’t’ have just one apprentice, he had several. And there was one apprentice that was consumed with greed, so much so that he would go as far as to try and kill Guinevere to obtain the prized Elixir.

  An accident forced Guinevere to take a taste of the Elixir of Life, making her young and immortal, and she’s been roaming around the world on a mission to hide the stone from the hands of evil and greed. There was no power on earth that could destroy the Elixir—but it could be broken into many, many pieces and scattered about. But even just one small fragment held an ungodly amount of power. Still, Guinevere had searched the globe and hidden them long and far—even in this small town of Savannah.

  I didn’t know how long she had taken Dove and Leon under her wing, but the fact that her disappearance upset them enough to start a feud over—one that even went as far as to (almost) killing each other—meant that their bonds ran deep and strong.

  Deeper than what the three of us had. And I felt a strange pang of…

  sadness just thinking that. I couldn’t replace years and years of training and love, but I thought that these past seven months meant something a lot more. I had gained two wonderful friends that I couldn’t bear to lose. But I knew they were eager…waiting and hoping to reunite with their lost mentor, and despite all that, they were still putting me first in their heart. How could I even repay

  them?

  I felt like it was my fault the two were fighting. Even when we first met, they were fighting, but after a couple of life saving moments, trust had formed again over the cracks that had separated the two siblings…but it seemed like once again, they were reopening, like a cut that refused to heal. Dove and Leon were only here because of me. It was because of their conflicting views and pain that they were driven to Savannah, what had drove them to start fighting near St. Mary’s—and what had lead to my death…and awakening.

  It’s your fault that they’re stuck here, a little voice whispered in my head, because you’re too weak. Because you haven’t even tried to find the Elixir.

  Four months ago, after my near brush with death at Bonaventure Cemetery, I had made my new goal crystal clear to Dove and Leon: I would search for the remaining shards of the Elixir, the very shards that Guinevere had hidden, and find a way to destroy them—it was a stretch. Not even the most powerful alchemist on earth could destroy it, but maybe there was a way if we just looked hard enough.

  True, I needed a shard to get my life back together—although my heart no longer ached from using my alchemy, my Time was still “stuck” in place, though I didn’t have to worry about the pocket watch dying at any moment, I still needed to “unfreeze” from my time frame. Since September, my hair hasn’t grown an inch, and my nails stayed at a neat, short clip that actually saved me a little time. Even the small stubbles of hair on my legs haven’t grown, saving me time in the shower from saving. But no matter the few good perks, it wasn’t good to stay like this. How long could my body hold out being stuck in Time?

  But I guess a little voice in my head convinced me that since I had all the time in the world (literally?), I could just take my time, enjoy my school

  life and try to mend the patched up relationship with my friends. However…it would only be so long I could stay like “this.” I had stopped growing in eighth grade, so height wasn’t an issue. But if I graduated St. Mary’s like this, and attended college…someone would catch on. Even my worried Dad would think something was wrong. It sure wasn’t the same as being immortal—because I wasn’t going to be like this forever.

  Dove had told me, long ago, that even though I had “bonded” with my alchemy, my body could only hold on so much. I estimated that…a couple of years I would be okay, but then things would take a turn for the worse. But I tried to keep positive.

  I pushed myself from the wall, feeling renewed. I had to come up with a new plan, and fast. Following in Dove and Leon’s footsteps, I made my way out of the thick of the woods, my thoughts churning like an over working factory machine.

  But how could I even come close to finding the shards of the Elixir when I had no idea where they were hidden?

  CHAPTER 7

  Although I had vowed up and down that I would find a way to locate the Elixir pieces…it didn’t exactly turn out like I had hoped.

  Leon had been unusually grumpy the next couple of mornings. It’s easy to tell when he has something on his mind, because he attacks blindly at me, but with little effort into his swings. Even when I knocked him down three times in a row, he didn’t seem to snap out of his thoughts. I didn’t want to press the issue, because then I would have had to admit that I was eavesdropping on his and Dove’s personal conversations. So I zipped my lips and swung my sword like I could slice away all my worries into tiny pieces.

  Dove also was a little on edge, clearly stressed out by Leon’s brash behavior. Although they were brother and sister, Dove had mentioned once that they were never close, considering that they had two different mothers. There was a rift between them that would probably never go away, and it pained me that there was nothing I could do about it except try to stick a band aid on it and hope it went away. Yeah. That was like blocking a leak on the Hoover Dam with a piece of chewed up bubblegum.

  So while I tried to come up with a plan of action, life around me continued to be…well, life. Sparring continued every morning, breakfast with Dad was the same, classes dragged on and homework piled up. I barely had time to blink my eyes before something new came up that I had to take care of.

  Imagine how I felt when I realized I had forgotten not one, but two, special surprises at St. Mary’s Academy. Both in the same night.

