The Alchemists Academy: Stones to Ashes Book 1

by Kailin Gow

  “It doesn’t have to be,” Spencer said. He thought for a moment, “but it might be. Why would he do something like that?”

  Wirt shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he believes Ms. Preville when she says that Ervana is not dangerous. Maybe he just loves her so much that he doesn’t care, so long as it makes her happy. Maybe he thinks that being attacked by an evil sorceress would be good for the school’s finances.”

  That train of thought found itself interrupted by a knock at the door, which was probably just as well, given that Wirt would probably have had some trouble explaining just how an attack might be good for the school’s cash flow problems The door opened to reveal Priscilla, who had picked out a surprisingly nice dress in black without the aid of her mirror. She was looking at her knuckles, as though surprised that they had been able to make quite so much noise.

  “You know,” she said, “normally, I have heralds and things for that kind of thing.”

  “What do you want, Priscilla?” Spencer asked.

  “Well, you being less mean to my friend would be nice. But until then, you both coming back to our room will do. Alana sent me to fetch you.”

  “Has something happened?” Wirt asked. Priscilla nodded.

  “It’s no fun if I just tell you, though. Come on.”

  She led the way from the room, clearly expecting them to follow. Wirt and Spencer both did, though for Wirt at least, it had more to do with Alana asking than with the princess. Priscilla led them up to the room she shared with the other girl, where Alana was staring at Priscilla’s mirror. She looked round as they entered.

  “You three took your time. Didn’t Priscilla tell you what was happening?”

  Priscilla huffed. “I’m a princess, not a messenger.”

  “The mirror has spotted something,” Alana said, by way of explanation. She pointed to it. In it, Wirt could just about make out a boat, with the familiar figure of Ms. Preville in the stern, and Mr. Roth rowing hard in the bow. “They’re heading for the island. My pretending to be her must have worried them.”

  “We need to tell someone,” Spencer said. Alana shook her head.

  “Tell them what? That two people have decided to take a boat trip? They wouldn’t care. We have to go.”

  “We can’t.”

  “We can,” Alana insisted, “and I am.”

  “So am I,” Wirt agreed. “We have to stop them.”

  Spencer looked uncomfortable for a moment, before nodding. “Oh, all right then, but we’re leaving a note for Ms. Lake before we go. Those are teachers out there, which means they know more about magic than us.”

  “I’m going too,” Priscilla declared. Alana put her hands on the other girl’s arms.

  “Priscilla, it might be dangerous.”

  “If you get to go, so do I.”

  “Priscilla…”

  “I’m the Princess here, remember? You can’t tell me I can’t. Only Daddy can do that, and he isn’t here.” Priscilla reached under her bed, and to Wirt’s shock, drew out a sword almost as big as she was.

  “Where did you get that?” Alana demanded.

  “Oh, one of my aunties gave it to me when I first came here. Auntie Edith said that a girl all alone with only a fool for a brother should be able to look after herself.” Priscilla hefted the sword. “I always liked Auntie Edith.”

  Chapter 17

  The first trick was to get out to the island. After all, Ms. Preville and Mr. Roth had taken the only boat. Wirt stared out over the water, trying to decide if he could manage a transportation spell for everyone over that distance, and decided that he didn’t want to find out that he could not only when they all ended up in the water. Particularly not when he currently had a rather heavy burden strapped to his back like a shield, covered with a cloth.

  Priscilla briefly tried to persuade Llew the dragon to carry them over, but that got a curt response.

  “Do I look like a bus to you?”

  “A bit,” Wirt pointed out. After all, the dragon was about the same size in his natural form, and just as red as an English double-decker. Llew gave him an annoyed look, which turned to a surprised one when Priscilla put the point of her sword just beneath his chin.

  “Either you help us,” the Princess said, “or… well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it probably won’t be very nice.”

  Wirt saw Spencer roll his eyes.

  Alana moved over to Priscilla. “I’m not sure that helped, Priscilla.”

  “That was the worst attempt at a threat I’ve ever heard,” Spencer put in.

  The princess looked downcast. “Oh,” she said, lowering the sword, “sorry.”

  She sniffed.

  “Oh, please don’t cry,” Llew said. “I can’t stand it when princesses cry. It’s so depressing. It’s why I had to get out of the whole “chaining them to rocks and threatening to eat them” gig in the first place.”

  “Well, I’m sorry.” Priscilla sniffed again, rather more pointedly. “It’s just that the thought of not being able to get out to that island makes me really upset. No. I’m going to cry, I’m definitely…”

  Two minutes later, the dragon was out on the beach in his natural form, blasting white-hot fire down onto the sand until it melted into glass. He shaped it with his claws, and then blew on it to cool it. The result was a glass-bottomed oval like a giant glass coracle.

  “There,” the welsh dragon said, “no need to cry now. And I’ll just bet there’s some driftwood in my cave you can row with.”

  There was, though in the absence of Robert, Wirt and Spencer had to do the best they could. It was not easy. Their efforts were rather more effective than the previous time though, and they soon found themselves speeding across the lake, working from Alana’s directions again once the islands disappeared. It was not long before they were scraping their way onto the beach, dragging their boat up next to the rowing boat. The four of them set out along the path to the stone garden. Wirt just hoped that they would be in time.

