Read The Alchemists Academy: Stones to Ashes Book 1 Online
Authors: Kailin Gow
Tags: #Europe, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #Magic, #Action & Adventure, #Fantasy Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #Teenagers, #General, #Schools, #People & Places, #Arthurian
The Alchemists Academy: Stones to Ashes Book 1 (10 page)
“But what about the chalice?” Wirt asked. He couldn’t believe that people would just give up like this. He couldn’t believe that Ms. Lake would give up, when just the mention of it sent a ripple of movement across her watery home.
“It seems that we must simply write off any chance of its recovery. It is…unfortunate, but what else can we do?”
“You could search Ms. Preville’s things,” Wirt suggested. “She has the chalice. We’re sure of it.”
Alana nodded. “We found an essay of hers about how great the witch Ervana was, and we went to the stone garden where she’s trapped, and the chalice is the only thing that can…”
“You went to the garden?” Ms. Lake repeated. Why, Wirt wondered, did adults always pick up on the bits of conversations that you didn’t want them to? “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”
“We’re fine,” Wirt said. “Nothing happened out there.”
“Ms. Preville has a good reason to want the chalice,” Spencer said, “and someone has been to the island, because we saw their footprints. It has to be her, Ms. Lake.”
Ms. Lake shook her head. “Enough, all of you. That’s enough. Maybe Ender was right about this, if it’s going to put you in danger.”
“But Ms. Lake-” Wirt began.
“No. I don’t want to hear it. You have some interesting speculation, but that is all it is. There is nothing to prove that Aloea Preville is the one who stole the chalice, and I forbid you to go looking for anything more. This Quest is over. If it matters to you, I’m going to give you all good marks for your efforts in it.”
“But-”
“Not another word, Wirt.” Ms. Lake said it calmly enough, but the storm clouds gathering over her lake were warning enough. “I know that you are upset, but there are limits. This really is for your own good. Now, back to your rooms. I’ll see you in class.”
Wirt knew when he was beaten. Or at least, when to give the impression of it.
“Yes, Ms. Lake.”
They headed back to their rooms, and the rest of the day passed Wirt by in a blur. Spencer hardly said anything about what had happened, preferring to throw himself into the reading and note-taking for his extra work. Even Wirt, with less to do, did everything he could to keep busy, mostly because, if he didn’t, he suspected that he might do something stupid.
Things continued uncomfortably until breakfast the next day, where Wirt found that he had somehow earned a bowl of lumpy porridge. Spencer had the same. It matched their sullen moods. Even Alana, when she joined them, was not especially upbeat. Finally, Wirt knew that he had to say something.
“I can’t believe that they just stopped us like that.”
“
I
can’t believe that Ms. Lake wouldn’t listen,” Alana said. That produced another burst of silence, though it was quickly broken by the arrival of Priscilla. She actually seemed happy, practically skipping to the table in a way that made Wirt almost wish she wouldn’t join them for once.
“Guess what I heard,” she said.
“What?” Wirt demanded.
“No, you have to guess.”
“I don’t know. You got trapped at the top of a tower and had to climb down using someone’s hair?”
Priscilla looked thoughtful. “You know, that actually did happen once…”
“Priscilla,” Alana said, “perhaps you could just tell us the good news?”
“The school isn’t in financial trouble any more. Well, not for a while, anyway. They got a large grant just yesterday, enough to keep things running with no problems.”
“And that’s the news, is it?” Wirt asked. “The school has money?”
Spencer seemed a little more impressed.
“Priscilla, do you know where the grant was from?”
“Oh yes,” the princess said. “That’s easy. The money is from Ms. Preville.”
Wirt looked to the others, and found them looking back with the expressions of people who knew, just knew, that they were almost certainly going to get into trouble for everything that came next.
Chapter 14
T
he plan they formed was essentially the one Spencer had jokingly proposed earlier. They would keep an eye on Ms. Preville as best they could and wait for her to make a mistake. They made some adaptations to it though. Clearly, it was impossible to simply follow her. Wirt, Alana and Spencer all had lessons, while even between them, the moment the teacher stepped into a transport tube or used a transportation spell, it was impossible to tell where she would end up.
The best they could do was to set Priscilla’s mirror to keep a constant eye on the patch of beach outside Llew’s cave, with instructions to warn one of them should anyone show up. Priscilla was not entirely happy about her mirror being used like that, but Alana promised that she would help the other girl pick out clothes and things, and that seemed to be good enough.
