The Quest of the Prodigy (The Alchemist of Time Book 1) Read online

  “What are you staring at?” asked Pitts.

  “I was just wondering what rank one must have to have as much food as you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Pitts asked with a hearty laugh. “We all get this much food! I am a Lieutenant, but also the main Conductor of the American REP.”

  “I guess I should’ve eaten before I left. Not thinking straight now.”

  Pitts laughed again, accepting this explanation. “We can grub at the Wise Oak Inn. Miss Kacey serves the best food as well. Sounds like things in Scotland aren’t as well as here in the King’s Court.”

  Donnan frowned. If only he knew. Things in the Queen’s Court were dismal. They had no access to technology, and little food. Sickness was plaguing the land with the approach of winter.

  “It appears things are far worse than I feared, if you have all these perks,” said Donnan.

  Pitts gave a small chuckle as he said, “Good thing you transferred then, friend!”

  This made Donnan smile. If he could get someone from the King’s Court to show him the ways of the land and culture, then the Queen’s mission for him might be easy after all.

  “Yes,” he agreed, “very good thing.”

  THE RIDE wasn’t very long. They rode up a hill alongside the river and Donnan stared at the strange bronze statue shaped like a sphere. Behind it a castle seemed to stretch in the clouds, dark and haunting. A gate and posted guards stood resolute outside. Donnan was thankful to have Pitts with him.

  The man nudged Donnan and pointed to an inn, a modest wooden building with a straw roof and stained glass windows. They dismounted and Donnan offered the copper riding goggles back to Pitts. The man shook his head. “Keep them. In the morning, we will get you your own horse.”

  “Why are you being so nice?” asked Donnan. In the Queen’s Court, people were only nice when they wanted something from you.

  Pitts laughed. “You’re on a mission for the King. I’d appreciate a good word on my performance when you see him. A good word to the King can go a long way. Besides, it looks like you can use a friend. All alone...no one deserves that.”

  Donnan cringed at the truth behind the words. He had practically run away from Scotland twenty years ago to serve the Queen, and quickly risen in the ranks due to his dedication. He hadn’t started a family or kept in touch with anyone back home. He worked hard to make his father proud and had little time to spare for making friends.

  “Right,” he lied. “So, this is the Wise Oak Inn you were raving about, friend?”

  Pitts smiled. “The one and only! If we’re lucky, Miss Kacey will be working here tonight.”

  “Sounds like you fancy her.”

  Pitts laughed again. “No. Not like that, though it’s hard for any man not to fancy her. She is very pretty. But she’s also the best by far. Always making sure you’re okay. The other servers just scoff at you and ask what you want. Big difference!”

  They entered the inn and Donnan’s ears were bombarded by the sounds of spirited conversations, laughter and the clanking and clanging of bottles. Rowdy men in long leather coats with goggles filled most of the bar. Girls in various dress giggled and pointed at a man in fingerless gloves, hunched over a book and wearing a deep frown. It looked like a healthy establishment.

  “That must be Miss Kacey,” said Donnan, nodding to the woman serving pints of beer.

  “Yep! She’s serving the Metal-Hunters now. Let’s take a spot at the bar.”

  “Metal-Hunters?” asked Donnan as he followed Pitts.

  “Yeah. They work for the King, too. Search the land for old metal of the old skyscrapers that used to cover this city. Most of them fell down and the valuable material was buried over time.”

  Donnan nodded. “Sounds like hard work.”

  “It is. They use those goggles over their heads to locate the metal. But the hours are long, or so I hear. They complain about it every night.”

  Kacey returned to the bar and leaned over the wooden oak counter. Her uniform was a long black skirt and a white linen shirt, with the top button purposefully undone.

  “What can I get you boys?” she asked and winked at Pitts. “Hey Pitts, how are you today?”

  Pitts smiled stupidly at her. Donnan wanted to laugh. This woman probably had every man here wrapped around her little finger.

  “Good.” Pitts nodded at Donnan. “Met a new friend. From Scotland! You got room in your inn for him, Kacey?”

  “I think for him, we can make room,” she said with a grin. “You boys drinking, too?’

