The Alchemists Academy: Stones to Ashes Book 1

by Kailin Gow

  How long he stayed like that, Wirt did not know, although the ache in his legs suggested that it was a while. He only knew that, after however long it was, there came the whoosh of someone exiting the transportation tube up to this hallway, followed by the clicking of someone walking along it. Wirt peered out around the corner of his plinth, and saw one person approaching whom Wirt had not expected: Urlando Roth.

  It occurred to Wirt in that moment that he had not established with Alana exactly how he was supposed to warn her if someone showed up. He could not shout, because Mr. Roth would hear. He could not run into the room, because then he would be spotted. In fact, there was really only one thing he could do…

  With a deep breath, Wirt stepped into the middle of the hallway, placing himself in Urlando Roth’s path just in time for the teacher to fall over him.

  “What the… oof!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry sir,” Wirt said, as loudly as he dared in the hope that Alana would hear it. “Here, let me help you up.”

  Actually, he made his efforts sufficiently un-helpful that they both stumbled at least once more before making it to their feet.

  “Why don’t you watch where you”re going?” Urlando Roth demanded. Wirt bit back the urge to say something he would regret.

  “I’m very sorry, sir,” he said instead, still aiming for volume. Hadn’t Alana heard him yet? Wirt struggled for a suitable distraction. “Um… you’re Mr. Roth, aren’t you? I’ve been thinking of taking your class on magical accountancy.”

  “That’s nice,” the teacher said. “So few people seem to see its value these days, in a world of flashy evocations and conjurations.”

  Presumably, Wirt thought, because blowing things up with magic and summoning things from thin air was slightly more impressive than messing around with numbers. He didn’t say that though. Instead, he struggled to think back to the essays on Mr. Roth’s desk.

  “I have been wondering, sir, what kind of predictive system would you use for a small business? My friend Spencer says it should still be numerology, but I think that maybe that might be a bit too involved for something that small scale.”

  Mr. Roth’s face lit up at the sound of a student with an apparent interest in his favorite subject.

  “Well, obviously many people would raise that as a concern. I feel though, that several of the systems based around Babylonian base twelve counting methods are sufficiently straightforward for smaller applications, and they provide significantly better results than more popular methods of divination such as…”

  Mr. Roth paused.

  “Such as?” Wirt prompted. It did not help. The teacher looked suddenly thoughtful.

  “A question occurs to me, boy. Just what were you doing up here, outside Ms. Preville’s office, when there is no reason for you to be? If I am not very much mistaken, you were hiding behind a plinth when I arrived.”

  “Oh. I was just… that is…” Wirt tried to think of any reasonable explanation for why he might have been there. “Admiring the art?”

  “Well yes, it is rather good, isn’t it? Aloea does it herself you…” Mr. Roth looked thoughtful again. “No. I see what is going on here. I see exactly what is going on here.”

  Wirt braced himself for the worst. Any moment, Mr. Roth would throw open the door to Ms. Preville’s room, see Alana searching, and it would all be over. They would be lucky if the school just expelled them for something like this. Alana would be so upset…

  “I know what it can be like, boy, seeing such a beautiful woman as Ms. Preville every day. Such a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman. I saw you looking at her when the school management committee met. It is only natural, I suppose, that you would develop a crush on her.”

  “A crush?” Wirt asked, scarcely able to believe it. Mr. Roth raised a hand.

  “Oh, I know it does not feel like that right now, young man. You probably fancy yourself to be in love. But I assure you that this is not real. Take it from someone who knows what true love feels like - that the gap between the two is infinitely wide.”

  Wirt considered his options. What he wanted to do was laugh, but he suspected it would not be a very good idea. Urlando Roth had just given him a perfect excuse for being there, and the best thing to do was probably to simply nod, so he did.

  “I guess… I guess you’re right.”

  “Of course I am. Now, you cannot just go around lurking near people’s rooms, no matter how you think you feel. I hope you understand that young…”

  “Wirt, sir. And I do.”