For days there was nothing from the mirror. Wirt blurt to Spencer the next day, “Nothing from that darn mirror. You would think the mirror at least seen something by now.” Spencer laughed.
“Mirrors don’t work like that. They can be awkward, and touchy, and idiotically useless sometimes, but they can’t just disobey. Maybe later, we can go over to Alana’s room and check, if you… hang on.”
They were interrupted by the crystal ball on Spencer’s desk, which was currently flashing through all the colors of the rainbow while letting out the tinkling sound of fairy bells. Wirt took it to be roughly the equivalent of someone’s mobile phone ringing, though in that case, he had to wonder exactly what Spencer was doing with his ring tone.
Spencer touched the glass globe, and the colors settled, revealing the image of a neat-looking man in his twenties, who nodded as Spencer looked on.
“Hold for one moment please, I will just put you through to Mr. Bentley.” This time, the crystal ball played something bland with a harp in it, and Wirt guessed that it was probably the off-world equivalent of elevator music.
It was a full minute before the sight of the young man was replaced by an older one, who looked to be in his fifties. He had Spencer’s blond hair, though it was starting to fade to white in places, along with the same piecing blue eyes. His looks were more rugged, but Wirt could tell at a glance that this was Spencer’s father. Not least because Spencer suddenly looked nervous.
“Hello, Spencer,” the joviality in the tone seemed forced to Wirt, but he didn’t say anything. “I trust you have been studying hard, my boy?”
“Yes Father.”
“Good, good. Now, who is this?” Those blue eyes turned to Wirt.
“That is Wirt, Father. He is my roommate.”
“A roommate?” Some of the friendliness leeched out of the tone. Quite a lot of it, in fact. “I spend a fortune sending my boy to a highly exclusive school, and he has to share his room?”
“Even Priscilla has to share with Alana, Father,” Spencer said, “and she is a princess.”
“Well, yes,” Spencer’s father seemed to be mollified a little by that. “I suppose that is acceptable then. Now listen, Spencer, it turns out that I have some free time today, and I was wondering if you might like to pop over to the office.”
Wirt could see the delight on his friend’s face, even so it was mixed with nervousness. Spencer bit his lip. “What about my lessons, Father?”
“Oh, I’m sure they can do without you for one day.”
“The chalice,” Wirt whispered to Spencer.
“Um… there is actually… something I was meant to be doing,” Spencer said. His father glowered at Wirt. Wirt had been glowered at before though, so it didn’t make a great deal of difference to him.
“Yes,” Mr. Bentley said, “I have heard about some of the things they have had you doing at that school. I must say that I am not impressed. There are some things that you shouldn’t get involved in, Spencer, no matter how much some people,” another glance Wirt’s way, “might want to encourage you.”
“That’s not…” Spencer began, but his father just talked over him.
“I will expect you to be ready outside the school in ten minutes, Spencer. We can talk more when you get here. We
will
talk more when you get here.”
The crystal ball went blank.
“Well,” Spencer said, “that’s that.”
“What’s what?” Wirt asked, not understanding. Spencer actually
did
everything he was told?
“Oh, it’s all right for you, isn’t it?” Spencer said. “You don’t have to worry about what your parents think of…” he tailed off, as though realizing what he had just said. “I’m sorry.”
Wirt ignored him. It was only the apology that stopped Wirt from hitting him.
“Look,” Spencer said, “you don’t know what he’s like. I can’t just disobey him. I… I’ve got to go now. I don’t want to be late. We’ll talk later.”
“Whatever,” Wirt said. Spencer left without another word. The next hour or so was an angry one. Short of something to do, Wirt stomped down to lunch, went to his next alchemy class, where he blew up almost as much as Mr. Fowler did, and even managed to get himself thrown out of the library for gesturing too much. He stalked outside, where he spotted Alana sitting on one of the tree’s roots, reading.
Just the sight of her made him feel a little calmer. He headed over, and took the spot next to her on the root.
“Hi, Wirt. Is Spencer not with you today?”
“We aren’t joined at the hip.”
Alana raised an eyebrow. “What’s up with you?”
“Nothing.” Wirt sat silently for a moment, but it seemed that Alana was at least as good at waiting as he was. Wirt sighed. “Spencer just made some stupid comment about my parents, and I…”
“Overreacted?” Alana guessed.
Wirt nodded. “It’s not like I ever really knew them, but Spencer… he doesn’t know how lucky he is.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Alana said. “Mr. Bentley isn’t exactly the best dad in the world. He works constantly, he’s only interested in money, and Spencer sees him maybe a couple of times a year if he’s lucky.”
