by Nina Walker
Granted, alchemy was a very important part of New Colony’s success. My great-grandfather was the one who had created the GC. But over the last few decades, Richard had built an empire based on the extraordinary uses of color alchemy. He’d dived into the project as no one else before him, looking for the most talented alchemists and taking their skills to the limit. I’d seen myself how they’d depleted some of our rural areas of color. What was left could only be described as utter devastation. To keep everything quiet he’d enlisted only the brightest minds to become royal officers…like Faulk. Their job was to make sure things ran smoothly and that no alchemist stepped out of line.
Even if he would never admit it, I suspected my father would have done anything to be an alchemist. Since he wasn’t, the next best thing was to control those who were. And just to make sure no one became more powerful than the royals, he’d created strict laws governing the guardians. Appointing non-alchemists to police their activities and oversee training was just one more way to stay on top. People like Faulk only had power because he said they did.
I think it helped that guardians were first brought to the palace at such a young age. Color alchemy was something that developed quickly. Not in infants or toddlers, but in young children. Most of the GC didn’t have many memories of their families. The palace was their only home.
But things couldn’t be all bad or else guardians would rebel, wouldn’t they? So in return for their obedience, they were provided with lavish lifestyles, not too unlike us royals. They mostly resided in the palace, in their own immaculate areas. GC headquarters were off limits. I, of course, could go there. A prince could pretty much go anywhere. Despite that, I had intentionally avoided anything GC outside of special assignments from my father.
I was in a delicate position. I had too much knowledge of deadly repercussions of alchemy, but not enough power to actually change anything.
After a few more minutes browsing through my research, I found what I was looking for. On the sleek screen was the list of names I’d slowly compiled of those alchemists who had been incarcerated. Most of them had been locked up because they weren’t able to control their dangerous talents, but some were on this list because they had refused to join the GC. These were the ones who had rebelled. And if there was one thing I knew about my father, rebellion was squashed immediately.
Next to each name, I’d noted what information I’d uncovered, if any. I began searching for something to indicate why Faulk had said the Loxley family was trouble.
Marissa Levi: Lost control of her mind, became increasingly violent with each attempt. Entered training at age 5, was placed in custody at age 11.
I knew that “custody” was the polite way of saying that this Marissa girl was sent to a mental institution. Had she really lost her mind?
Jackson Spears: Repeated refusal to use his abilities. After three attempted suicides, he was placed in isolation, deemed a danger to himself and others. Started his training at age 8, joined the guard at age 15, incarcerated at age 16.
I remembered him. Jackson had been a natural talent, but he’d hated to use his powers and he couldn’t control his mind. He had turned out to be deadly. In fact, he’d almost killed another alchemist in the final suicide attempt that had landed him in solitary confinement. I often wondered if coming here at eight years old had been too late for Jackson. If they’d gotten to him sooner, would he have been happier?
The list continued, reaching back through the last fifty years since the formation of the Guardians of Color. I’d added anything I could find about people not being able to control it and what happened to them.
I was looking for something—anything—that would lead back to Jessa.
The public believed that color alchemists popped up at random. That was true sometimes. But most often, color alchemy could be tracked through DNA. The problem was that many people were born with the trait and never developed any powers. But they were marked at birth and then watched closely. All citizens were now required to submit to genetic testing as infants. That was probably my father’s idea. I wondered how Jessa had kept herself hidden for so long. Maybe she was telling the truth.
About 30 percent of the population had the genetic trait, but less than 0.1 percent ever needed to be taken into custody by the GC. The trait usually stayed dormant. Like it had with our family. We actually were part of the 30 percent, but not the 0.1 percent. I suspected my father had tried to find a way to somehow activate alchemy in himself, but with no success.
I continued to comb through my research.
Since it ran in families, it was very likely that somewhere along the line, Jessa had a family member who was an alchemist. All I could hope was that we’d known about them. It would provide tremendous insight into her training. Just as regular talents were passed down through families, so were specific color-alchemy abilities. Maybe she had a family member out there who knew more about her alchemy than she did.
Someone who could help us understand how she’d separated the purple into red and blue. As it stood, none of our trainers could do that.
My records included information about people who were trained but never actually initiated as members of the GC. While this information was technically off limits, I’d found ways around that problem. Sure, it took time, but I’d been at this for years.
I continued to scan my notes until I found it.
Francesca Loxley: Training began at age 5, initiation into the GC at age 6, and went missing from guardian custody at age 9. Whereabouts unknown.
Whereabouts unknown?
Whoever this girl was, she was young while she was at the palace. That was not unusual. She would have been trained by the GC, as everyone was given a shot. I wondered why they had initiated her so quickly. Six-year-olds were not ready to be full-blown guardians, at least not that I was aware of.
Unfortunately, I had nothing else on file for Francesca except a few dates. But dates were valuable.