  ○○○

  It was the same scene: hot, thick blood everywhere. On my clothes and skin and hair; the ground and even the coppery scent was thick in the air. The familiar flashing of blue and red lights burned my eyes, but every time I blinked a new scene would appear before me. A young woman knelt by the little girl. The next, something cool and white glowed from the woman’s fingers, and then she vanished.

  The girl twitched violently, and I raced over, concern winning over fear.

  I knelt in the very same spot that the woman in white had been in, and I cradled the girl in my lap like she was a precious little doll. Her strawberry blonde hair was long and curly; the same pink bow clip had come loose, letting her hair flow over the right side of her face, masking it completely.

  Something told me not to do it, but I did it anyway. I reached my hand out, brushing the hair back carefully. Even thought it was a dream, I could feel how soft and feather
y it felt. I pulled it back, like a curtain preparing for the next act, and saw that the entire right side of the girl’s face was white and clean. There wasn’t even a speck of blood on it.

  Then her eye opened, but all I saw was white. She stared at me, unblinking, and every bone in my body turned into cement. Then her lips, red with blood, opened up, and she said:

  “We’re here for you…Emery.”

  ○○○

  BZZZT! BZZZT!

  I jolted awake, gasping for air. Blindly, I reached for my phone—a charming Christmas gift from my Dad—and swiped it back under the sweat soaked covers with me. A tiny little rectangle of white gave me enough light to see that Dove hadn’t stirred from her own slumber. Still, my heart raced too hard and too fast, and I felt as if I were going to pass out in my own bed.

  Taking a deep, calming breath—forcing myself to push that crazy, scary, blood dream to the side—I flipped my phone open, wondering who the hell was texting me at two in the morning. The number was unknown, but curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the message.

  My blood ran cold.

  CONGRATULATIONS NEW SISTERS, the message read, ARE YOU

  READY FOR YOUR FIRST TEST? BE AT THE BACKSTEPS OF THE

  CERAMICS BUILDING IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. DO NOT TELL ANYONE.

  DO NOT BRING YOUR PHONE.

  New sisters? Test? What kind of spam was this? It took a full minute for my brain to kick into action. The Isabella Trials—The Magnolia Bells! How could I forget?! I checked the time on my phone: two minutes after two. The ceramics building was right behind the Art Building, but even if I walked from my dorm to there it take me a good twenty minutes.

  Well, even if I could control Time it sure wouldn’t help in this situation!

  I was too panicky after that bizarre nightmare and the sudden realization that this test was starting soon. I carefully got out of my bed and groped blindly on the floor until I came across my favorite black flats that I wore for school. I had no time to bother getting a jacket as I flung my phone on my rumpled bed, and crept out the door as quickly and silently as I could.

  In minutes I was out the door, racing across the quad like a blind bat.

  Although my arms were cooled down from the thin white tank top I wore, my legs kept getting bunched up in my favorite worn pajama pants with Looney Toons prints.

  I took a shortcut behind the Gym, my legs pounding on the grass. I

  couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t even stop for a second to rest, because I had to go now. To push myself, I replayed Mallory’s bitching and insults in my head, letting them bounce around and sink into my brain, giving me the anger and adrenaline to keep going, not just for me, but for my Dad’s pride, too.

  Finally, finally, the Art building came to view. It was one of the most modern pieces on campus, with large glass-like walls were you could actually see inside the building. I’ve yet to go in, but every time I passed it I couldn’t help but stare in awe at the beautiful paintings and statues that lined the walls on the inside and the twisting spiral staircase right smack dab in the middle of the floor that lead up to the second landing. I pushed a little more then, even though my legs felt like they were on my fire and my lungs had shriveled to the size of twin raisins.

  Then I found it: a small building, probably twice as small as the Old Chapel. The Ceramics Building. I raced around and bounded up the steps, just as a girl called out, “Miller: fourteen minutes and three seconds.”

  I wanted to holler. I had made it by the skin of my teeth! Grasping the wall for support, I leaned on it to catch my breath and sooth the aching stitch at my side. As I looked around, I saw maybe seven other new “sisters” to the side, with bright flushed faces and sheen of sweat on their flawless skin. A couple of older girls dressed in all black stood at the far end, just…staring at us. But there was one girl in baby pink shorts and top that was glancing nervously at Mallory, and I realized who it was: it was Bethany, Mallory’s new sheep. But unlike everyone else, she didn’t look nearly as out of breath as the rest of us.

  She looked like she was hiding something. I caught Mallory’s eyes, and she leveled me with a glare before tossing her hair and moving away.

  “Penwell: fourteen minutes and fifty-six seconds.” I looked over to see Samantha practically crawl up the steps, panting heavily. Her hair was in a twisted braid with ends sticking out all over, and the orange pajamas she wore

  almost clung to her skin from the sweat.

  Literally seconds after, another girl with a pixie cute ran up, gasping for air. The girl who was calling times shouted out, “Turner: Fifteen minutes and two seconds. Disqualified.”

  “What?” the Turner girl shouted out. “Are you kidding me? It was only two seconds!”

