Fracture: The Color Alchemist Book Two

by Nina Walker

  The crowd cheered, once again, as red alchemy swirled into the air. I expected Richard to interject and order me to tell her to do one thing or another, but he didn’t. I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. I needed to show them what was possible with red alchemy. The more I pulled the red from her blood, the more side effects she would have.

  I pushed the red magic farther into her, felt the power surging through me as well. “Dance!” I called.

  Immediately, she stood and began to move to a beat only she could hear.

  “Freeze!”

  She did, one leg balanced in the air.

  “Sit down.”

  She sat right there on the floor.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Jasmine,” she replied, calm.

  “Where do you live?”

  “The palace.”

  “Go and sit in your chair.”

  And now we’re done, right? I looked out in the crowd, took a little bow, and made my way toward the edge of stage.

  “Not so fast, Jessa,” the king sing-songed. His voice echoed through the room. I stopped. “That was a charming little presentation of red alchemy. As you can see, manipulating the color out of a person’s own blood and then using it on them allows for mind control.” The crowd was utterly silent. The room even had a faint echo. “Now, I’m curious. Do you think we could control someone enough to tell us the truth?”

  Terror gripped my entire body. No. I couldn’t do this. I shook my head. “It’s used for actions. Blue is used for communication,” I protested.

  The king laughed as he strolled over to me, carrying the microphone in his hand now. “Blue is very useful, that is true. Persuasion, listening, trying to figure out if someone is being honest. But red, now, I think red takes it to a new level, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” I breathed. What was I supposed to do? Run?

  “I think you do know,” he said. “But no matter, let’s find out. Go to Jasmine, put your hand back on her wound, and repeat what I tell you. Got it?”

  I stared at the room, blinking rapidly. Would someone save me? Where was the Resistance? Shouldn’t they be here by now? Something was wrong.

  I walked back to Jasmine and did as he said. Her blood was thick under my fingers, and I longed to make it go away. Just make it all stop!

  “Ask her if she’s loyal to the monarchy.”

  I gulped. She stared off into the crowd, dazed, her eyes empty orbs. She wasn’t in control. This was wrong! I prayed she’d be able to fight this magic, but it was futile. The magic would work. It had every time before. I wouldn’t be so lucky. Jasmine wouldn’t be so lucky.

  “Are you loyal to the monarchy?” I asked, my eyes filling.

  She paused, her eyes moving from side to side. I hoped that meant she was gaining control again. But I felt the power coursing through me, felt my question fighting with her mind.

  “No,” she said, her voice steady and sure.

  The crowd, so silent before, erupted in noxious whispers.

  “Now that’s a shame,” Richard said, his voice flat. “I had hoped my suspicions were wrong.”

  Officers lined my peripheral vision. The heat of panic burned hotter.

  “Ask her who she works for.”

  I paused.

  “Ask her who she works for!” he bellowed, stalking toward us.

  “Who do you work for?” I forced the question from my mouth, fighting tears.

  “The Resistance.”

  I dropped my head in shame.

  “Well, even I could have come up with a better name.” Richard laughed, but he moved to put his face between Jasmine’s and mine. A blood vessel pulsed in his forehead, and he gritted his teeth. “Now tell me, Jasmine, are you working alone?” He looked at me, eyes bulging.

  Terror ignited through my entire body. What was I going to do? I stalled for a second.

  The king yelled, “Ask!”

  I started. “Are you working alone?”

  “No.”

  I needed to stop this. I needed to help her!

  He growled, dropping the microphone now. He moved in, his face only inches from Jasmine’s languid expression. “Who are you working with? Tell me?”

  I forced myself to speak. “Who are you working with?” I asked, the tears now free, running down my face. Any minute now, everything would be over. She would tell. And I would probably be dead because of it.

  She fought, shaking her head, yelling nonsensically. She put her hands to her ears. Blood started to drip from her nose.

  “We’re hurting her,” I gasped.