  Pitts nodded. “Yeah, the usual for me. He needs a hot meal, and a drink, it looks like.”

  Donnan nodded. “Yeah, I’ll have whatever he’s having.”

  “Great. We’ve got a barely beef stew ready, how does that sound?”

  Donnan nodded, and it wasn’t long before their drinks and food was served. He ate with earnest, unable to remember the last time he had a hot meal. Back home the meals were quick, prepared for substance rather than flavor, and never served warm. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he looked around. Always on the defense, the Queen had trained her army well to be aware of their surroundings. The man with the fingerless gloves was watching him.

  “Can I help you?” asked Donnan coldly.

  “You’re not from here,” he said with a scowl. “I heard you were from Scotland.”

  “What about it?” asked Donnan.

  “Nothing. Just doesn’t fit. Scotland is a neutral country. What business do you have in the King’s Court?”

  Donnan glared at his hostile tone. “I think that’s between me and the King.”

  Pitts leaned over, a little off balance from his drink, and shook the other man’s shoulders. “Now Julian, let’s show Donnan here some courtesy, eh?”

  “Why?” asked Julian.

  “Because he’s like us. Working for the King. For. The. King.”

  Julian studied Donnan, at last giving a slow nod. “Fine, but I don’t know what the King wants with a Scot.”

  As if sensing the tension, Kacey appeared and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “All right, Julian? Do you need another?”

  Julian’s scowl cleared. “Yes please, Kacey.”

  “Kacey is good, isn’t she?” asked Pitts to Julian, who smiled in agreement.

  “Yeah, she’s very good. To Kacey!” he said in a toast and clinked his scotch glass to Pitts’ pint. They laughed together.

  “So what do you have against Scotland?” Donnan asked Julian, unable to let the subject go.

  “Nothing, pal!” said Julian with a sigh. “Just been a bad day for me is all. This place, Wise Oak Inn, is the only relief I have. I was worried about foreigners taking over it, is all.”

  Donnan was curious to know all discontent from within the King’s Court. “What made your day so bad?”

  Kacey slid a glass of whiskey down the bar toward Julian, who winced at Donnan’s question. “Oh, I could tell you about my day, all right.”

  Pitts sighed. “You’re drunk, Julian. Go home.”

  “No, no, he asked!” slurred Julian. “My day is the beginning of my end of days.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Donnan as he took a sip of his own beer. Pitts was right; the food and drink was excellent. He could get used to this.

  Julian beckoned them closer, and Pitts and Donnan leaned in. “The King,” he began in the lowest of whispers, “wants me to find out about Alchemy. Not just Alchemy, but Dark Alchemy.”

  Donnan’s eyes widened as he returned to his original position. Julian really was drunk; news like that should not be shared. He would have to share this information with the Queen somehow.

  “Well, friend, you might not be a dead man after all,” said Pitts slowly. “My family is well versed in the ancient cultures. My sister, especially, loves Alchemy. Once when she was drunk like you—”

  “I’m not drunk!” interrupted Julian with a burp.

  Pitts just laughed. “Anyway, she told me once
she was especially fascinated by Dark Alchemy. It ruined her reputation, and she moved into a place deep in the woods so she could continue to learn and practice it. I haven’t seen her in years.”

  “You could take me to her?” Julian cried. “I’d like to see her. I need to know how the Ciphers work!”

  Donnan stared at them. What was happening? It felt like a plan was forming, one he hadn’t signed up for. Ciphers? What did Julian mean?

  Kacey returned, and Pitts and Julian asked for another drink. Donnan refused, worried about letting down his guard while on enemy territory. He stared at the bar and ate his dinner as he listened to the drunken men formulate a plan.

  “…I don’t think she’ll mind,” Pitts was saying. “She’s not really a witch, you know. No such thing as magic. Alchemy is a science and an art, not magic.”

  Donnan agreed with that.

  “And he should join us, as well.”

  Donnan nearly choked on his stew as he realized Pitts was pointing at him. “What?” he asked and pounded his chest before asking again, “What? Why me?”

  “Because if you really want to help the King, then you’ll want to join us. And you’ve heard too much already. We can’t trust you to leave. What if you tell someone?”