“But Spencer still wants to impress him,” Wirt said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Doesn’t it?” Alana asked. “I suppose Spencer thinks that if he’s good enough,
useful
enough, his dad will have more time for him. As it is, he probably sees more of my parents than his.”
“You two must be pretty close,” Wirt said. Alana shrugged.
“I suppose so. I grew up with him, remember. He would sneak out of whatever he was supposed to be doing and hang around with me, following my mom around as she worked. When you’ve been around someone that long, things just get… comfortable.”
Wirt hadn’t thought of it like that.
“It must be hard, being stranded here,” Alana said.
Wirt shut his eyes. “I don’t really think about it.”
“Liar.”
Wirt was not sure that he would have let anyone else say that to him.
“Ok, so I think about it, but I just bounced around from foster home to foster home. It is not like any of the places I stayed was really mine. I have always been alone. Why should this be any different?”
Wirt was surprised to feel Alana’s hand slipping into his. “How about,” she said, “because here, you don’t have to be? You have friends here, Wirt. You’ve got…me.”
Wirt opened his eyes, studying Alana’s face carefully, did she mean it? Could he risk it? Somehow, it just felt natural to lean closer to her, and closer, until finally their lips met. For the briefest of instants Alana didn’t respond, and Wirt found himself terrified, but then she kissed him back. It went on for a while.
Exactly why they stopped, Wirt could not say. Maybe they both realized in the same instant exactly how difficult it could make things. Maybe it was simply that there was only so long you could kiss someone who, until just moments ago, had been simply a friend. Wirt felt as though he had woken up from a nice dream in that moment, only to notice exactly whom he was kissing. He pulled back sharply enough that he nearly fell off the tree root.
Alana moved back a little too, carefully disentangling her fingers from Wirt’s. “That was very…”
Nice? Amazing? Perfect? Wirt ran through the possibilities silently.
“…unexpected. And also awkward.”
That was true too. The actual moment of kissing Alana had been everything he might have hoped, had Wirt considered it before, but now… yes, awkward was about the best word for it. Wirt struggled for something to say.
“So, what now?”
Alana shook her head. “I don’t know, Wirt. When I said you had me, that was not what I meant. At least, I think it was not.”
Wirt winced inwardly. Had he really gotten things that wrong? He started to pull back, but Alana’s hand found his again.
“Please don’t run off, Wirt. It was just… it was not wrong, I’m just not sure…”
Wirt kind of understood what Alana was saying, which he suspected was more than she did with her last sentence. He knew that there was really only one thing to do now.
“So, where’s Priscilla?”
Alana’s eyes narrowed. “We just kissed, and you’re asking after my pretty roommate?”
Oh. Wirt hadn’t thought of it like that. “I’m changing the subject,” he said. “I thought it would be less awkward.” He thought for a moment. “I was probably wrong.”
“No, I… I left Priscilla trying on dresses in our room, so that she could keep an eye on the mirror. I’m kind of hoping that she’ll get the hang of making occasional decisions for herself, and in any case, I don’t want her too deeply involved in looking for the chalice.”
“Spencer’s father didn’t want him involved either,” Wirt said, grateful for something else to talk about, even though the awkwardness still lurked just under the surface like a shark, or at least like a particularly aggressive duck. “Nobody seems to want us to be.”
“Are you saying that we should stop?” Alana asked.
Wirt shook his head. “We can’t just let Ms. Preville summon up some sorceress who will probably want to kill everyone. We have to get that cup back from her, even if no one else wants us to look.”
“I’m glad you said that, Wirt,” Alana said, “because I just happen to have an idea that might let us find it without getting into trouble.”
Chapter 15
“
I
really don’t think this is a good idea,” Wirt said to Ms. Preville. Or at least, to the image of her that Alana was currently projecting as an illusion. Wirt had to admit though that it was a good illusion. He couldn’t tell the difference between it and the real thing. Thanks to another spell, Alana even sounded like the teacher as she answered.
“It’s our best chance of finding something out, Wirt, and I’m better at glamours than you are.”
“But what happens if someone sees through it? Glamours aren’t perfect.”
Alana snorted. “Would you rather I turned myself into a frog, and sneaked in that way? Wirt, there is nothing to worry about. Either I’ll get away with it, in which case everything is fine, or someone will see through it, in which case I’ll claim that I was only getting some extra glamour practice in. Ms. Preville did say that she wanted to see more of herself around. Even if she walks into her own office, I’ll just say that I thought this glamour was especially good, and I wanted to show it to her.”
