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

  He shot back up once he made it to the English side of the REP and at last the coolness of the night sky reached his metal feathers. He squawked as his wings activated once again. He flapped upward toward the Queen’s castle, where Odette was waiting for him.

  Because countries no longer existed, only Courts remained, and they were divided. The Queen’s Court was in an even more sorry state than the King’s. While the people of the King’s Court were worried about their homes, the Queen’s Court had the additional worries of poverty and illness. For technology in the Queen’s Court simply didn’t exist. On the losing side, jobs were scarce, they couldn’t afford hospitals and lived as constant refugees.

  Old Buckingham Palace was in ruin and barely standing. Knox tilted his head to the right as he heard some noise coming from a pub a few blocks away, but the scuffle was none of his concern. He swooped downward, preparing to land in the window belonging to Odette.

  He let out a quiet squawk as he landed to alert Odette of his presence without drawing attention from the guards. The mechanical bird with artificial intelligence knew she enjoyed her privacy. He sat on his brass perch, and waited until she crossed the room to greet him.

  PRINCESS ODETTE had been waiting anxiously all night for her pet to return.

  She was supposed to have been studying A Brief History of the Ageless War, but her mind was too distracted in thinking what her lover could have possibly written to her that night to concentrate on her schoolwork. Despite being twenty-six years old, Princess Odette was still forced to study her lineage and the history of the war until she memorized every fact. Her caretaker had started her back at the basics.

  Odette stared at her reflection in the closed window. She hated how much time it took to get her golden hair smooth, but the Queen hated when her hair was coarse. First impressions were everything. If she got lazy and stopped spending so much time on her hair, her mother would notice, and remind her that laziness was a sign of immaturity. Odette was mature enough to know not to argue. She knew she was lucky to live in the castle instead of in the poor city surrounding them. Dutifully she did as she was told, grateful for everything that being a princess came with.

  Especially her secret romance with a mysterious Captain.

  The last month or so their romantic exchanges had been progressing, sending her world into a shocking whirlwind. All she could think of was him. For a man she’d never met, it was near impossible to imagine her heart so smitten, but he was the first man to ever show interest in her. Odette had never left the castle unsupervised, never had conversations with men.

  Their romance had happened quite by accident.

  In a world where technology was scarce, it was very difficult to meet someone without actually meeting them in person. The fact that this romantic encounter even happened in the first place was one of the reasons Odette had fallen so hard and so fast for her sweet Captain. She took it as a sign from the Universe that this must be her destiny. That of all the rooms his letter to her mother could have accidently been delivered to, it was her room. And it must have been fate, she proposed to her romantic mind, that she decided to open the said letter and reply back. His reply back had sealed her utter belief that she had found her destiny when she found her Captain. There was no ounce of logic that could rupture her belief that at last she had found her one true love. If she could just meet him, she could prove to herself and her mother, the stubborn Queen, that she was no longer a little girl. That she deserved a chance of love. Despite her parents having one of the worst Royal Divorces in the history of the Ageless War, she still believed that true love existed, and that this Captain was destined to steal her heart.

  “Thank you, Knox,” she cried as the raven landed.

  Beside the window was a small table and on it a brass, hexagon-shaped box. Taking the contents of the box in her hand, Odette fed the raven the heavy coal-colored pellets. Odette didn’t know what the pellets were made of, but her father, the King, had said in a letter once that they were what gave the bird his energy. The King sent her a fresh bag of pellets every Christmas, enough for the whole year. It was the only present her father ever gives her, and she wonders if it is truly sent by her father, or his servant.

  As she lifted the letter once more, she gave a happy sigh and all sad thoughts of her uncaring father left her mind completely as she wondered what wonderful words her Captain wrote to her today.

  “Oh Knox,” she said as her hands shook with anticipation, “you always bring me the best news. Let us see what he wrote today.”

  Julian Barros felt like a criminal as he was escorted to the King’s Castle by the two guards. It was an insult to be treated this way. Was he not the King’s adviser? Had he not spent the last decade assisting the King? The proximity of the guards only confirmed his fear that he would die tonight. Death he wasn’t prepared for. He had so much history to still learn! So much knowledge to consume.

  He was going to die because he couldn’t find anything on those damn Ciphers. His chest started to tighten with stress at the very thought. The very, very probable thought. He felt like a damned man.

  Twilight struggled to grace the sky, barely peeking beyond the edges of the gray clouds of what would have been a sunset if not for the cloudy day the city suffered through. The wind blew the tails of the guards’ long coats. Julian’s fingerless gloved hands pulled the turndown collar of his wool coat tighter around his neck to bundle up. Sunset wasn’t for another hour, but the crisp air made it feel cold as night.

  It wasn’t much warmer inside the King’s damp castle. There were only a few torches on the walls, providing little warmth for those inside. Julian’s boots guided him automatically through that walk of shame as he made his way to the King. The King’s Hall was one wide massive room, with high arched ceilings. It was the center of the gothic castle and where the King spent most of his time.

