Alchemist Assault (The Alchemist Book 2)

by Dan Michaelson

  He stepped inside and paused.

  Sam turned back and noticed that the breathing in the hall had shifted. He stood fixed in place, focusing on what he could feel of it. It was a steady sense of the wind moving, but there was a part of it that seemed to have stopped. Why though? Something must have disrupted it.

  He’d lost track of time, as he often did, and didn’t know if it was late enough in the day for him to expect Tara to be there. He didn’t think so since he’d been pacing for only a short while—not long enough for him to have noticed anything more. If it wasn’t her, then who could it be?

  Sam approached cautiously, focusing on what he could feel around him. Each step was slow and careful as he neared the door. This was another thing he’d begun to detect since becoming blind. He could sense the walls near him, almost as if he could feel pressure from them. He didn’t need to hold his hands out to guide himself through the hall the way he once had. Some of that was a familiarity with the area, and some was the soft breath of wind.

  He paused at the door. “Hello?”

  His voice was loud in his ears, though it could’ve been because he was so accustomed to the quiet. Usually, when Tara visited, it took a few moments before he adjusted to speaking to someone again. She always seemed to shout.

  There was no answer. He could feel that the sense of his room was off, which was odd to him. For one, there was the strangeness that came from the interruption to the wind. That was subtle but enough for him to notice. More than that, though, he could feel the pressure of the walls in his room. That felt off as well.

  “I can’t see anything, so if you’re there…”

  “Samran.”

  The voice was soft, but he recognized it. “Grandam? Is there anything I can help you with?”

  Sam wished he could tell where she was. She was near him—at least near enough that he could feel her in front of him. It surprised him that she would come to his room, of all places.

  When she didn’t say anything, he took a deep breath. He had been worried about the Nighlan attack in the city and what happened to Daven. It was even more than what he was worried about with himself, which felt strange to him.

  “I heard about your injury.”

  “Havash told you?”

  “He did.”

  “He thinks I should recover,” he said. It was difficult for him to put much confidence into the words. With each passing day of no change, he felt a failing sense of hope that he would ever recover enough to see. Sam was trying to find a way to adjust, even if that meant adjusting to a life without sight.

  The conversation he’d had with Tara came back to him, though he knew how she would react if she knew what he was thinking. Even if he could somehow stay in the Academy, without having any way of reading, would he have a place here? His advantage was his mind, and he needed to be able to see to utilize what he could.

  “Indeed. That is why I have come.”

  “You want to try to help?”

  “Given what you did to protect the Academy, I think you’ve earned that.”

  Sam didn’t know what to say. He’d never had the sense that the Grandam had been particularly fond of him, though much of that came from how he thought she felt about Havash. He suspected it bothered her that Havash had returned to the Academy since he’d once been the Grandam. Still, he hadn’t seen Havash do anything that would undermine her.

  “Havash has tried to heal me, but there’s something that makes it difficult for him.”

  “Is that right?”

  Sam felt a surge of movement nearby and realized that she was closer than he’d known. He would have to get better at detecting people. He didn’t like the surprise, and this was something he could work on with Tara.

  “Let me see if there’s anything I can do,” she said as she grabbed his hands.

  He tensed. When Havash had tried healing him, he’d done so without touch. Tara had, though Sam didn’t know if that was out of necessity or because of whatever they had between them.

  “This device is quite surprising,” the Grandam murmured.

  Her voice was soft. Distant. The tingling sense coming off of her began to work through him, starting near the vrandal and adding a hint of warmth with it. Sam braced himself, not certain if there would be any pain associated with her healing. What he’d felt from Havash and Tara had been uncomfortable at times, though without pain, but he still wanted to be prepared for the possibility.

  The tingling and warmth were unpleasant, and Sam tried to ignore them. The Grandam gripped his hands tightly. The vrandal didn’t move, though in the last few days, it had seemed more solid than he’d thought when he’d first come around. At that time, he’d assumed that he’d eventually lose the connection again, but that didn’t seem to be the case now. The vrandal held firm.

  Now when the Grandam pulled on it, he could feel pressure from within the arcane magic she used. It rolled up his arms and through him. There was power. The tingling. The vibration and warmth.

  There was pain.

  Sam tried to pull away, but the Grandam held onto him. “Only a little more. I think I detect what Havash mentioned,” she said.

  “It hurts.”

  “There can be pain with healing. It’s a matter of accepting the pain so you can move past it.”

  The feeling was similar to what he’d experienced when the vrandal had started to shift on his hand the first time.

  Sam pulled his hands away. “I’m sorry. It’s just that—”

  “I can help you, Samran, but not if you withdraw.”

  He wanted her help. He wanted the healing but didn’t think he could tolerate the pain. When Havash had worked on him, Sam hadn’t been able to withstand it. There’d been such an awful sense that made him pass out. Was that what the Grandam would put him through? But for him to recover his sight, wasn’t it worth the pain?