  “Good. Why, just the other day, someone attempted to steal into my office unannounced. Thankfully, my alarm spell seems to have scared them off, but you can imagine how disconcerting it was.”

  Probably about as uncomfortable as hearing about it when you were the one who had done it, Wirt guessed. Roth waved an arm in the direction of the transport hole.

  “Now, run along, Wirt, and do not let me catch you here again. It would be a shame to have to give detention to somebody with such a refreshing interest in magical accountancy.”

  Wirt took that as his cue to leave. There was not anything else he could do to warn Alana, so he just had to hope that she had heard everything. He set off towards the tube, stopping only when he heard the sound of a door opening behind him. Alana emerged, still in her Ms. Preville disguise, and Wirt was shocked to see Mr. Roth sweep her into his arms and kiss her. At least, he kissed a point above Alana’s head, where the illusion’s lips were, Ms. Preville being rather taller than she was.

  “Oh, Aloea, I have missed you. I have something wonderful to… Aloea, are you all right? You feel rather odd.”

  “I am fine, Urlando,” Alana answered, in her best Ms. Preville voice, “I was just resting a little.”

  “That must be it,” Mr. Roth said. “Aloea, I have a surprise for… you. Boy, what are you still doing here?”

  Wirt had forgotten for a moment that he was supposed to be leaving.

  “Um… I was just going, sir.”

  “Wait.” Alana’s voice underneath the illusion was imperious. “You are one of the boys from my classes, aren’t you? One who cannot produce glamours properly.”

  Wirt felt that was a little harsh. Okay, so he was not quite as good as Alana, but still…

  “Yes, Ms. Preville,” he said meekly. Alana seemed to be enjoying herself.

  “Then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off turning things into frogs with Gertrude?”

  Urlando Roth put a steadying hand on Alana’s arm. The illusion did not flicker. It just went to show how good Alana was at it.

  “Now, Aloea, we should be kind to the boy. I found him lurking out here. It seems he has grown rather… attached to you.”

  Alana laughed, apparently unable to help herself, but Wirt felt that she recovered well.

  “I suppose he cannot be blamed for that,” she said. “After all, who wouldn’t want to admire me?”

  “Who indeed?” Mr. Roth said, his eyes lingering on the illusion of Ms. Preville for a moment. “Perhaps we should send him away now, Aloea, so that we can talk more… privately?”

  Wirt froze. He hadn’t considered this possibility. He would be forced to leave, and then Alana would either have to keep playing the part of Ms. Preville with Mr. Roth, or she would have to let the illusion fall and take the consequences of being found out. Neither option sounded like a good one.

  Thankfully, Alana seemed to have thought of a third approach.

  “No. I will not have boys lurking around my room. He must be taken to the Headmaster for punishment.”

  “Really, Aloea?” Mr. Roth did not seem happy about it. “Isn’t that perhaps a little harsh? After all, he has shown a promising interest in numerology.”

  “No, Urlando. These things must be nipped in the bud, or who knows where they will lead? I will take the little scamp to the Headmaster myself, and we will see how he likes that.”

  “But Aloea, I was hoping…”

  The illusion of Ms
. Preville put a finger to the other teacher’s lips. “I will not be long, Urlando. Wait for me in my room, make yourself comfortable, and there will soon be time for everything you were hoping.”

  That promise spurred Mr. Roth into action, and he practically ran into Ms. Preville’s room.

  Alana took hold of Wirt’s arm. “We should hurry,” she said. “I didn’t think that was going to work. I’m just glad Ms. Pretty is taller than I am, or I would have ended up kissing an accountant.” She paused. “Maybe it would have turned him into a toad.”

  They ran for the transport tube, Alana letting the illusion fall along the way. They went back to Wirt and Spencer’s room, hardly pausing until they were safely inside.

  “So Ms. Preville and Mr. Roth are an item,” Wirt said. “I wonder what she sees in him?”