Francesca went missing eleven years ago. If she was still alive, then she would be nineteen. Jessa would have only been three years old when Francesca was taken. Even if they were related, Jessa probably wouldn’t remember her—assuming her parents had kept the whole thing a secret, which was possible. I knew there had to be more to the story than Faulk and Richard were telling me.
Could I question Jessa’s parents? Find out if they knew Francesca? The easier solution would be to sneak into the royal officer’s computers and find the information myself. I’d done it a few times over the years. But with Faulk watching my every move, I wasn’t so sure of myself.
Francesca was my clue as to why Faulk was so distrusting of Jessa and her family. I couldn’t be sure yet, but I suspected that Francesca was Jessa’s older sister. A sister who was also an alchemist.
That begged the question: Where was Francesca now?
Either Jessa was as clueless as she acted or she was hiding something even bigger than I could have imagined.
A long-lost sister.
I needed someone in the GC on my side. I’d worked with different guardians on random assignments, but never one-on-one like this. Not how I would be working with Jessa. She would be taught by other guardians, of course, but those guardians weren’t allowed to actually oversee the whole process. My father had always put his best non-alchemist royal officers—a mixture of scientists, soldiers, and the government’s various “secret weapons”—in charge of those matters. But I still didn’t understand why Richard had given me the assignment of working with Jessa. Why not Faulk or someone else with more experience? I had resolved that keeping Jasmine around would be best for me, and I wanted to make sure Richard would stay on board with that.
I found him alone in his large office. This surprised me, as my father typically spent his time in other, less private, areas of the palace. He was leaning over a map on the desk, concentration etched into his brow.
“What do you need, son?” My father motioned me into the room.
I took a seat in one of the large chairs and glanced at the map. There were red pins stuck in clusters around the edges of the country. I recognized the areas to be shadow lands. Places where our overuse of alchemy had destroyed everything. Crops, animals, even people, all gone.
“What are you going to do about that,” I said, pointing to the map.
Richard didn’t bother to look up at me. We’d already had this argument. He wasn’t going to change his mind. He didn’t care what sacrifices were made for power. He thought I would see his side soon enough.
“It’s nothing we need to talk about right now, Lucas. What do you need?”
I sighed, pushing down my anger, knowing I was doing something.
“I want to know why you assigned me to Jessa Loxley,” I said, changing the topic.
He looked up from the map and leaned back in his chair. “You don’t want the assignment?”
“I didn’t say that. It just seems more important than any of the ones you’ve given me before.”
“And this concerns you?” He laughed. “Well, that’s a bad sign.”
“Just tell me why.”
“Your mother has been wanting me to give you more responsibilities. And since you turned eighteen, I’ve been looking for something. When you came to the prison in defense of the girl, I figured it would be a good place to start.”
Could it really be that simple?
I’d essentially been my father’s apprentice since I was a young boy. I’d go on little errands with him or sit in on boring meetings. As I got older, I went on trips with him as well, but nothing exciting ever happened. It wasn’t like we were going to fight wars or anything. They were usually just marketing campaigns to sway public opinion.
Most of my time growing up was spent with tutors, reading, playing games with my nannies, or running around outside. Sometimes I’d find the other children in the palace, all guardians in training, and we’d play. But as soon as my parents figured that out, they stopped it. I cried for hours the first time they separated me from my friends.
They told me I was above the alchemists and that I would never fit in with such strange children. I was forbidden to play with them from that day onward. It had broken my heart, and I’d gone back to being lonely, a child in a world of busy adults.
Mom probably felt guilty about that, because as I grew up, she started bringing in other children for me to spend time with—the offspring of government officials, celebrities, and her society friends.
As a teen, I demanded more. I tried to get permission to go to a public school in the city. But Richard wouldn’t allow it. As their only child, I was too valuable to leave the palace. So instead, I had to be content with my personal tutors and the occasional pre-screened play date. But once we started going to parties, I began connecting with other teenagers. Email, phone calls, and video chats kept things going between meetings.
It had worked out okay in the end. By the age of thirteen, I had decided it was better to keep others at a distance, anyway. By fifteen, everything changed when girls started taking notice. Actually, they became obsessed with “winning” the prince. I used it to my advantage when I wanted, and when I didn’t, I ignored them.
But then everything in my world changed. I’d started to suspect that maybe Richard wasn’t who I thought he was. And recently, I learned about the shadow lands, and then the email came about the deaths. It was what I needed to make a decision. If I was going to change anything, I had to work with the Resistance. And maybe Jessa was our way to change things.
“There are plenty of things you could assign me to. But overseeing the training of Jessa Loxley? I mean, the girl pulled from lavender and then shifted it into primary colors. It’s a big job. I can do it. I know I can do it. But…”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Why are you suddenly taking an interest in me?”
