The Color Alchemist: The Complete Series

by Nina Walker

  He provided an element to the group that was greatly needed: comic relief.

  The flight took hours and by the time we approached our destination, I was aching to stretch my sore legs on the solid ground. If I could just go for a run, everything would feel better.

  “What’s the running situation like on these bases?” I turned to Mastin, forcing him to engage with me.

  “Running situation?”

  “You know? As in, I want to go for a jog when we land. I wondered what the possibility for that is like close to a war zone?”

  He frowned. “We’re heading into a war zone and you’re worried about exercise?”

  Tristan laughed, leaning in to join the conversation. “I thought you’d been living with this girl for the past couple weeks? Don’t you know, if she can’t go running every day, she can’t be held responsible for her actions?”

  I laughed. “It’s true, Mastin. I need my runner’s high if I’m going to have to put up with you.” I winked, and he rolled his eyes, cracking the smallest of smiles.

  There we go!

  “You should be fine in a couple of days, maybe even by tomorrow.” He shrugged. “These war zone bases are huge. But they’re still fortifying this one.”

  I smirked, leaning into him. “It’s your funeral!” I teased.

  The group fell into companionable silence as we continued our flight. I noticed a few of the soldiers eyed me with suspicion, and one’s glare was downright hostile. I narrowed my eyes on one of the soldier’s who’d threatened me my first day on base. He could hate me all he wanted, it wasn’t going to stop me from being part of the mission.

  I turned away. Most of my critics would come around eventually. I chuckled to myself. Not likely.

  “What’s the matter?” Tristan whispered in my ear. His nearness sent a shiver down my spine and for a moment, I lost my train of thought.

  “I think a lot of these guys hate me,” I whispered back.

  He sighed. “Yeah, well, they should be focusing on themselves and not worrying about you. But I’m here now,” he continued, his lips so close now they brushed against my ear. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  A rush of relief washed through me, because I knew what he said was true.

  Whether or not he’d started this mission because of me didn’t matter. He would stick to it, stick with me, because that’s what best friends did.

  I turned slightly toward him. “I hope one day they see me as another member of the troop, you know?”

  He leaned back and studied me, eyes sparked with admiration.

  “It doesn’t matter how they see you, but how you see you,” he leaned back in to whisper.

  I giggled at how corny this conversation had just turned.

  “No fraternizing!” a voice called out, teasing. Tristan and I both turned back in our seats as embarrassment crawled up my spine. Mastin bristled in his seat, folding his arms, his biceps flexing.

  Being a woman in the middle of all this testosterone was tough.

  Not only was I one of only three women on board this chopper, I was the only color alchemist in this army. The likelihood that I’d ever fit in was about the same as King Richard turning himself in for crimes against humanity. Maybe Tristan was right about what mattered most. It was my opinion of myself that mattered.

  Besides, I like standing out.

  There were a few windows in the chopper, and I fiddled with my fingernail as I anxiously watched the scenery below. We would be making up our own base on the other side of Nashville, close enough to the action to jump in when needed, but far enough away for us to have time to fortify a stronghold. Just as we neared the area, the descent of the chopper sending a thrill through my belly, a bomb exploded below. The immediate boom echoed over the land, an audible crack followed by a thunder.

  Everyone tensed, ready to move.

  “Oh hell no!” a man shouted. Angry cussing erupted among the rest.

  “Arm yourselves,” General Scott shouted out, his voice loud over the sound of the rotors and angry troops. “We’re taking out whoever did that. We’ll make them wish they’d never set foot on our soil!”

  The men shouted in agreement, pumping themselves up. They quickly unstrapped themselves and loaded their weapons. I watched Mastin do the same as a nervous sensation tugged deep in my chest.

  Nathan turned toward the pilot up front, barking orders. “Drop us off as close to the explosion point as you can manage.”

