The Fake Eye (Time Alchemist) Page 8

  I couldn’t believe this! “So that means Mallory thinks a video of her beating the crap out of me—” Ouch. My pride stung at those words, but hell, it was freakin’ true.—“exists. But it doesn’t.”

  “Oh yes. Why let her in on our little secret? I’m sure she’ll realize in some time that the video isn’t there. But in the meantime at least she won’t bother you for a little while.”

  “Wow, Dove! You are just…so freaking unbelievably amazing!” I cried out, jumping off my bed and tackling her in a great big hug. Ever since we met she was always a little cold but distantly polite. The few times I saw her when she was angry was directed at either Leon or another alchemist. But now that we’ve known each other practically half a year, she’s really grown into a warm, gentle person. But this is the first I’ve ever seen her actually get involved with normal “teenage drama”. And man, she knocked Mallory’s socks off! “I owe you a huge, huge solid.”

  “I don’t really need anything solid,” Dove spoke seriously, returning

  my hug. But after I pulled away, her smile changed into a grim frown. “But you can tell me what it was you were doing the other night.”

  Crap. Busted. If there was one thing Dove knew how to do, it was make you confess any of your deepest, darkest secrets. All she had to do was look at you with her cool icy blue eyes, and you were as useless as a fish on a hook.

  So with slumped shoulders, I told Dove everything about the Magnolia Bells—

  even though I had been sworn not to tell a soul, but considering what happened…I doubt I was even a candidate anymore—how Mallory just flipped a switch at my acceptance, insulting my Father; the start of the Isabella Trials and how I had the sneaky suspicion that Mallory may have rigged the test so that I could fail.

  But when I came to actually finding the secret door underneath the Old Chapel—everything came up blank. I recall a little memories of being inside the building…the dusty pews and cobweb covered candelabra’s…but nothing else stuck out. One minute I was in the Old Chapel and the next I was back in my bed feeling sore and hot with cuts on my hands.

  “Well, do you really believe that Mallory was the one behind the fire?”

  Dove asked.

  I gave out a sigh, leaning back on her bed. “To be honest…no. She looked mad enough to spew fire. But when she’s trying to pull a fast one on someone, she usually has witnesses around to gloat. She may be an itch with a B, but I don’t really think she would go as far as to try and seriously hurt me like trapping me in a fire.”

  “Unless she’s guilty of a prank gone wrong…”

  I chewed on this. “It’s possible. Maybe she did start it as something harmless but it escalated too quickly for her to stop it, so maybe she’s scared she’s going to get expelled, and decided I made the perfect scapegoat. Doesn’t help that I have no flipping memories of that night. Unless…”

  I shot up so fast that Dove let out a squeak of surprise, nearly falling off her bed. “W-what is it?”

  “Memory trauma.” I looked at her, feeling dread and anticipation sink into my flesh, sending goose bumps across my skin. “What if whatever happened that night was so…traumatic that it gave me temporary amnesia? I mean, last semester I thought I was going through it when—you know. That happened.” There was no need to elaborate on what exactly “that” was.

  “It’s all going to come back sooner or later, right?” I continued. “But I need to find out soon.”

  “And what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to go back to the Old Chapel again. Tonight.”

  ○○○

  In typical motherly-like fashion, Dove said there would be no chance in hell (not her words, but mine) of me going off by myself. So she did what I would have done in her situation: she was coming with me.

  We decided to wait until the dead of night, but Dove claimed there shouldn’t be any rush, and to try and get a few good hours of sleep until we headed out. So begrudgingly, I went through the motions of preparing for bed

  —ignoring the shifty looks I got in the girl’s bathrooms—and crawled into my warm covers, heart racing with both fear and determination.

  But long after the lights were off and Dove’s heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, all I could do was lay there with wide eyes, cell phone cradled in my hand as the numbers achingly ticked by.

