The Fake Heart (Time Alchemist Series) Read online

  It was so calming. I could feel the pains in my chest subside with every long, drawn and ragged breath I took as the girl continued to hold me. My vision slowly came back to place, and then it was like the world went at normal speed again—like a rubber band being stretched, and stretched until it finally snapped into place.

  ◊◊◊◊◊

  “Who are you? How did you get in here? And what the heck is going on?”

  The blonde fiddled with the metal tab of the can of pop I had hesitantly offered to her earlier before stating, “You mustn’t shout so much. It’ll hurt your…damaged heart.”

  I sighed; pressing my own cold can against my cheek in annoyance. Come to think of it, the more irritated I got, my heart did start to throb just a little bit. As the girl kept messing with the can (did she not know how to just pop the tab off?), I took that moment to really study her.

  Even with the scrapes and bits of dirt and blooming bruises on her face and skin, she still was very model-esqe. Her hair really was such a light blonde that in some lights it almost looked white. Her crystal blue eyes were locked in concentration at the task at hand (really…opening a can of pop), but I couldn’t help but notice the pale red markings on her hands, so light they looked like veins. They circled all around her hands and up her wrist, and then started to fade near the edge of her black sweater that had been rolled up to her elbows. They looked like something out of an occult book or a movie.

  The constant click-clicking of her messing with the tab finally got on my nerves. I stormed over to my bed, snatched it up and cracked it open for her before stomping back over to my computer desk chair. It creaked under my weight.

  “Thank you,” she said, locking her eyes with mine. She didn’t once take a sip. “Have you calmed down, yet?”

  “I would be much calmer if you start would explaining things to me!” I said, slamming down my own unopened drink on the oak desk.

  “You need to calm down,” she said again with eerie patience, “Your fake heart will—”

  “And what’s with this ‘fake heart’ stuff?” I demanded, gripping the edge of the chair. My hands were trembling uncontrollably and that ache in my chest was rising again. “Answer my questions, or I’m calling for security!” I shot up from the chair like it was a hot coal and started over towards the door. I should have run from the start. Why was I letting this trespasser sitting on my bed and drinking my pop trying to pry some damn answers out of her when I should have just made a run for it in the first place!

  “Dove.”

  My hand froze over the knob. A wave of nausea hit me at that name.

  “You shouldn’t have done this, Dove. None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me.”

  I heard the bed creak slightly as the girl got up, “That is my name,” she said, “Dove Raysburg. I am eighteen years old…and I am—or was—a Blood Alchemist.”

  I turned to her, but her back was facing me. She stared out the half open window, in the direction of the church. She didn’t move from her spot, even when I walked over, making sure to keep a bit of distance between us.

  “I suppose it’s time I answered your questions,” she said slowly, shifting her gaze from the outside to me. With a swift motion she jumped up to sit on the window sill, kicking the blue polka dot pillow I had meticulously placed there my first day here onto the musty floor. I refused to break eye contact as I bent over to retrieve it, clutching it as I slowly settled back down onto my desk chair.

  “Where do I even start?” I asked, biting my lip, “What…what are you?”

  “I am an alchemist,” the girl—no, Dove—repeated, fumbling with the edge of her cotton sweater hem, “No, I was an alchemist. Not anymore.”

  “Alchemist?” my jaw dropped, “You mean like….magic and turning metal into gold and stuff?”

  “Basically yes,” she replied serenely, and I shut my gaping mouth, “Although it’s against our laws to turn metals into gold or silver.”

  “I—wait, ‘our’ laws? Does that mean there are more of…you?” I asked flabbergasted, but then remembered the boy from this morning. Was he an alchemist too? “You…this morning you made weapons come out of your hands! Was that your…alchemy too?”

  Dove nodded, her short hair shuffling against her neck in swift motions. Without the strange symbols on her arms, she could really pull of being a model. She did look like the type of girl that would even put a snooty girl like Mallory Wells to shame in the looks department.

  Dove really did have the air of someone elegant and graceful. Like royalty.

  “Why are you so surprised?” she asked, “Alchemists do exist in this day and age, we just aren’t as prominent as we used to be.”

  I got up from my chair again and started to pace the room. My jacket had long been hung up on the back of the desk chair, but it was still unbearably sweltering in this tiny room. “No, no, no,” I rambled, “This isn’t real. Alchemy is just…magic! It’s not an actual science! Things like that just don’t happen! I—ugh!”

  Damn! The pain in my chest was increasing again!

  “You need to calm down,” Dove said for the umpteenth time this past hour, yet she didn’t tackle me to the ground this time. She remained in her spot on the window sill, playing with the aluminum blue and red can. “I’ve already said it before, but I am serious. If you panic too much, or get severely agitated, that fake heart of yours will break.”

  Despite my inner protests, I bite my tongue, forcing myself to take four deep, deep breaths. My heart slowly calmed again. I placed a hand to my chest, feeling the gentle beats beneath my skin. “What do you mean by a ‘fake heart’?”

  “I had to do it,” Dove said nonchalantly, turning away from me. She leaned her forehead against the window pane before continuing, “It’s against the law to revive someone from the dead, but—”

  “Wait!” I shouted, “So that means none of that was a dream? All of those fighting and weapons were real? And I really—” I gulped, feeling a stone of dread form in my stomach, “I really did…die?”