  “Probably about as much as he sees in her,” Alana countered, perching on the edge of Spencer’s bed and giggling. “Honestly, I thought I’d die laughing when you started trying to persuade him that you were really interested in magical accountancy.”

  “You and me both,” Wirt said. He took Alana’s hand. “But we got away with it, didn’t we?”

  There was an unexpected silence. Alana was looking over Wirt’s shoulder.

  “What’s all this?” Wirt turned to find Spencer looking at them. The expression on his face was one of almost pure jealousy.

  Chapter 16

  “What’s going on?” Spencer demanded again. This time, Alana looked up at him too.

  “Spencer, what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” Spencer asked. “How can you ask what’s wrong when I see the two of you in here like this?”

  “You think that Wirt and I…” Alana laughed. Wirt felt that was a bit harsh, given that they had kissed outside the tree. On the other hand, nothing had happened since. “Spencer, you aren’t jealous, are you?”

  “Why would I be jealous, if there’s nothing to be jealous of?” Spencer countered. “But why are you even here? You know you are not supposed to be in the boys’ rooms.”

  “And there’s the officious Spencer we’ve all come to know and love,” Alana shot back. Wirt was starting to feel like nothing more than a spectator. “Have a good time with your father, did you, while we were out taking all the risks?”

  “Alana,” Wirt said, “maybe you shouldn’t…”

  “Shut up, Wirt.” Alana looked at him in a way that made it clear she did not want his help.

  “What kind of risks?” Spencer asked. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid.”

  “Don’t call me stupid,” Alana snapped back. “Could you have held an illusion of Aloea Preville so realistic that even Mr. Roth, who looks like he’s in love with her, couldn’t tell the difference?”

  The note of jealousy was back in Spencer’s expression.

  “In love? How did you find that out?”

  “It’s none of your business, Spencer. You don’t get to be jealous. It’s not like I’m good enough for you, is it?”

  Wirt found himself looking back and forth between the two of them, like a spectator at a particularly vicious tennis match.

  “You know it is not that, Alana. It’s just… my father… if he ever found out…”

  “Oh, so it is just that I am not good enough for him then? And of course, you’re too weak to ever stand up to him.”

  “At least I’m not the one going behind someone’s back with his roommate.”

  “Oh, I hate you, Spencer Bentley.”

  Wirt took a deep breath. “Shut up! Both of you.”

  That got silence. It was a silence filled with glares from the others, but it was silence.

  “Spencer,” he said, “I don’t know what you think you saw, but Alana and I were just happy because we had managed to find out about Ms. Preville and Mr. Roth. And frankly, since Mr. Roth is now convinced that I’m the kind of person who lurks outside Ms. Preville’s office because he has some kind of crush on her, I could do without this.”

  “He thinks what?” That got the beginnings of a smile from Spencer.

  “Well, one of us had to act as a lookout.”

  Spencer shook his head. “You wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t gone to break into someone’s room.”

  “How else would we have found out whether Ms. Preville was behind this?” Alana demanded. She stood up, and Wirt knew that things were about to take another turn for the worse. Alana jabbed a finger at Spencer. “What would you have done? Asked her nicely if she was secretly evil?”

  “I wouldn’t have broken who knows how many rules. As for evil, in case you hadn’t noticed, that applies to half the teachers here. Mostly the half that aren’t just crazy.”

  “Sometimes, you have to break rules,” Alana shot back. Wirt wanted to agree, but he had more sense. “At least, if you want to get anything done.”

  “The only thing you are going to get done, is getting us expelled. Do you want to know what Father had to say during lunch?”

  “Something about the stock market?” Alana said. “How you need to work twenty-seven hours a day?”

  “He actually warned me not to involve myself any further in the search for the chalice,” Spencer said. “He said it was dangerous, stupid and none of my business. Well… actually he said it was ‘ill advised’ but that’s what he meant. And you know what? He was right.”

  “Big surprise there,” Alana said. “You always think he’s right.”

