Alchemist (8 page)

Inside he found a
young woman sitting alone, modifying a weapon. Seeing him her eyes
widened – she knew who it was despite his recent change in
appearance. “Where have you been?” she demanded as she stood,
abandoning the weapon.

He smirked,
looking around the dank, deserted lair. “Feeding.” He replied
bluntly.

“You have been
gone for three nights!”

His dark eyes
fixed on her. “Do not speak to me like that ever again.” He warned,
“Or you’ll be next.”

Visibly shaken by
the threat, the woman lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, but things have
not been going well here and I had not heard anything from you, I
was starting to get worried...”

“I take it the two
men we hired failed?”

He glanced around
the empty cellar as if it needed an explanation. “I don’t see any
of them here nor do I see the head of Terryfallo or her uncle.” He
said, his gaze returning to meet her.

She looked down
uneasily. “I think them.”

He laughed; a
hideous, humourless sound. “Well of course she did. She is an
Alchemist. They were human.”

The young woman
appeared puzzled. “Then what did you hire them for?”

The man
straightened his collar in reflection of shattered mirror.
“Distraction.”

Confession

A bitter metallic
taste filled Terry’s mouth. She glanced at the stormy sky overhead.
It had rained all morning. She peered up into the grey gloom
overhead as a thick droplet trickle down the bridge of her nose and
off.

Her brown hair was
plastered to her head and her ears were cold. She felt another bead
of water trickle onto her skin, this time down the back of her
neck.

She twisted as a
cold finger traced her exposed flesh. She knew where it was going
and was not looking forward to it. A few more drops before had
found its way under the armour on her neck, running down flesh and
causing it to itch in a place she could not scratch. But despite
her twisting, it still found its way in.

She suddenly
felt something wake; the ancient part of her mind – her real mind;
the one that occupied her body in her true form. It reached for
her, something large and powerful moving through the dark but she
did not fear it. It brushed against her conscious mind, more
emotion than thought. It was restless, angry,
and hungry
.

Closing her eyes
for a few moments she pushed it away; the thoughts, the powerful
emotions, the hunger. Once she opened them again she was alone once
more on the cathedral roof, save the rain and the cold.

Terry glanced down
at the twilight cathedral. The grounds surrounding the Italian
architectural masterpiece were almost completely deserted due to
the early hour and the elements.

A pigeon landed
next to where Terry perched. She gave the bird a sidelong glance as
it bobbed its head indifferently to her deadly presence. She
sighed. “Yes Lyle, what a great idea. Of course he’ll show up.” She
mumbled to herself, repeating what her uncle had said a few hours
earlier. But he hadn’t. She felt as gloomy as the weather.

But as if fate had
someone heard her she suddenly spotted who she was looking for. She
squinted at him at first, unsure if it was him or not as he entered
the courtyard from afar; no large than the size of an ant against
the vast grey flagstones of the Cathedral grounds. But as he drew a
little closer, running through the rain, she was certain.

Standing, she
sprinted across the cathedral roof on sure, soundless feet. The
pigeon leapt into the air, vanishing on a few quick flaps of
startled wings. In that time Terry had disappeared.

The young man
entered the confession booth. Taking a seat, he quickly did a cross
sign and then spoke in Italian, his voice desperate, “Sorry father,
it has been a long time since my last confession.”

“It is alright my
son, what do you wish to share today?”

The man drew a
deep breath, to steady his frayed nerves. “It is difficult to
explain father...I have a terrible obsession...an addiction
maybe...to help those who do terrible things...” he shook his head,
“I never take part in such crimes nor have the inclination to do so
but the pay...I have become addicted to money father.”

“Are you telling
me that you are the one who’s been ripping all these holes between
the two worlds?” asked a different voice.

Startled, he tried
to bolt, but he was grabbed by a metal gloved hand that punched
through the wooden partition.