  Sam held his hands out again, and the Grandam took them. Hers were cool, which surprised him, given how much warmth he felt coming from her. She squeezed, though the squeeze wasn’t comforting like it was with Tara. There was a surge of hot pain, the sharp needles working through his hands and up to his arms.

  “Is it supposed to feel like you’re stabbing me with needles?” He could barely speak and struggled through gritted teeth.

  The Grandam squeezed again, and the sharpness intensified. Sam resisted the urge to pull away. If he did, she might choose not to try to help him, and he wanted her help. Havash was knowledgeable and powerful, but the Grandam would have a different kind of knowledge. If she knew something that could help him, then he wanted to take advantage of it.

  The pain flared in his arms. Now it moved beyond, spreading to his head. There was a flash of light.

  “I think—”

  The vrandal started to move.

  Was the healing separating him from the vrandal? Maybe that was part of the problem. He was trying to have both the vrandal and his eyesight. It was possible that he couldn’t. It was possible that he would have to choose between them. The reason he’d been blinded was because of the way Havash had bonded him to the vrandal again. For all he knew, there wouldn’t be any way for that to happen.

  The pain flared again, even worse this time. Another flash of light came. Sam reacted without thinking and jerked his hands free. The vrandal came with him, loose once more. He slipped it onto his hand, and it stayed.

  Sam sighed in relief. It surprised him to feel that way.

  “I was nearly there,” the Grandam said. “A little further, and I think I would have been able to remove the damage. Then you would be able to see.”

  “If you do it…” Sam didn’t want to admit what would happen. It seemed foolish, though Havash had healed him so he could restore the connection to the vrandal. It was that healing that had left him in the state he was in.

  “If I do it, then you should be able to see again, Mr. Bilson.”

  He squeezed his hand. It seemed as if the vrandal was staying more tightly
bound to him now that the pressure of her healing had been removed.

  “I understand,” he said. “There has to be a different way, though.”

  The Grandam moved close enough that he could smell her. She had a floral fragrance that reminded him of the flowers in the garden. Here was the Grandam, offering him an opportunity to recover. How could he not take it? It was what he wanted. The healing was what he needed. A little more time and he thought he’d be able to see again. The pain would be a small price to pay for that.

  Sam raised his hands again, and there was a shift to the wind behind him. He turned, realizing he was standing at the door to his room.

  “What are you doing?” Tara asked as she approached. “Oh. Grandam.” There came a soft surge of energy from her, along with a warmth that swept through Sam and left him feeling refreshed.

  “I heard that Mr. Bilson suffered an injury,” said the Grandam. “I thought I would offer my assistance, considering everything he has done for the Academy.”

  The powerful pressure continued to build from Tara as if she wanted the Grandam to know what she was doing. “Havash and I have been working with Sam. There’s something locked in his mind, though we think we’re getting close to removing it.”

  “You, Ms. Stone? You should not be neglecting your studies.”

  “I’m not. My studies have been—”

  “You have testing soon, so I don’t expect to hear that you’ve let your focus sag from where it needs to be. Others can help Mr. Bilson, as you well know.”

  Sam would have had testing, as well.

  Maybe he still could.

  It all depends upon what Havash had told the other instructors and whether he had shared the truth of Sam’s illness.

  But he would have to figure it out quickly.

  Sam could feel the pressure shifting. The Grandam was leaving.

  “We will work on this another time, Mr. Bilson. I think you should rest.”

  The energy following her continued to shift, and Sam focused on it, trying to determine if he could detect anything else. There was a sense of power but nothing more as she headed along the hallway.

  “What was that about?” Sam asked when he could tell the Grandam was gone.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t care for the way she was looking at you.” Tara took his hand and guided him into his room, closing the door. There came a sense of energy, and he wondered what else she’d done.

  “How was she looking at me?”

  “It was strange, Sam. I’ve never known her to take any interest in healing anyone.”

  “It’s probably because I went to her when I found Luthian.”

  “Did she say anything about that?”

  “Nothing that helps. She didn’t find him.” Sam hadn’t expected that she would. Havash had been looking as well, and neither of them had found him. Worse, he suspected the Grandam was right and that Luthian was still in the city. It would fit with his brief experience with the man. He was after something, and it seemed as if it were something more than just Sam’s vrandal.

  He shook his hand. He could still feel the tingling where she’d been healing him. There had been flashes of light, enough that he believed she would be able to help him see again if only he’d been willing to endure the pain.

  “What happened?” Tara asked.

  Sam brought his hand up to his face. If only he could see it, or anything really. “It just hurts.”

  “Your hand?”

  He nodded. “The healing. There was a flash of light—”

  “There was?”

  “I thought it was going to work, but then it faded.”

  “Oh.”

  “The pain was like what it was when Havash attempted to heal me—more than what I could stand. I think if I’d been able to tolerate it a little bit longer, she would’ve been able to help.”

