The glow he’d seen from the man radiated from the device. “This is a vrandal,” the man said. “And seeing as how you don’t even know the term, I have to wonder how you learned to control the power in it.”
“I haven’t. It doesn’t respond to me. I’ve been working with it, trying to get a sense for how to control it, but I can’t get it to work consistently.”
“They haven’t taught you?”
Sam regarded the man for a long moment. “They have some alchemists that have been trying,” he started, though Chasten hadn’t really been working with him. He had learned some of it on his own. “Unfortunately, the person who had the key was lost. Understanding it is difficult.”
The man smiled at him. “I’m sure it is. Why don’t you share with me what they have shown you?”
He pulled a chair out from the wall, allowing Sam to look around. When he’d first fallen through the barrier, he hadn’t really taken much stock in the room. Now that he had a chance to look, he found a staircase leading up to a door. That likely was the barrier he’d crossed, which explained why he’d staggered and tumbled when he’d gone through it. The walls were all stone blocks, the mortar crumbling in some sections. A narrow window near the top of one wall would let in light during the daytime, but it was darkened now. A bed occupied the length of one wall, and there was the chair the man had moved. Nothing else.
Where am I? More importantly, who is this man?
“Feel better about yourself?” the man asked.
“I was just—”
“You were just trying to determine where you were. You should have done that as soon as you got here. That should have been the first thing the alchemists taught you.”
“I don’t know how much he’s really got me working with him.”
“I’m sure of that. Now, why don’t you tell me what he’s been teaching you?”
Sam looked around. There wasn’t any way out other than the stairs, and even then, he didn’t know if the barrier there would be too much for him to overcome quickly. Were it to come down to him needing to escape; he would have to find a way to be quick. He didn’t think that was going to be possible here.
He needed to talk to this man. Strangely enough, he didn’t sense danger from him. He had a device much like the one Sam had, and Sam hoped to get answers. It was about time he learned something more about the device. He needed to know how to use it.
“He’s been telling me that I need to learn to trigger it,” said Sam.
“Telling you that? Not teaching you how to harness it?”
Sam shook his head. “He hasn’t been teaching me that.”
The man grunted. “The vrandal requires a particular touch. For you to be able to access the power within it and within yourself, you need to be able to connect to it.” The man grabbed his arm again and started to pull on the device.
Sam had been through this enough that he was prepared for the possibility of pain surging through him, but there was none. The device didn’t move, though—not like it had when Luthian tried to remove it.
“Well, you’ve connected to it. That’s the first step. I suppose that’s why Havash thought he’d be able to teach you.”
“Why wouldn’t he be able to?”
The man settled back in the chair and looked up at Sam. “Understanding the vrandal requires you to know more than just yourself. Have they had you focus on your emotions?”
Sam looked down at the key. “I didn’t realize that it was tied to emotion. It seems to be more linked with patterns that I try to use with it.”
“Patterns. Emotion. There are various techniques involved in understanding how to utilize a vrandal.”
Had emotion made a difference?
“I suppose frustration has been some of what I’ve dealt with,” Sam said.
“I’m not surprised. Emotion is part of it, but controlling that emotion is even more important. You need to harness it. Control it. If you can’t control your emotion, you won’t be able to control the vrandal.”
This was different than what Havash had told him. The way the vrandal glowed softly in the man’s hand had to mean he understood the device, whoever he was. It was the type of understanding Sam wanted to gain. If he could learn more about it and control it, they would be able to begin using the book.
“How do I make it work?” Sam asked.
“Each one is a little different. It depends upon the alchemy used in its construction. And as you have probably seen, alchemy is different for each user.”
Sam didn’t know why that would be. “Because of the arcane arts involved in it?”
“Something like that,” the man said.
Sam traced his hands along it and looked up at him. “Who are you?”
He snorted. “You have a device of real alchemy, and you don’t even know? I don’t know why I’m surprised. Most within the Academy are afraid of understanding alchemy. They think that they can’t control it, mostly because those who have arcane arts don’t bother to have the right temperament for it.” He snorted. “But where do you think the Academy learned alchemy?”
Sam couldn’t help but stare at him. “The Academy learned alchemy from you?”
“Not me, but those with me. Alchemists. The original alchemists, as it were.”
“And you are fighting the Nighlan?”
“They seek power that they should not have.”
“I don’t understand any of this.”
“That’s obvious. Maybe you should ask Havash. Then you might understand.”
Sam traced his finger along the surface of the key. “Havash knows about your organization, then?” If he did, why hadn’t he said anything to Sam? Then again, Sam wasn’t truly tied up with the Academy, so perhaps Havash had been uncertain about whether or not he should trust him. It was an emotion that Sam had shared about Havash.
“He knows, and he knows that he cannot be a part of it.” He nodded to the key. “Not an alchemist.”
Sam’s mind was working, trying to understand more about what he was telling him. Maybe if he asked the question might be able to find more.
“Luthian Rold attacked us. Is that why you’re here?”