It sounded like Alana had every base covered. Even so, Wirt followed along behind her as Alana made her way up to a hall where a large oak door had “Ms. Preville” on a brass plaque. Small plinths stood around it, and on it, illusions swirled in imitations of statues, vases, and in one case, a small galaxy.
“Wait out here,” Alana said. “One of us should keep watch.”
She whispered something close to the door, and it clicked open. Wirt raised an eyebrow at that.
“I wanted an easier way of getting Priscilla out of towers,” Alana explained. “You know she’s only going to get stuck in more of them.”
With that, she stepped into the room. Wirt tucked himself in behind one of the plinths, deciding that it would be better if he were not seen while he kept an eye out. He hoped Alana would have better luck with her search than Wirt had managed with his. He also hoped that it would not take too long, because the more time that passed, the more chance there was of something going wrong. Besides, it was not exactly comfortable, crouching behind a lump of stone with a gently revolving illusion on top.
How long he stayed like that, Wirt did not know, although the ache in his legs suggested that it was a while. He only knew that, after however long it was, there came the whoosh of someone exiting the transportation tube up to this hallway, followed by the clicking of someone walking along it. Wirt peered out around the corner of his plinth, and saw one person approaching whom Wirt had not expected: Urlando Roth.
It occurred to Wirt in that moment that he had not established with Alana exactly how he was supposed to warn her if someone showed up. He could not shout, because Mr. Roth would hear. He could not run into the room, because then he would be spotted. In fact, there was really only one thing he could do…
With a deep breath, Wirt stepped into the middle of the hallway, placing himself in Urlando Roth’s path just in time for the teacher to fall over him.
“What the… oof!”
“Oh, I’m sorry sir,” Wirt said, as loudly as he dared in the hope that Alana would hear it. “Here, let me help you up.”
Actually, he made his efforts sufficiently un-helpful that they both stumbled at least once more before making it to their feet.
“Why don’t you watch where you”re going?” Urlando Roth demanded. Wirt bit back the urge to say something he would regret.
“I’m very sorry, sir,” he said instead, still aiming for volume. Hadn’t Alana heard him yet? Wirt struggled for a suitable distraction. “Um… you’re Mr. Roth, aren’t you? I’ve been thinking of taking your class on magical accountancy.”
“That’s nice,” the teacher said. “So few people seem to see its value these days, in a world of flashy evocations and conjurations.”
Presumably, Wirt thought, because blowing things up with magic and summoning things from thin air was slightly more impressive than messing around with numbers. He didn’t say that though. Instead, he struggled to think back to the essays on Mr. Roth’s desk.
“I have been wondering, sir, what kind of predictive system would you use for a small business? My friend Spencer says it should still be numerology, but I think that maybe that might be a bit too involved for something that small scale.”
Mr. Roth’s face lit up at the sound of a student with an apparent interest in his favorite subject.
“Well, obviously many people would raise that as a concern. I feel though, that several of the systems based around Babylonian base twelve counting methods are sufficiently straightforward for smaller applications, and they provide significantly better results than more popular methods of divination such as…”
Mr. Roth paused.
“Such as?” Wirt prompted. It did not help. The teacher looked suddenly thoughtful.
“A question occurs to me, boy. Just what were you doing up here, outside Ms. Preville’s office, when there is no reason for you to be? If I am not very much mistaken, you were hiding behind a plinth when I arrived.”
“Oh. I was just… that is…” Wirt tried to think of any reasonable explanation for why he might have been there. “Admiring the art?”
“Well yes, it is rather good, isn’t it? Aloea does it herself you…” Mr. Roth looked thoughtful again. “No. I see what is going on here. I see
exactly
what is going on here.”
Wirt braced himself for the worst. Any moment, Mr. Roth would throw open the door to Ms. Preville’s room, see Alana searching, and it would all be over. They would be lucky if the school just expelled them for something like this. Alana would be so upset…
“I know what it can be like, boy, seeing such a beautiful woman as Ms. Preville every day. Such a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman. I saw you looking at her when the school management committee met. It is only natural, I suppose, that you would develop a crush on her.”
“A crush?” Wirt asked, scarcely able to believe it. Mr. Roth raised a hand.
“Oh, I know it does not feel like that right now, young man. You probably fancy yourself to be in love. But I assure you that this is not real. Take it from someone who knows what true love feels like - that the gap between the two is infinitely wide.”
Wirt considered his options. What he wanted to do was laugh, but he suspected it would not be a very good idea. Urlando Roth had just given him a perfect excuse for being there, and the best thing to do was probably to simply nod, so he did.
