The Fake Heart (Time Alchemist Series)

by Revelle, Allice

I maneuvered through stacks of books and old desk chairs towards the stairs, but it wasn’t coming from up there. It was more to my right, so I headed that way. I bumped into books, cursing under my breath as I stubbed my big toe on the corner of a box until I reached a dusty empty bookshelf.

  I placed my hand on the back of it—it was cold, as if a continuous wind was hitting it, like when you place a hand on the door of a room that has caught on fire—it was like the fire was pushing the heat against the door. Except this time, the cold was pushing itself against this shelf.

  I placed my heels and clutch on the shelf, tied the raggedy blanket around my shoulders so it wouldn’t fall off, and pulled at the corner. It took some effort. A lot of effort, but eventually, after nearly ripping my nails off, I tugged the end just far enough to where I could fit through. I wanted to kiss the shelf in glee, but I didn’t have time to waste.

  I was met with complete darkness, the cold wind coming through faster. I pulled it open a little further, shocked to find that there where shelves on the inside of the tunnel—with a few blankets piled neatly on one, a couple of dusty flashlights and granola bars. Through what little light I had the expiration date was last month, so these…supplies had been down here a long time. What was all of this—

  Sororities. St. Mary’s sororities. These were the tunnels they used for their initiations!

  It was just like Karin had said: there really were secret tunnels under St. Mary’s! But would this lead me to safety or would I just rot away, lost forever underground?

  “And I know firsthand where the tunnels lead too.” Karin’s words rang true in my head, and I grasped onto her confidence, feeling myself warm over. “Bonaventure Cemetery!”

  I made a mental note that if I ever made it out of this place alive, I was going to hug her and kiss her on the cheek like there was no tomorrow. Karin Foster is my idol!

  The only problem I had now was…did I really want to do this? My heart thumped extra hard as I peered into the darkness. It was freezing cold and smelled like dirt and mold, but the end of that tunnel would take me to Dove and Leon.

  And possibly the Elixir.

  I had to do this. I absolutely had to. And I did, slipping on my shoes (better to walk uncomfortably than barefoot. What if I stepped on a nail or something?), borrowed some of the…sorority sisters things, and slid through the gap in the wall, clutching the thin brown blanket and my clutch against my beating chest. The breeze was chilling, but it seemed to encourage me to keep going.

  I just hoped I knew what I was doing.

  CHAPTER 25

  The light that shone through one of the flashlights did little to help, but it was better than walking through a pitch black tunnel. I thanked my lucky stars that I had found all of those sorority things, probably to assist new girls through the tunnels or reward them when they came back through unharmed—either way, if I ever saw Mallory again I would probably kiss her, too (or at least, be nicer to her). One of the blankets, despite being cold and dusty was a better improvement from the brown, oily rag, and the two granola bars filled me up nicely as I kept on. I just…had to imagine that I was going down the dark yellow brick road to Oz, and not to some creepy ass cemetery deep underground.

  I kept my left hand on the tunnel’s wall at all costs, walking along the eerie passage way. The air got colder and damp as I kept going, and I wondered how far it would be of a walk to get to Bonaventure. An hour? Maybe two or three? I don’t think my feet could handle it. More importantly, would this itty bitty flashlight’s battery last that long? My clutch barely had enough room to shove an extra one in there, but now I started to regret not taking them all anyway, even if I had to carry them the entire trip.

  But I pushed forward; no way was I going to die in a spooky tunnel. If all else failed, I could just go back towards the direction of the library—at least I knew it was a one way shot, even in the dark.

  About fifty minutes (just like I thought, according to the tiny pocket watch I had in my clutch. I had to squint to see the little hands tell me) later, past eight o’clock was when I finally reached the end of the tunnel. The end expanded into a large, round room. Pitch black, of course. Not even the narrow stream of light could help me, but I kept my hand on the wall and circled around.

  Suddenly my knees hit something hard and solid and I plummeted forward. But I didn’t land on the ground; I landed on what felt like a large flat surface.

