The Color Alchemist: The Complete Series

by Nina Walker

  I dropped the gun. It scattered across the floor and a guard scooped it up before I had a chance to reconsider.

  Faulk snaked through the crowd, shoving people twice her size out of her way. Her white uniform gleamed pristine. Venom poisoned her eyes, pure and unfiltered hatred, as she moved toward me. “That’s enough out of you, Miss Loxely.”

  Defiance roared up inside like an untamed lion. The lion and the snake. Who would win? I had little power in this situation, but at least I had my wit, at least I had my voice. “Actually, it’s Mrs. Heart now, remember?”

  She shoved me to the ground, my face slamming against the smooth marble. Pain ripped across my jaw, blood filling my mouth. I spat it across the floor in an arc of spilled rubies. If only I could use my own blood on someone else, then I could get out of this situation in seconds; but unfortunately, it didn’t work that way.

  “We are taking you to see Reed now.”

  She wrenched my hands behind my back, and once again, I felt the cold sharp grip of metal handcuffs snapping around my wrists. “It’s about time you answered for your sins.”

  I shivered on my cot and pressed my back against the wall. Three days of interrogation and my resolve was breaking to pieces. Weak, tired, and hungry, my emotions fought my determination. A lone bulb shone light from the middle of the room, illuminating the concrete floor, lighting the gray box. Even smaller than the palace prison cells, the place was beginning to eat away at me. No windows and one door. No way out. I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, wishing I could relieve the anxiety long enough to sleep. At least sleep was a temporary out.

  So far, only Reed had used his magic on me. His influence was strong, stronger than I remembered. But it wasn’t foolproof, and my willpower was even stronger. I’d revealed most of my incriminating past, but I had yet to give up any actual names. Maybe I could make it out of this place.

  Maybe no one else had to die because of me.

  The door opened and Faulk stomped in. She looked down on me with disdain as she curled her lip and glared.

  “Back so soon?” Antagonizing her wasn’t going to do me any favors, but I couldn’t resist.

  “It’s my job to get answers out of you, and now that I know you’re Resistance, I will not stop until I do. You have names. One way or another, you will give them to me.”

  She spoke with absolute certainty, but we’d been at this for days, and as far as I could tell, she wasn’t getting anywhere. Blue meant influence, it meant suggestion and persuasion, but it wasn’t control. It wasn’t red.

  “I don’t know what else you expect.” I shrugged. “You already brought me all the way down here and that didn’t change anything.”

  Her eyes narrowed in challenge.

  The suite in the palace had been a much cushier jail cell than this. Now that I was on the frontline where the bulk of the alchemists and real officers were, things had gotten more serious. They’d thrown me into this dark and slightly humid room as if suffocating me would get me to talk. Reed had been so smug at first, but as the interrogations continued and he failed to extract any names from me, he’d become frustrated—right along with Faulk.

  Proof that there was a silver lining to everything—even this.

  “Where’s Reed?” I tilted my head.

  “He won't be coming today,” Faulk replied.

  I chuckled. “Oh, scared him off, did I?”

  She smiled. “I thought it was time we changed tactics.”

  I’d expected this, but still a shiver of dread mocked me.

  “Come to beat it out of me, have you?” I stood from the cot, yanking my gray oversized t-shirt over my squared shoulders. “Try your best.”

  Since my handcuffs had been removed shortly after my arrival, I could fight back. Color or not, I did remember what Branson had taught me. I should attack her. That might make me feel a little better, might change my fate. I would scratch at her, use my fingernails to shred her skin and blood, use it to fuel my power, use it to end her.

  But that was only a fantasy. It wouldn’t matter; there was a barrage of people outside waiting to step in if needed. But it would throw her off and that alone would make my day. I glanced up at the camera blinking down on us from the ceiling. Indicating that somewhere, behind the safety of another wall, the King was watching. He’d attended a few of the interrogations in person but then this thing had replaced him, with its blinking, watchful red eye.