The man sat up and stiffened. “Why would Luthian be here?”
“I think he was rescuing Ferand.”
“Ferand too?” The man whistled and settled back. “You said ‘rescued.’ That means he’d been caught.”
Sam nodded. “He was the one who attacked the Academy. He was after the almanac.”
“He didn’t get it, did he?” There was an intensity in his voice that hadn’t been there before, even when talking about Luthian.
“He didn’t get it. We stopped him.”
“We?” The man smiled slightly. “Don’t tell me that you stopped him. You said you could barely control the vrandal.”
“I barely can, but I think I was worried enough during the attack I was able to use it well enough to read the book.”
The man jumped to his feet, hitting his head on the ceiling. “You read the book?”
“The vrandal let me. This is the key.”
Sam hesitated before answering. How much should he trust this man? He already said that he wasn’t a part of the Academy, and though he understood alchemy and had made a point of revealing just how much understanding he had of the key, it was difficult for him to know how much to trust someone like this.
“The vrandal let me.”
It was the truth, but it also meant something more.
The man stood there for a moment, rocking in place. He glanced toward the door. “Come with me.”
He grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him along toward the stairs. Then straight through them.
The stairs—and Sam’s planned escape route—weren’t real. When they stepped through, they appeared in another room smaller than the last. There was only a table and a lantern that reminded Sam of the lanterns in the Academy.
The man knelt in front of the table and pressed his hand with the vrandal against i
t. When he did, the light shifted, taking on more of the greenish glow. It surged, and surprisingly the device on Sam’s hand started to pulse with more intensity than it had before. He held his hand up against his chest, trying to control how it pulsed, not wanting to release that power.
“You there, Bardall?” the man said.
“I’m here.” The voice that responded was muted, strange, and wispy. And it came from the lantern.
“Good.” The man sighed and shuffled on his knees for a moment before leaning toward the lantern. He looked at it, pressing his face close. “The almanac remains protected. Sounds like Ferand tried to snag it and the key.”
“We knew they were moving on it. We had heard the rumors. And with what we lost in the city, our resources—”
“Right. And Luthian was here.”
“In Tavran? That couldn’t be,” the voice said.
“That’s the word I got.”
“What word is that?”
“From the student who apparently read the book to keep Ferand from it.”
A student.
That was what he was to this man.
And maybe it was true, though Sam didn’t always feel like he was a student, certainly not one of alchemy.
He watched him, trying to prepare himself for the possibility that he might not be who he claimed he was.
“Where is he?”
“With me. He’s been working to try to control a vrandal he took off Ferand.”
“Ferand had a vrandal?”
Sam shook his head. “It wasn’t his. It was in the vault—”
The man raised his hand, cutting him off. “Not his. He found one. Sounds like it was one of the Academy vrandals.”
“One of them?”
“I don’t know. I’m not keyed into that. That’s not why you have me involved in this business.”
“Take it easy,” the voice said.
“Easy? We lost five in the attack.”
Sam leaned over, trying to see if there was any way he could tell what the man was doing and who he was talking to. It seemed as if the lantern glowed a little differently, and the lantern light pulsed in time with his own device. Other than that, he got nothing.
“How are you talking to him?” Sam asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him. The man glared at him for speaking.
“Is that him, Daven?” the voice asked.
The man turned his attention back to the lantern. “That’s him. I figured working in the Academy would have taught him when to keep his mouth shut.” He glanced toward Sam, frowning a moment. “Should I bring him to you?”
Sam backed away. He wasn’t about to go with this man anywhere, though he wondered if he would even be given a choice.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. We have someone there.”
“Ferand still came after the book.”
“He’s not after the almanac. They are looking for something else that they feel is within the Academy.”
Sam frowned. He was all but certain that they had been after the almanac. It was an item of incredible power. He and Tara had seen that themselves. He knew just how dangerous the almanac was, especially to someone who understood the arcane arts. Which Ferand did.
“He wouldn’t have to guard it if we—”
“We will keep the book where it is. Return the boy to the Academy and complete your assignment.”
The lantern started to shift, the color changing back to the white light Sam had seen when he’d first entered the room. Daven got to his feet, looking at him. “Guess you need to get back to the Academy.” He took Sam’s wrist and again stepped through the wall, this time returning to the room they’d been in before. “Get going,” he said.
“Wait,” Sam said. He couldn’t go yet. He had too many questions. Daven would have answers, especially about the thing Sam wanted to know most of all. “How do I control the vrandal?”
The man grunted. “Don’t think I can teach you that in a night. Listen, it’s a wonder you’ve connected to it. Without the right training, most don’t even do that. You should have taken it off the moment you got it.”
“I couldn’t.”
“What do you mean you couldn’t?”
Sam looked down at it. “When I was trying to get away from Ferand, I put it on. I couldn’t take it off. I didn’t want to keep it on. I didn’t know what it was or what it could do, but I couldn’t remove it.”