  Dove turned towards me, and I finally saw the reason why she had avoided my gaze in the first place—there were tears threatening to spill in the corner of her eyes.

  “It was my entire fault,” she said, her voice shaking, “It was my fault an outsider got involved. I couldn’t just sit there and let you die, so…” another pause, “So I used all of my own power to stop your time.”

  “Stop my…time?” I repeated each word slowly, but it wasn’t sinking in. None of this conversation was really sinking into my head, but…this was real. This girl was sitting in my dorm room; there was a horrible ache in my chest where I was stabbed.

  This was all real.

  “Yes. I ‘traded’ my alchemy to halt your time and repair the hole in your heart.” She got up and padded toward me, until we were nearly eye to eye. Up close we were almost the exact height, except she was just a few centimeters taller than me. She placed her index finger right over my heart. “As of now, your time has completely stopped. Your death has been halted—as are you. You can’t grow or age, but you aren’t immortal. In exchange for that, you now have the power of alchemy inside you. To put it shortly: I’ve awakened your own alchemic core.”

  My head was spinning again, but not from panic. No, it was more like…confusion mixed with a weird, tingly feeling that this was all bigger than I could imagine.

  “What’s your name?” Dove asked, tilting her head to the side as she retracted the pressure off my chest.

  I took a step back before answering, “Emery. Is everything you’re telling me true? Did all of that fighting in the woods really happen? Did I really, um, almost die? Am I an….alchemist?”

  She nodded, her eyes filled with a solemn gaze. “Yes. You’re an alchemist now, Emery. And we don’t have much time before your time officially runs out.”

  ◊◊◊◊◊

  Somewhere across the hallway I could hear the muffled voices and giggles of girls,
as well as the rhythmic beats of a stereo being played at full blast. Outside, the sky was giving off a deep reddish glow. There were even a few stars scattered up above, and I just realized how fast the day had gone by. Well, technically I was comatose the whole day, but still.

  A low gurgling sound came from my stomach. How could I even be hungry at a time like this? Even though it was so tempting to reach into the mini fridge next to my desk and rummage through, I couldn’t move from the hard spot of the old wooden chair, which was starting to make my butt go numb.

  “What exactly do you mean by that?” I asked, feeling my hand tremble over my, um, fake heart. “I thought you said my time had stopped?”

  “It has,” she explained; once again back on the window sill. This time, however, she had shut the window and drawn the curtains. But despite that I could still make out all of her details through the light filtering through the thin curtains. I clicked the desk lamp on, casting a warm orange glow over the room as she continued, “But I’m not a healer. Far from it. I stopped your time, but there’s no telling how long you really have before my own alchemy wears off.”

  “But didn’t you say you, uh ‘exchanged’ your alchemy to stop my time?”

  “Yes, but it’s not really the same. It’s…complicated. I had to trade a power that is equal to stopping time—which was my alchemy. But even though your time has stopped, not only has your life been saved, but you’ve also got my powers within you. So, with enough training, you can become a great alchemist if—”

  “Whoa!” I shouted, raising my arms up, “Who said anything about me training to be an alchemist?”

  She stared at me like I was the crazy one who barged into her room and started shouting about the process of magic and stuff.

  “You have to,” she said matter-of-factly, “It’s the only way to figure out how to control your powers and to find the solution to getting your time back.”

  “The ‘solution’? What solution?”

  “We need to find the Elixir of Life,” Dove said with a straight face. A complete, one hundred percent absolute, straight face. She was serious. Dead serious. “That is the only way to save your life and continue your own time once again.”

  “No way,” I said. For some reason I wanted to laugh, but given the situation, that probably wasn’t a good idea. Sure, Dove said she didn’t have her “alchemy” powers anymore but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous. (How did she even get into my room in the first place? No way did I have that window opened this morning!) “You mean like in Harry Potter?”

  She tilted her head again, like a puppy that was being scolded on making a mess on the carpet…confused and a little upset as to why someone was being upset at her. “I don’t know anyone by that name so I can’t answer that.”

  “But you’re serious,” I said, completely blown over. I couldn’t tell if she was just toying with me of she was honestly serious about everything, “There really is such a thing as an Elixir of Life?”

  “Days, no, hours ago you wouldn’t have believed in alchemy,” she retorted, “and the fact that it saved your life.”

  She had me there. As utterly bizarre as it sounds, I knew this was all real. Confusing? Yes. But it was real. The fact that Dove was the girl I had seen in the woods was here, living and breathing in person should have been proof enough.

  “So this Elixir can save my life,” I exclaimed. “And I need to help you find it by becoming an alchemist.”

  Dove nodded, “Pretty much. We’ve got quite a lot of explaining and catching up to do. You might as well make yourself comfortable.”

  I had a feeling this was going to be a long night. No, scratch that. A long school semester.

  A really, really, really long semester.