  The urge for action ticked through me like a countdown clock.

  If Faulk sensed it, she wasn’t fazed. She studied me, looked me up and down with a sneer, and then ushered in three Guardians of Color. They strode forward with complete confidence, each one of them glowering. They hated me. In their opinion, I was the worst kind of human. Maybe they didn’t even see me as human at all, but an animal, a traitor, a beast deserving death at the hands of its master.

  “Hey guys.” I raised a defiant eyebrow.

  I knew them, not personally, but enough to hate them doubly for participating in my interrogation. They had been some of the most difficult students in the class I’d taught on red alchemy. All three men were close in age to my seventeen. They were also the same guys who had competed at the first exhibition, expert fighters. I caught the eye of the one I liked the very least, Dax. He and I had bad blood. As he stalked in front of his friends, he glowered down at me, excitement flaring in his dangerous eyes.

  Oh, great.

  “Dax is one of our expert telepathics,” Faulk said. “We have a handful of them in our organization. It really is quite a useful skill. Would you like to try it?”

  My face burned. Did they know? As the boy strode toward me with clenched fists and a determined swagger, I questioned everything.

  Purple alchemy twirled from his palm before shooting at me, connecting.

  Well, hello Jessa. Just so you know, I won’t be calling you Your Highness or anything like that, so don’t pull that rank crap on me again.

  I rolled me eyes, trying to fend off the worry building. I didn’t want to connect back. I didn’t want to talk to him. But it happened as if by accident, my magic leaping out to join his.

  Can you hear my thoughts?

  Fire lit his eyes, and he nodded to Faulk.

  Close enough. His voice cut sharply through my mind.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. Get out! I slammed back on the magic. It didn’t waver. He was too strong.

  I will, once you tell me who you’ve been working with.

  “You think it’s going to be this easy?” I cut the question back toward Faulk. “Your alchemists are full of tricks, Faulk. They’re all show and no substance.”

  She leaned back against the wall and flicked her wrist. The other two alchemists dove at me so fast I didn’t have time to react and pummeled me with large, bony fists. Pain broke out across my jaw, my ribs, my sides, everywhere. I screamed. The agony rose, spilling over.

  I'll ask my question again, Dax said. Who are you working with? Names! Now!

  No, I won't.

  “Hit her harder,” he called out.

  A heavy boot slammed into my stomach, and I went down hard, landing directly on my right elbow. Bone cracked, and agony soared through me. It was rawer, more direct, than anything I’d ever experienced. It burned up and down my arm, like liquid fire. I cried out, losing sense of time and space. My vision began to blur, and I was sure I’d pass out.

  Tell us. Give us names and we’ll heal you. If you don't, this will continue, and it will only get worse. Don’t be so stubborn!

  “Get out of my head!” I screamed.

  There was no use. He kept asking his questions over and over while his friends beat me. All they needed was a slip up and they’d win. My blood spattered across the floor like spilled berries, filling my mouth to the point of gagging.

  Faulk’s voice filtered through the room, saying something I couldn’t even begin to make out. The alchemists stilled, and Faulk walked over, leaning in with a jov
ial, sickening grin.

  “Are you ready to cooperate?”

  She had me.

  And yet…

  I shook my head, coughing up blood. The attack resumed, and I screamed, losing myself kick by kick, feeling my body break.

  Tell me! Tell me now! Jessa, give me a name! Dax screamed into my mind. Who else have you worked with in the Resistance? Who else is a traitor? Tell me. Start with one name. One name! Who is it?

  I didn’t mean for it to happen.

  It was the worst possible thing I could have done, but I did it. In the midst of all the pain, the barrage of questions and the suffocating fear that I was about to lose everything, my thoughts drifted to my love. To Lucas.

  And somehow, I replied with his name.

  The alchemist stopped and held up a hand. He stepped back with an odd expression. The pain still raked through me as I watched, horror ripping me up.

  “I can’t believe it.” He shook his head slowly, but realization lit his face, drawing out a sly smile.