  My brain refused to rest, replaying my scene with Mallory over and over again like some bad, cheap chick-flick movie. How angry she looked—

  but underneath that ice cold surface I could tell she was in pain. Emotionally. I

  had claimed I never did anything to her—and to some extent, that was true—but in her eyes, the moment he entered my life, I knew it would never be the same again.

  Jackson Alexander. My first crush and boyfriend at St. Mary’s. And as clichéd as it sounds, he was also Mallory’s ex, whom she still loved.

  So here’s the basic gist of what happened: last Christmas, Jack and I had been going steady. I honestly believed he was The One; my own Prince Charming who defended me from those spiteful girls, who believed in me and put up with my dorky, nervous self. He encouraged me in so many ways…

  holding my hand, his gentle hugs…and there was no way I could really forget how wondrous and warm his kisses were, like sending sparkes of fire all throughout my nerves.

  During that whole alchemy and my-fake-heart-might-stop-any-second crisis, Jack had been the one to steady my rocking boat. The only normal thing I could cling to in this small Southern campus.

  But everything had changed when I had discovered where the Elixir that Guinevere had hidden. And the real Jackson Alexander came to light.

  In truth? Jackson Alexander never existed in my life. He had died long before I met him. And by ‘died’ I mean brutally murdered for his body.

  All because of an ancient, evil alchemist named Ivan Novak; the former apprentice of Nicholas Flamel. He and Guinevere used to be friends until Flamel left the Elixir to her after his own “death.” In a rage, Ivan attacked Guinevere, forcing her to take a taste of the Elixir to live but I, and many others, believed that he had died in that accident. But the truth is, he’s been using his alchemy to steal bodies all these years, chasing after Guinevere in hopes of obtaining eternal youth.

  Jackson Alexander was his last victim; he had been taken over with the

  help of the school’s previous Headmistress, Margaret Snowe, who was not only a loyal servant of Ivan Novak, but an alchemist who could control Ice—it matched her eerie, cold exterior way too perfectly. But even she was just another of Ivan Novak’s pawns.

  “But we stopped them…” I whispered to my pillow, my body tensing ever so slightly when I heard Dove shift on her side of the room.

  That’s right. We did: me, Dove and Leon. Though Ivan had slain his loyal servant—whose body is still buried beneath the earth of Bonaventure Cemetery—it was really me who finished the final blow towards Ivan, turning him and Jack’s body into dust.

  It had almost cost me my life. It had almost cost Leon’s life, too. That’s why, when I had finally found the Elixir—that had been placed in my family’s bracelet this whole time—I had used it to save his life, something that I would never ever regret.

  But even though that’s the cold, hard truth, it’s not something you can explain to the police, your family, or even your classmates. I had to lie and tarnish Jack’s reputation as an abusive boyfriend to explain his disappearance, and the rumors swirled like no other: and he and the former Headmistress were both treated as runaways, never to be seen or heard from again.

  Nobody questioned my story when I came back from Winter break, bloody and bruised from head to toe, thanks to what Ivan had done. Everyone mourned for Jack…most of all, Mallory. And I firmly believe that Jack had indeed loved her, something that doesn’t leave me with bitter jealousy, but of pride and fulfillment.

  So I always knew I was to blame for Jack’s disappearance, even if I couldn’t tell the t
ruth. And I just let it be that way. For Mallory’s sake. Because if I were in her shoes, I would want someone to blame with all my heart; I wouldn’t want to feel guilty every single night of not being able to protect the

  one person you love the most.

  ○○○

  Beams of bright light hit me in the face; the back of my eyelids were a bright red and I groaned, snuggling deeper into the blankets. My phone was pressed painfully against my cheek, but I didn’t care. It was only morning, I probably had at least another ten minutes to sleep in—

  It was morning.

  I yanked the covers off, but my legs tangled up in them and I was again sent sprawling on the carpeted floor; the phone still glued to my cheek.