“I guess… I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am. Now, you cannot just go around lurking near people’s rooms, no matter how you think you feel. I hope you understand that young…”
“Wirt, sir. And I do.”
“Good. Why, just the other day, someone attempted to steal into my office unannounced. Thankfully, my alarm spell seems to have scared them off, but you can imagine how disconcerting it was.”
Probably about as uncomfortable as hearing about it when you were the one who had done it, Wirt guessed. Roth waved an arm in the direction of the transport hole.
“Now, run along, Wirt, and do not let me catch you here again. It would be a shame to have to give detention to somebody with such a refreshing interest in magical accountancy.”
Wirt took that as his cue to leave. There was not anything else he could do to warn Alana, so he just had to hope that she had heard everything. He set off towards the tube, stopping only when he heard the sound of a door opening behind him. Alana emerged, still in her Ms. Preville disguise, and Wirt was shocked to see Mr. Roth sweep her into his arms and kiss her. At least, he kissed a point above Alana’s head, where the illusion’s lips were, Ms. Preville being rather taller than she was.
“Oh, Aloea, I have missed you. I have something wonderful to… Aloea, are you all right? You feel rather odd.”
“I am fine, Urlando,” Alana answered, in her best Ms. Preville voice, “I was just resting a little.”
“That must be it,” Mr. Roth said. “Aloea, I have a surprise for… you. Boy, what are you still doing here?”
Wirt had forgotten for a moment that he was supposed to be leaving.
“Um… I was just going, sir.”
“Wait.” Alana’s voice underneath the illusion was imperious. “You are one of the boys from my classes, aren’t you? One who cannot produce glamours properly.”
Wirt felt that was a little harsh. Okay, so he was not quite as good as Alana, but still…
“Yes, Ms. Preville,” he said meekly. Alana seemed to be enjoying herself.
“Then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off turning things into frogs with Gertrude?”
Urlando Roth put a steadying hand on Alana’s arm. The illusion did not flicker. It just went to show how good Alana was at it.
“Now, Aloea, we should be kind to the boy. I found him lurking out here. It seems he has grown rather… attached to you.”
Alana laughed, apparently unable to help herself, but Wirt felt that she recovered well.
“I suppose he cannot be blamed for that,” she said. “After all, who wouldn’t want to admire me?”
“Who indeed?” Mr. Roth said, his eyes lingering on the illusion of Ms. Preville for a moment. “Perhaps we should send him away now, Aloea, so that we can talk more… privately?”
Wirt froze. He hadn’t considered this possibility. He would be forced to leave, and then Alana would either have to keep playing the part of Ms. Preville with Mr. Roth, or she would have to let the illusion fall and take the consequences of being found out. Neither option sounded like a good one.
Thankfully, Alana seemed to have thought of a third approach.
“No. I will not have boys lurking around my room. He must be taken to the Headmaster for punishment.”
“Really, Aloea?” Mr. Roth did not seem happy about it. “Isn’t that perhaps a little harsh? After all, he has shown a promising interest in numerology.”
“No, Urlando. These things must be nipped in the bud, or who knows where they will lead? I will take the little scamp to the Headmaster myself, and we will see how he likes that.”
“But Aloea, I was hoping…”
The illusion of Ms. Preville put a finger to the other teacher’s lips. “I will not be long, Urlando. Wait for me in my room, make yourself comfortable, and there will soon be time for everything you were hoping.”
That promise spurred Mr. Roth into action, and he practically ran into Ms. Preville’s room.
Alana took hold of Wirt’s arm. “We should hurry,” she said. “I didn’t think that was going to work. I’m just glad Ms. Pretty is taller than I am, or I would have ended up kissing an accountant.” She paused. “Maybe it would have turned him into a toad.”
They ran for the transport tube, Alana letting the illusion fall along the way. They went back to Wirt and Spencer’s room, hardly pausing until they were safely inside.
“So Ms. Preville and Mr. Roth are an item,” Wirt said. “I wonder what she sees in him?”
“Probably about as much as he sees in her,” Alana countered, perching on the edge of Spencer’s bed and giggling. “Honestly, I thought I’d die laughing when you started trying to persuade him that you were really interested in magical accountancy.”
“You and me both,” Wirt said. He took Alana’s hand. “But we got away with it, didn’t we?”
There was an unexpected silence. Alana was looking over Wirt’s shoulder.
“What’s all this?” Wirt turned to find Spencer looking at them. The expression on his face was one of almost pure jealousy.
