The Alchemist's Touch

by Garrett Robinson

  “I will go first,” said Theren. “The sheds are easy, and will give you a sense of how to make the landing. If I am atop them first, I can help to steady you. Then we try the wall—that will be the fun part.”

  “I doubt it.” Ebon remembered his sick stomach while standing upon the library’s third floor balcony and shuddered.

  “Up we go, then.” Theren crouched, eyes glowing, and then with a leap she vanished into the air.

  Ebon gulped. Then he felt something under his arms where they joined the shoulders. He looked down, but saw nothing. Theren’s magic, he realized. Steeling himself, he jumped as high as he could.

  An unseen force gripped and hurled him through the air. Then he was falling, with the shed roof beneath him, so quickly he had no time to prepare. He fell with a crash. Soon Theren gripped his arm and hauled him up.

  “All well?”

  Ebon nodded, a bit shaken. A moment later, Kalem came flying through the air to land beside them.

  “The next leap will be harder,” Theren warned. “Prepare yourselves, and be ready to grip the wall with all your might.”

  Again she leapt first, her glowing eyes vanishing into the mist above. And again Ebon felt unseen hands holding him up. He crouched low, and for a moment could not will himself to move.

  “Ebon?” said Kalem.

  “A moment.” Ebon drew two deep breaths. “Sky above, protect me.”

  He leapt.

  He launched through the air, the mist stinging his eyes and forcing him to close them. The cold kiss against his skin vanished. He opened his eyes to see the top of the wall rocketing towards him, and that he would not clear it. Panic seized and froze his limbs. But then his chest struck the wall’s lip, and on instinct he reached forth to grab it. His elbows barely cleared the edge, and his shoes scrabbled uselessly against the wall as he tried to help himself rise the final few paces.

  “Ebon!” Theren fell to her knees and reached for him, just as he lost his grip and fell into empty space. For an instant, time stopped, and he thought his heart might leap from his throat. But then Theren’s hand closed over his wrist, and he slapped the wall hard enough to knock the breath from his body. She swung him one way, then another, and her eyes glowed once more. He felt another unseen push, and an invisible rope tugged him atop the wall.

  He collapsed on his back, panting, clutching the granite beneath him until it scraped his fingers. Theren must have thought he was hurt, for she knelt above him and looked into his eyes.

  “What is wrong? Are you injured?”

  Ebon shook his head, unable to speak. She grinned at him.

  “I will wager you never thought the Academy would be like this, goldbag. Come. Kalem is waiting, and likely wondering what we are up to.”

  She stood and went to the edge. Ebon closed his eyes, willing the world to stop spinning.

  “Aieee!”

  Kalem screamed, clearing the lip easily and landing facedown. Like Ebon, he seized the wall’s top as though he might never let go.

  “Sorry,” said Theren. “You are much lighter than either of us. I may have brought you up too quickly.”

  “Yes, you may have,” said Kalem, voice shaking.

  “I cannot go back down.” Ebon’s voice seemed to break on every other word.

  “What?” said Theren.

  “I cannot do that again. I cannot move. Please. Please, I cannot.”

  Kalem pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked ruefully at Theren. “He does ill with heights. I had forgotten.”

  Theren shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Come now, Ebon. It is only a little jump. Going down is much easier, for I do not have to lift you—only stop you from falling to your death.”

  Ebon’s limbs shook harder. Kalem, still sitting, slapped Theren’s leg. “Leave off, Theren! Can’t you see how you are frightening him?”

  “It is not her, Kalem,” said Ebon. “Look how high we are. I was mad to think I could do this.”

  Kalem crawled to his side. “Come, Ebon. You must go down, one way or another. It may as well be on the outside, rather than into the training grounds again.”

  “I cannot move. Tell one of the instructors I am here. They can lift me. I care not if they punish or expel me. I cannot move, Kalem.”

  Kalem frowned and put a hand on his shoulder. “But you can. Because you must, and because you were right before. Your family has evil afoot. We can stop it, but not without you. Come, my friend. Sit up, first. Then we shall take the next step.”