  “Who?” Faulk yelled. “Did she give you a name? What did she say?”

  “When I asked her who she’s worked with, I wasn't expecting her to say his name.”

  “Out with it!” Faulk snapped.

  He turned, glancing up at the camera then over to Faulk, almost apologetically. And the name dropped from his mouth.

  “Prince Lucas.”

  As the prison cell door swung open, I braced myself for another interrogation. They’d healed me after the last one, so at least I’d had a break. But the mere thought of more pain sent me reeling. I scrambled back on my cot. I couldn’t take any more! My heart kicked into overdrive and my breathing sped.

  But it wasn’t Faulk or Reed or any alchemist who walked inside. The fear deflated, and I relaxed. It was the people I’d least expected. But I couldn’t help but smile at the royal hair and makeup team: Lars and Lainey. The way the pair looked at me, faces scrunched, huddled in the corner of the room, mouths agape, was nothing short of pathetic.

  “I don’t need your pity,” I grumbled, peeling myself off the cot.

  “Come along.” Lainey tossed the command over her shoulder. She didn’t need to tell me twice! The very thought of getting out of the cell had me practically giddy, my heart leaping for the first time in ages. Along with the guards, they escorted me down the nondescript hallway, into a sparse but clean bedroom with a large white-tiled bathroom attached. After giving me space for a quick shower, the two got to work.

  “Am I going on camera?” I asked Lars, eyeing him through the mirror, noticing how his amber eyes didn’t have the same spark they’d had on my wedding day. The lines in his tanned face deepened as he tugged at my wet hair with his hairbrush. I winced.

  “Shh!” he warned me. “We’re not allowed to talk to you this time.”

  “That’s dumb.” I watched them suspiciously until they spun me away from the mirror. Biting my lower lip, I looked around for a chair. Sitting down would be amazing, but I wasn’t that lucky. Not that it mattered.

  I could always try to use my red magic on them, get them to talk, but I decided against it. They were innocent in all this, two people doing their jobs, trying to stay alive like the rest of us.

  After an hour or so of primping and prodding, they turned me back to face the mirror.

  “And they call me magical.” I sighed, taking in my transformed reflection. I’d gone from a dirty, bloody, sweat-covered mess, back to a princess, perfectly styled to adorn Lucas’s arm. My hair was curled gently around my shoulders, my lips painted a soft coral and my eyes bright.

  “Put this on and someone will be here to escort you to see the King,” Lars said, passing me a white cocktail dress and matching high heels. From the way Lainey glowered at him, I guessed Lars wasn’t supposed to add the last part about King Richard.

  “Thank you,” I croaked, fighting back the anxiety that was bubbling in my chest.

  “Sorry about this,” Lars continued, pulling out handcuffs. “We’ve been ordered.”

  Lainey stepped back, steeling herself. But I wasn’t going to fight them on this.

  “I understand.” I held out my wrists, looking away as he slipped the cool metal into place.

  “Remember who you are. You’re a fighter,” Lars whispered under his breath.

  My eyes popped back to meet his, and he nodded, eyes alight with brilliant fire.

  Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, I found myself following a barrage of silent, watchful guards, and entering a cozy dining room. So far, I hadn’t gotten too many glimpses of the operation here. It was some kind of military stronghold, and nothing like the lavish accommodations of the palace. Still, the room King Richard was to dine in had been artfully decorated, as if we were still in the palace.

  The moment I sat down, he entered the room. He was dressed, not in the royal regalia, but in a crisp business suit and tie. His presence filled the room, thick as smoke and just as toxic.

  “I’m going to get right to the point,” he said, sliding into the chair across from me. “I need to be able to trust my son, and as such, I need you to tell me everything.”

  His magnitude was enough to intimidate anyone, myself included. Everything about him made me want to crawl out of my skin. It wasn’t that he was outwardly evil. It was his incredible skill for manipulation, his way of twisting every little thing to his advantage—that bothered me most.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I said carefully.