Two priests
walking passed the confession box stopped and glanced as the booth
suddenly rocked. They exchanged a puzzled glance before carrying on
their way without word.

Inside the box,
the man choked, flailing at the furniture around him. His hands
ignited in flame. But he froze when a blade slid half-way out of
Terry’s wrist, the point pressing against the underside of his
throat. “Don’t you dare.” She warned in a low voice.

He let his hands
go out. “What do you want?” he croaked.

“I want to know
why the walls between worlds have been ripped open so often
lately.” She whispered, letting the point of the blade bite into
his skin ever so slightly.

“Okay, okay!” he
begged.

The blade
retracted into Terry’s arm and she carefully let him go, wary that
he might attempt to make another dash for it but when he sat down
she realised there was no danger.

“I take it you
have been watching me then?” He asked, touching his neck. It ached
from where she had grabbed him.

“No but you’re the
only one we’ve heard of that has a temporal device so I thought I’d
come and speak to you. I take it you are behind them then?”

“Yeah, it was me.”
He admitted, seeing no point in lying. There was nothing to gain
from it. “I’ve opened a few in the last couple of months...but
nothing near where you live. You are still in Scotland right?”

Terry didn’t
answer. Instead she asked, “And why have you been opening
portals?”

“For money...it’s
getting harder and harder to get by these days. Not all of us were
given so much wealth when we were exiled here you know.” He said,
bitterly.

Terry ignored the
comment. “From who exactly?” she asked quickly, more interested in
why he had been ripping open the wall between realms.

“Everyone...a lot
of them are refugees, others are escaped convicts looking for
somewhere to run.”

“Refugees and
escaped convicts don’t exactly have much cash and I seriously doubt
you’d be charging them so little for such a service. Who else have
you let through who has the money?” She asked, peering at him
suspiciously through the grate. She balled her metal hand, as if to
hit him.

“Alright!
Alright!” he shouted, waving his hands about in surrender. “Most of
them were members of the same family and people who worked for
them. Rilario had his lands and property confiscated when the other
ministers in the Southlands learned that he was involved in having
one of the royal family assassinated. He was worried that there
would be reprisals against his family. Most of them were just his
children and servants. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Terry lowered her
fist. “Lord Rilario? Really? Who did he assassinate?” she asked,
surprised. She knew of Lord Rilario, he was a very influential,
well, had been, a very influential politician in the senate of the
Southlands – where the fire and water elementals largely abided.
She had never met the man but she had always heard positive things
about him.

The fire elemental
shook his head. “I don’t know, someone told me the name but I’ve
forgotten it, they were a very minor member of the royal family, a
distant cousin or something to the King. I never even knew they had
existed until I heard about their death.”

“Why would he have
someone killed? I always heard he was a nice man.”

He shook his head
again at a loss. “I don’t know. I’ve never met him, all my business
with him I have done through a middleman.”

Terry leaned
closer to the grate, fixing him with her deadly gaze. “And where do
you meet this middleman?”

“He came here,
once, to Earth. He had portal devices to open rifts to this world.
But he gave them to me and asked to make sure that Rilario’s family
had somewhere to go after they came through, that was part of my
payment. He was one of Rilario’s closest servants. He was being
hunted himself and afraid to stay with them in case he led the
Kindaris right to their door.”

The Kindaris were
the Southlands equivalent to police officers. They were an
honourable, law abiding organisation. They would have come to
arrest Lord Rilario, but not his family or servants unless they
expected foul play. But it was not hard for Terry to imagine that
there would be some, not just among the Kindaris, who would seek
vengeance on the lord’s family for the death of a royal.

Terry thought for
a few moments, taking it all in. “Someone told me that the
Southlands and the Alchemists had gone to war. Is it true?”

The main blinked
at her with wide eyes. “What? Who told you that?”

“Then it’s not
true?”

“No.” He shook his
head. “Why would anyone say that?”

She looked away,
seething. “Nevermind.” Looking back at him she said, “Tell me about
these convicts you’ve let through.”