  “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

  Sam smiled. “You didn’t just interrupt. You used… something.” He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, only that there was a surge of power within it.

  “I detected something strange when I came down the stairs. Then I saw the Grandam. I thought she was doing something to you, but maybe I’m wrong. Either way, it doesn’t matter.” She took his hands and led him to sit on the bed. “Should I see if I can do anything to heal you, or would you like to explore?”

  Sam snorted. “I think I’ve had about as much healing as I can tolerate today. It might be best to explore.”

  “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  He squeezed her hands. “I know you and Havash and even the Grandam are doing what you can. I also know that it might not matter. This darkness might be permanent—”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know. But I do have to prepare for the possibility that it is. When I observed the minor alchemist in Erstan, I saw people who came into the shop with injuries frequently.” Well, as frequently as he could. Arne didn’t always care for Sam’s presence. “Most of them were minor, but there were a few that were more significant. There often wasn’t much that could be done for them other than to reassure them.”

  “Reassure them?”

  “Injuries heal over time. They might not get better, and the people that came in with those injuries might never be the same as they were, but they heal. The people heal.” He forced a smile he didn’t feel. “Even this will. Either it will get better, or I’ll get used to it. One way or another, I’ll recover.”

  Tara sat next to him on the bed silently. After a moment, he felt her move toward him. Sam wasn’t sure what she was doing until he felt her lips on his.

  After a second, she said, “I’m going to keep trying to find a way to help.”

  “I know.”

  “You will recover.”

  Sam smiled. This time it wasn’t forced. “I know.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “For you to heal me? I thought we agreed I had as much as I could tolerate today.”

  “For the rest. The exploration. Maybe you’re right and that getting you out of the room will do you good.”

  “In a moment,” he said.

  “What do you need to do before we go?”

  “Let’s try what you just did once more. I think it was helping.”

  “Oh, really.”

  “I started seeing something when you did.”

  She laughed softly and leaned toward him again. When she did, he was ready this time and kissed her back. A tingling washed over him. At first, he thought it came from her kiss, but then he started to wonder if it could be from something else. He tried to ignore it, but the tingling persisted in his hands and became more painful. Eventually, he pulled back and raised his hand, rubbing at it. The vrandal didn’t move, but he thought it might.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Sam shook his hand, trying to work feeling back into it. “Probably nothing.”

  “Probably, which means it might be something.”

  “It’s just my hand…”

  She pressed her hand to his. Warmth washed out from her, flowing through him and leaving him with a sense of the energy coming off of her. “Is that better?”

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t. Not really. Instead, he forced a smile. “I think so. Why don’t we go explore? I found an access point near us, and I thought that maybe you could use that to wander the halls a little bit. What do you think about that?”

  As she took his hands and helped him to his feet, he tried to ignore the tingling sensation in his hand. It remained there, stronger than before, and there was a hint of pain within it. He tried to ignore the pain, but he worried it meant that not only was the blindness going to persist, but the bond with the vrandal would fail.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The hallway echoed with the sound of his footsteps. Sam tried to focus on them, thinking about the steady thud his feet made with every step. There also came a soft whisper of wind with each step, a gust he wouldn’
t have been aware of were it not for his need to focus on everything near him.

  Other than him, the hall was empty. Tara had worked with him the last few days on navigating through the Study Hall. Sam had gotten better at exploring. There wouldn’t be anyone to watch as he stumbled, which made him more comfortable. There also wouldn’t be anyone to help if he were to get hurt, which was something he’d have to be careful with. If he slipped down any stairs—and within the hidden halls, some of them could be incredibly steep—he’d be alone. He kept his hands out, running them along the wall.

  Now that he’d been blinded, he was better able to navigate quietly. Any sound was amplified in his ears. He could hear the breath of the Academy, the same gentle whisper of air he detected in his room. It wasn’t nearly as strong as it was in other places, though that might be because of the grates providing ventilation along the hall. There wouldn’t be any place for the breath to get bottled up as it had other places.

  The hall led along the main part of the Academy. Sam had wanted to get out of the lower levels, up from the Alchemy section, if only to find out if there was anything more he might be able to hear. He found himself searching along a familiar corridor and realized he was heading toward the Grandam’s office. That wasn’t where he wanted to go.

  He wasn’t necessarily avoiding the Grandam—at least he didn’t think he was. If he came across her again, he suspected he’d have to come to terms with whatever felt right for him to do, whether that was allowing her to heal him or admitting he wanted to keep the vrandal.

  When he reached a section in the Study Hall that he knew to turn around, he tripped. He stumbled forward, and his hand fell toward what he knew to be a wall… and then he fell through it.

  Sam froze.

  He had reached out with the hand that had the vrandal.

  And he had pushed through something.

  Not a wall. He wouldn’t have been able to do that.

  Which meant there was some alchemy barrier in here.

  If only he could see.

  He got to his feet, pressing up against it, and he felt the solid barrier that was there.