  That’s odd, what are stone tables doing underground? I gripped around, until I felt a breeze brush my face. Perfect! I followed the wind (as silly as it sounded), until I found a set of stone stairs and ascended. My head slammed against the ceiling and I swore again. It wasn’t until I pushed it up a little did I realize it must have been a door.

  It was heavy, but not enough to hold me in as I carefully lifted it until it was all the way open. Crisp winter wind hit my face and I breathed in the wonderful fresh air. I looked around. I was inside some sort of building with a thin black gate that must be a door. To both my sides there were huge stone slabs—coffins. I peered over my shoulder. In the moonlight I could make out another stone slab. The same stone slab I had just tripped over was a coffin. I stifled a cry, thinking I just wandered through some family’s personal grave site.

  But I was here.

  I was in Bonaventure Cemetery. At least, I hoped I was. I mean, it took me quite a while to walk here—it must be! I stepped out, my feet aching from however many miles I had walked underground and pushed the gate open. It creaked loudly. I scanned the dark area, save for the lampposts posted near the corners of the dirt road, their lights flickering in the wind.

  The moon was nearly hidden by large oaks swaying in the wind. White stones popped up everywhere, gleaming like bleached bones. Statues of crying angels and little girls stared at me, wondering what I was doing invading their territory in the dead of night.

  Dead of night, I inwardly snorted, how funny. But it wasn’t funny anymore, especially since the small beam of my flashlight finally flickered and died. I beat it against the palm of my hand. It sputtered to life and then went black.

  Okay, chill out Em. You are just freaked out because you’re in the cemetery in the dead of night! I didn’t really believe in ghost stories. Then again, I didn’t believe in alchemists until a few months ago. I guess anything was possible.

  Still, I didn’t want to meet any ghosts or spirits tonight. Not ever, really.

  So I was finally here in Bonaventure. Question was: where were Dove and Leon?

  Obviously, they’re searching for the Hearst Family Site. Now the bigger question was: where was it exactly? I decided to go right (my lucky side, I guess you could call it), and stayed as close to the edge of the trees and gravestones as I could in case somebody not so friendly caught me snooping around.

  I must have walked ten, fifteen minutes at the most, and I swear I kept passing the same graves over and over. Now I wished I had planned this whole, “Emery escapes to Bonaventure!” idea better—if only that damn Ice Alchemist hadn’t tried to kill me, I’d be dressed warmly from head to toe with a decent map to lead the way!

  My heels dug into the soft dirt as I walked. The borrowed fleece blanket did good at keeping the cold from chilling my skin, but it still didn’t stop the goose bumps flecking all over my bare skin. Something was very wrong here. I knew I wasn’t alone here—but it didn’t feel like somebody friendly was watching me.

  There was faint shouting coming from behind some trees. My ears perked up. I recognized one of the voices—Dove!

  I dashed forward, ready to hug her out of sheer relief and beg her to come back home before something really bad happened, and then I remembered I wasn’t supposed to be here. Instead, I ducked behind the trees and peered through one.

  Dove’s back was to me, but I could see the hint of a fiery red scarf that blocked her ears from the cold. I almost giggled. The scarf was a gift I found at a JC Penny’s when I ordered my crappy dress. She was pretty shocked to see it, but
I liked it—it was soft and silky, with the same deep red as her beautiful flowing tattoos that ran over her arms. Besides that she wore a thick black jacket, but her usual outfit was underneath—her white sweater, plain denim shorts and black thigh high stockings and boots. Didn’t Dove ever get cold?

  “Get out! You don’t belong here!” Dove shouted, her voice piercing the black night. I flinched, thinking she was talking to me. But then I remembered she couldn’t see me. It was whoever was standing before her that she was shouting at—

  It was Headmistress Margaret.

  She had her hair in the same tight bun, and she was bunched up in a gray fur coat with white trimming. Her black pants covered what looked like black boots with a pretty high heel. The Headmistress didn’t seem like the type to wear faux fur and four inch heels like the preppy, spoiled girls back at the dorm. She seemed too…uptight for that sort of thing.

  But her eyes were still the same piercing black, and a tight smirk was on her pretty face. “It’s too late, little bird,” she sneered, “I already took care of that little rat. She’s somewhere back on school grounds frozen to death. Nobody will even know she’s missing until weeks from now.”

