Alchemist (7 page)

Lyle shrugged. “I
don’t know. As far as I’m aware he wouldn’t be. But that said your
father would likely take such a move against one of his own family
personally.”

“But war Lyle?
Really? We’ve been at peace with the Southlands for centuries.”

“I don’t know, I
really don’t.” He admitted, at a loss.

Terry folded her
arms and leant back against the counter. “When did this happen
apparently?”

“Three weeks
ago.”

Terry shook her
head. “It can’t be true.”

Lyle gazed at her
in open question. “What makes you so sure?”

“If my cousin had
been killed, someone would have came and told us ages ago.”

“Terry,” he said
gently, “Your father does not possess any means of travelling to
this world. He would not have been able to get a message to
us.”

She shook her
head, refusing to believe. “He would have found a way. There are
still portal machines out there Lyle. What’s happened this week has
proved that there are.”

He sighed. “I know
that Terry but just because other people have them does not mean
that your father has one.”

She shrugged
defiantly. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t believe her. It doesn’t make
any sense.”

Lyle nodded but
she could tell that he was deeply unsure. “I don’t either but it is
not a chance we can afford to take. It would be a huge coincidence
that this has happened now when there have been attempts on your
life.”

She stared at him
incredulously. “What are you saying? You think someone in the
Southlands has sent assassins to kill me because the King has
declared war on their country?”

“I’m not saying
anything Terry but we need to know.” He said, walking over to where
she stood. He sighed. “But if it is a lie, why would Faye say
it?”

“Why wouldn’t she?
She tried to kill us, she tried to kill her ex-boyfriend and
nothing she seems to have said or done since we bought her here has
made any sense.” She twiddled a finger next to her head. “She’s
lost it.”

Lyle raised a hand
in supplication. “I know she seems a little preoccupied, but she
has not done anything to prove me that she is untrustworthy. I
think she was after Darius, not you.”

Terry shook her
head. “I don’t think so. You saw the way she was looking at us
yesterday when I was talking to her in the cell.”

“She told me ten
minutes ago. She swears it.”

Terry stared at
him. “And do you believe her? Would you let her out of that
cell?”

Her uncle
hesitated and Terry had her answer.

“See.” She walked
passed him. “I need to talk to her.”

Lyle followed at a
short distance behind. “As you wish.” He muttered.

******

Faye was sitting
with her back toward the wall, meditating in her true form. The
water she had used to cause a storm within the four walls the night
before had all but vanished. What remained was an overturned,
sodden pillow and mattress, strewn across the metal floor.

“Faye!” Terry
shouted, banging her fist against the glass.

The water
elemental winced at the sudden noise. Opening her eyes, she
glowered at Terry, angry at the interruption. “Alchemist...” she
muttered flatly. She saw Lyle too, though he hung back at a
distance.

“
We need to
talk.”

“Soon,” she
replied, closing her eyes once more. She turned her head back round
so it was facing forward. “I am still meditating.”

This time Terry
dragged metal clad fingers across the glass; causing it to
screech.

Faye snapped out
of her meditation and covered her ears until Terry stopped. She
glared at the youngster.

“Not later.”
Terry said, lowering her arm. “
Now
.”

Faye inclined her
head but did not make a move to speak to the Alchemist
person-to-person. “Has what I told your uncle upset you?” she
asked.

“No, because I
don’t believe you and I want to know why you have been lying about
everything since you arrived.”

She smirked. “Have
you asked Darius about what I said?”

“No.”

“Why not? I
thought it would be the first thing he would have told you when he
came here, considering who you are Terrifallo.”

Terry stood her
ground. “I’ll be talking to him soon enough.”

That self-assured
smirk, the one Terry had seen moments earlier and the night before
played across Faye’s lips again. “And no doubt he will tell you
something completely different. Tell me, would you really believe
what he has to say?”

“Probably not but
then again I have no reason to trust either of you right now.”

Defiant eyes
lifted up to her. “Well that is your problem, not mine.”