  “I’m afraid rules are rules,” a calm voice came from behind. Karin Foster walked out, holding a lit candle in her hands. She too was dressed in all black, and even wore a pretty black laced ribbon in her hair. But the normally bubbly Karin I always saw was gone: her eyes were cold, though there was a flicker of something in them when she said those words.

  “It’s not fair!” Turner whined, stomping her foot on the ground. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this! I can’t go back! You have to let me in! You have to!”

  I could only stare in bewilderment as Turner kept on with her tantrum, until Karin motioned for two of the black-clad members to drag her away. I hadn’t realized how serious this sorority was. I was only doing this to prove Mallory wrong…but some of these girls come from legacies. All the pressure on their shoulders to succeed in their mother and sister and grandmother ’s footsteps…

  “Jenkins and McNeese?” Karin asked the girl with the clipboard. She scribbled a little with a pen before answering, “No sign of them. Disqualified.”

  Karin sighed before turning to us. All the new girls had gathered on the steps, waiting with bated breath as to what she would say. But I was ecstatic: I had passed the first trial! Go me!

  “It’s unfortunate, but when I say that we pride ourselves on sticking by our rules, I mean that. One little slipup, one little delay, and you’re out. For

  good. Two seconds is too long if you’re needed on the spot. So, to the remaining twelve of you, congratulations on your hard work and effort.

  You’ve past the first pre-trial.”

  That shocked us all into silence. Pre-trial? This was all a pre-trial?

  Karin nodded, as if she could read our minds. “Did you really think that the Trials of Isabella would be this easy? Of course not—we had to see which ones were truly dedicated. And I must say, I am very impressed. I expect great things from you all.” Here, her eyes flickered to me, and I felt a shiver.

  Black strips of fabric were passed around, and we were all led to our assigned “Big Sister”, who would lead us to the area of the official first trial.

  And just my luck, I got assigned Tasha, Mallory’s henchman. She sneered, but made no complaints under the watchful eye of Karin Foster. In minutes, the twelve of us newbies were blindfolded.

  There was a sudden chill in the air, but it wasn’t just that that made my insides squirm. I could almost feel the weight of the Big Sister ’s on each and every one of us, judging us for every little mistake we made.

  If they kicked a girl out for being late by a measly two seconds, I was in a lot more trouble than I anticipated. Would my stubbornness and pride manage to hold me out until I won?

  “So, the first trial will begin,” Karin explained. “Every one of you will be led to a certain place on school grounds. The goal of this trial is to see how well you can obey your other Sisters. But that’s not all. Every place has a special mark that belongs to Isabella. You must find that mark—whatever your Sister requests of you—and bring it back here in the next thirty minutes. If you can’t find your mark, don’t even bother to come back.”

  Tasha’s hand gripped my shoulder so tightly I felt her nails digging into my skin, and then I was lead away from the safety of the group
and Karin. I

  heard Karin call out a simple “Good luck!”, but her voice drifted away into the wind.

  I couldn’t help but think of Mallory’s hateful remarks about me being part of the Isabella Trials. How Bethany had seemed almost fine after running halfway across campus to the goal. And now I was in the hands of one of her lackeys, no less. Who knew what she was plotting against me?

  I had a horrible, sinking feeling that something bad was going to happen tonight.

  CHAPTER 8

  We tromped through the woods, growing farther and farther away from the warmth of campus. I knew we were somewhere in the woods, because Tasha kept “accidentally” leading me into thick bushes, letting me stumble over roots or whacking me with low branches. But I stayed silent, biting my tongue until I tasted blood. Don’t add fuel to the fire, Emery, don’t add fuel…

  Finally, we came to a clearing and stopped. The night was calm and quiet; an owl hooted somewhere. Tasha’s grip on my shoulder tightened even harder, and I couldn’t help but wince.

  “Listen here, Miller,” she snapped, “if this wasn’t for the Sisters I wouldn’t play nice. But you just shut your trap and listen to me carefully,

  ‘cause I’m only going to say this once: stay in this spot and count to exactly one hundred. Then you can take your blindfold off. Your mark is to obtain Isabella’s Bible, got it?” Again, her grip tightened. I knew for sure I would have bruises on my shoulder the next morning. I nodded, wishing I could spit in her face. “Don’t you play any tricks with us, Miller. Some of us actually have this thing called pride, and we ain’t gonna let you walk all over us just

  ‘ cause Karin thinks you might be something special. It’s an insult to Sisters everywhere to let a scholarship brat like you in. If you purposely mess this up, I’ll mess your face up. Permanently.”

  I could only nod again, a lump forming in my throat. So it was obvious to everyone I didn’t really want to be here (but that’s not really true; I do want to be here, but the circumstances…), so I could see some sort of hatred. But never at this level. It wasn’t just Mallory that believed I didn’t deserve to be here—all the other girls did. Karin believed I could do some great things for the Magnolia Bells, but even I wasn’t so sure now. I was walking on knives. I had to be careful.