  The stone of the garden seemed more threatening this time than it had before. Maybe it was just the thought that two teachers were waiting at the end of the path, trying to wake up an evil sorceress. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the way some of the statues around the path seemed to be moving. Wirt thought for a second that maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, but no, the head of one of the more realistic statues had definitely just turned towards him.

  The others seemed to have noticed it too. At least, they were staring at the statues around them with increasing worry. The statues also held stone swords that appeared very sharp. Alana said calmly.

  “I think we should probably run now.”

  Wirt was already running, but the direction that they needed to run in was littered with more statues. Within a minute, the four of them were surrounded by a circle of stone statues.

  Wirt searched around for a weapon, finally breaking off a branch from a nearby stone tree. Spencer and Alana did the same. Priscilla twirled her sword in a move that looked as likely to cut her own head off as that of an opponent, before coming on guard in a position that Wirt suspected she had probably spent time practicing in front of a mirror.

  Wirt swung his makeshift club at the nearest of the stone warriors. It parried in a spray of stone chippings, then brought its stone sword round in an arc that Wirt had to duck to avoid. He slammed his club into the thing’s leg, breaking both the club and the leg in a single crack of stone. The creature toppled over and Wirt snatched up its sword in time to parry a blow from his next opponent.

  Spencer and Alana were fighting back to back. Neither looked to be particularly expert with their makeshift weapons, but every time a blow was aimed at one of them, the other would be there to parry. Priscilla was shouting and hacking, spinning the oversized sword in combinations that would probably have been deadly if any of the statues came near her. She paused just long enough to look back at Wirt.

  “Shouldn’t you bunch be using magic or something? You
know, what with being trainee wizards and everything?”

  That, Wirt felt, was a good idea. He tried whispering the words to a transportation spell and ended up on the other side of a statue warrior, in a position to hack it down with a blow from his stone sword. He saw Alana disappear amid a haze of rainbows that made her hard to pick out, while Spencer seemed to be reciting numbers to himself.

  Wirt was too busy fighting his own opponents to think about it. He sidestepped a thrust, shoved one stone warrior into another, and then recited the words to Ms. Genovia’s frog spell from memory. The statue immediately transformed into a small stone frog who tried to jump on Wirt, who managed to kick it away in mid-air.

  Alana tried something complex, which fizzled out half way through when a stone warrior swung a mace at her head. She threw herself to one side, and Priscilla tripped the stone statue up, whirling back into the battle.

  “Swinging this thing is jolly hard work!” she exclaimed, taking a swipe at a passing statue. Alana joined her in pushing the statue over.

  “It’s still more relaxing than a hockey lesson with Ms. Genovia.”

  More stone soldiers stumbled at Wirt, and more after that. With rocks for brains, it was like fighting zombies that kept appearing and reappearing. Whenever Wirt would hack one down, another two would stand in its place. Without the ability to hurt the stone statues permanently, Wirt and the others were looking at an endless tiring battle ahead of them.

  Wirt knew he had to do something. With so many opponents, it was just a matter of time. Somewhere in his counting, Spencer missed a number, and found himself knocked sprawling by a backhanded blow. He struggled to his feet in time to parry the continued assault, but his concentration was broken and he gave ground.

  Wirt lunged at one of the stone soldiers, but forgot to recover when the blow was parried, a wrench and a twist later, and his blade was flying from his hand. That it hit another of the stone creatures on the back of the Head was a small consolation, especially when half a dozen more of the things started to close in on him. Wirt searched around for another sword, for something he could use as a weapon. Nothing came to hand.

  He tried the frog spell again, trying to turn the wall of stone statues into small frogs. Wirt drew himself up to his full height, put his hands together in what he hoped was the right configuration, and started to say the spell.

  What came out of his mouth was not at all like the words used for Ms. Genovia’s frog spell. These were different. His voice took on a sibilant, hissing quality with a creaking edge to them. Just saying them made Wirt feel like the coldest reaches of the universe were being pulled through him, scraping along his insides as they went.

  The whole effect made him feel like the world’s biggest ventriloquist’s dummy. The wind in the garden picked up, and the stone flowers swayed with it. The drone of the stone bees grew to something unbearable. Wirt saw something start to flake from the stone warriors nearest to him, and he realized that it was sand-sized chips of stone. The flow of the stuff turned into a torrent, swirling and blowing away in the breeze as the statues suffering centuries of erosion in just seconds. Soon, there was nothing left around Wirt but sand in neat, careful piles.

  Alana and Spencer both looked at Wirt with something approaching shock. Wirt, himself, was busy looking down at his hand with the same expression.

  “How did you do that?” Spencer demanded.

  Wirt shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Was it a spell someone showed you?” Alana asked. “Or maybe…”

  “I don’t know,” Wirt repeated. He was not sure he wanted to know, either.

  “Um…” Priscilla began, “shouldn’t we be moving on? I am sure that Ms. Preville and Mr. Roth will be trying to free their sorceress any minute now. Aren’t we supposed to get there before they do that?”

