Alchemist (The Four Corners of Santerria)

by Terry Reid

  The man shook his head. “He destroyed the emergency shelter in the parliament, that’s how he got me.”

  “What about the other ministers? Where are they?”

  He turned pale. “He killed most of them and their apprentices. I fear the only ones still alive are those who weren’t working today.”

  “Let us hope they are okay, but in the meantime we must get down from here.” He insisted, hurrying the man along. The Prime Minister did not have to be told twice.

  Edward glanced over his shoulder. He had dropped to a quick pace, making his way down deserted back alleys. As he looked back round, he came face to face with a wall of water. The mini tsunami carried him back down the way he had came, before smashing him into a building.

  He picked himself up in time to deflect the next wave with a blast of air, steering it to crash over a block of flats to his right. He looked about as water rained down about him. “Why don’t you come out where I can see you Faye?”

  The raindrops froze in midair. Suddenly they rushed inward, forming a solid ball around him. He spun around and around before the ball froze, sealing him in. A body of water reared up, shaping itself into Faye. Terry emerged from her hiding spot, somersaulting down from a nearby rooftop.

  “Nice move.” She said, catching up. “Can you keep him like that while we get him to Rufus?”

  “We’re not waiting for Rufus we need to finish this, now.”

  Terry was affronted. “We talked about this.” She said, lowering her voice. “If you destroy his body, he’ll only escape again.”

  “We’ll keep him frozen then.”

  “For how long? You can’t keep him frozen forever. That body he’s in will still die and he’ll just escape again. We need to get him to Rufus.” With that said, she started to walk away.

  Faye did not follow. “I told you, I’m not taking him to Rufus. He failed to kill him last time. How do we know he’ll get it right now?”

  An explosion nearby caused them both to flinch. “We don’t have time for this! Rufus has a plan! It will work! Now let’s go!”

  “I’m not taking him. He killed my boyfriend, I should get to do with him as I see fit.”

  Frustrated, Terry stormed back toward the water elemental and jabbed a finger at her. “This isn’t the time for you to go off on one. We’re in the middle of a warzone!”

  “Then let me do what I want and I will make sure he suffers!”

  “He’ll kill you before you get a chance or escape before you get a chance! Now pull yourself together, we have a plan to stick too!” Having the final word, she turned away. The last thing Terry saw was the floor tumbling toward her.

  Standing over the fallen Alchemist, Faye tossed the ice-wrapped stone aside. Grabbing her feet, she dragged her into the relative safety of a nearby, narrow alleyway. Hiding her poorly behind some wooden crates, she returned to her frozen prisoner.

  ******

  “Fallo!” shouted Lyle as he arrived at the city gates, skipping the formalities. The King turned at his name, alarm falling across his face as he saw his brother and Rufus carrying his unconscious daughter; Connor running not far behind. The lieutenant he was speaking to bowed and withdrew, though no-one paid any heed.

  Fallo sprinted to them, his movements unhindered by his thick, heavy, armour. Lyle and Rufus lowered her to the ground. “What happened?” Fallo demanded, lifting Terry’s head into his lap. His hand fell across the wet, bloodied hair at the back of her head.

  “I tried to heal her, but the damage is too great. Her skull isn’t fractured but it’s dented in the way.” Lyle said, crouching down beside her. “I couldn’t risk going in there, I’m sorry. I’ve never dealt with head injuries before.”

  “I see brother.” Fallo replied coolly, carefully examining his daughter’s head. “Have you seen any of her probes or the flesh trying to heal?”

  “No.”

  Fallo pulled her head higher into his lap, turning it so he could see the wound more clearly. One of his tentacles pushed free from under his plates and twisted toward her – hissing in alarm at the sight of the injury. Its jaws clamped shut and its head mutated into thousands of wiry tendrils. The silvery wires crawled under her hair, covering the wound in a mesh of pewter. Fallo shut his eyes as he held her head in place.

  Rufus stared on in silent awe. He had researched the Alchemist race intimately, but he had never seen nor heard tell of what he was witnessing now. He knew of their inexhaustible regenerative abilities, but he had always believed they met their limit when it came to repairing something as fragile and complicated as the mind. Clearly there were some secrets that the ancient race kept to them alone.

  The minutes seemed to drag by like an eternity. After what seemed liked hours Terry had failed to show any movement and Rufus began to doubt that she would pull through.

  Then suddenly, like a switch being flipped, her eyelids shot open and she screamed, lurching forward. It took Fallo all his strength to hold her down; lest she inadvertently rip the delicate tendrils that still held her mind. The surge passed and she came to rest in his arms, her breathing ragged. Her gaze locked with his, her icy pupils welling with relief. Then she said something in their native tongue, to which Fallo smiled and replied.

