Ru just waited by the door, not saying a word and I was grateful for the silence, and for the fact that he wasn’t questioning what had happened at the museum. The little gestures like that made me see how brotherly he was, especially to Chrys. He was just a kid like me who was trying to protect somebody dear to him, never once protesting.
The minutes ticked by. My breathing steadied somewhat and my eyes
felt strained and hot; tears threatening to spill even when I willed them not to.
“Where are we?”
“At a Tracker ’s home, for safe keeping.”
I motioned to the window, “And those people out there?”
“Part of the Black Crown. Keeping watch. We’ll be safe here—for now, at least.”
I nodded mutely, placing the towel back neatly on its rack. A couple more slow minutes clicked by.
Ru spoke, “What do we do now?”
I looked at him, soaking in his face; the hazel eyes I had thought looked bored seemed to spark with a hint of fight. His dark brown hair was a little damp, and his face looked flushed underneath his stitched up wounds. He had fought just as hard as everyone, but he was still here, still up and keeping watch over us, despite the fact that it was late at night.
“Now,” I said softly, casting my eyes to the room that Dove slept in, feeling my heart clench and unclench with each breath. “Now we wait.”
○○○
It was well past three in the morning, and even though every single bone in my body weighed heavily, like they were filled with lead, it was nothing compared to the heavy weight in my heart—like it was being crushed by a giant’s foot, or it was roped around by a thick string and tightened. I should have slept, right after Dove’s wounds had been wrapped tightly and she and Chrys were sound asleep in their beds, but I couldn’t.
All I could do was pace the floor. Pace, pace, pace in time with the old grandfather clock in the hallway as it ticked away the seconds. Seconds I could never take back, even if I was a Time Alchemist.
Seconds farther and farther away I was from Leon. More and more seconds that passed that Dove would never awaken.
Ru seemed to have the same idea as me, keeping camp in front of the parlor, even though in front of his house, a couple of the same cloaked members of the Black Crown stood guard. Some minutes he would peer out between the shades, and other times I would see his head fall to his chest, then snap back up as if somebody had poked him with a hot iron skewer. There were bags under his eyes so deep and black they almost resembled a panda’s eyes—and I wondered what kind of hellish mess I looked like in his eyes, too.
A little after four in the morning, Chrys stirred awake.
“What happened?” where the first words to come out of her mouth after Ru insisted she drink something. I didn’t want to stand there like a fool while Ru tended to her like a mother hen to her (his?) chicks, so I rummaged through the fridge in a bright yellow kitchen and found some eggs to scramble. Even though my own tummy rumbled from the smell, I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything—it felt like my own body was just going through the motions while my brain was still processing the events of that night.
After two plates of slightly burnt scrambled eggs and water, Chrys told us what had happened.
“It’s all really a blur,” she said, sipping her water. A car zoomed by, because I saw their headlights grow and fade away from the small window of Chrys’s bedroom. A cat screeched somewhere near, probably in one of the bushes in front of the house. “I remember that we had gone to take a walk...and they jumped us from out of nowhere. I remember fighting as best as I could, but they pressed some sort of cloth over my mouth and I just..fell asleep, even though I didn’t want to. It was only for a day, but they kept making me drink this nasty tasting water. Even now my head feels like it weighs a ton.”
“A sleeping drug,” Ru said, “the Healer said you had been drugged with
a powerful pill to put you to sleep.”
“They—” I almost choked up. “They must have put you into a deep sleep so you couldn’t tap into anyone’s dreams to get help—so you wouldn’t have found out his plans.”
I told Chrys and Ru everything that had happened— from how we sneaked into The Sun and Moon Library to the discovery of Guinevere’s diary, and the attacks played on White’s side…and Ivan Novak’s.
Something outside banged loudly and Ru got up to this feet and stormed out. Chrys gave a small smile, “It was probably just a cat.” But then her expression turned grave. “There is something else you know, isn’t there.”
“Why you?” I asked. “Why us?”
“I don’t know…but we’re special, Emery,” Chrys said. “Extraordinary.
We both have alchemy that defies the laws of everything. Could you imagine if we trained the right way how powerful we could be? We might even be able to surpass the greatest alchemists of all times. And…it also explains so much…”
I nudged closer. “What do you mean? Has this happened before?”
She nodded, her eyes shining in the pale light of the seashell-shaped lamp beside her bed. “Once, when I was very little, before I was even out of the hospital—I saw White.”
A lump of ice formed in my stomach. She bit her lip, and I sat still, waiting for her to continue.
“At the time I didn’t even know my own alchemy, much less who he was. But I remember him coming into my room—his face isn’t that clear—and he told me I was going to be able to do great things, just like his other…
children. It’s odd, how I remember his voice as clear as a bell, but his face is still blurry. He said I was a new ‘breed’ of alchemists that needed to be properly trained, that the Black Crown was full of lies and that one day he’d
come back for me.
“I had no idea what he meant by that at all. Shortly after I left the hospital, I was taken in by the Chimas. They’ve sort of been my adoptive family ever since, and even though we didn’t play a huge part in the Black Crown, I still loved my life.”
“Chima…wait, that’s Ru’s surname. Is he—?”