  The King looked bored. Julian’s alarm increased as he noticed two guards carrying a corpse out the back entrance of the King’s Hall. He gulped. That knot of stress in his stomach twisted even tighter.

  “That’s why we hailed you early,” said the guard on the left in a quiet voice.

  “Yeah, the King’s last meeting got cut short,” said the guard on the right.

  “Good luck,” taunted the guard on the left, “he’s not in the best of moods.”

  Frowning, Julian approached the King, his sense of dismay increasing with every step.

  The King sat on his plush throne made of shiny marble stone and cushions. The throne looked like a giant oyster shell, making the King stand out like a pearl. It had a Doric column on each of the throne’s four corners, and soft purple sheets hung from the columns.

  Behind the King was a single massive silk tapestry. The main body of the tapestry was royal violet, which matched the King’s robe. The tapestry had a lustrous gold border and hung from floor to ceiling. In the center of the tapestry was the King’s insignia. Outlining the insignia was his family’s crest of long ago. Underneath his family’s crest was his Court’s slogan: “Indu Sanguis Nos Credre” or “In Blood We Trust.”

  Julian walked up to the first step before the throne, staring into the King’s eyes, craning his neck to do so. He wanted the appearance of bravery.

  The King killed the awkward silence in the room with a very unexpected question.

  “Did a book fall on you?” asked the King, his voice sounding much louder with its echo around the room.

  “What?” asked Julian, the question catching him completely off guard.

  The King pointed to his own right eye with his golden staff, a long and slender cane which many knew he used to beat servants. Julian caught his reflection in the King’s shiny marble throne. His right eye was completely black and blue. He winced at how unattractive it looked.

  “No, Sire, rotten Metal-Hunters.”

  “Ah,” said the King. He chuckled, as if he was amused his studious advisor had gotten in a fight. If Julian wasn’t mistaken, he loo
ked almost proud.

  But it couldn’t be. Everyone knew the King only cared about power and not about his employees. Regardless of how long they served him. Ten years of service, and this was the closest to a real conversation Julian had actually had with the man in front of him.

  “Now then,” began the King and Julian gulped. “Have you found them yet? You know I already killed two people over the damn things and I’m getting tired of no one knowing anything about them.”

  Julian winced. “Well, Sire, that’s just the thing. No one does know where they’re hidden. They’re somewhat of a legend.”

  The King scowled and stood. “Legend?” He marched down the throne’s steps, placed an arm around Julian’s shoulders and led him to the right side of the hall.

  Underneath a concrete arch rested a case. The display case was on a narrow stand, a perfect fit to hold the object inside the case. Julian frowned as he recognized it, unsure what the King’s game was. But it was better than the King killing him immediately, so he played along.

  “This is one of them,” said the King and pointed to the object. “This is one of the three Ciphers. So you see, telling me they are but a legend is useless. Because, as you can see in front of you, I already have one. They are more than legend. And I completely believe that there two more. What we don’t know is where they are. Having one is utterly useless. They only work as a set.”

  Julian nodded. This he knew. He stared at the device in front of him, suddenly hating it. If it wasn’t for the Ciphers, he’d have not failed the King. The Cipher taunted him, a bronze cylinder with binary code. The numbers 01010101 repeated five or six times, and the end of the Cipher had a diamond shape cut into it.

  “I understand they are real, I never doubted that. But there are just no records in our library about where to find the other twin Ciphers. I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

  “Sorry?” he asked with a sneer. “Sorry won’t win me this war!”

  Julian winced and looked up to see anger flash in the King’s eyes. His hand tightened on the staff he held, and Julian knew he had to calm the King down if he wanted to live.

  “Sir, might I be so bold to ask, how did you find the first one? It might be a clue as to how we can find the other two. Sometimes history isn’t always told in books, and our own memories can be just as valuable as a history lesson.”

  The King stared down at Julian. He thought a moment, then patted Julian on the shoulder.

  “Do you know why I hired you, Barros? You weren’t the highest recommended, I can tell you that. There was one other that came even higher recommended. I think his name was North. He had more of a passion for science. And at first I thought that’s what I needed, a science advisor. And I was just about to promote him. But then you showed up. Requesting permission to use my libraries. And then you started rambling. On and on you went, about history was repeating itself, and we were doomed if we followed. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I was listening. Of course, you were ranting utter nonsense about being doomed and all that. We were on the winning side; I had no reason to worry about the future. But you made a solid point about the importance of history, and how it could help with the war. And North only had promises of what he could design, he didn’t have anything solid to offer me at the time. So I chose you. This morning I was ready to fire you though, when it became clear you hadn’t found anything on the Ciphers.”

  Julian’s worry increased. If the King fired someone, that person would never be able to work again. Being jobless and ergo homeless was almost worse than being executed.

  “What changed your mind?” asked Julian nervously. “Not that I’m complaining.”

  The King actually laughed. His good mood was shocking.