Daven looked at him. “Ah, piss. Listen. Learning how to use the vrandal takes time, which I’ve not got to give. I’m only going to be in Tavran for a few days, and after that, I’ve got other assignments. I don’t think I can help with what you need.”
“You know more than anyone at the Academy.”
Daven laughed. “Of course I do, but there’s not a whole lot that I’m going to be able to do to teach you. Not with what I have to do.”
Daven pushed him toward the door, and Sam tried to push back. He didn’t want to be shoved away just yet. If Daven could teach him about the vrandal, then he needed to know. There would have to be something he could learn.
“Just show me a few tips. Help me understand what I need to know so I can use it.” Sam squeezed his hand, letting the energy fill him before holding out his palm for Daven to see. “That’s all I want. You were coming back here anyway, so that tells me you were done with whatever brought you out into the city.”
Daven stopped pushing him. He glanced to the wall where the barrier separated this room from the other. “Suppose Bardall won’t mind anyway, seeing as you’re going to be there with the book…” He motioned for Sam to take the chair, and he took a seat on the bed.
Sam held his hand out, looking over at Daven. “Why were you surprised that I was able to read the almanac? The vrandal is the key.”
“It’s the key, but not many can use it.”
“I didn’t really do anything to use it. It was more accidental than anything.”
“I’m not terribly surprised. That almanac is old. Older than almost anything known to alchemists. And the key might be one of the oldest forms of alchemy that we know.” He held out his hand, showing his vrandal. “This was manufactured by trying to replicate that one.”
“Who made these to begin with, then?”
Daven shrugged. “Can’t say that I know. Or that I care. I learned to use it, and that’s all that really matters.”
How could that be all that really mattered?
In Sam’s mind, he needed to have answers, understand how to use the vrandal, and understand what it meant.
But in this case, there didn’t seem to be anything that he would be able to learn from Daven.
He wasn’t a student of alchemy.
He was a user of alchemy. He was a fighter.
Daven looked around before leaning forward and resting his forearms on his legs, watching Sam. “What do you feel from your vrandal?”
“Right now? It’s pulsing a little bit. It doesn’t really hurt, but there are times—”
“Not right now. In general. What do you feel?”
Sam shrugged. “Most of the time, I don’t feel anything. I’ve gotten used to having it on. It’s a little uncomfortable, and I think I’d like to take it off but can’t.”
“When you master it, you’ll be able to.” With that, Daven slipped his off. The light within it faded quickly, and the light within the room shifted, leaving only the vrandal on Sam’s hand to light the room. “Mind you, there aren’t too many times you want to do it. Once it’s off, another can take it. That’s probably what happened with the one you have.”
“Why can’t they remove it when someone dies?”
“When an alchemist dies with a vrandal still attached, the power is lost. Don’t know why, though. That’s not my area of expertise.”
“What is your area of expertise?” If Sam knew that, he might be able to learn what had brought Daven to the city.
“Not the creation of the vrandal. Now, do you want to learn more about this or not?
I’d rather sleep, so if you’re going to keep questioning me…”
Sam shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“You need to focus on what you feel. Some of that is your emotion. That’s what people stuck in Tavran get caught up in, and it’s also why they’re never able to use the vrandal the way they could.”
“I don’t know that I feel anything.”
“What do you feel about it?”
That was an easier question to answer. When he looked over at Daven, he wondered if the man knew about the longing he felt to understand and use the power. Could he know that Sam had no power of his own and that he wanted to be able to use the device so he could have some for himself?
“I want to be able to use it.”
“That’s a start. Why?”
Sam sighed. Did it matter if he shared his reasoning with Daven? The other man had offered to help him learn, and if that meant he’d be able to control it, then Sam needed to figure that out.
“My sister.”
“Your sister? That’s a strange reason.”
“It’s because my sister has natural magic. I’ve always wanted to be able to do what she can but have never had any potential. I grew up knowing she would eventually be able to head to the Academy and that she would be able to learn to control magic, while I would have to stay behind and learn to be a minor alchemist.”
Daven studied him. “When did you come?”
“Not long ago. We came to the Academy only a few months ago.”
Daven whistled. “Only a few months, and you’ve already gotten mixed up in all of this?” He whistled, shaking his head. “Can’t say that I envy you.”
“Thanks?”
Daven shrugged. “Who brought you to the Academy?”
“Havash. He came to our hometown, tested my sister, and I thought he was hurting her so…”
Daven frowned at him. “So what?”
“I might have attacked him. And then he pulled me into trying to help him figure out what happened within the alchemy tower.”
Daven started laughing. “You attacked Havash. I suppose that makes you all right with me.”
“You don’t like him?”
“Don’t know him all that well, but he came to us trying to understand alchemy. Only alchemists belong with us.” Daven shifted in his chair and scooted forward, looking at Sam before flicking his gaze down to the key. “So you want power, is that it?”
Alchemist Assault (The Alchemist Book 2) Page 13