Terry held her
gaze. “What happened to you?”

Faye stood and
strode elegantly toward the glass that separated prisoner and
captor. “The world has changed and so have I.” She looked Terry up
and down, an unsettling look. “As have you.”

“I’ve grown up
over the last ten years while you’ve lost your mind.”

“No. I have
also grown up.” She spat defiantly. Turning away, she began to pace
the length of the glass. “For years I was sympathetic to mankind
but all they keep doing is destroying the planet. They are
poisoning the world’s oceans despite their constant promises to
change their ways. They
must
be stopped!”

“And you really
think you can kill them all by yourself?”

Faye turned to
face the Alchemist, her eyes burning brightly. “That day I left.
The day I diffused into the sea. I became one with it and I learned
how to control it.”

Terry slowly shook
her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you
want, I have the power.” She boasted, raising her chin in an air of
authority.

Terry squinted at
her dubiously. “So you’re on a crusade to destroy the world?”

“No, my
dear, I’m here to save the world from
them
.”

Terry shook her
head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You can’t stop
me.”

“You’re stuck
inside a cell half a mile underground and no one knows that you are
here. As far as I’m concerned you’re in no position to be making
threats.”

Faye simply
smirked at her before turning away.

“Why did you tell
Lyle that my father had declared war on the south?” Terry called
after her.

“Because it’s
true.” She replied, not looking back at her once as she made her
way to the rear of the cell.

Terry shook her
head again. “You know what I think. I think you came here to tell
us all this nonsense so that we would go home, where we would find
out that it was a lie.”

“And why would I
do that?” she called back.

“So that there
would be no-one here to stop you doing what you really came here to
do.”

“Believe what you
will Alchemist but everything I have told you is true.” That said
Faye sat down and resumed her meditation.

Terry turned away
from the glass. She exchanged glanced with her uncle as they both
departed but neither said a word.

******

Water dripped down
every rock face and pooled in every crevice. Deep underground, the
air was cold and damp, like any other mineshaft on the planet. But
unlike any other on the world, this one harboured a very precious
commodity.

The gears and
pulleys on the elevator crunched to a halt as it reached the bottom
of the shaft. Rufus was the first out, sliding back the metal grate
and stepping to one side to let his guest take the lead.

“Thank you.” Mr
Crombie said politely as he stepped passed. He gazed around the
tunnel ahead of him. It ran off into the distance, was well lit,
and otherwise unremarkable.

“This way please.”
Rufus said, gesturing for his guest to follow. They were flanked by
two of the miners.

After a
short walk they arrived at a large, underground laboratory. The
rock had been carved out to suit the needs of the operation that
they were undertaking down here.
Time
consuming and costly
, Mr Crombie idly thought. Not
like it mattered to him though, if Mr Trotsky’s claims of this new,
precious metal were accurate.

If it was rare as
Rufus claimed it was and as flexible, it would be worth more than
any even platinum.

“This is it.”
Rufus said, walking over to a tank. In it sat an oblong, uneven,
dull coppered block of metal. One of the laboratory staff handed it
carefully through robotic arms inside the tank.

“Is it
radioactive?” Mr Crombie asked, concerned by the sight of the
thick, reinforced glass.

Rufus shook his
head. “No, not at all but I would not recommend holding it.”

Mr Crombie shot
him a deeply concerned look. “What do you mean?”

Rufus considered
his next words carefully. “Mr Crombie, the reason why this metal is
so flexible and could be used in other materials is because it is
in a sense alive.”

Mr Crombie stared
at him incredulously. “Do not treat me like a fool Mr Trotsky. Say
what you mean.”

Rufus shook his
head. “I do not treat you as a fool sir, what I am telling you, is
true. But I wanted you to see it rather than explain it in my
office.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise
you would never have believed me.” He gestured to the lab assistant
who nodded. Controlling the robotic arms, she opened up a small
hatch to another cubicle inside the tank. “Watch.” said Rufus,
leaning closer. A white mouse scurried out of the box and into the
central tank.

