“How do you think he will do?” Chasten asked, nodding to Havash.
“Poorly,” Havash muttered.
“I’ve been studying. I know all of the theoretical applications of alchemy that you have been instructing, along with different practical aspects that—”
Havash looked up, holding his gaze. Something in it had changed. It had gotten harder. Angrier, perhaps. “Practical applications, Mr. Bilson? I’m afraid we have not been instructing you want any of the practical applications of alchemy. Theoretical only.”
“I understand that you only want us to focus on the theoretical applications, but I was researching different topics that you had referenced in the book you had us read to further my own understanding,” Sam said hurriedly. “I thought that would be permitted?”
Chasten started to smile. “I would be most curious to see how this one does,” he said.
“And I told you, it will be poorly.” Havash surprised him, though, and took a seat.
“Well, Mr. Bilson? If you have such expertise in the theoretical applications of alchemy, why don’t you begin and share with us what you have learned during your first few months in the Academy?”
Sam looked at each of them, getting reassurance from the Secundum, almost encouragement, a curious stare from Chasten, and a glimmer of irritation from Havash.
That settled it.
Sam knew what he had to do.
With that, he began to recite the textbook Havash had assigned from memory.
He had no idea how he did with the alchemy testing, but the look of irritation on Havash’s face as Sam had recited the entirety of the book, embellishing on various aspects with his reading, had pleased him more than it probably should have.
As there was no usage of the Arcane Arts in the theoretical application of alchemy, Sam had not needed to demonstrate anything that he didn’t have any ability to do.
That left only angulation.
Havash had made clear during his several lectures that there would be some practical demonstration required for the test. Professor Clarice had returned, and she had acknowledged that, much to the dismay of everybody else in the class, primarily because no one felt as if they were learning all that much.
Sam was mostly worried about angulation.
He had no idea if he failed a single class, if it would result in his expulsion this early, especially as he had to think that he had done fairly well on the other exams. Even though he had not had any demonstration of the Arcane Arts with the others, Sam didn’t think that it had been necessary.
Now he had to prepare for pushing through on angulation, using as much as he could of the theoretical side to convince Professor Clarice, and whoever else was there for the testing, that he was capable.
Even if he didn’t feel capable.
He wandered the Study Hall.
He hadn’t wanted to go back to his room. There wasn’t anything there he was going to be able to study for, and though James would be there, probably worried about how he had done on his own test, he wanted nothing more than to keep wandering in the hallway, looking for something else.
He neared the library when he heard the scraping again.
Rather than going into the library, Sam backed along the hall until he came to the branch point that would lead toward the kitchen. That was where he had heard it the night before.
He stayed there, listening. He didn’t have to wait very long before the scraping came again. And it was close.
He moved carefully, heading along the hall until he heard it one more time.
The scraping came again. He paused. He pressed his hand on the wall, and he realized something. It was warm, but more than that, there was a faint tracing of greenish light around it.
Sam wasn’t sure that he would have detected that had he not been looking for something unusual here. He listened, and when he heard the slight grinding sound again, he backed away from the wall, looking for any sort of marking that would suggest that this was an opening.
He didn’t see anything.
Sam crouched down. The faint tracing of greenish light seemed to be concentrated on one part of the wall.
Near the base.
That was where the trigger for the doorways typically was.
Sam swept his hand along the wall, searching for any indentation. It was dark enough in the hallway that he couldn’t see anything too clearly, so he had to go by feel alone. He had considered bringing the lantern, but he didn’t know if others would be able to see him from the other side. It was no different than Tara’s warning not to use the Arcane Arts—not that Sam could. It ran the risk of revealing him.
Sam continued pressing his hand along the wall, feeling for something, and then he found it. It was subtle and different than what he had felt in other parts of the wall and in different triggers, but when he came across it, Sam knew that was exactly what it was.
He pushed on it and twisted.
The wall came open with a faint grinding sound.
Stairs led down. And there was more of the pale, almost sickly, greenish light.
He froze in place.
Tara hadn’t mentioned anything like this.
But down…
He knew of one place in the Academy that was down. The alchemy section.
The grinding sound came again. It was deeper, louder, now that the door was open. It was coming from that direction.
This was what Havash wanted him to find.
He started down, taking the stairs carefully when the pale light began to brighten. The stairs ended in another section of the wall. The wall was glowing, and he noticed some scratch marks on it.
He found another symbol and hesitated this time before triggering it.
All he knew about the alchemy section was that something terrible had happened. If this led into a part of it that he wasn’t supposed to find, Sam didn’t know what might happen to him.
He took a deep breath.
Then he pushed on the marking. With a soft grinding sound, the door started to open. Sam expected there to be a surge of that same greenish light or some putrid power to come surging out toward him, but there was nothing.
Just a pale greenish glowing.
And the persistent grinding.
