Why would someone like Ivan Novak go through such trouble for all of this? How many people was he willing to step on and kill to get what he wanted?
“He’s always wanted eternal life,” Dove explained to me, holding a light blue ceramic mug with tiny birds on it (a Christmas gift from me) between her hands, “Master told us once, a long time ago, that Ivan Novak was never granted the Elixir because Flamel knew what he planned to do with it. He couldn’t leave such a powerful item in the hands of a twisted student anymore.”
I thought back to his ravings in the cemetery—how he seemed to refer to Guinevere just like he did the Elixir, an object of power he had to have. I had a feeling that Guinevere was a lot smarter than he thought. “But how does somebody have the power to…transfer their soul from one body to the next?” I asked.
“It’s a hard and very tiring process. It takes a lot of power and alchemy to successfully transfer a soul completely into a body. Usually, the body is…newly dead from natural causes, or…”
“Or murdered,” I finished, tasting bile on my tongue.
She nodded, continuing with her lesson, “To Ivan, going that way was the closest way he could become immortal until he got his hands on a shard of the Elixir. You’ve seen his power, Emery—that was only a fraction of it.”
I sputtered my drink, drops of brown falling on my blanket, “A fraction?! He was insanely strong—much stronger than Leon!”
“He is—or was—a very powerful alchemist, capable of controlling all four of the alchemic elements and more. Remember what I said about transferring a soul to a different body takes much power? Ivan Novak must have gone through hundreds, possibly thousands of bodies over the centuries to continue living.
“I’m willing to bet that he lured in unsuspecting prey—like the former Headmistress, for example—in order to harness their powers and drain them to make the transfer easier. But even he has to use his own alchemy for the process. This is just an assumption, but with every new body he switched to, his power grew weaker and weaker, until he could only control one certain element. Eventually—if we…you…had not stopped him, his powers would have drained and drained until there was nothing left.”
I shivered, gulping down the last of my drink. Even if Ivan Novak had reached the end of his own life….something told me that he would have stopped at nothing to obtain his Elixir; even if he could barely walk, or talk, or harness energy—he was a sick, twisted individual who could twist people around his fingers to do his bidding.
To think that one tiny stone could grant somebody an immortal body. What kind of things would happen if you collected all of the shards?
“Guinevere told you all of this?”
She nodded, shifting underneath the black and blue striped blankets I scored from downstairs, “She said that’s why she took Leon and I under her wing,” she began, “After she found out what Ivan was doing, she wanted to be ready. But…”
“It was too late,” I said, then, worried that I might have upset Dove. “But we did it, didn’t we? We stopped Ivan Novak for good.”
“Yes. We did.” Dove smiled.
“She would be so proud of you and Leon if she knew what you two did, you know,” I pressed, “I know I am.”
We had all made mistakes—some more costly than others. But I knew deep in my heart, wherever Guinevere is right now, she couldn’t have chosen two finer pupils to take under her wing.
I couldn’t have chosen two of the best friends I ever had.
I wasn’t scared of anything anymore. Not about school, or my alchemy, or even the future. Confused? Definitely. Who knew what awaited us later on in the future? How long was my heart going to keep going? I knew I was supposed to die back in the cemetery and somehow, I felt like I was similar to Guinevere, who struggled and fought on until her very last breath. By some stroke of luck, I had cheated death once more.
I had a new life—and I wasn’t going to waste it any time soon.
EPILOGUE
“I still can’t believe we had a piece of the Elixir right under our noses,” Leon mused as he stomped his mud covered boots on the stairs before walking inside the Administration Hall, blending into the sea of black and crimson adorned students who crowded around, comparing new class schedules and gossiping about where they went on winter vacations. Some girls peered over their books at Leon, ears red as they giggled and whispered behind their hands.
Dove laughed softly at his sour looking face. If the young freshman girls thought Leon was cute, the naïve young boys certainly couldn’t take their eyes off of Dove; looking as gorgeous as ever in such an oversized red jacket and skirt, but she somehow (yet another mystery of Dove I needed to figure out) made it look good. “And you even had it in your possession before you foolishly gave it back to Emery.”
“I wasn’t being foolish,” he started, flushing a bit at his sister’s teasing, “I was just—”
“Enough you two,” I walked up behind them as best as I could, balancing my crutches, as I looped my arm through Dove’s and gave Leon a playful pat on the shoulder, “This is your first day, so don’t make me put you in time out.”
The both gave me quizzical looks as we tromped through the crowded hallways to retrieve their semester schedule, since I was put in charge of “helping the new transfer students adjust to St. Mary’s” and all. “I hope that we get history together with Mr. Hogan,” I said to Dove, “And maybe you could come check out the Humanities Club with me. You will absolutely love Karin, too. She’s a hoot.”
“A…hoot?” she said nervously, “I had no idea she had such a condition—”
“Never mind! Forget I said anything!” I grinned, rolling my eyes a little. Even now I can’t really understand Dove’s way of thinking. She’s super smart, super athletic, super beautiful, yet the simplest phrases and jokes fly right over her head. “You know what’s really funny?”