Mr Crombie watched
on with great interest. The mouse did a semi-circle around the tank
and then stopped, sitting and twitching its little face
indifferently. Mr Crombie sighed impatiently and was about to speak
when the lump of metal went for the mouse. He jerked back in fright
as the mouse struggled underneath the metal – which had now become
a moving blob. It screeched as it was smothered. The mouse briefly
vanished from sight, before the metal seemed to disappear inside
it. Within moment the metal had vanished and the mouse sat up,
twitching nervously.

Mr Crombie turned
to Rufus, his mouth hanging open. “What the hell just happened?” he
asked, forgetting his decorum.

“Watch, we’re not
finished yet.”

Mr Crombie looked
back at the tank. The mouse began to shake violently, its skin
beginning to crawl. It shrieked then burst. From its blood-stained
carcass emerged a tiny, dull grey creature with spindly legs. It
looked roughly spider shaped, but metallic. It scuttled off into
the centre of the tank, raising a quizzical antennae – then it
attacked the glass.

Mr Crombie
flinched as rows upon rows of serrated teeth smashed against the
glass. The tiny creature recoiled, shrieking and charging
again.

Rufus nodded to
the assistant, who flipped a switch. A large flash of light and the
creature was vaporised.

“What on Earth was
that?” demanded his business partner, clearly frightened.

“A crude
demonstration of what can happen if this metal is not handled
properly. However, it acts completely differently when it is
introduced to inanimate objects. In the case of other metals or
fabrics, say wood, it strengthens then and remains entirely
inanimate.”

“You’re positive
about this?”

“Yes, we have been
testing it on bullet proof vests for the last year. Some of my
staff are over there handing them.” He pointed.

Mr Crombie looked.
True to his word, the workers were handling the armour with bare
hands. He could tell they were made of the same freakish element
because it boasted the same shade of dark coppery brown.

“I think you are
investing in the wrong area Mr Trotsky.” Mr Crombie said, turning
back to the taller man.

“How so?” Rufus
asked, curious.

Mr Crombie looked
to him, a greedy glint in his eye, “You should not be making armour
and other strengthened materials. You should be building
weapons.”

******

The homeless man
jumped back in fright. He had been sitting quietly in a back
street, nestled between his trolley and some bins, drinking his
whiskey and minding his own business when a body fell from the sky
a short distance away. He leant forward, gazing at the body and
then at the sky. He couldn’t see anyone on the buildings
overlooking the street. Picking up the two bin bags closest to him,
he shuffled over to the naked corpse. Squinting, he realised it was
a young man. Knowing better than to hang around for when the police
showed up, he took off along the alleyway. He did not want to be
blamed for someone else’s murder, nor did he want to be involved.
As his footfalls retreated, a shadow descended from the sky. It was
large and dark, almost impossible to see against the night.
Landing, it rolled itself up, resolving into the figure of a man.
He crouched down next to the corpse, he the living reflection of
the man who lay dead in the street. He smirked at his handy work.
He had managed to steal the life force of this victim without
leaving any marks of scars. “Thanks.” He whispered, before turning
away and heading off into the dark.

“Can I help you?”
asked one of the two men standing at the door. He was heavily set,
bald and built like a bulldog. His friend, just as large but just
that little bit shorter looked as if he would snap Edward within a
seconds notice.

Edward
raised a hand. Both men stiffened, their arms falling to their
sides. They groaned as their eyes turned black and they lost all
control. “It is
me
.” He nearly
spat in impatience. Giving a sharp wave of the hand, he freed them
from his grasp.

One of the men
stumbled as he landed heavily on his feet, coughing for breath. His
mate was also gasping heavily, hand pressed against his neck as if
he had just been released from a very tight noose. “Sir...sorry...”
he gasped. Stepping back, he gave a half-hearted gesture for the
man to enter. He was to out of breath to pay due reverence. Edward
stormed past them without further word.