  Sit up. Sit up. That seemed easy enough. Ebon drew another deep breath and forced his hands to slide across the stone until he could lift himself. Soon he was half-sitting, though still he tried to keep himself low to the stone.

  “Good, good,” said Kalem, speaking softly, as though to a wounded animal. “Now. Theren will go down first, as she did before. And I shall be here until you are ready.”

  Theren shook her head, but did as Kalem said, stepping off the edge and vanishing into the darkness. They could only see her eyes, faintly glowing in the black ten paces below.

  “It is so far,” Ebon said, trying not to wail.

  Kalem squeezed his shoulders. “You can do it. Come now. You are older than I am.”

  “That only means I am larger. What if she should drop me?”

  “You heard her—going down is much easier than going up. If it helps, I will push you.”

  “If you do, I will pull you with me.”

  They both chuckled, though Ebon’s came forced. “All right,” said Kalem. “Whenever you feel yourself ready.”

  Ebon forced himself to slide closer to the edge. It was just there now, right beside his hand. He did not even have to jump. He could simply fall. His heart still hammered in his chest, and spots of light danced before his eyes. He might faint. That would get me off the wall in short order. The thought invited a bitter laugh.

  He slid his feet over the edge, and cast off.

  Again, panic seized him—but this time Theren caught him. He could see her as he drew closer, the glow in her eyes brightening, hands raised as though she held him, rather than her magic. Ebon slowed the nearer he drew to the shed roof. Two paces above her, he was no longer afraid, for he moved slower than a brisk walk. He came down upon the roof easily, but still his nerves made him fall to hands and knees.

  “Did I not tell you?” said Theren. “Easier than going up.”

  “You were right.” Ebon forced himself up and embraced her. She started in surprise, but hugged him back after a moment. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, well,” said Theren, clearly uncomfortable. “Leave off, or our little alchemist will dive into the abyss without me to catch him.”

  A moment later, Kalem was down. He and Theren jumped easily off the shed roof. Ebon elected to climb down, hanging from the edge before dropping down to the street. Then they put their feet to the cobblestones, running until the Academy was out of sight behind them.

  They looped around until they were heading west again. Kalem looked about them in excitement, his young face glowing with a silver tint in the moonslight.

  “This is terribly, terribly stupid of us. We could get in a great deal of trouble, or even be expelled from the Academy. It is all rather exciting.”

  “I fear we have proved a poor influence on our young friend, Ebon,” said Theren, teeth flashing in the dark.

  “Perhaps, but he may be better for it. You are a bit prudish when it comes to rules.” Ebon ruffled Kalem’s hair. Kalem batted his hand away.

  “Leave off. You speak as though you have done this often, instead of once, and only with the Dean’s special permission.”

  “Lucky for you both, then, that I am an old hand at this,” said Theren.

  “How many times have you snuck out?” asked Kalem.

  “You mean this month?”

  Ebon shook his head and smiled. In truth he was far more worried about this excursion than he had been the last time he was in the city after dark. B
ut now the journey was his choice, and besides, he had his friends in his company. That was more comforting than wandering ignorant at his father’s bidding.

  Before long, Theren had led them to the Shining Door, which looked every bit as dirty and irreputable as the last time. “Don your hoods,” said Ebon. “I would not have anyone here recognize Theren and me from before.”

  “They will see our students’ robes,” said Theren. “That may be more than clue enough.”

  “That we cannot help.”

  With raised hoods, they entered the inn. Almost immediately, Ebon felt Kalem draw closer. Patrons in the common room cast evil looks upon them. Ebon tried to ignore them as he made his way to the back, where the barkeep stood with his hands spread on the counter.

  “Well met,” said Ebon, trying to deepen his voice. “We seek a man who roomed here, or mayhap does still. He had a thin beard and elf-white skin. He wore blue and grey when last I saw him.”

  “I may know many men,” said the barkeep. “And it does not do me well to discuss any of their business. Shove off.”