  After a few minutes the silvery tendrils began to withdraw; one of Fallo’s familiar probes taking over the repair. The device took a glance at the wound and digging its spindly legs into her scalp, began to stimulate the cells into regeneration. Satisfied she was fully healed, it withdrew, disappearing beneath Fallo’s armour, like his tentacle.

  Terry sat up, gripping her dad tightly as he cuddled her. She shut her eyes and wept, speaking again in their ancient language. Fallo replied in kin. Then the King lifted his gaze, his eyes burning as they met Lyle, Rufus and Connor. “How did this happen?”

  It was Lyle who spoke. “We found her in a backstreet behind some crates.”

  “I know a wound when I see a blunt object to the head when I see one. Who did this?”

  Lyle shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Fallo looked at his daughter, and he asked her in words unfamiliar.

  Terry hesitated, rubbing her eyes. The back of her head continued to throb with a dull pain and her eyes hurt. Finally, she shook her head and grimaced.

  Fallo slowly stood, helping his daughter to her feet. He looked at the other three, his anger palpable. “This is exactly along the lines of what I feared would happen if I let you do things your own way. You may have defeated Edward before and that is commendable but this time the price has been far too high.” He looked around them all. “I’ll finish this.”

  “Fallo...” said Connor.

  The King turned to face him, his eyes ablaze at his impotence. “Don’t you dare boy...”

  Connor held his gaze and was about to speak but Lyle gripped his arm and shook his head.

  Terry slowly turned her head, her vision dark. She ignored the exchange and lifted her head skyward, as if searching for something.

  Her uncle noticed. “Terry?” The others looked at her.

  Her eyes moved between them. “What?” She asked, bluntly.

  “Are you ok?” Lyle asked.

  She straightened, offended by the question. “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Nothing...just...you seemed distracted.”

  Her eyes blazed. “I’m not distracted. I have Edward’s scent.” She looked at her father. “Or at least the body he is masquerading in.”

  Fallo rose to his full height of six foot three. Even in his Alchemist form he exhumed a dangerous, yet graceful air that commanded authority. He was as intimidating as he was regal and as deadly as he was beautiful.

  And what Lyle noticed about Terry escaped the others. For the first time she stood with the same air as her father. The changes in her posture were subtle and would have went unnoticed to most, but for someone who had seen her grow up from a child, the difference was as clear as a fresh water river after the spring m
elt.

  The seasoned general suddenly felt a stirring deep within him and he too rose to his full posture; something he was only consciously aware of having observed his niece. Under normal circumstances he would have done it without thought, but her reaction had made him notice his own this time.

  Fallo’s icy eyes passed between his brother and daughter. “We do it my way.” He said. The King expected a protest from her but what Terry said next surprised everyone. “We hunt.” It was a statement, not a question.

  A flash of affection darted across Fallo’s face then vanished. But the fleeting expression was not lost on Terry and her eyes betrayed her love for him.

  “You cannot kill him, he will just escape again.” Rufus blurted, risking life and limb to state the obvious.

  Fallo’s head snapped round, his narrow eyes falling on him.

  But Terry spoke before he could vent his rage on the alien. “That’s why you are coming with us. We need a plan to end this once and for all.” She approached Rufus. “And if there is anyone on the face of this planet who can come up with a cunning plan, it’s you.” She looked at Connor and smiled. “Also, Connor’s pretty good in a fight.”

  His grim expression brightened. “Just don’t tread on me. Reanimated creatures trying to eat me and people throwing projectiles does not frighten me.” His smile broadened. “But you stepping on me as your primeval self does.”

  Terry’s smile widened. “If you’re stupid enough to stand in the way, you deserve it.”

  Connor laughed, for a few moments forgetting the heavy anxiety and worries that troubled him.

  Rufus delved into his satchel, withdrawing a device, akin to a small gun. “I still have this, it wasn’t damaged during our first encounter with Edward but unfortunately I could not get close enough to use it.”

  Lyle frowned at the device. It looked familiar. “Is that the same one we used the first time we caught him?”

  “Yes.”

  He was disappointed. “I thought you said you were going to come up with a new idea? This doesn’t work. If it had, Edward wouldn’t be here.”

  Terry raised a hand to him for silence. “But it can hold him, which is all we need so we can deliver the final blow.”

  Curiosity piqued, Fallo approached. “You speak like you know how to defeat him daughter.”

  She gazed at him, her expression confident. “I do father. But I do not want to do it without your approval.”

  Connor and Rufus exchanged a surprised glance. They had never seen her speak so properly to the King before.

  “Then tell me.”

  Terry looked at the others and said, “Could you give us a moment?”

  They all looked surprised. But instead of questioning her, they all quietly moved away.

  Turning to her father, Terry asked, “Shall we take a walk?”

  Fallo inclined his head and they headed off.