  “Oh. Good morning, Emery.” Dove said softly from her side of the room. I heard the ruffle of clothes and the quick zip of a zipper being pulled up. I untangled myself from the mess and peeled my phone of my sweaty cheek, rubbing the spot that was sure to leave a mark throughout the day. Dove was already dressed up in the summer uniform. I glanced at my phone, seeing it only a little past seven a.m.

  “What’s going on? It’s morning!” I coughed out.

  “Yes. It is.” Dove replied nonchalantly.

  “But I—weren’t we supposed to—”

  “I did that,” she cut me off gently, gathering her books for the day and stuffing them in her white bag. “You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t really want to disturb you, so I set off myself.”

  I was both humiliated at myself for sleeping in and irritated at Dove for not waking me up. “But you still should have woken me up! I need to remember—”

  “I doubt there was anything you could have done, Emery,” she said gently. Before I could protest some more, she reached over to a bundle that

  was wrapped up in a blue bath towel, then came over and sat on the bed next to me. “Everything was destroyed in that fire—nothing was left. Except for this.

  Odd thing to find in an abandoned chapel, don’t you think? And considering how that the school doesn’t have an archery club.”

  I took the wrap gingerly, weighing it carefully in my hands. It was so light, but I could feel something brittle beneath the layers. Slowly, I set the towel on my lap and peeled it open. A choked gasp escaped my throat.

  Dove had found a blackened piece of arrow.

  CHAPTER 12

  A week passed. Seven whole boring days filled with isolation. The rumors may have died down some, but once a snowball starts rolling down the hill it doesn’t stop. It just keeps going and going, getting bigger and bigger by the minute. I was given the cold shoulder by almost everyone, even people I’ve never said a word to!

  But with every new glare I got, an accidental shove on the shoulders, or a foot or purse would be miraculously in my way just as I walked down an aisle, I realized that this wasn’t just Mallory’s doing. Sure, she lit the spark that ignited the flame (probably not a good idea to use fire related puns at the moment…), but everyone wanted someone to blame. All but themselves.

  Because if they believed the police’s theories, the fire could have easily sparked from a cigarette butt that was only tossed into the church by a bunch of drunk, stupid rich students who had nothing better to do and had no real place to hang out and party. Nobody wanted to say “That could have been my light”, so instead they attack the bottom of the social ladder: me.

  So I ignored it all. These stupid rumors would die down. And eventually I would get to the bottom of what really happened. But for now, I had finals I needed to study for. I’ll be damned if I’m going to make B’s on my finals because of a bunch of dumb gossip!

  After a grueling morning of sparring with Leon in drizzly weather, I headed straight for the red bricked library. If there was any place to make me feel safe, the library sure was it.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  The moment I swung open the doors it was as if all eyes turned to me.

  Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration but I swear it felt like the temperature dropped at least twenty degrees. Even one of the librarian’s assistants ignored my wave. My heart stung a little, but I simply shouldered my bag and pushed towards the stairs, taking two at a time until I reached the fourth and final floor. Just as I suspected, it was mostly empty. And quiet. Very, very quiet…

  Until someone let out a surprised shriek, followed by the sound of a whole set of books thumping to the ground like a makeshift drumset. I jogged over to the opposite end and caught sight of a familiar blonde bending over to stuff the black covers back hastily in their places.

  “Samantha?”

  The girl let out another shriek and placed a hand to her chest. “Omigod!

  You scared me!” her bright blue eyes were wide with fright, but then she let out a giggle. I smiled too and bent to help her. It was hard to believe that Samantha used to be under Mallory’s shadow, but she’s shown a great change of heart in the past couple of months, even going so far as to stand on her own two feet.

  She doesn’t hang with Mallory anymore, and that seemed to have made Samantha a brighter, happier person.

  “Thanks, Emery,” Samantha said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately—I’ve just been so jumpy and nervous and…” her voice trailed off, and I finally noticed the heavy circles under her eyes; how the palms of her hands and her bare knees were covered in bandages. Even her face…wow, her face was completely void of all makeup. Odd, for someone who practically made it a living of showcasing her own work (she dreams of being a professional makeup artist one day). I should know; she did my makeup during the Winter Formal, and she made an average Northerner like me look like a sweet southern belle.