  “I do not. But do you want to put yourself in danger for something that no one will thank us for?” Spencer looked suddenly much more sheepish. “Sneaking up to the office like that, you could… you could have been hurt, Alana.”

  “But she was not,” Wirt pointed out. “Someone has to do this, Spencer, unless you want some evil sorceress destroying the school?”

  “Of course I don’t, but you had no business putting Alana in danger like that.”

  Wirt saw Alana bristle.

  “Wirt did not put me in anything, Spencer. I can make my own decisions, you know. Or maybe you don’t know. You seem to want to tell me what to do right now. Just because your family is rich, doesn’t mean you get to do that.”

  “Alana, I don’t want to tell you what to do. Just listen, for once.”

  Alana rolled her eyes. “Oh, what’s the point?”

  With that, Alana got up and stalked out. Wirt thought about going after her, but given Spencer’s expression, that didn’t seem like a very good idea. The boy sat at his desk, looking at Wirt with a sullen expression.

  “Are you going to sulk all day?” Wirt asked, “or are you going to help me figure out what all this means?”

  “What all what means?” Spencer demanded. “As far as I can tell, all you have learned is that two of the teachers here are an item. It’s useful if you want to start some gossip, but it’s not exactly proof that either of them is up to anything nefarious.” Spencer paused. “Or at least, anything more nefarious than passes for normal around here.”

  Wirt smiled at that. “I suppose it is pretty hard to find a villain when you suspect the Headmaster is worse than they could ever be.”

  Spencer returned the expression. “That’s true.” He sighed. “You know, Father wanted me to complain about having to share a room with you. He thinks you’ll be a bad influence on me.”

  “Well,” Wirt said with a shrug, “hopefully.”

  “Yes,” Spencer said, “I suppose someone has to be.”

  “What was all that with Alana?” Wirt asked.

  “She is just so… infuriating sometimes. She always has been. Honestly, some days, I don’t know why we’re even friends.”

  Wirt doubted that. “So, how are you two going to make it up to one another? Send each other flowers or… oh.” Wirt paused as an idea occurred to him. One he hadn’t even considered before.

  “What is it?” Spencer asked. Wirt tried to get his thoughts into some kind of order.

  “You remember when I had a look in Mr. Roth’s offic
e?”

  Spencer sighed. “All too well, and I still think that’s what gave Alana the idea to do something like this, Wirt.”

  “Spencer, concentrate.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I saw a vase of flowers in there, with a note saying “to my darling A-a present”. At the time, I wondered if Roth had a middle name, but now, it’s obvious that they’re for Ms. Preville.”

  “Aloea, right,” Spencer said. “But what does that tell us? So Mr. Roth wants to give Ms. Preville flowers. So what?”

  Wirt shook his head. “Spencer, you aren’t getting it. The flowers were in this really ugly vase. Hideous, like the kind of thing someone might have made if they were only in an evening class because they had to be.”

  “So he doesn’t have any taste in art?”

  Wirt sighed. Was Spencer making this difficult on purpose? He certainly was not this slow normally.

  “Spencer,” he tried, “what if the flowers weren’t the present? What if the vase was?”

  “If it is as ugly as that, why would he give her… oh, I get it. You mean that the vase-”

  “Is the chalice.” Finally, Wirt thought.

  “It’s a bit of a long shot,” Spencer said.

  “Is it?” Wirt ticked the points off on his fingers as he made them. “First, we know that the chalice doesn’t always look like a chalice, so it’s probably fairly easy to change even before you start using the kind of transmutation spell Ms. Genovia was showing us, and it would easily provide the power to keep a spell like that going. Second, we know that Ms. Preville is a big fan of Ervana.”

  “We think that she is,” Spencer corrected him. “We can’t prove it.”

  “All right,” Wirt admitted, “but let’s pretend for a moment that she is. Thirdly, we know that Urlando Roth fancies her, and wants to give her a vase that no one in his right mind would give to someone just for decoration. It has to be the chalice.”