  Theren tensed beside him, but Ebon put a hand on her arm to still her. From his purse he drew a gold weight, sliding it to the barkeep. The man eyed the coin, but did not move. Ebon sighed and extracted another, placing it beside the first. “That is all you will get, and is well worth loosening your lips.”

  The barkeep scowled, but took the coins and tucked them into his pocket. “The one you seek is not here, though so far as I know he has not taken his custom elsewhere.”

  “What use are those words?” snapped Theren.

  “They are my only ones.”

  “What room does he have?” Ebon asked.

  The barkeep pointed to the hallway leading to the back. “First on the right.”

  Ebon withdrew another coin. No matter my allowance, at this rate I shall soon be a pauper. “For your willing assistance.” If the man caught the irony in Ebon’s tone, he did not show it—but he took the coin.

  They moved towards the hallway, Ebon in the lead. Kalem tugged at his sleeve and whispered, “What do you mean to do?”

  “Search the man’s room.”

  “Are you mad? What if the barkeep is wrong? What if he is here, and slumbers within?”

  “If he is slumbering, we shall have no trouble,” said Theren brightly.

  “Unless he wakes. Or does not slumber, and is sitting there waiting in lamplight, for some foolish Academy students to bumble inside to their deaths!” Kalem’s voice rose by the word until he was nearly screeching, though still in a whisper.

  “Our only other choice is to turn back and make for home,” said Ebon.

  “That seems an excellent idea.”

  “For cowards,” said Theren.

  “I am going,” said Ebon. “Kalem, if you wish, you may withdraw. We shall find you on the street in a moment.”

  Kalem seemed like he might, but then looked about the room. Many eyes were now upon him, for the three stood alone in the room’s center. “Oh, very well,” he muttered. “Only I think this is the height of idiocy, and speaking of the two of you, that says quite a lot.”

  They reached the door. Ebon pressed an ear to the wood, but heard nothing. He turned the latch and stepped inside. The door gave a long creeeak as it opened. There were no lanterns—the only light came from the common room itself, and that was dim enough to show nothing.

  He squared his shoulders and crossed the threshold. The room was dead silent. Kalem’s footsteps sounded like thunder, entering behind him to swing the door shut.

  It took a moment for Ebon’s eyes to adjust, and even then they could not see into the shadowed corners. But faint moonslight seeped through cracks in the drawn shutters to reveal a dirty, unkempt bed, and a single chest of drawers. There was a lamp on the floor by the bed, and for a moment Ebon thought to light it. But that might be folly; what if the man returned, and saw the light glowing under his door?

  “Look quickly,” he said. “The package was of brown cloth, and tied with simple string. Find it, if you can, or anything unusual that might have been inside.”

  Theren moved to the bed, searching beneath the straw mattress and under the pillow. Her nose coiled in disgust. Ebon understood why as he dropped to the floor and searched beneath the bed—the floor reeked of something untoward, a smell he could not place and did not like. But there was nothing under the bed, except some rubbish of paper that held nothing.

  But from the chest of drawers, Kalem whispered, “Ebon.”

  Theren went to him at once, and Ebon joined her a moment later. He saw the brown cloth parcel in the chest’s bottom drawer.

  “That is it,” he said. “Open it.”

  “Why should I?” said Kalem, voice shaking. “You open it.”

  Ebon reached out with trembling fingers and undid the string. The brown cloth fell away. But in the darkness, he could not see what lay within. He drew it out, and held it under the moonslight.

  It was a tabard, that was plain. White with gold edges, large enough to be worn over a suit of plate—or perhaps chain, if the wearer were particularly large. It covered chest, back, and upper arms. A lifetime of wealth told him the cloth was fine. But more importantly, upon the breast was displayed a sigil: a four-pointed star, with a red gem heart. Ebon knew he had seen it before, but it took him a moment to place it. His heart skipped a beat when it did.

  “The High King’s sigil,” breathed Theren.

  “This is worn by the palace guards,” said Kalem. “I went there once. Every one of the High King’s personal guard wore a tabard of just this make.”

