Alchemist Academy: Book 1 (6 page)

“You’re not going to give up on this, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Fine, but tomorrow. I’d like to have another day with you before you go completely alchy crazy.”

 

Mark shared my desk the next day. Bridget shot glances back at us if we laughed or spoke loudly enough for her to hear. I couldn’t help but look at Bridget differently after what had happened in the chimichanga line.

The time flew by with Mark in class next to me, and then when the lunch bell rang, I lifted a brown bag from my backpack.

“I brought us both lunch today. We can sit at my tree.”

The other kids scraped their chairs against the concrete floor and shuffled their books into their packs. Bridget got up and left in a hurry, giving me a glance along the way.

“You don’t want to hang in the quad? We might find some people you actually like.”

“No, we won’t.”

“I’ve only been here for two days and I already can tell you a few people I think you’d like.”

“Are you trying to set me up on a date?”

He laughed. “No, let’s forget it. I love your tree spot.”

I smiled and stood. We walked across the campus, past the art classroom to the large oak tree. I selected a ground-down root as a chair and tapped my hand on the space next to me. Mark sat next to me in the shade of the tree’s canopy.

“What did you bring?” Mark asked, gesturing toward my paper bag.

“Turkey sandwiches. I snuck the good sharp cheddar out of the fridge this morning.” I handed him the sandwich wrapped in cellophane.

I unwrapped mine and took a bite, but I wasn’t thinking about food. I hadn’t thought about much of anything besides stones, alchemy, and this Academy he’d mentioned. It consumed my thoughts so much, I had to suppress them so I wouldn’t look like some freak in front of Mark.

“We should do something cool today,” I said.

He held his sandwich with both hands and chewed what remained in his mouth before answering. “I take it you have something in mind?”

“I want you to show me what you and your mom do. This manipulation thing?”

He set his sandwich down on his lap and instantly I knew I’d asked for too much, too soon.

“I don’t help her in that kind of stuff. It isn’t right to use the stones that way.”

I searched for the words. “We don’t have to do it the way your mom does, you know? We can just have fun, maybe mess with some people. You’re the one who said they don’t even know what happened to them.” I hugged my sandwich close to my body. “Come on, please?”

“You’re so dang cute when you beg.” He paused. “Yes, we can find some innocent people and then use them solely for our entertainment.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds even more awesome.”

 

 

I told Mark about the sidecar, which he thought was the funniest thing in the world, but he declined to ride in it. It was a short walk to Main Street.

I felt the small sack hanging next to my hip. Having two stones so close to my skin made me nervous, especially since I knew what they did. Mark had shown me how to make them and they were a staple of his mom’s arsenal.

He took my hand away from my side and wrapped it around his.

“You nervous?” he asked.

“A little. I mean, what if they notice, or what if I drop one?”

“We can turn around right now.” Mark slowed down, but I shook my head and kept walking down Main Street.

The Swan looked busier than normal, with at least six people in it. A few customers were at the bar, and a couple was sitting close at the back table. We passed by the window, and I looked briefly into the next place, Bob’s Electronics. TVs were displayed in the window, hanging from thin cables. Some sports game was on; football, it looked like.

Mark slowed down and observed the screens before catching back up with me as I stopped in front of the farmer’s market. Busier than the Swan, it had clusters of people touching different fruits on display or taking small samples of beef jerky from a jerky cart. It was big enough for a couple of stone wielders like us to mingle through, but small enough that we could witness the disturbances we created.

“How about him?” Mark nodded toward a hefty man examining the beef and cheese cart.

“I don’t know. I was thinking about him.” I pointed to a man aat the orange cart. His shifty eyes glanced at us and he moved closer to the stand.

I walked over to the cabbage vendor and pretended to pick through some stacks of iceberg lettuce.

“Two for five, miss,” the cabbage salesman said.

I snuck more glances at the man in the thick coat, and when I didn’t respond to the salesman, he walked back to his chair, mumbling something about teenagers.

“Five bucks says that guy is shady,” Mark whispered.

“I don’t know. He might just—” Before I could finish the sentence, I saw him stuff an orange into his jacket. “Did you see that?”

“Got a bandit in the farmer’s market.” Mark smiled.

This was better than I’d thought. I’d had reservations about using these magical rocks on an innocent person, but this little man had just stolen something. He deserved a little bit of pranking.

“He’s the one. Which stone should I use first?”

“The one with yellow stripes.”

I removed the sack from my pocket and opened it on the palm of my hand. A blue stone with red speckles sat next to a milky one with yellow stripes. I pinched the yellow striped one and walked over to the shady man, who was now standing next to an apple cart. He asked the salesman to grab a jar of apple cider from behind him and used the opportunity to stuff an apple into his pocket.