  They only walked a few hundred yards but it was far enough for them to be out of earshot and enough time for Terry to explain her plan to the King. Once she had finished, he remained silent for the longest time, standing and regarding her; his expression betraying no hint of what he thought of the idea.

  Finally he asked; “Who told you this?”

  Her eyes widened. “You knew this all along?”

  “Yes. But it never crossed my mind as a way in which we could kill him. The Phantoms are like a cancer, like a thought or an idea spoken by one person to a crowd, once implanted they are hard to eradicate. It had never been done before and I have never heard tell of the method you’re suggesting being successful or even if it has ever been tried.”

  Terry gave a slight nod, seeing his point.

  “You did not answer me though.” He said. “Who told you about this? I do not know anyone else who knows this theory.”

  Terry shrugged, a very human emotion coming to the fore. “No one, I worked it out myself.”

  A smile touched his lips. “Or did you glean it from me when I was repairing your mind?”

  Terry shook her head. “No. I worked it out.” She smiled, “Or more the broken part of my mind did.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Your uncle is right, you’re not the same. There’s a presence about you...”

  Terry met his gaze. “I am whole again.” She said proudly.

  A smile split his face and he flung his arms around her, an embrace that nearly took the wind from her; but she loved it. There was no conflict in her mind, no voices, no warring emotions, just her.

  When they returned, Connor, Rufus and Lyle looked at them with questioning expressions. But no one dared ask what they had discussed less they provoke the King’s wrath.

  Fallo looked at the three men, Terry standing quietly by his side. “Gentlemen. Let’s go capture this Phantom.” And he smiled; the most terrifying thing they had ever seen.

  Chapter 23

  Edward

  A football sized block of ice smacked Edward across the head. His skull exploded in pain as red spots danced across his field of vision. A line of blood trickled from his temple, causing his skin to suddenly feel very hot.

  He smirked at his attacker. “Is that all you’ve got?”

  Faye circled him from a distance, her eyes fixed on the murderer. Even in her desire to kill him, she remained wary of getting too close. Phantoms could not jump to another host if they were more than a few of feet away and then, many of them could only do a transfer by direct contact between the two hosts.

  She had bought him to the sub-basement of a deserted apartment block. The building had not been damaged in the attack by the reanimated Alchemists, but they were still rampaging about above their heads. All it would take would be one to grow too close and Edward could work his will into getting it to attack the building. Then regardless of if his body died or not, he could simply vanish into the air like a spectre. But his influence was diminished when did, like it was dulled by distance. Phantoms could possess another being into doing anything they desired, but once separated, they became mere puppets to the single drive slotted inside their head. They could never perform complicated tasks not without their controller close by.

  “I can do worse.” Faye said, as she disappeared behind him. He followed her as far as she gaze would allow without straining. She had wrapped two chains around his arms and weighted them with barrels she had found in the cellar. Then she had frozen the chains and barrels, encasing his wrists in ice.

  “But I want to take my time and enjoy it. A quick death is unfit for someone like you.”

  His lip curled in the corner. “Faye, Faye, Faye.” He said his eyes filled with dark amusement. “I experience death all the time when my hosts die. For a while it always feels like I’m being dragged with them before they go. I have been tortured, I have been mutilated, but it is all just the pain of the flesh. You can’t really hurt me.”

  She paused, holding his gaze. “We’ll see.” She slowly turned her back and walked away from him. Reaching the far wall, she turned back to face him. “There is one thing I would like to know before you die. That night you attacked us at Cresswell. Why did you accuse Terry of killing your wife?”

  Edward stared darkly at her for a minute. Then he relaxed, a thin, evil smirk forming across his lips. “Don’t try to play mind games with me.”

  “I’m not. You said you wanted to get back at her for killing your wife.” She moved closer. “Terry never killed your wife; she died at the hands of the Kamari.”

  He strained against his icy shackles, but they did not give. “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not and neither was Terry.” She observed his obvious discomfort at the subject. “It’s ironic. I thought it was one of your mind games, another trick, like the one where you tried to turn the nations against each other. But it isn’t, you really believe that, don’t you?”

  Edward strained again, but the ice refused to give. Then he turned on her, a feral look in his eye. For a moment Faye thought he would break free. “Liar!” he spa
t. “You were there! You saw her die!”

  She stepped back, horrified. “What are you talking about?”

  “You killed her! You killed her!” he screamed. The ice around his hands broke, the icy chain on his left wrist snapping. He stormed toward her.

  Faye retreated, only having enough time to throw a small block of ice at him, which he blocked with his arm – his frostbitten hand swinging limply as he raised it. He swung his other arm, whipping the end of the broken chain toward her. She tried to turn and run but it struck her across the face and back with an air-slicing snap. She stumbled to the ground, head reeling.