  CHAPTER 7

  I sat on the edge of the rumpled bed, my back against the wall and holding one of the plush pillows to my chest. I really should have changed out of my uniform (I could already imagine how early I’d have to get up to make sure my shirt was wrinkle-free as well as the pleated skirt. Not to mention cleaning my shoes that probably had bits of dirt and grass stuck to the bottom).

  Dove was on the other end, playing with frayed ends of blankets. She left her opened drink untouched on the window sill, and I made a mental note to buy bottled water instead of caffeinated drinks instead. That was a huge waste of money for the little allowance that was sent to me every two weeks.

  “So…” I began, uncertain.

  “Where do I even begin?”

  “From the beginning—no, wait, how did you even find my room? And how did you even know this was my room in the first place?”

  Wordlessly, she reached into the pocket of her denim shorts, pulling out a piece of paper folded into a perfect, if slightly rumpled square. I took it tentatively, my fingers trembling slightly as I unfolded it—revealing my class schedule. And at the very top:

  St. Mary’s Academy

  Emery Delaine Miller—Sophomore Student—Resident of Moore Hall

  “How?”

  “I found it sticking out of your bag when you…fell,” Dove said, “It wasn’t too hard to find where Moore Hall was. This was the only room empty, so I simply assumed this was were you were staying. Forgive me; I did a little…double checking to make sure this was really you’re room. And I’ve been waiting here, ever since this morning for you.”

  I smoothed my crumpled class schedule over my leg, running my hand slowly over the crisp page. “Let’s push that bit of creepiness to the side. I…want to know who you are.”

  Dove crossed her bare legs, and turned a little to face me. I couldn’t help but notice how really long and slender they were, but they also looked toned, like she was a runner. Then again, judging by how well she was fighting this morning, maybe she was just that kind of person who was incredibly fit and strong. “Well, I already told you my name. Dove Raysburg. Again, I’m eighteen years old, and I practiced the act of Blood Alchemy—a very rare type of alchemy but…alchemy none the less.”

  “Is that how you saved my life?”

  “Yes.”

  I crossed one ankle over the other. “Okay, Dove. What are you doing here…why?”

  “Should I start from the beginning?” she asked.

  I eyed her wearily, “How far from the beginning? Oh you know what, never mind. Just…wherever you want to start, I guess.”

  “It’s quite a long story…”

  A yawn escaped my lips, but I was far from tucking in for bed now, even if my body disagreed. “I’ve got time—uh, I mean, tonight I have time, you know…”

  Dove nodded, and then settled back against the wall. Something told me to get comfortable also, so I stretched my legs out so that my feet were dangling off the edge of the bed.

  “I’ll start as far as I can. I know…we’ll begin with the Elixir.” She began. “The Elixir of Life has been known by many names over the years: The Philosopher’s Stone; the Elixir of Immortality…the list goes on. But basically it is just called the ‘Elixir’ by most alchemists. It’s a potent substance used in alchemy to increase ones power tenfold. It’s incredibly powerful—but at the same time it’s incredibly dangerous, especially if it falls into the wrong hands.”

  “Dangerous?” I repeated. How could something that could cure diseases or grant immortality by dangerous?

  “I’m getting to that.” In other words: Shut up, Emery. “Centuries ago, an alchemist named Nicolas Flamel was rumored to have created the Elixir of Life. It could cure any disease, turn any metal into priceless gold, and grant the user a body free of illness and age. In other words: an eternal body. There were even rumors that Flamel himself had used the Elixir to become immortal, but nobody really knows for sure. Either way, Flamel didn’t want to leave such a powerful matter in the hands of greed after his ‘death’, so he had assigned one of his most trustworthy apprentices to take possession of the Elixir.”

  “Why not just destroy the Elixir if it was so dangerous?” I said without thinking. Dove
gave me a quick smile that pretty much said, You really think if it were that easy we would be here?

  “If that was the case, we wouldn’t be where we are today,” she said, “It’s a matter that can’t be destroyed—it can only be used, or simply locked away in hopes that mankind will forget about its existence.”

  Right. Of course. I nodded sheepishly, eager for her to continue.

  “As I was saying, Flamel had two apprentices under his wing—Ivan Novak and Guinevere de Blanc. After Flamel’s ‘death’, he had left all of his research notes and his dying will to Guinevere, his favorite pupil as well as his most trusted. That action in itself had caused a rift between the two apprentices. Ivan wanted the notes to become immortal out of greed. Guinevere was the opposite—and it’s something that Flamel had taken notice of.

  “But something had happened between the two of them, and there was some horrible accident that had killed Ivan and nearly killed Guinevere herself. She had done the most forbidden act to fulfill her master’s last wish: she took a taste of the Elixir.”

  My eyes widened like eating plates, “She became…immortal?”

  “Yes,” Dove said solemnly, “Guinevere spent her life traveling around the world and hiding bits and pieces of the Elixir so no other person could obtain them and suffer. She was an amazing person. Very gifted in her skill.”

  “It sounds as if,” I paused, “You know her.”

  A small smile graced Dove’s lips. “She is my Mentor. Guinevere took me in when I was a child.”

  “Okay,” I said, “So if Guinevere hid away the pieces of the Elixir, why are you trying to find them now? Where is your teacher anyway? Why isn’t she here with you right now?”