  My heart froze—not literally, but it did stop for a split second, sending a wave of hot-and cold pulsing through my body. Headmistress Margaret was the one who had tried to kill me? Twice?! But—but why?! How could she—

  A hand clamped over my mouth and the scream I had held in was muffled. I flailed about, clawing the arms of whoever was holding me until I heard them speak. “Em!” Jack’s honey-like voice was suddenly in my ear, “Em, it’s me!” he whispered, “Calm down!”

  I did, and before I realized it hot heavy tears began falling down my cheeks as he cradled me like a baby. Jack was here. He was here! But what I had just seen—what I had just heard, it scared me so badly I wanted to cry harder.

  I clutched his tux tighter, wrapped in his familiar scent of Old Spice and peppermint, and a hint of something earthy. I sniffled. “Jack, what are you doing here?”

  “I was worried. I followed you here. What on earth are you—oh, never mind,” He placed a finger to his lips as he spoke softly and grabbed my hand before glancing again at the Headmistress and Dove, who were still glaring at each other, “Let’s get out of here first,” he said, leading me away. Part of me wanted to run with him all the way back to the dorms and cuddle by a fire and forget all of this happened. But I pulled at his grip, which tightened.

  Something wasn’t right.

  “Wait, Jack,” I said my voice low and trembling, “What do you mean you followed me? How? How did you even know I was here?”

  His eyes widened and he looked as if I were crazy, “What does it matter?” he hissed, all the warmth in his voice gone. Irritation flashed through his dark gray churning eyes, like a coming storm cloud. “We need to get out of here! Now!”

  “I can’t! I—”

  Dove’s scream sent my heart palpitating as I turned to see her being rammed into the trees behind us. The Headmistress had her neck in a vise-like grip as she held Dove’s body, cool blue light illuminating from her fingertips. Dove tried desperately to scratch at the hands as her skin started to cover in frost and ice. She feigned passing out, then, when the Headmistress released her grip just enough, Dove let out a choked growl and swung her leg, kicking the Headmistress in the ribs.

  I screamed as the Headmistress punched Dove over and over, cackling like a witch—the same laughter I had heard in the woods on Thanksgiving—that made my skin crawl as Dove coughed up blood, her body too weak to fight anymore.

  “We need to get out of here! Now!” Jack roared, pulling at my wrist and dragging me along the dirt path. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t respond to what Jack was telling me.

  Dove was in pain. She was bleeding and bruised and I needed to help her! I dug my heels into the dirt, forcing us to stop. Jack opened his mouth to protest but I screamed before he could, “Let me go Jack! I have to help Dove! I have to help her!”

  “Em—”

  “Emery! Get away from him!”

  My head whipped up as Leon descended above us, landing with a resounding thump between me and Jack, who had released my hand to avoid being trampled over. Leon quickly got up, holding another black iron sword in his hands, aimed directly at Jack.

  His brown hair was matted with dirt and blood, and his clothes—a white tee and a size too big brown jacket, along with mud caked boots and jeans—were tattered and frayed, covered in dirt, but he gave me a nervous grin anyway. Tears threatened to flood again when I saw those sea-green eyes spin with relief, anger, and fear. For some reason they made me feel safe.

  “Leon!”

  He gave me a smirk before facing Jack, sword at the ready, putting his body in front of mine. I rushed towards his side before he could attack, “Wait! Jack is with me! He’s not the bad guy, Leon!”

  “Emery, listen to me, that guy isn’t who you think he is—!”

  Suddenly the earth rumbling beneath our feet, and a loud crack like lightening pierced my ears. I shrieked as a large jagged edge of the earth suddenly jutted out from beneath us, sending Leon flying clear across the pathway. He slammed against top a large gravestone, and there was a nauseating crack as his head collided with the stone base. He slumped onto the ground and didn’t move; his sword still lay in his open palm, forgotten.

  I stifled another scream at his lifeless form, “LEON!”

  Jack’s hands gripped my wrist again. But this time it wasn’t gentle or warm. It was crushing and cold. His eyes, normally a beautiful gray like the underside of a cloud or the shadows of snow were as black as the night sky. A wicked grin formed on his beautiful lips—the same lips that had offered me sweet and comforting words. The lips that I had kissed not hours earlier.