“Do you remember those dreams I showed you before, Emery?”
I nodded. How could I forget that thick stench of blood, the flashing lights and a broken little girl caught in a twist of fate nobody had seen coming.
And the woman with dark black hair, bending down to cradle a small Chrys like she was her own child…
“Ru’s mother revived you, didn’t she?”
Again, Chrys nodded, though her cheeks were flush. “Yeah. She saved my life. And there’s no way I could ever repay her or the Chima’s for what they’ve done for me. But…what White said long ago was true—the Black Crown really is hiding something. From me and you.”
I didn’t understand at all. Maybe my lack of proper sleep was finally catching up to me. “What do you mean?”
Her hand was clutching the bed sheet so tightly her knuckles turned white. I reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. Another car ’s headlights zoomed by, illuminating Chry’s beautiful face, letting her white ruins shine like silver threads. Even with the large bruises on her face she looked stunning. But even then, I had to remember: despite her maturity and calming eyes, she was still just a child. A child, just like me, having a power that neither of us really asked for. Something that fate had just tossed to us without our consent.
Chrys was still trembling. “I don’t know. But whatever it is, we have to
stick together.”
I nodded. There was no other choice in the matter. “We will.”
CHAPTER 29
The sun was just starting to rise when I got out of the guest shower, scrubbing my hair lazily with a scratchy green towel. The air was a bit cold, sending goose bumps prickling over my bare skin. The only spare clothes that were given to me were a pair of large, loose gray sweatpants and a white tee that I had to twist and tie a little to get it to stay put without bagging up.
The hot shower had been just wh
at I needed, unknotting the tension in my muscles and bones. After I had finished getting dressed, and bandaging the larger cuts that had reopened, despite Gwen’s healing abilities, and bruises on my arms and hands, I tiptoed towards the spare bedroom where Dove was, closing the door softly behind me. The spare bedroom was huge and pink but it was filled with easels and paints and pictures, hanging from the walls or crammed into corners or the half open closet. It was the second largest room (next to Chry’s room) that, I guessed, was used an art supply room. The smell of paint wasn’t too suffocating inside; rather, it was oddly comforting.
Dove lay perfectly still on the twin sized bed, but her breathing was low and shallow. I had tried my best to clean the wound and dress her into some spare clothes, but her face was still pale and sweaty.
I couldn’t sleep, so I walked like a ghost through the house. I walked to the parlor, seeing Ru’s sleeping form hunched over on one of the chairs, muttering something under his breath. Peeping out the blinds, I saw that the same two members were still there, bending their heads together as if they shared some secret.
I pulled a checkered patterned blanket from the couch and draped it over Ru’s body before wandering around the other rooms. I passed a large mirror hanging in the hallway and stopped.
I looked like a walking personification of a nightmare.
There were large bags under my eyes—probably even deeper than Ru’s. My face looked swollen and red, my skin littered in purplish bruises and the faint traces of burn scars. My hair was a whole different nightmare in itself
—the edges were cropped and short, as if Edward Scissorhands had taken a pair of garden shears and hacked it off while prancing about. One side of my hair was longer than the other, but the tips looked like crisp.
With a sigh, I forced myself away from the ghostly impression and walked back to the spare room.
I double checked Dove’s bandages, glad that there wasn’t any blood leaking on the bed and wiped the sweat off her brow before trudging over to the small couch nestled by the far wall.
I pressed my face into a pillow that smelled like old dust and cat, and I cried. I cried for all of the unfairness in this world, how unfair it was for someone sweet like Chrys to be used as a playing chip for some old man’s selfishness. How unfair it was that someone as wonderful and strong as Dove was going to die at the hands of the brother she loved. How unfair it was that Leon—my sweet, strong, protecting Leon—was going to lose to Ivan Novak.
And most of all, in all of that, I selfishly cried for myself, because I thought it was unfair that everything was being shouldered on me—and I couldn’t do a thing to help.
○○○
Frankie Ann came by a couple hours later with her arms full of groceries. Ru did not take to kindly on being woken up so early (although it was only nine in the morning) so I shooed him out, promising to wake him if anything were to happen. He grumbled something under his breath and I heard the soft click of a door closing on the other side of the house as I helped Frankie Ann with the
bags. I didn’t have to worry about him having a restless sleep—in minutes there was a deep snoring coming from the other side of the door.
“It’s as quiet as church on a Sunday mornin’ in this house,” she said, zipping around the kitchen as she put almost five boxes of cereal into the pantry, two jugs of milk in the fridge and a carton of cookie dough ice cream in the freezer. I eyed a box of Cap’n Crunch, resting on the other side of the kitchen’s bar that separated it from the living room as she heated up the stove and pulled out an assortment of pots and pans.
In minutes, the rich smell of bacon and blueberry pancakes filled the small house like lavish perfume.
While she readied breakfast, I finally asked her side of the story from last night.
“Last night had to be the most chaotic night of my life!” Frankie Ann said, whipping the pancake batter like there was no tomorrow. “Almost gave this ol’ girl a heart attack! You must be just as exhausted as me, poor thing.”