  Thank goodness for slightly scatterbrained princesses, Wirt thought, because otherwise he would probably have stood there staring at his hands for the rest of the day. Instead, he nodded.

  “You’re right. We should go.”

  Chapter 18

  They hurried along the path through the stone garden until they came to the large circle that contained Ervana’s petrified form. It also contained Ms. Preville and Mr. Roth, both with their hands on a golden cup that had to be the chalice. They were chanting softly together.

  “Stop this at once!” Priscilla called out, and Wirt winced.

  “Have you heard of the element of surprise?”

  Priscilla shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Unfortunately, it was a bit late for that. The two teachers looked up together, and Mr. Roth took his hands off the chalice.

  “I will deal with them, Aloea. I thought the stone soldiers would kill them, but obviously not.”

  Wirt and the others tried to spread out. The wider the target they could present, the harder it would be for Mr. Roth to hurt them.

  “Urlando,” Ms. Preville called after him. “Wait. We are trying to help the school here, not kill off its pupils.”

  “Is that why you’re trying to summon back a sorceress who attacked the place?” Alana asked. Ms. Preville took a step towards her.

  “That isn’t true. Take it back at once, you stupid girl.”

  “It’s what the history says,” Spencer said.

  “Well the history is wrong.” Ms. Preville stood there with an irritated expression. “Sit down, all of you.”

  There was something about the way she said it that made the instruction impossible to resist. Wirt found himself sitting without a conscious thought, the object on his back jolting against him as he did it, and he remembered what Ms. Preville had said in her class about glamour being useful for mind control.

  “Ervana was a great witch,” Ms. Preville said. “She stood up to Ender Paine, and she nearly succeeded too. She would have made the school so much better. Wizards would have learned about using magic properly, not just manipulating people to their own ends.”

  “You say, after manipulating Mr. Roth into helping you,” Wirt said. The male teacher looked furious.

  “Aloea did no such thing, boy. She did not even know until an hour ago that I had taken the chalice. We love each other. I wanted to help her.” He turned back to Ms. Preville. “We really should do something about them, Aloea.”

  Wirt tried to stand up, but he couldn’t.

  “No, Urlando. I am not going to kill children. Anyway, it is not like they can do anything to stop us.” Ms. Preville smiled at Wirt with the confidence that only someone truly obsessed could manage. “Soon, you will see what Ervana is really like. It will all make sense then. You, of all people, should want to. I am sure Ender is playing some kind of game with you. You should all want this.”

  She looked to each of them in turn.

  “Alana, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone who would let you be a good advisor to your queen, and not just a puppet master?”

  “I’m not going to do that,” Alana shot back. “Priscilla is my friend.”

  “Of course she is, dear, but do you think you will really feel the same by the time you graduate? What about you, young Bentley? All you have had drilled into you is profit at any cost. Wouldn’t you like to be free to explore something better?”

  “Does Mr. Roth feel the same way about that?” Spencer countered.

  “And you dear.” Ms. Preville turned her attention to Priscilla. “Oh my, where did you get that sword? Wouldn’t it be nice to be part of a school that might let you learn everything it has to offer?”

  Priscilla looked thoughtful, but at a sharp look from Alana, she shook her head. Ms. Preville laughed lightly.

  “It is all right. When we are done, everything will be perfect. You’ll see.”

  Wirt tried to think of something, anything, which would delay them. “How did you even get the chalice?” he asked. “There were spells protecting it, weren’t there?”

  Mr. Roth shrugged. “Spells with a flaw, young man. They were set up to re
cognize Vivaine Lake. Once I realized that, it was not hard to take her form for an hour or so. I could have taken anything. Perhaps I will. Selling some of the stuff down in our stores might help to balance the books a little.”

  Ms. Preville shook her head. “Ervana will need those items to undo some of the damage Ender Paine has done.”

  “But my darling…”

  “No, Urlando.”

  “Oh, very well. I am sure you know best, Aloea. Can we at least get on with the ritual? At this rate, it will be another few hundred years before Ervana gets free.”

  Ms. Preville nodded. “You”re right, of course. Now class,” she said to Wirt and the others with another of those too confident smiles, “I want you to observe closely. There may be questions after. I am going to pour water from the chalice over Ervana here, and that will help the spell holding her to fade. When it has done so enough for her to drink, I will pour water into her mouth, and she will be truly free. And then, everything will be all right.”

  She moved over to the statue, raising the chalice and saying a few words. Immediately, fresh, clear water started to spill over the rim. Where it touched the statue of Ervana, Wirt thought that he could see the grayness of the stone start to fade, to be replaced by pale, delicate looking flesh. More water poured down, and more still, washing away the stone. Wirt saw the petrified woman’s eyelids flicker open, revealing eyes that were startling blue across the whole of their spheres, with no whites or pupils. Lips that had been gray stone a moment ago started to part.

  “Ms. Preville?” Wirt said.

  “I don’t have time for interruptions, Wirt.”

  “I just had one question.”

  Ms. Preville paused, the teacher in her warring with the part of her that wanted to finish the ritual. “Make it quick.”

  “I was just wondering if you could help me with the magic mirror strapped to my back. It’s starting to chafe a bit.”