“No, because
you’ll kill me...” he muttered, suddenly losing his voice. He
stared at her like a rabbit caught in headlights.

“That depends if
we’re talking murderers or shoplifters.” She replied flatly.

“None of them were
killers...except one...” He said, his voice beginning to
quiver.

Terry’s arm darted
through the hole, her fingers closing tightly around his throat.
“Who?” she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

“I didn’t let him
through! I didn’t let him through!” he shouted.

The blade slid up
to his throat again and Terry narrowed her eyes. “You either did or
you didn’t.”

“I didn’t! I
didn’t!” He gasped. “He killed two of my friends and used the
machine himself. He tried to kill me too but I managed to get a
way!”

“Who
?”

“I don’t know! But
it was a Phantom.”

Terry’s eyes
widened with shock.
But all the Phantoms
are gone.
Her eyes narrowed and her anger flared. She
sensed a trick. “Don’t lie to me.” She warned, lowering her voice,
allowing the blade to dig into his flesh once more. “If you lie
again I will kill you.” It was not a lie.

“I’m not...” he
panted, heaving desperately for breath.

“There are no
Phantoms left, they’re all dead.”

“I swear what I’m
telling you is true. Please!”

Terry gritted her
teeth, the rage growing inside her. The ancient part of her mind
had awoken now and it was pissed. Glaring back at him, she asked,
“How long ago was this?”

“Eight days
ago...” he gagged.

Terry let go of
him then but she threw him hard into his seat.

She glared
at him through the grate, eyes ablaze as he gasped for breath. “If
you tell anyone that you saw me I will kill you. If you tell anyone
else what you have told me I’ll kill you and if you open any more
portals, I’ll kill you,
Ladre
.” She warned, calling him by his true name
to drive the point home.

Without further
word she left, slamming the wooden door behind her. Many sins had
been confessed inside its four walls this day but Ladre feared if
such sins would be forgiven by a God that was not his.

******

“That’s
impossible.” Were the first words to come from Connor’s mouth when
Terry broke the news.

“That’s what I
thought but I don’t think Ladre was lying.”

Her uncle furrowed
his brow, sceptical. “I’m not so sure. I don’t think we can trust
the word of a traitor and thieve anymore than we can trust a
stranger and a crazed water elemental.” He observed from where he
sat at the end of the long oaken table. They were in a meeting
room, fashioned from one of the many caves that ran below Lyle’s
mansion.

Terry shook her
head. “I don’t think so he knew I was going to kill him.”

Lyle nodded
grimly. “That is a fair point.” He conceded.

Terry leant
against the table, folding her arms. “If one thing rings true then
it is what he said about this supposed war between our people and
the Southlands. He said it wasn’t true, like Darius.”

Lyle appeared
concerned at this, his face setting into a hard cast. “And one of
my old friends has been proven a liar.” He muttered bitterly.

Terry glanced
across the table at Connor, who had furrowed his brow. “What are
you thinking?” she asked.

He looked up at
her. “That maybe this Phantom is the one who sent those people to
kill you.”

Terry sighed, her
gaze dropping to the table for a moment. “I wouldn’t dismiss it.”
She looked to Lyle for his thoughts.

“I do not
understand why this Phantom would not just come after you if that
was the case. Why send humans when he would have known that they
stood no chance?” The old warrior mused.

“That I can’t
answer.” Connor agreed. “It was just an idea. It all just seems far
too coincidental considering what else has been happening
lately.”

“
There’s
something else about Ladre’s story that doesn’t quite add up.”
Terry said. “It is weird if it is true, why would a man of such
high profile do such a thing?”

“And to what end?”
Lyle agreed, forming a temple with his fingers.

“I think he’s been
framed.” Terry suggested.

Lyle looked at her
thoughtfully. “It is possible but I fear we are speculating too
much. There are a lot of things that we still don’t know.”