  “Ask again!” Richard boomed, then straightened. I choked on a sob as he moved in behind me, squeezing down on my bare shoulders. Officers surrounded the stage, ready to intervene.

  “Who are you working with?” Terror gripped me.

  “I…I…” Jasmine sputtered. She ripped at her hair. “Get out of my head!”

  “Ask again!”

  “Who are you working with?” Tears ran down my face. I hated myself for it. My grip loosened momentarily as I fought the urge to vomit.

  Her mouth opened and closed in rapid succession. She dove. It all happened so fast. One second she was in the chair, the next she was on the floor. More blood. The knife gleamed between her fingers. There was no hesitation as she ripped it across her throat. No!

  There was erratic screaming. It was me, sobbing, falling to my knees, reaching for her. I was wrenched away by meaty hands. I clawed at them. Thick arms wrapped around me, restraining. Jasmine was slack. Richard screeched words I couldn’t understand. What was happening?

  “Heal her,” I yelled. Or maybe it was Richard. I looked around, frantic. I needed to help her. Several alchemists jumped to the stage. Someone dragged a green plant with them.

  So much blood. Everywhere.

  Alchemists surrounded her, pushing the green magic into her again and again. It wasn’t working. It wasn’t doing anything. I tugged at the arms around me, needing to try for myself. Nothing.

  “We can’t save her,” someone said.

  “She’s gone.”

  Someone was sobbing.

  It was me.

  “Snap out of it!” Faulk shook me, minutes later. “It’s over, done with. Jasmine is gone.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had nothing. It was empty inside. I looked around, finding myself in a ball on the floor off to the side of the stage. The ballroom was still filled with people. They buzzed, talking loudly over each other.

  “You did a good job,” Faulk said, her blond hair shining in the light of the stage. The room was still dark, the spotlight still lit. “I didn’t think you had it in you. But Richard was right.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, you have to finish your initiation.”

  I shook my head. I wanted to save Jasmine. I wanted to see Lucas. I wanted to get as far away from the palace as possible. I wanted to go home. Tears began to spring to my eyes again.

  She slapped me. My head jolted to the side.

  “Ouch!” The sharp pain cooled across my skin, focused me.

  “Stop it.” She stared at me, her eyes sharp. “Suck it up, Jessa. You will finish this initiation right now.”

  I nodded this time. She was right. I was in this thing whether I liked it or not. And now Richard had the weapon he needed. Me. I stood, deep breaths filling my lungs, and wiped away the tears. And I did what she said. I sucked it up.

  Faulk held my arm and led me back to the front of the stage. I tried not to look at the blood. The urge to gag was too strong.

  “Sit down!” Richard called out to the crowd over the microphone gripped tightly in his white knuckled hand.

  The room quieted immediately, everyone finding their seats. I could make out Lucas, just barely through the spotlight. His eyes were wide, staring at me.

  “I hope I’ve made myself clear,” the king continued. “There will be no rebellion! We are at war. We will win that war. This kingdom,
my alchemists, my officers, you are all loyal to me! And if anyone shows even a moment of hesitation, I will use whatever means necessary to root you out and end you.”

  The room was blanketed in complete silence.

  “Now,” Richard said. “Let’s finish this initiation, shall we? Jessa, I know that was hard for you. Thank you for your loyalty.”

  I nodded, hands trembling. I closed them into fists.

  “Repeat after me,” Faulk said, taking the microphone into her slender hand. She wasn’t dressed up as everyone else was; the officers had stayed in their white uniforms. Hers was stained in blood. “As a member of the Guardians of Color, I hereby swear my allegiance to New Colony and to my king. I will defend and protect the royal family with my life. I will be true to my word and swear myself to His Majesty.”

  I repeated every word.

  “Long live the king!” she finished.

  “Long live the king.” I repeated that too.

  The crowd cheered, less eager than earlier in the night. Fear had replaced me as the guest of honor.