There had to be a catch. Only a couple of months ago I’d found out about the extremes my father was doing with his color experiments. I didn’t want to believe them, but I think I’d always known, deep down. After making contact with the woman from the Resistance, the one I’d met in the palace gardens, she’d confirmed it. There was no life left in the shadow lands. There was nothing.
“I’ve always had an interest in you,” Richard replied. “But do I need to remind you that you were the one who came out to see her? You defended her.”
He was right. The image of her falling to the stage flashed through my mind. So did the way she’d collapsed when those guards had dropped her, handcuffed and blindfolded. I realized that something about Jessa reminded me of myself. Sure, we came from opposite ends of the social spectrum, but we had one thing in common: our lives weren’t our own.
“Yes. I did defend her.”
“Why did you do that?”
“What do you mean? I told you, she’s worth too much to just lock up.” It wasn’t a lie.
“You’ve never taken a particular interest in color alchemy before. So why this girl?”
“She’s not a regular alchemist. She has something more. I’m just not exactly sure what it is yet.” I paused. “I know Mom’s condition is chronic, and the doctors have said that we can only treat it, not cure it. But what if…”
“What if Jessa could heal her?” He frowned.
“I’ve wondered. Maybe there’s a way.”
“I agree that Jessa’s powerful. We’ve already seen her separate the primary colors from purple. That alone could prove to be invaluable. But your mother’s migraines aren’t going anywhere. The best doctors have all confirmed this. All we can do is keep Natasha comfortable.”
Something about his tone bothered me. It was cold. Final.
“So then what do you want Jessa for?” I suspected I already knew the answer. Even if he wasn’t going to tell me, I still had to ask.
He smiled, pressing clasped hands to his lips. “To make this country stronger.”
Hope laced his every word, and I had a sinking feeling we had two distinct definitions.
“I need you to be a part of this,” Richard said. “As my heir, I need you to fully comprehend why we do things the way we do. I think Jessa is the key to fixing everything.”
Except his own wife. I looked away, attempting to ignore the ache. What could he possibly want fixed outside of that? New Colony was already the most powerful nation on Earth.
I glanced at the map and its clusters of red pins. They reminded me of what I was fighting for. Whom I was fighting against. Could I be the only one? I knew of the Resistance, but even they seemed so small. How many people out there knew what I knew? How many would be willing to help us?
Richard caught my eye, caught me staring at the red pins.
“One day, Lucas, you’ll understand.”
No. I wouldn’t. I got up to leave.
“Don’t mess this up. You won’t get a second chance.”
“About that. You know that Faulk assigned a young guardian to help with Jessa’s training?”
“Reed is an asset. What’s the problem?”
“No problem, except that I don’t think he’s got enough going for him to help someone like Jessa all on his own. I’ve asked another alchemist, Jasmine, to also step in and assist.”
“I know who she is. She’s one of your mother’s favorites. Are you asking for my permission?”
“No, actually, I’m not.”
I turned the corner and walked down the hallway of our secluded residence, intending to find a distraction. Maybe go for a run?
But there was someone I needed to talk to first. I switched direction and headed instead for my parents’ bedroom, knocking gently on the door before entering the darkened room.
“Mother, are you in here?” I whispered. I slowly walked toward the canopied bed and found her lying in a heap, with several pillows propped up behind her. A cool washcloth was draped across her pale forehead. Her auburn hair was fanned around her like a fiery halo.
“Lucas,” she smiled
. “How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m good, Mom.” Something about that word felt comforting. The last few years, I’d taken to calling her by her name, Natasha. So much about her had changed over time. She used to be spirited, fun, playful, and nurturing. But all of that had disappeared as her illness took over.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“I just wanted to check on you. How do you feel?”
“Oh, you know. It comes and goes. They’ve been worse lately, but farther apart. So that’s good.”
“I don’t know if I’d call that a good thing.”
“Well, at least it allows me to get back out into public when I’m feeling up for it. I’d rather have really good days and really bad ones. Not being stuck in here with the lights off constantly.”
“I guess you’re right.” I stood up from the edge of the bed, not sure what else to say. This conversation was depressing, and I wanted to get out.
“Will you call for Jasmine to come to me?” she asked.
“You know Jasmine well?” I was curious about their relationship now, since my mother had never mentioned her before, but Richard had.
“Oh, yes.” She smiled. “I’m afraid I’m not much use around here. Jasmine helps with the pain. We’ve become friends these last few years.”
Friends? I wondered how my father felt about his queen being friends with a color alchemist. I studied her, holed up in this darkened room. My heart sank as I realized that maybe Richard was right. Maybe there was nothing we could do to help. But somehow, I knew I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. I needed to get Jessa trained and figure out what powers she actually had. And to do that I needed her to trust me. I knew it was wishful thinking, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe Jessa could not only help the Resistance, maybe she could save my mother.
“Something’s wrong.” Mother grabbed her head, pushing her palms against her ears.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