  The pilot nodded and we began to descend much faster. The inertia of free-fall shot through my body like whiplash, and I grabbed hold of my own gun resting on my hip, grateful someone had finally armed me. Once I’d boarded the chopper, I’d gotten the weapon, and thanks to Hank’s training, I knew how to use it. But it was the stone necklace, newly refreshed and fastened under my shirt that I was most grateful for. It was the weapon that would make the most difference down there, and I intended to use it.

  We landed softly, the impact a contradiction to the way we jumped out of the chopper. Heads ducked low, we emptied from the machine in a wave of soldiers. We ran, our training taking over as we found cover in the surrounding trees that dotted the base, as well as the few metal-sided buildings that littered the area. A few of the guys took refuge behind a handful of bulletproof vehicles that were parked.

  Mastin was at my side even though I never asked for it. Tristan was as well, but that was expected. The three of us stilled behind a tree, assessing the area. Mastin took point, motioning to the rest of his troop with a series of quick hand movements.

  “Stay here.” He pointed at me.

  “Not happening,” I replied.

  “He’s right,” Tristan added.

  “I’m not having this discussion with you two.”

  Mastin cussed, and we ran, moving closer to the building, which was alive with growing flames. Up ahead, a group of people battled. I recognized the black Guardian outfits. Only these were slightly different. They had full body armor attached to their clothes and the alchemists wore full coverage helmets. Bullets would be hard pressed to slow them unless they hit the perfect spot. Stone chokers, in a myriad of colors, wrapped around the Guardians’ necks. The color shining in the sunlight most was a yellowish amber.

  Super soldiers. Just as Richard had planned.

  The way they moved stunned me. These fighters were a sight to behold. They shook the earth when they ran, tore it away in clumps when they jumped, and when they hit someone, the blow was fatal. A body was thrown twenty feet in the air before crashing against a tank, and I had no doubt that life had just ended.

  I screeched and ran at them, my own magic blaring to life in my veins.

  I pounced on the nearest one, recognizing him instantly through the visor of his helmet. Reed. Popular Reed, the boy who’d had a little fling with Jessa all those months ago. He was a fierce fighter; I’d sparred with him a few times back at the palace. He chuckled as he pushed me to the ground with ease.

  “We were wondering when you’d show up.” He laughed, leaning over me.

  “Here I am!” I shot back, jumping up. “So come and get me!”

  “Oh, I plan on it.”

  He charged, and I met him blow for blow. The second a pain shot through me, I eased it with my green magic. But it seemed he was doing the same; we were an even match and this time, neither one fell. Finally, I ripped off his helmet, tossing it aside. He watched it, momentarily distracted. I swiped at him, gouged my fingers into his skin of his cheeks, fully intending to use my red alchemy and gain the upper hand. But he jumped back and scowled.

  “I won’t let you do that to me,” he shouted, his shadowed eyes two angry black pellets. “Yeah, I figured out your secret after you left, and Faulk told us who you really were, Francesca! I remember you now. I remember your magic. I won’t let you be near my blood. I know your sister already messed with me once! She tried––”

  I didn’t care about his stupid monologue.

  I dived at h
im, reaching out toward a line of blood that dropped down his pale face. A slam knocked me aside and I rolled to the ground, losing my breath. Reed took off running like the coward he was.

  “Fall back!” The man who’d tackled me yelled toward the group of alchemists. “Go!”

  I recognized that voice, too! Branson, the fighting instructor from the palace. A trickle of fear shot through me as our eyes met. I’d seen this man fight before. He was a machine, and if I didn’t manage to use red, I didn’t stand a chance. But I pushed that thought aside and attacked him anyway.

  He let me. He fell to the ground as if he wasn’t even trying. It must be a trick.

  “Wait,” he growled, his voice soft. “I’m Resistance.”

  I froze, leaning over him.

  “What did you just say?”

  “Resistance,” he spat and then turned to look at his Guardians. Most of them had disappeared but a few were still engaged in combat. One was laying on the ground, their body oddly shaped and a ring of blood around a mess of long blonde hair. He pointed to Reed and widened his eyes at me.