  “Your ranting just now, about needing to understand the history of the Ciphers if we are to find the other two. It reminded me why I hired you in the first place. And I am starting to believe if you can understand the history of the Ciphers, then perhaps you can find a clue I might have missed. Of course, the history of the Ciphers wouldn’t be in our stacks of books, as only the King can know their secrets. So it is best I show you. Ha! I should have thought of this plan sooner!”

  “Show me? Not tell me?”

  “That’s right. Follow me, and you will soon see everything.”

  THE KING guided him out of the throne room, leading Julian down the exact same path he’d seen the guards carry the corpse. They took a sharp left and walked down the corridor, past the double oak doors that led to the dungeon. They passed the Ambassador of Time Hall and finally they walked into the kitchen.

  Julian could smell wonderful things, could hear the sounds of tomatoes being chopped on a wooden cutting board and onions being finely minced. Sunset beamed out the window to the right of them; Julian had almost forgotten that it was just about dinner time. The King led him further through the kitchen, all the way to the back.

  On the very back wall was a bookcase filled to the brim with recipe books. The King gazed to the left of the bookcase at a row of bricks. Julian looked from the King to the brick he seemed to be focusing on, one with a tiny hole. The King raised his golden staff and used the end of the staff to push down on the engraved hole on the brick. There was a low rumbling noise and the tiled floor suddenly shook before them. The wall slid inward in one swift movement to reveal a doorway for them.

  Julian followed the King inside the very dusty corridor. This corridor was narrower than the standard hallways of the castle. Julian and the King had to tilt their shoulders sideways just to slide through the hallway. Finally the long hallway opened up to reveal a room.

  The room was dark, with only a few lit candles. There were two guards standing beside a machine in the center of the room. The machine was bronze in color, and part of the machine consisted of two metal chairs facing opposite directions. The backs of the chairs were connected by brass tubing.

  The machine had a large clear vial, looking somewhat like a very narrow, very tall lightbulb. The base of the bulb was connected to a dark brass tank, which had a complicated control panel.

  The King whistled to the guard to gain his attention, as a master would to a dog, and pointed at the tank. The guard snapped his heels, gave a salute, and hustled to the strange machine. He turned it on by pushing a large gold lever upward and pointed at Julian, beckoning him to come closer to the machine.

  Julian hesitated, but one stern look from the King was all he needed to follow the guard’s instructions. He quickly walked toward the machine, and the King walked behind him, pressuring Julian to hurry up his pace. He could feel the King’s anticipation, and it was contagious. Julian was beyond curious.

  “Your hand,” ordered the guard and Julian lifted his hand up.

  The guard grabbed it and Julian tried to yank it back when the guard pulled out a dagger. The King placed a hand on his shoulder, instructing him to stand still. Julian did as he was told.

  “We both need a sample of our blood for the MT,” explained the King, as if that would answer all of his questions.

  “The Memory Transfer,” explained the guard when he saw Julian’s confusion.

  “But—ouch!” cried Julian as the guard used the tip of the long dagger to prick his left index finger.

  “The Memory Transfer will allow you to see my memories,” said the King. “It’s all in the blood. And electricity. How it works is rather complicated from what I understand, and was designed by a woman who was an apprentice to the man who invented the Raw Earth Pod. But to use it is rather easy. The hard part will be focusing. But I’m sure with all those books you read, you should have no problem with focus.”

  “And if I can’t focus?” asked Julian nervously.

  A loud noise sparked in his ear as the guard injected Julian’s blood into the machine. He took a drop of the King’s blood, who didn’t even wince, and also inserted it into the machine by placing it into a small Petri dish. The machine sucked the blood from the Petri dis
h.

  “Well then, there’s a chance you’ll end up in a coma, and I’ll have the annoying task of finding myself a new advisor.”

  “Yes, that would be unfortunate,” agreed Julian.

  More sparking noises charged the machine. The blood traveled up and down the lightbulb glass structure of the machine, as if it were a running stream. The glass, now stained crimson, emitted a red glow. It also created heat in the room, and illuminated it with a dark red ambiance. It frightened Julian. He gazed at the King, whose white skin now looked blood red.

  “Sit,” ordered the King. Julian obeyed.

  Sitting down in the metal chairs was uncomfortable, even more so when the guard placed his wrists in metal restraints. Turning his head, Julian could see the King was also being put in the same restraints.

  “Remember,” warned the King, “think only of the Ciphers. It helps to mentally repeat to yourself what it is you are seeking. You are seeking the truth of the Ciphers. You will see in my memories the memories of the first King, as they were passed from king to king, and now are within me. I do not think I have to even tell you how much trouble you’ll be in if these secrets are shared.”

  “No, I wouldn’t dream of it!”

  “Good. Loyalty is what I value above all. Good luck Barros, try to relax, and remember, remember the Ciphers.”

  “Remember the Ciphers,” repeated Julian in a whisper.

  The guard at the machine pulled another lever upward. There was a hiss and a large pocket of steam, and then the Memory Transfer began.

  The flash of light faded and Mimi was glad. That bright light caused more spots to dance in front of her eyes than school picture day. Her legs once again felt like limp spaghetti noodles and she hoped they would return to normal soon.