I moved closer as he rejected the cider. “Never mind. I thought it might be something spicier,” the thief said. He glanced at me and moved to the next cart.

I followed, with Mark close behind me. I pinched the stone harder between my fingers and moved in on the criminal. He glanced back at me and narrowed his eyes before moving to the pomegranates. I moved next to him and reached for a pomegranate. I dropped the stone on the back of his hand. He jerked his hand back, but the stone had already dissolved by the time he brought his hand to his face.

He rubbed his palm and glared at me.

“Sorry, just grabbing one,” I said, keeping my eyes on him, waiting for the stone to do its thing.

He stopped rubbing his hands and a glazed look washed over his eyes as his hands slumped to his sides. I set the pomegranate back on the pile and waved my hand in front of his face. He didn’t blink.

Mark moved next to me and leaned in front of the vacant-looking man. He studied the man’s face, then shrugged, reached into the man’s jacket and pulled out his wallet.

“Let’s see who this guy is.”

“How long will he be like this?”

“You made the stone strong enough to last for a few minutes.” Mark opened his wallet and looked through it. “Look.” He fanned a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills. “Mr. Ralph Lafferty doesn’t appear to be starving.”

“What should we do with him?”

“I think Mr. Lafferty here should pay for what he’s taken, don’t you?”

I nodded and looked over at the man sitting behind the apple cart, leaning back with his arms crossed, watching another person pass by.

Mark walked over to him. “Excuse me,” Mark said.

The apple vendor stood up from his chair and sighed. “Yes?”

“Sir, the man over there forget to pay for an apple. He’s mighty sorry, and he wanted me to give you this.” Mark held out a hundred-dollar bill.

The man’s face shrank as he inspected the bill. “An apple is only a dollar. I don’t have change for a hundred.”

“Keep it.”

“You serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“Tell him thanks. He comes here all the time, but never buys anything. I just thought he was some cheap bastard.” The man regarded Ralph with a wave.

“Listen,” I said. “That man’s been taking fruit from you and probably all the other vendors for a long time. Mark, give him all of it. Divide it among the other vendors here, okay?”

He shrugged and pulled the stack from Ralph’s wallet, then handed it to the skeptical vendor.

“Who are you kids?”

“Just trying to help out. We’d better get going.” Mark nodded his head.

“Just don’t ever let that man back here again, and warn the others,” I said.

The apple vendor pulled each bill from one hand to the other as he counted them. I wasn’t sure if he heard me or not, or maybe he didn’t care. A couple thousand dollars might buy you a lifetime stealing permit at a farmer’s market. He was transfixed by the stack of money.

Mark rushed to Ralph and stuffed his wallet back in his jacket. He laughed and jogged to the street. I caught up in a second and we headed on our way. I took a deep breath and grabbed his hand this time. I couldn’t believe we’d actually done something with the stone that felt good. That scumbag Ralph had been stealing from those poor people for who knew how long and for only the thrill of it. What a sicko. I glanced back right before we passed the corner and saw Ralph moving and patting his jacket.

“Will he remember anything?” I asked.

“No, they usually don’t even remember the last few minutes before the stone.”

“I bet those farmer’s market people won’t forget.”

Mark smiled and swung my hand with his. “Where to now, m’lady?”

I squeezed his hand and pulled on it. “I bet we can use this second one at Mindy’s Café.”

“Are you trying to get me on a date?” he asked.

I looked away. I hadn’t thought of this as being a date. Maybe it was, but being with Mark and using the stones felt like we were on top of the world. We could go anywhere together and succeed. We just needed to create the right one for the right moment and maybe we could change things for the better, one apple thief at a time.

We jogged across the intersection to Mindy’s Café. People were bustling around the entrance and the waiting line looked as long as usual. I took the second stone from my pocket and pinched it between my fingers. This would be quick and easy, just some harmless fun.

“This should be good,” Mark said.

I jumped over the curb and onto the sidewalk. A few people were smoking outside, while more were crowded near the door holding their buzzers. I searched for a spot past the door. The waiting people parted to let a group leave the café. I used this opening and tossed the stone on the ground. It skipped across the sidewalk and onto the tiled floor of the waiting area. I lost sight of it and wondered if it wasn’t working. Mark had said it would crack after a few jumps.

Then I heard the first scream. I shot a look to Mark, but he kept his attention on the crowd. This wasn’t right; something was wrong. The moving throng of people turned toward the scream and I squinted, trying to find out what had happened. A young woman wearing flip-flops continued to scream and stumbled out the front door with one large, swollen leg. I stared at her face and recognized her. She was one of the Dolls Bridget hung with, Kerri. She made eye contact with me and the fear and pain in her eyes made me gasp.

She reached down, touched her swelling leg and fell over face-first onto the sidewalk.

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