I smiled a little, tossing a blueberry into my mouth. My jaw ached from just eating a small berry and it tasted too tart.
“Sort of,” I said, “I just…everything was sort of a blur.”
“That’s to be expected,” Frankie Ann murmured, “everyone’s on edge because of that darned White Alchemist—and when we got word that not only sweet little Chrys was kidnapped but the fact that White might be near, we gathered as much of our forces as we could and headed straight t’
Andersonville.”
“Frankie Ann, what exactly is the Black Crown anyway?”
“We help young alchemists like yourselves, dear,” she replied, “but we also gotta clean up the messes you leave behind—intentionally or not.”
I felt hollow inside when she said that, but she just smiled, patting my arm. The big beads on her bracelet jiggled around like Christmas bells.
“Believe it or not, the Black Crown is made up of mostly of people who are alchemists—save for the ‘norms’ like myself—Trackers and Sweepers; occasionally Weavers, too. The Healers are the largest category of alchemists.”
I remembered Gwen, and the grumpy, but kind old fool who had told me Dove would never wake up, and I scowled, pinching a blueberry between my fingers until it bursts.
Frankie Ann went on, oblivious to the storm cloud raging over my head. “We have Sweepers—people who take care of the messes and clean up any trace left. We have Weavers—special people who can hypnotize a witnesses memory if necessary—”
“Why? Why go through all that effort?”
“Sweetpea, do you know how dangerous this world can be for an outsider? Imagine all the trouble that could come to us if they decided to share our secrets with the world—taken if someone were to agree with ‘em.” Frankie Ann poured the second batch of batter into the skillet, and I heard it sizzle and crack from the heat. “Don’t ya worry about it, dear; we only do what’s necessary. Lessee, besides the Healers and Sweepers…Weavers…and, oh! We have the Trackers, like me!”
“Trackers?”
“People who lack any sort of magic or power,” she said, “Just your everyday, ordinary human. Just as you asked me before, I keep track of other alchemist’s whereabouts and keep in contact with other headquarters.
Sometimes if needed, I’ll track down members of the Black Crown and send them to certain places if requested.”
“So you’re like…a secretary for the alchemists, or something.”
She laughed, carrying on more about the Black Crown and its elite members. I leaned my head against the counter, listening to her soft voice.
An hour later, Chrys rose from her slumber, and the three of us gathered around the small kitchen table and chowed down on Frankie Ann’s delicious homemade breakfast. Chrys excused herself to shower, and Frankie Ann practically pushed me back to the guest room to get some more shut eye.
“You look like hell in a hand basket, sweetpea!”
I stopped before the door. I heard the gentle running of rain hammering down onto the roof. I turned to Frankie Ann, “Um, could I….ask a favor.”
Her smile widened, “Anything you need, sweetie.”
“I—”
“Emery Miller?”
I jumped, whirling around to see two older members of the Black Crown—a stern looking man and a woman, standing right behind me. Their cloaks were still on, but their hoods remained down so I got a better look at them. The man had no visible tattoos on his face, but had dark colored hair slicked back in style with thick eyebrows. He looked oddly young, even though his eyes seemed deep with experience and knowledge. The woman next to him looked a lot younger, probably in her mid twenties or early thirties—with the exact same tattoos that I had seen yesterday, like triangular shapes, all up and down the sides of her face.
Weavers.
“Emery Miller?” the man asked again. I swallowed a big lump in my throat before standing up on shaky knees.
“Y-Yes, that’s me.”
>
“You need to come with us.”
I glanced over at Frankie Ann. She had a worried look on her face, but didn’t try to get up. I knew I could trust her, but there was some small part inside of me thinking, what is all this?
“Where to?”
The woman gave a tight smile, her light gray eyes twinkling beneath the straight cut bangs of her raven black hair. “To St. Mary’s Academy.”
○○○
“What’s going on?”
“Nothin’ to be scared of, dear,” Frankie Ann said, patting my knee lightly. Shortly after the introduction of the two Black Circle members—the older man, Christopher Nettles, who wasn’t an alchemist, but rather a “get go”
guy between alchemists and normal people. Basically, he was the boss—
everyone did as he said, no questions asked. Frankie Ann had explained that he had connections to high places, using his powers to stop—let’s say, for example—the police from coming across an alchemic battle, or the press releasing surprise pictures of it in the National News. Christopher was sort of like the head honcho of Savannah’s Black Crown organization.
The woman, a very pretty girl with Oriental features was, like I had guessed right, a Weaver. Her name was Misa Klaus, and she seemed much more friendlier and upbeat than her boss; though judging by how they talked and how, on occasion, their hands would brush together, I got the feeling that they were more than co-workers.
The black convertible lurched a little on the road. Before I had known what was happening, I (along with Frankie Ann, who insisted to tag along) had been whisked away from my warm breakfast, out into the drizzling rain and into the car…
Which had just pulled up to St. Mary’s gates.
I was shaking in my flats, for two reasons. One, I had left in such a hurry that I had no time to tell anyone where I or Frankie Ann was. Frankie Ann had told me not to worry, that one of the other Black Crown members who was watching the house would inform my friends about my departure soon.
The Fake Eye (Time Alchemist) Page 19