  How did I end up in this situation so quickly? Donnan couldn’t believe the drunk man’s reasoning. “Who would I tell? The Queen?” he joked nervously.

  This made both Pitts and Julian roar with laughter.

  “Yeah, because what can she do?” asked Pitts. “She’s just about helpless!”

  Donnan winced at the remark, but in an instant decided to make up for allowing it by getting as much intelligence as he could about the King’s plans for the war. “Fine. I’m in.”

  “Life is so weird,” muttered Donnan to his drink.

  The others were too drunk to pay attention, already launching into a loud rendition of the King’s anthem. Staring through his glass as the dark lager slid back down the sides, Donnan could see Miss Kacey shaking her head. She seemed like a smart lass.

  The cake never made it to the party.

  Mimi had been enjoying dancing with Richie so much, she hadn’t noticed how long Bas was gone for. She didn’t even miss the time traveler. She had Richie in her arms, and that was the only treat she needed.

  But when the door hissed open with a puff of steam, Mimi turned and smiled, expecting it to be Bas. Shock replaced her happiness. Standing behind Bas with a Photon Laser aimed at his back was Bellator and Captain Deatherage.

  “Who are they?” whispered Richie, tightening his hold on her.

  “Trouble! We have to get out of here,” Mimi hissed.

  “They followed me here!” Bas explained when he saw the panic in her eyes. “I tried to dodge them, but they wouldn’t let me escape.”

  Any friend of Barkley’s is an enemy of the King’s,” said Deatherage. “Hand over the Diary, however, and we’ll let you all go.”

  She had no choice. Bas was their guide, and Mimi needed him. She needed Albert. The Diary wasn’t important enough to sacrifice any of that.

  “Start by letting him go,” Mimi demanded, pointing at Bas.

  She backed up to her discarded sweater lying on a nearby chair, and pulled the crimson Diary out from under it. Why did I ever take it off the ship? she wondered.

  Deatherage nodded at Bellator, who pushed Bas roughly toward Mimi.

  Mimi looked around for an alternative exit. There was only one, and it was blocked by the two Ambassadors of Time. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Aimon push Albert under a table. Deatherage and Bellator seemed to have eyes only for the Diary. Bas backed away from them unnoticed. Their eyes met and Mimi knew he understood what he should do.

  She could feel Richie’s tension as she moved slowly toward Deatherage, making sure their eyes were on her. The Ambassador of Time charged, and Mimi screamed as Richie grabbed a chair and slammed it into the man.

  “Richie, no!” she cried.

  “Get out of here before you regret interrupting our party!” yelled Richie.

  From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw that brilliant golden light again, but everyone’s attention was otherwise engaged.

  Bellator laughed, a chilling sound. “No way. We earned our right to be here, boy. It was easy to find you, once we found him.” She pointed behind her at where Bas had been, noticed his absence and screamed in frustration. “Where did Barkley go?” She looked at her tracker necklace.

  “He went far away from you!” Mimi cried. She knew then Bas had taken Albert back to the Bas House, because when she looked around, both Bas and Albert vanished. She closed her eyes for a moment, giving thanks that her brother was safe.

  It appeared Captain Deatherage wasn’t the most patient of souls. Recovering from the hit, he shot his Photon Laser at Richie, hitting beside the boy’s foot. “Next time, boy, the shot will hit your heart! Now leave! All we want is the girl’s book!”

  “Never!” bellowed Richie. “You pick a fight with my Mimi, you pick a fight with me. Are you sure you wish to pick a fight with an Alchemist, a student of the Truth of Words? We have been preparing to fight our whole lives! You don’t want to mess with me. Leave us be, and you’ll live to see another day!”

  “Richie, no!” Mimi cried again. This was her fight, not his.

  “Ha! Foolish move, boy!” cried Deatherage, enraged.

  “Richie, run!” she screamed, grabbing his hand as the Photon Lasers began to charge. They didn’t take as much time as the Elemental Launchers. She didn’t need a white knight. She didn’t need a hero. She just needed for her Richie to be safe.