  “Sorry about your little friend, Em,” he says, but his words were hollow and freezing as he stared at me like I was a piece of trash on the side of the road, “But if you want them to live, you’re going to take me to the Elixir.”

  My eyes were frozen in Jack’s own wicked ones, my heart hammering like mad, bruising the inside of my chest. Finally, my eyes moved slowly over his face and down his neck, where the gleam of his silver chain that he always wore winked at me. This time I finally saw what was at the end of that necklace, the one Jack always said he kept close to his heart for good luck.

  It was a smooth piece of stone in an oval-like shape, with black intricate swirls that zigzagged all around. They looked nearly identical to the shapes on Leon’s wrist band, and on Dove’s arms and my own tattoo.

  They were alchemic Runes.

  Jack was an alchemist.

  CHAPTER 26

  “J-Jack—why are you doing this?” I asked, hating how my voice trembled. But I couldn’t help but be scared—the same kind, gentle, funny Jack that I loved so much looked like a stranger in front of me, like somebody had peeled away his sweet mask to reveal a ghoul underneath.

  This couldn’t be real—it couldn’t be happening!

  He sighed, as if bored with my little tantrum, “This isn’t a game of twenty questions, Em.” I bristled at the way he said my nickname, “I just need one answer: where is the Elixir?”

  “I—I don’t know,” I lied, staring him down with my own eyes, despite my bones shaking and my heart thumping in complete fear. “T-They wouldn’t tell me.”

  His eyes turned even colder as the back of his hand collided against my jaw. It happened so fast it didn’t even register. Pain exploded on my cheek and I tasted copper in my mouth. I placed my free hand over my face; a large red welt was already forming. I flinched at the touch.

  Jack had just hit me. He had just back handed me like it was nothing! I was furious. Furious and terrified and scared for my life, but his gaze grew even duller as he eyed me. “Where is the Elixir, you lying little brat?”

  I glanced over, tears streaming down my cheeks at Leon, willing, praying he would leap up and save the day like usual
, or to Dove, who hadn’t moved at all; her skin was as pale as the ice that coated the Headmistress’s fingertips.

  They were both down for the count, and if I didn’t act quickly they’d be done for. I shivered, not from the cold, but from the raw fear inside me as I squeezed my wet eyes shut.

  The only way to save them was to do what he wanted. My heart seized up. Oh, it would hurt them so much to lose the shard of the Elixir, but….but—!

  “I don’t have all day,” Jack glared; squeezing my wrist tighter until I literally heard something snap. I stifled a screech as a shot of pain jolted up my arm, glaring at him. I had to do this. For them. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to go down without some fight.

  I narrowed my eyes, “I am not a little brat,” I said, praying my voice was calm, “And for your information, I do not know where the Elixir is exactly. But,” I said before he raised his hand again, “The only thing I can tell you whose grave it’s hidden in. I haven’t the foggiest idea where the actual location is.”

  I mentally cursed myself for not studying the Bonaventure map I saw on the web earlier. It would help so much if I knew where I was, and I could lead them on a wild goose chase—at least long enough for Dove and Leon to (possibly) escape so they can live.

  After a long agonizing moment he finally released his hand. I clutched it near my chest, rubbing the sore spot and sending a hateful glare in his direction.

  “Very well. Tell me the name at once.” It wasn’t a question.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat at the grave mistake I was about to do, “It’s in a grave that belongs to a woman named Kathleen Hearst.”

  He didn’t look convinced, so I tried again, “The name Hearst was mentioned in Guinevere’s journal. I did my research—something you oh so loved to praise me about before—and I know for a fact that there is a shard of Elixir buried with Kathleen Hearst. It’s kept inside of a locket. If you don’t believe me, go look up her obituary.”

  “Master!” the Headmistress rushed over, her voice sickening sweet a she called out. My blood ran cold. Jack’s expression didn’t change in the slightest, although his lips twitched into a wan smile as if he were about to greet his beloved pet dog at the doorstep.