The both gave me perplexed expressions; left eyebrows rose at the exact time, a sibling thing, I guess. It was super cute. I started again, “That Jack—Ivan was with me the entire time and he never even looked once at my bracelet,” I said, holding the now plain silver band up to my face. There was a small gaping hole where the shard of the Elixir had been, but it looked better now, in my opinion. It was like that stone had lived for a single purpose—to save somebody—and now it had fulfilled its duty.
It had been a huge surprise to wake up back in the hospital weeks ago, to see the empty silver band resting on a plastic table, twinkling in the rays of the soft morning light. I had pestered a few people (namely the alchemist duo) but neither had said a thing.
I turned to Leon, grinning. He returned my grin with a big toothy smile, and I felt my cheeks flush scarlet. Ohmigod. He has dimples. How cute is that?! Even with the fading signs of battle all over his face, and the way his body seemed to cringe slightly with every move, he looked positively nice.
Very nice.
We walked out of the building together, bundled up in our coats and scarves that protected us from the mid-January weather as I led the way to our first classes. We passed other groups of students rushing by who were late for class or just idling around on the stone benches, trying to get as much sun and air they could before it got too cold again. I spotted Samantha near one of the small fountains that had been donated by an alumni class back in the 1990’s, surrounded by a few girls that were definitely not Mallory and posse. She looked up and gave me a hesitant, but bright, smile.
I waved with as much enthusiasm that my poor, still sore shoulder could endure, and was pleasantly surprised to see her wave happily back. Maybe, I thought, without all of the drama and near death threats, maybe I’d have a chance at actually making real good friends with Samantha.
Half way across the grounds, near the lake I stopped. Their conversation about their new class schedule (which still left them in awe as they tried to remember the last time they ever in went to school) came to a stop when I twirled around, gripping my crutches tightly. The t
iny multi-colored bead keychain on my leather bag bounced against my jacket.
“So what do we do now?”
Sea-green foamy eyes and icy blue gem-like ones stared into mine. Finally Dove broke the silence, “What do you want to do, Emery?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, lungs filling with cold air, preparing for their outburst, “I think we should look for the other shards of the Elixir.”
“To get your real heart back?” Leon started but I cut him off, shaking my head.
“If there is one thing I’ve learned in the past four months, is that, somehow, someway, there’s a reason the three of us met. There’s a reason why my fake heart didn’t give out that night in the cemetery. Something—I can’t explain it, maybe my…alchemic intuition—is telling me we should follow Guinevere’s path. Not for me, but….well, we’ll find out when we get there, won’t we?”
I didn’t want any more victims like Jack Alexander or Marjorie to suffer from selfish people like Ivan Novak. And the source of all of that greed is coming from the promise of riches and immortality. I didn’t want people like Dove and Leon to have to watch the people they love getting hurt or being killed in front of them to obtain some promise of power.
This is what my heart was telling me. And I didn’t need a fake one made out of a pocket watch to tell me that.
“I want to find a way to destroy the Elixir—permanently.”
The wind blew around us, brushing my thick auburn hair around my face. I reached up to hold the glittery, purple colored flower hair clip in place. No way was I going in to class on the first day of second semester with a mop top.
If somebody had asked me last summer if alchemists had existed, I would have laughed in their face. If somebody had asked me three months ago what I really wanted, I would have begged to have a chance at a normal life again.
But I think meeting Dove and Leon—and getting killed and saved over and over again—had brought something to me. Maybe this is what my real purpose was. Not to get straight A’s, click with the popular chicks, or snag the perfect boyfriend.
We all know how well that turned out.
Maybe this is what I was meant to do—something that Guinevere had tried to do but couldn’t. I had people I wanted to protect now, and people I could save. And besides—I felt like I needed to owe Guinevere. She had sacrificed her beliefs to save my great-grandmother’s life.
And if she hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here.
Finally, after a long, agonizing minute, it was Leon who spoke first, “I’m with you, Emery.” He stepped forward, taking my hand in his. Warmth spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes at his touch.
“And I as well,” Dove said, taking my other hand. Her touch was soft and warm, and it spread like a gentle fire throughout my body.
I grinned, looping around them and linking their arms in mine. Together, we made a very clumsy walk to our first classes of St. Mary’s Academy.
END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are no words to describe how thankful I am to be surrounded by family and friends that have supported this work. Really, I wanted to write an entire page on how difficult it is just to muster up the courage to write this book and get it self published. I’ve spent almost two whole years on this book, and it would have never been possible without the help of some amazing people.
To Rebekah, for proof reading and giving me helpful tips and insight on how to make my book shine. Without you, this book probably would not have seen the light of day! I love your honesty and your hard work. Thanks for being the best friend a girl could ask for.
To my other friends—in real life, and online (especially tumblr)—thanks for putting up with my endless complaints and giving me plenty of hugs to keep me going.
And lastly, to my family, especially my Mom, who was the one to inspire me to write and give me constructive criticism on how to make my book better. Thanks for never giving up on me, putting up with my attitudes and mood swings, and just being generally awesome. LUMI.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“The Fake Heart”, the first in a four-six book series, is Allice Revelle’s first work. Expect the second title, “The Fake Eye” to be released sometime soon!
If you enjoyed this book, the author would love to hear your honest thoughts and reviews. She is also open to constructive criticism.
To leave a comment, please visit her blog at:
http://allicerevellebooks.blogspot.com/
The Fake Heart (Time Alchemist Series) Page 24