What was it, though?
He stepped forward, still holding his breath, worried about what might be here and what it might mean for him. But he was determined. It was a reasonably large room, and he noticed a collection of objects all around him. Some of them were made out of a silvery metal, and as he looked at one, he realized it was an alchemy lantern. He grabbed it, holding it up.
What was this place?
It looked like it once had been some sort of common room, similar to what they had in the tolath tower.
This was a common room.
This was the alchemy tower.
Sam hesitated, before he took a careful breath.
The air stunk, but he didn’t immediately die.
He looked around the common area. The shelves in this space were empty, at least as far as he could tell. He did need a lantern to see more clearly, as everything was darkened, other than the pale greenish glowing that he could scarcely make out. There was a massive table in the center of the room, but nothing else.
He looked through there, following the hallway, and saw rows of doors. Each one had a strange foul coating over the door, and Sam was tempted to push it open but didn’t dare.
At the end of the hall was a different colored door. It was made of silvery metal, and there were markings all along. They were alchemical markings that Sam recognized from his readings in the library.
All of it looked as if it were designed to keep this place sealed. But sealed for what? Was this what Havash wanted him to find?
Standing in front of the doorway, he could hear the grinding clearly. And whatever was causing it was on the other side of this door.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sam backed away from the door, not at all c
ertain what might come out of it and feeling increasingly like he shouldn’t even be here. This was no place for him. He had no idea what was here, other than the constant grinding, and he didn’t care what Havash wanted him to uncover.
He lingered a moment too long, though.
The grinding came even louder.
He scrambled back, his legs getting tangled, and he tripped. When he did, he rolled to his feet. The ground here was scuffed in a way he hadn’t noticed before. Sam froze for a moment, looking at the pattern. He’d seen something like that once before. It had come from when Havash had brought he and Mia to the city in the first place.
Had somebody used some sort of transportation device here? Havash made it sound as if it should only be used outside of the city, in a place where it could be controlled, but…
The grinding came again.
He scrambled back. He reached the door at the far end of the hall. It was much like the other one at the opposite end of the hall, made of silver metal and inscribed with various symbols.
Sam recognized them.
He had seen them in one of the books on alchemy. He closed his eyes for a moment, ignoring the grinding behind him, as he struggled to try to remember just which book it had been.
Methanial. He had been one of the first alchemists at the Academy. The markings had been scattered throughout the book, typically starting each page.
The grinding was louder.
Sam froze. He needed to head back, get into the Study Hall, and away from here. There was no point in him risking himself against whatever this was. No point in endangering himself here. No point in—
An explosion thundered. The walls trembled.
Sam had felt that trembling once before.
Tara had even mentioned something about an occasional tremble, and that was the reason that others hadn’t come down into this section. Havash probably had known about it, too. That had to be the reason that he had wanted Sam to risk himself. He hadn’t wanted to do it himself.
Sam started forward when he realized there was a pale greenish haze that flowed down the hallway. He didn’t want to go into it. Not if it was toxic. He simply didn’t want to risk it.
He turned back to the door. The series of markings on it had a pattern to it. He closed his eyes again, concentrating for a moment as he tried to piece together what he had seen in the book on alchemy, and remembered that the author had spoken of a specific pattern that created a greater connection to the flows of alchemy, whatever that was.
Sam tapped on the markings, not sure if it would even do anything, and was surprised when the door took on a vibrant greenish coloration within each of the markings that then joined together, leaving the entire door to glow brightly.
With a soft hiss, the door came open.
Sam scrambled back into the room just as the greenish haze drifted over to him.
He tried to close the door, but another explosion thundered, and it tossed Sam back. It was dark. He couldn’t see a thing.
He backed up until he reached what felt like a shelf, but the room itself wasn’t very large. It was probably no bigger than a closet. Why would it have been sealed the way that it was, though?
Sam listened.
There was no recurrence of the trembling. No further explosion. The only thing that he noticed was the steady greenish haze drifting toward him, floating across the ground as if it were going to consume him.
He started to get to his feet when a shadowed form appeared in the doorway.
Sam tensed.
Had one of the instructors caught him? He wasn’t supposed to be down here. No one was. He stayed hidden, curled up in the darkness.
The figure held something out. It glowed with the same soft greenish light, leaving a pale haze over everything.
It illuminated the figure.
They swept the greenish lantern around the room. Sam had only a moment to process everything. It was a small room, much like he had suspected. There were shelves in here that lined the walls. Most of the shelves were empty, but there was one that was encased in glass that seemed to draw the figure’s attention.
The figure himself was dressed in a black cloak, and he had some strange-looking mask on his face.
Was he afraid of whatever toxic element was present?
He had Arcane Arts, then. It was designed to protect him.
The man whistled softly, the sound carrying through the strange mask, but not a tune Sam recognized.