  “Don’t lie.” He held my gaze. I was struck by how similar his eyes were to Lucas’s, the gray so penetrating, it drew me in. “I know what happened in your interrogation this morning. You claimed the prince was Resistance, and given the nature of said interrogation, I’m inclined to believe it.”

  Oh, no. That was not what I was hoping for. It would have been better for Lucas if they’d thought I was raving mad!

  I sank into my white padded chair, having no clue how to fix this. Lucas had been Resistance, but he wasn’t anymore. What good would it be to turn his father against him? It would only put the man I loved in more danger, something I’d vowed not to do ever again. Lucas had enough on his plate, the last thing he needed was to be thrown in a prison cell and put through the same kind of interrogations I’d endured. If that happened, it wouldn’t be long until he accidently revealed his biggest secret.

  His alchemy.

  “You’re a smart girl,” Richard continued, leaning over the polished oak table. “I never gave you enough credit; I see my error now. You really do know how to play politics with the best of them. Maybe you deserve the crown, after all. Too bad after everything you’ve done, you’ll never get another chance to ruin my family. Even if I let you live, you will learn to get in line, I can promise you that.”

  His perfectly preened eyebrows pulled together and lowered over unblinking eyes as he delivered his monologue.

  “I’m going to give you two options, so listen carefully. Option one, you tell me everything, you surrender yourself to my will, and I’ll graciously let you live. With that comes the agreement to adhere to my story, my way, and always, my version of the truth.”

  My stomach hardened to stone. His version of the truth. My hands turned to fists, pulling at the cuffs in my lap. His version was whatever version gave him the most power, and with the war in full swing, what would happen if he managed to win?

  “My son has no memory of the last year, and as much as I’m eager to learn who tried to kill him…” He paused midsentence, looking me over with knowing eyes. “I’m more eager to make sure he never realigns himself with this traitorous Resistance group ever again. So that means you will feed him whatever information I tell you. You will help me help him. Because can’t we both agree that it is in Lucas’s best interest to support his father, to uphold the tenants of his role of crowned prince?”

  It wasn’t a question. He kept going, caught in his own delusion.

  “It is either that or option two. Do I need to continue?
I assume by now you know what option two is. It is rather obvious.”

  I lifted my chin. “Enlighten me.”

  “You take the fall for everything.”

  I flinched.

  He smiled. “And that means you’ll be publicly shamed and executed.”

  I sucked in a breath, letting everything settle over me. The world stilled. I didn’t want to die, but I also couldn’t tell Richard everything he wanted, and I certainly couldn’t help him turn Lucas into his prodigy. If I revealed the names of the other Resistance members, I would be trading their lives for mine. How could I possibly value my life above theirs? Especially when they’d trusted me?

  “Hurry and make your choice,” he said, nonchalantly. “I really must be getting to my dinner soon.”

  I stood and pushed back my chair, placing my palms flat on the table, despite the pull of the metal cuffs.

  “Thank you for the offer; it’s an easy choice.”

  He grinned, triumphant. “I knew it would be.”

  “I choose option number two.”

  9

  Sasha

  “I so don’t want to do this.” I sighed, leaning into Mastin’s warm shoulder. He didn’t respond, but did reach down to squeeze my hand. Maybe he understood.

  Since the second alchemist prisoner had arrived a little over a week ago, I’d been called back in four times to work with the new arrivals. That’s what they called them. Really, they were prisoners of war. I understood the magnitude of winning this thing and how important it was to the future of not only both countries, but the world at large. Still, I absolutely hated doing it like this.

  “Are you ready?” Mastin asked, nodding toward the door. On the other side was another prisoner about to get the “Sasha Welcome Party.” That’s what I’d termed the pathetic attempts I made to bring these people to my way of thinking. So far, I was zero and four.

  There had been small battles nearly every day, and with that meant casualties and prisoners. I’d been forced to stay back after our botched mission to save Jessa, the General’s way of making me pay my dues and prove myself.