  I nodded. That’s right, Reed could listen but not if I could counter it. Blocking blue magic was one very useful ability that I did have. Before I allowed myself to question it, I felt for the blue.

  “If Reed is listening, he can’t hear us now. What do you want?”

  “I can’t stay or I’m dead,” he said in a low voice. “But I’m Resistance and I want to work to help you, help from the other side. I need to make a connection with your leader. Where is he?”

  “You can make a connection with me,” I whispered firmly at him.

  Tristan jumped forward, his gun pointed at Branson, finger hovering over the trigger. I held up a hand and shook my head. He raised an eyebrow but lowered the gun.

  “Fine,” Branson snapped. “I don’t have time for this crap, anyway.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and slipped it into my hand. “That’s a secure address,” he said. “Give it to your highest-ranking officer as soon as possible.”

  I glanced at the crumpled slip of paper, at a nonsensical email address written in hurried script.

  “Fine,” I said. “You’d better be the real deal, Branson, or next time I’ll kill you.”

  “I am.” He chuckled, as if this was a laughing matter. “I’ve been working with Jasmine and the others at the palace for years.”

  “Who are the others?”

  “Hank knows.” He nodded to Tristan, who towered over us. “He probably does too. You’re Tristan?”

  Tristan raised his head once in confirmation. Branson used his magic to push us both back. We fell to the ground and before we could react, he was running away at top speed. He slipped behind the nearest building and was gone.

  “What was that about?” Tristan knelt beside me.

  “He’s Resistance,” I hissed back. “That’s Branson.”

  Tristan’s face lit with recognition, a knowing smile on his lips. “I know the name! Yeah, he’s telling the truth. He’s been loyal to the Resistance for years.”

  I shoved the paper into my pocket with shaky hands, still sitting on my butt like a total idiot.

  “Sasha,” Nathan called out, “over here.” His commanding voice and presence embodied every bit the General he was. Soldiers surrounded him, looking to him for direction. The sun glinted off his dark hair, slick with sweat and even some blood.

  I sprinted, quickly noticing the body lying motionless in the dirt. Her frame was petite and strong like mine. How easily could it have been me in her place? Blood soaked her tangle of blonde hair and when I pulled it aside, I knew the pretty face below me. Brooke.

  “Make sure she’s dead. No one wants to touch her,” Nathan said with a grimace.

  I stilled, studying her. From the looks of it, she was just passed out, not dead. She’d always been such a brat, but she didn’t deserve to die like this. She was a product of her environment. But aren’t we all? At what point are we held responsible for our actions?

  I sighed, fell to my knees, and double checked for a pulse. Below my fingers the thick vein in her wrist moved with the faintest of flutters.

  “She’s alive.” I looking up at Nathan.

  “Kill her,” Mastin added, striding to us with murder in his eyes. Blood dripped down his temple and a dark bruise was already forming across cheek. “She nearly took me out along with the others.” I looked over his shoulder at three bodies being zipped into black body bags.

  “Can you save her?” Nathan asked.

  I nodded. With green magic, it would be easy.

  “Do it,” he replied. “Don’t bring her to full health. I don’t want her waking up for a while. Just give her enough to not have any permanent damage.”

  He turned to Tristan. “Any idea how we can safely put this girl into prison and interrogate her?”

  He reached down and carefully unlatched the necklace from around her neck, tossing it aside in the dirt. “Start with removing any color from her.” He motioned to me. “But honestly, it’s Sasha you should be asking. She just broke out of an alchemist prison, after all.”

  All the nearby soldiers stared at me. There were about thirty of them altogether, and they glowered at me like I was a bomb about to explode.

  “It’s true,” I said, relenting. “If I can break out of King Richard’s prison, then maybe I can help you keep Brooke in ours.”

  “We don’t have a prison for alchemists,” someone grumbled from the back of the crowd.

  No kidding.

  I stood and brushed off the dirt and grass, taking my sweet, sweet, time. The fear that I was making a huge mistake prickled at the back of my mind, but what choice did I have? It was time to show these people just how valuable I was.