  Holding hands, they sprinted past the Time Ambassadors into the hall. Mimi briefly wondered where Aimon had disappeared to. Richie’s hand was gripping her own so tight it hurt, but she didn’t dare loosen it. They couldn’t afford to be separated now.

  It was late in the evening, and the lighting in the hallway was dimmed low, making it hard to navigate. Everything felt dark and cold, and she wondered if anyone would hear them if they screamed for help. But what could anyone else do against Photon Lasers of the future? She didn’t know where she was going as they ran, had no idea if there would ever be an end to it. It was worse than being lost in the ice maze of the Fear Test, because now Richie’s life was in danger as well as her own.

  His hand tightened. Escape felt hopeless. Deatherage and Bellator were older, faster and stronger than them. Did they even have a chance? The gap between them was shrinking with every step. They were closing in.

  Mimi looked down at the Diary clutched in her hand, wondering if she should drop it. Like before, the Diary seemed to heat up, as if begging her to keep it safe. Confidence and horror filled her all at once, and Mimi was determined. It wasn’t going to end that night. Not there, not then.

  “Where do we go, Richie?” she asked, wishing he would take the lead. She had no idea where she was going.

  “Anywhere away from them!”

  Dread filled Mimi as she slammed them straight into a golden wall. A dead end. Confidence drained away in an instant. “No!” She pulled Richie to her. “No, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  “We can survive this,” he reassured her with his winning smile.

  Mimi couldn’t believe he could exude confidence in a moment like this. “But now we’re trapped. It’s my fault,” she cried, tears beginning to spill as she heard the Ambassadors’ footsteps getting closer. There were no doors, no windows, no way of escape.

  “It’s not your fault, kid. It’s those creeps. Don’t ever think for one second this night was your fault. And don’t give up me just yet, Mimi Mockel. Remember what I said about doubt. Fear is a form of doubt. So we can’t give up just because we’re afraid. We have to try to run back past them. We have to dodge them.” He locked eyes with her, then pulled Mimi close for a swift, passionate kiss.

  The kiss was phenomenal, so special she could write a one-hit-wonder song about it. Most importantly, it gave her the stre
ngth to try. They parted, and together darted around the corner.

  It was too late. Bellator and Deatherage were upon them. Two shots were fired from the Photon Laser. Mimi ducked as Bellator’s shot flew over her head. The other shot did not miss.

  There was a thud as Richie hit the golden floor. Crimson blood pooled over the golden surface, breaking everything inside of Mimi.

  “Richie!” she screamed.

  A warmth spread from the Diary through Mimi’s body, and a golden glow seemed to spread from within her until it also encompassed Richie’s bleeding body. The protective bubble that saved her in the library was back, encasing her and Richie. His face was pale, his eyes draining rapidly of life. Mimi grasped his hand, but he did not return the grip. His weak hand was ice cold. It scared her.

  “Richie, no! You can’t leave me!” she whispered, falling on top of him as tears streamed down her face.

  To her surprise, Richie laughed, blood splattering out of his mouth. “You don’t need me, kid.”

  A blast shook the bubble, but Mimi’s eyes were glued to her dying Richie. “But I do need you! Tell me, how can I help you? You did so much for me, Richie. You changed me for the better, I meant it when I said that. How can I help you? It’s my turn to help you. Bas has a robot friend, she can heal you!”

  “Not even a robot can fix me, kid. I can feel it. Listen, I don’t think I have much time. Mimi, Mimi Mockel, this is very important. Will you do one thing for me?” he asked.

  “Anything!” she sobbed as the bubble wobbled under an onslaught of shots from the Photon Lasers. Mimi didn’t care. Her world was already crashing.

  “Never again give up on yourself. Don’t waste time avenging me by attacking those creeps. You get yourself to safety. And when you are safe, find Aimon. You make him teach you. Tell him it’s what I wanted. Tell him he has to be your mentor. And tell him if he ever doubts your worth as a Prodigy again, I will haunt him.”

  Mimi smiled through her tears at the thought of a ghost Richie. Leave it to him to make a joke at a time like this. “Oh Richie, I promise. I won’t give up on being the Prodigy. But I just wish...”