  It only took a couple of seconds to guess. “Don’t tell me it’s the—”

  “SHH!” she whispered, slapping a hand on my mouth that left a burning sting. “We aren’t supposed to even breathe a word about that!”

  I yanked her hand off, rubbing my stinging lips. But I spoke in a low voice to keep her from daring off like a frightened rabbit. “Uh, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. I’m not really in it anymore.”

  It didn’t take a genius to know what you weren’t wanted. After the fire at the Old Chapel, I hadn’t received any sort of anonymous text for the next trial.

  Even Karin hadn’t bothered to contact me, and whenever I saw her she always seemed to be avoiding me…

  Man, it hurt worse when your friends turned their backs on you, but I guess as leader of the Magnolia Bells she had no choice but to shun a candidate. Not that I could make my case any better, what with no memory and all. But it looks like the Isabella Trials were still in full effect.

  “Oh, but Emery, you had the best potential of all of us,” Samantha said, glancing over her shoulder as if one of the Sisters may be lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. “And you probably would have really loved tonight’s trial, what with us getting to go to Bonaventure and all—”

  “Bonaventure?” I said, “You mean the cemetery?”

  “OH SHOOT!” Samantha cried out, then clamped her hands tightly over her mouth. She began mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like a

  “Did I really say that? I did, didn’t I?! I am in so much trouble!”

  “Samantha, it’s alright, really. I won’t tell a soul what you said. And it doesn’t matter to me anyway, okay? I think I have a good suspicion of what you’re going to do anyway…” I mumbled that last part, because it was true. If what Samantha says was correct, the her next trial was going to happen off campus. Or below it.

  Of course, I and a select few others knew of a secret that was hidden

  right below our feet, so I kind of had an idea of what they were going to do.

  So after I calmed the jittery girl down and placed the books back, long after Samantha bid her farewell and took off, it clicked.

  Actually, I was right in the middle of highlighting my notes for chemistry when I gazed out one of the large windows, right in the direction of the l
ong gone Old Chapel.

  What if Mallory really, truly was the culprit behind the fire? And what about that weird arrow Dove found? Did it have any connection?

  And if Mallory really was ready to go far to get rid of me…what would she do to make sure every new girl she hated was gone? It was clear she was playing favorites—I still would not shake my suspicions that she had forewarned her little pet Bethany about the upcoming trial, giving her ample time to prepare to get to the first pre-trial without wasting her energy. And now that I was out of the running that left only…depending if everyone else passed the first trial, eleven candidates. And only five spots.

  And Samantha had pretty much stabbed Mallory in the back by walking away from her clique. And that made her an enemy in Mallory’s eyes.

  What was going to happen to Samantha if Mallory had her way?

  I slammed my book so hard I caught a stray hair and pulled it away. As I twisted the lock around my finger, it suddenly dawned on me what I could do…

  if my hunch was correct. Quickly, I gathered my things, shoving them chaotically into my messenger bag. There was no time to waste.

  Mallory sure as hell wasn’t going to get away with anymore malicious pranks—not if I had anything to say about it.

  ○○○

  One of the things I learned about Dove is that, when she is stressed out, a good

  cup of chamomile tea, a bundle of chocolate chip cookies, and Adele playing softly on the radio are the few things that make her so relaxed she’ll fall asleep instantly—and deeply. So much so that it was easy to sneak out in less than an hour after she had fallen asleep, curled up like a cat beneath her comforter.

  Of course I felt super guilty for purposely buttering her up, for making her want to sleep earlier than usual. I knew she must be feeling stressed out about Leon, who has been also equally chipped since their argument last week.

  But I kept pushing myself not to meddle—they were big boys and girls and they could handle their problems just fine.