  “Now, somebody clean up this mess,” Richard said, “and let’s finish our dessert, shall we?”

  18

  Sasha

  I concentrated on the thumping rhythm of the rotor as we zipped through the night sky. True to their word, West America sent helicopters, guns, and soldiers. We had a troop of about twenty of their best men, and combined with our own, there were about a hundred willing and able to fight. Their helicopters were much larger than ours, each fitting twelve bodies plus the crew. We flew out after dinner, knowing it would take about four hours to get to the capital. My stomach in a knot, I hadn’t touched much food all day. I absentmindedly picked at the hem of my long-sleeved black shirt and adjusted my combat boots under my weight.

  I was strapped into a rudimentary chair, the two rows close and facing each other. Among us were Hank, Tristan, Mastin, Cole, and Christopher, much to my frustration. He had insisted on taking the trip and nothing would dissuade him. It was awkward, and every time I looked his way, I caught him staring at me. We’d all done our best to outfit ourselves in black, durable clothing and sturdy shoes, but the military men really looked the part. I sat quietly, going over every scenario in my head.

  The palace was weak at the moment. Most of the best alchemists and officers were in West America trying to gain ground. King Richard had declared war, and in the process he had not only begun stripping areas of West America of color but had also taken over multiple cities. New Colony had a bigger army than West America expected. It seemed King Richard had been planning this for years.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Christopher said, speaking loudly over the whoosh of the chopper. “You and I can stay in here until it’s over.” He pleaded with such sad eyes that it was hard to meet them. This man was my father, but he was a stranger.

  I sighed and turned away. He already knew my answer was no. All day, he’d been hounding me to back down. But we were already on our way, no backing out now. I shot a glare his way, jutting my chin. “And what about Jessa? Are you going to forget about her now too?”

  He frowned. “It wasn’t like that. It was never like that.”

  “Fine. Explain it to me then. What was it like?”

  “We would’ve kept you hidden.” He rubbed his hand along his jaw. “We even did for a little while. If we’d known they’d take you away forever then we would’ve found a way to get out of there sooner.”

  “But you did know about my magic?” I asked.

  The body of the chopper was lit with a red light. It shone on his face in the darkness, casting long shadows. I could just make out the whites of his eyes before he closed them briefly. “Yes,” he said.

  “Don’t you get it, Christopher? I remember what happened!”

  “We didn’t know what to do.” His voice shook. “When they came for you, it was because a neighbor had told on us. She saw something, I guess. They wanted to take you both. You and Jessa.”

  “So you let them take me to protect Jessa? Or to protect yourselves?”

  He sat, quiet for a minute. “I am so sorry, Frankie. We made a mistake.”

  “Don’t call me that. I don’t use that name anymore.”

  He nodded. “I’m sorry, Sasha. You didn’t deserve this. There wasn’t a day that went by when we didn’t think about you.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” I muttered.

  The other ten passengers had grown silent during our exchange. Some stared openly while others looked away, their faces taught. We were free entertainment. Just line right up and see the cast-off daughter and estranged father put on a show. But part of me wondered if he was telling me the truth. What if they really had tried to help me?

  “I know we met before but just in case you forgot my name, I’m Hank.” Hank reached out to shake Christopher’s hand. “I’m sorry your family had to go through that. It’s not right.”

  “Thank you,” Christopher said, returning the handshake.

  “I hope to get your other daughter out of there.” Hank didn’t say what I knew. Getting Jessa out wasn’t the mission. Jessa was exactly where she needed to be, and no one was taking her out tonight. Not unless this mission went so well there was no New Colony at the end of it. Not likely. “I’ll help you make sure Sasha stays safe in there,” Hank continued.

  They nodded at each other, like they understood what it was like to love me. To be my dad. I ground my teeth, refusing to be swayed by the warm, fuzzy feelings exploding in my heart.

  This was too much for me.

  “Let’s go over the plan again,” I said, changing the subject.