  “You don’t have one yet,” I said, “but with my help, you’ll have the best one on this side of the border. And maybe if you listen to me and we do things the right way, we’ll be able to add a few of her magical friends in there to keep her company.”

  They erupted in shouts of agreement, and I smirked. Mastin stalked away in a fury and Tristan put his hand on my back. I knelt down to take care of Brooke, and as I did, the thought pricked at me again, demanding attention.

  Be careful. You might just find yourself locked in that prison as well.

  17

  Jessa

  Since the fire, the palace wall, gate, and grounds swarmed with security. But on the inside, only the most trusted of the guards, officers, and advisors were allowed to move freely about the palace. Even the newer alchemists weren’t allowed to leave the GC wing. No exceptions. They had come from West America, so suspicion was cast upon them. In the meantime, Faulk was conducting interviews. She was shriller than ever, and I didn’t envy anyone on the receiving end of that woman.

  Somehow, the fire had traveled through the royal wing, but had stopped just before reaching my dance studio. I’d still been permitted to use it, thankfully. And I did, every moment I could. After the stress of everything, my legs were sorer than they’d been in ages, but I didn’t care. Dance was my only solace left in this place.

  I was back in my old dorm room. Work crews had set out to restore the burned areas of the royal wing, but it would be months before anyone would be living there.

  Either way, I wouldn’t be in this dorm for long. The morning sun filtered in through the small window, and I stared at the stark white walls. They wouldn’t be my walls for long.

  Some of the other guest rooms had been taken over for Lucas and Richard. By this time next week, I’d be living with Lucas as a married woman. I could hardly bring myself to think about it, but it was coming whether I was ready or not. The wedding planning was complete. The date was set. Richard refused to let the fire slow things down. He said postponing would show weakness. The marriage was a fast-rolling ball nobody could stop.

  I’d accepted it, deciding to enjoy my last week to myself.

  Today, however, not so much…

  Exhibition num
ber three, the final one, was taking place in the palace’s largest ballroom tonight, in the very same place as the first attack. My stomach churned, thinking about what another exhibition would mean. And again, every time I remembered that terrible night Jasmine had died. As I laid in bed, blinking away the sleep, watching the room grow brighter with the rising sun, I knew I’d have face the scene of the crime again tonight.

  I rolled over and groaned into my pillow. I still missed Jasmine. She’d been someone I could lean on, someone to tell me what to do. Now I was on my own. Sure, I had Madame Silver. Maybe not at the moment but she’d be back in a few months. And I had Lily and Jose, but they felt more like allies, not mentors. It was up to me to stop the King.

  I had to do it. Get Richard alone. Use my red alchemy.

  An impatient series of quick knocks sounded on my door. I rolled out of bed, stretching as I padded to answer it. The same two cosmetologists from the disastrous exhibition at the lodge stood outside, smiling at me from ear to ear.

  “You, dear Jessa, are going to have an amazing day!” the woman said. Her name was Lainey; she did the makeup. Lars did hair. I only remembered because their names went together comically well. I sighed and held open the door.

  “Come in.”

  They pushed past me, assessing the space.

  “Oh, this bathroom is quite small,” Lars said with a huff. “But I guess it will have to do. Such ghastly news about the fire. So glad your beautiful fiancé made it out okay.”

  Lainey opened a tiny black folding chair in the center of the bathroom and promptly proceeded to lay out a million makeup and hair products across the counter.

  “What time is the exhibition?” I eyed the things they’d brought along today.

  “Oh, it’s not until five,” she replied.

  Tonight?

  “Then why are you here so early?” I questioned. “I haven’t even had breakfast yet. Come back this afternoon.”

  They shared a knowing look and my suspicion burned deep.

  “Don’t worry, someone will be delivering your meals today,” Lainey said. “We have very specific instructions about how your hair and makeup are to be done and it’s going to take quite some time and effort.”