  “Why would I have been asked to deliver this? And to a man like the one we saw, in such a flea-ridden place?” asked Ebon.

  “Perhaps there is more to be found,” said Theren, returning to the drawer.

  About to look over her shoulder, Ebon froze. The door’s latch turned, and before he could tell them to hide, it flew open. There in the doorway, wreathed in the lamplight from the room beyond, stood the pale man with the thin beard.

  twenty-two

  Kalem gave a sharp cry and stretched out his hands. His eyes glowed as a thick mist filled the room. At the same time, Ebon leapt forwards to drag Theren back from the chest of drawers. Together the three of them pressed back into the room. Ebon did not know what to do, except that attempting escape through the door would mean death. He was only thankful their hoods were raised, and likely the man had not seen their faces.

  Theren tore from his grasp, and in panic lost his grip on Kalem. A form came forwards through the mist, wiry hands grasping at empty air. The man seized the front of Ebon’s robe before he could flee, and dragged him close.

  “Help!” Ebon tried to strike the man’s face with a closed fist, but found his wrist caught in an icy grip. The man’s skin was cold and clammy, and though his arms were thin, they were full of wiry muscle. The other hand released Ebon’s robe. Then Ebon heard a snikt, and recognized it at once as the sound of a drawn dagger. Steel flashed in the moonslight as the man brought it high, ready to plunge Ebon’s heart.

  Then something struck him, something Ebon could not see. The man’s head flew back, and he dropped the blade. Something invisible seized his ankle and flipped him upside down. Ebon remembered seeing the same thing happen to Lilith when she had attacked him and Kalem in the tavern: Theren’s magic.

  “Run!” she cried. Ebon ran for where he thought the door was, but misjudged and struck the wall instead. A small form crashed into his back—Kalem. Ebon grabbed the boy, and together they pressed through the door into the hallway beyond. Theren was there, but wasted no time with words. Together they fled through the common room, ignoring outraged cries from the barkeep behind them. Soon they were in the cool, clean air of the streets beyond, and kept running until they had left the Shining Door far, far behind.

  At last they stopped in an alleyway far from any main street. Kalem collapsed against a brick wall, sliding to sit on the filthy ground. His eyes we
re closed, and head thrown back. He cast down his hood, panting too hard for words. When he finally spoke, his gaze fixed angrily on Ebon.

  “I hope you are proud of yourself. You nearly got the three of us killed!”

  Ebon was bent nearly double with his breathing. He glared back at Kalem. “How was I to know he would return while we were in his room?”

  “How could you simply assume he would not?” said Kalem. “He did not mean to hurt us, Ebon, but to kill us. Can you not imagine what would happen if he had? Imagine our parents receiving letters, telling them that we had been slain by some scoundrel in a rat-infested inn upon the High King’s Seat?”

  Ebon felt his cheeks burning, and looked down at the street. “My father would read the letter, and then most likely throw it in a fire. I doubt he would even tell my mother.”

  “I came from an orphanage in Cabrus.” Theren’s voice was nearly as quiet as Ebon’s. “No one would care. My patron would see it as an inconvenience, before finding another wizard to do his bidding.”

  Kalem’s mouth hung open, but no sound left it. He looked back and forth between them, and then dropped his gaze. “I…I am sorry. I had not thought…that is, I thought only of my own parents.”

  Ebon shrugged. “Who could blame you? I should not have thought only of myself. You are right to be upset, Kalem. It was thoughtless to bring you here.”

  Theren gripped the boy’s shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Do you jest? We might be dead if not for our brave Kalem here. Your mists were exquisite.”

  Kalem still looked abashed, but gave a little smile. “I panicked. I hardly knew what I was doing.”

  Theren smiled. “Better a companion who unknowingly does the right thing than one who knowing does the wrong, I always say.”

  Their somber pall suddenly vanished, and Ebon grinned at his friends. But then it dampened, and he said, “I only wish we had learned more. Still I do not know what he had that guard’s uniform for.”