  “All five choppers will land at the same time, and we storm the palace together,” Tristan spoke up. He sat forward in his seat. “All of the major operatives will be busy for a few hours in the main ballroom, the royals too. So that’s our target. Of course, we still expect guards and patrols. But we will move quickly.”

  The idea of landing five helicopters at once sent me into panic mode, but I didn’t show it. This was how war worked. It wasn’t supposed to be safe.

  “Our targets are General Faulk and King Richard. We want them dead,” Mastin said, his voice cutting through the darkness like a knife. “We’ll give everyone else a chance to surrender.”

  “Jasmine is confident that most of the alchemists will be sympathetic to us,” Hank nodded. “We can expect the same of the officers, but there shouldn’t be as many of them there tonight.”

  “You’re sure about that?” I asked.

  “Faulk and Richard have been sending more and more people out every day,” Cole’s steady voice jumped in from the far side of the chopper, low and sure. It was the first I’d heard from him all night. “The king has left himself vulnerable for attack. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

  It made sense. But still, not everyone signed up for this was equipped to do the job. Most of the alchemists were newbies, and even though we had trained soldiers too, I had yet to see them in action.

  “Your boys any good?” I asked.

  Mastin laughed. “We’re men. And we’re the best.”

  “I hope you’re right about that.”

  We dropped quickly. The inertia did little to calm my nerves as I bent over to see out the back window. From my position, I couldn’t see much. When I caught sight of the palace, lit up like a beacon, blood rushed through my eardrums. I felt my face get hot, and I inhaled a deep breath. We unstrapped our safety restraints and got ready, knees slightly bent, our bodies close together at the edges of our seats.

  The alchemists had gemstone necklaces wrapped around their necks.

  Everyone else had guns.

  A lot of guns. And I worried many of those gun-touting men didn’t actually know how to use them. Maybe West America had thought of that and some of those weapons held tranquilizers instead of bullets. But I knew that it was probably wishful thinking…

  The second the helicopter landed on the grass, Cole slammed
the doors open. We jumped out, crouching low. We all ran as silently as we could, arcing out in a fan across the palace lawn. More helicopters dropped in, and more people spilled from inside. We continued to fan out, low and quiet. It was so dark, and the heavy cloud cover blocked out any stars. The moon was only a faint glow.

  I looked to my left and noticed Mastin taking off in a different direction. I could tell Tristan was staying close to me on purpose. So was Christopher. He wasn’t trained for this. He should have stayed back, but heaven forbid that stubborn man listened to reason.

  “Hide out here,” I told him, pointing to a darkened cropping of trees. “I’ll come back for you.” And I would. Even though I didn’t consider him my father, he was still Lacey and Jessa’s father. I didn’t want him to die.

  “I’m not leaving you,” he said, pushing forward to keep pace with the others. I sped up but he matched it. He must have been a runner. I wondered what it would be like to exercise solely for health. For me, it had always been a matter of training.

  A matter of life and death.

  The soldiers had walkie-talkies. One of the devices crackled, and a man muttered a reply. Then there was a yell and the snap of a gunshot. It sounded like a silencer.

  “Let’s go,” Tristan said. He grabbed my hand, and we high-tailed it to one of the lower level windows.

  Christopher followed on our heels. I jumped when my father picked up a rock and threw it through the glass. Then he reached in and unlatched the lock. “I’ll go in first,” he muttered.

  Maybe I get my impulsiveness from him.

  The plan was pretty simple. Everyone had already been briefed on where the main ballroom was located. We were to go in from all angles. There were several doors leading into the room so it would be easy. The alchemists were to fight the other alchemists and officers. The West American soldiers were the ones going in for Richard, Faulk, Lucas, and anyone who got in their way. If I was given the chance, I would do the same. I wanted to end the king. But it would have to wait. The plan was to kill Faulk and Richard. Lucas and the remaining officers and alchemists would be arrested. Anyone who put up a fight would also get arrested, and if we had to kill some of them to make that happen, we would.