He started over to the glass case. So far, he hadn’t seemed to notice Sam at all. Sam figured that was for the best, but how was he supposed to sneak out of here? The way this person was sneaking around in here suggested to Sam that they didn’t belong here either. Probably not one of the instructors. Not anyone who should be here.
But they had Arcane Arts.
The figure had their attention focused on the case, so Sam started creeping around the room. He moved as quietly as he could. If he could get back to the alchemy tower, back into the corridor, and up into the Study Hall, he could be done with all of this. He would tell Havash what he had seen and warned him that there was somebody in the alchemy tower.
All Sam wanted was to be out of here and done with all of this.
He neared the door when his foot caught on the stone floor.
There was a soft scraping.
The figure turned. They held the greenish lantern out.
Sam spun, turning, but the figure was there, grabbing for him.
He spun Sam around.
Sam couldn’t see anything about them but grabbed for the person’s mask. When he pulled it down, he revealed a darkened face. A scar on one cheek looked relatively fresh.
He sneered at Sam, trying to reach for the mask. He raised his hand, and a pale green light began to glow from him.
Sam thought quickly. He had a couple of options. Try to turn and run, get away.
Or he could fight.
This person obviously feared the air here, especially with the mask he kept pulling up onto his face. That fear gave Sam a chance.
Sam launched toward him.
He caught the man, and he brought his hand up, reaching for the mask, which he ripped free and threw to the ground.
There was a soft shattering.
The man darted forward, moving quickly. He grabbed for Sam, tossing him back. When Sam landed on a shelf, his head slammed backward, striking hard enough that he almost blacked out.
The man headed toward the glass case. The cloak he wore seemed to shed light, as if sending it all around him, making it difficult for Sam to see him clearly. He strained to make him out but couldn’t very easily. There was a smear of grayish-black coming off of the cloak, something like the cloud he’d seen when they’d traveled here from Erstan.
As the man reached for the glass case, something in Sam cried out. He lunged forward. He had no idea what he was doing, only that he felt compelled to act.
Sam crashed into the man and staggered away. The man righted himself quickly and spun toward Sam while holding his hands out. Something gripped in his fist glowed softly, the light a sickly green.
That was what he had been after. Whatever had been in the case.
The light exploded from his fist.
Sam dove, getting down before that light could strike him. The light hit the wall behind him, and the lower shelves started to crackle and burn.
Would the same have happened to him had he been hit? He shivered at the idea.
The man held out his hand again, and as before, the strange light crackled from him.
Sam was better prepared. Feinting in one direction, he ducked off to the other side, staying low and barreling into the man’s legs. When he crashed into them, he knocked the man back. Reaching for the man’s hands, Sam wanted to pry whatever the man held free from him before he had a chance to attack again.
The man was stronger than Sam and tossed him off to the side with ease. As the man held out his hand again, Sam braced for the blast of light a
nd fire. It didn’t come.
Rolling at him, he crashed into the man’s legs. The man kicked, but Sam held on. He wasn’t as large as the man or as strong, but he needed to find a way to knock him back.
The man pointed his hand down at Sam, who released the man’s legs and grabbed his wrists. Whatever he cupped in his hands was what Sam had to fear.
Grabbing the man’s hands, Sam started to peel the metallic item free. He had to pry it from the man’s fingers, forcing them away, but as he did, he got the man to release his hold on it. The metal was slippery and warm, likely from the man’s sweat, but if he could just pry it free…
The man staggered back, grunting. Sam held on, ripping the item from the man’s hands. Then he had it.
Getting slowly to his feet, he held the item out. It was small and made of a smooth stone or metal. There was a circular part that pressed up against the palm and small rings for the fingers.
Alchemy, Sam was certain.
The man eyed him, a half-smile on the only part of his face visible. He grabbed the mask off the ground, holding it up to his face, and taking a visible breath. “Hand that back, boy, before you lose your arm.”
Sam looked down at the item. Alchemy. That was the only thought that stayed with him.
The man lunged toward him.
Sam kept his focus on his attacker and slipped his fingers through the holes in the small rings.
When he did, he held the object toward the man, palm facing outward. If he could figure out what the man had done to make it glow with the greenish light, then he might be able to deter him. Not all alchemy required the Arcane Arts. If this didn’t, Sam could use it to defend himself.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The man took a step toward him, and Sam jerked his hand forward. The device didn’t do anything. The man sneered at him. “You won’t be able to wear that for long. Hand it back, and I can make the end less painful for you.” His voice was muted through the mask he wore, giving it a dangerous sound and one that was almost burned, as if his throat were raw.
Sam backed out toward the door, holding his hand away from him, feeling the strangeness of the metal resting against his palm. He could feel that there and the coolness to it. Strangely, he noticed a pale light from within it.
Alchemist Apprentice (The Alchemist Book 1) Page 18
