Alchemist Academy: Book 2 (3 page)

I couldn’t talk if I wanted to. In fact, I feared if we kept up this pace, I’d end up vomiting. We’d been running for at least a mile when Mark turned another corner and started gaining ground in front of us. He wasn’t going faster, but we were definitely going slower. My legs burned and my hurried breaths started to sound as if I might be in real need of a doctor.

He looked back and stopped. We finished the distance to him. I bent over and tried to find my air. Jackie matched me and looked up at Mark.

He patted our backs. “It’s okay, we’re here.”

“Where’s here?” Looking up, I saw a boy behind the glass door of a bakery. He flipped its Closed sign to Open and unlocked the door.

“You kids okay?” the guy asked, holding the door open.

“Is Jerry here?” Mark asked.

The guy laughed. “He’s the baker. Sometimes I think he lives here. Come on in.”

Mark turned to us. “He’s a friend of my mom’s. She told me to come here. Let’s go.”

The smell of bread and sugar filled the inside of the store. Summerford had a cake shop, but this place displayed loaves of bread, muffins, multi-colored donuts, and an assortment of croissants.

My stomach rumbled, but I kept my attention around the store. The guy who’d let us in appeared to be the only person in the shop.

“Jerry,” he yelled. “You got a customer up here asking for you.”

The back door swung open and a heavyset man wearing a white apron stepped through. He wiped the flour from his hands and took us in. He wasn’t wearing any stones that I could see, but that didn’t ease my discomfort at being in such a small area. If they were dark alchemists, we would be defenseless.

Jerry set the towel on the glass counter and walked around it. “Who are you? You look familiar.” He looked at Mark.

“You know my mom, Sarah Duval.”

His eyes went wide and he glanced at the guy who’d let us in before returning to us. “Come back here, quickly. Oscar, turn the sign over and lock the door.”

“But our rush hour is coming up. We need the sales—”

“I don’t give a damn. Close it up.”

Oscar had more to say, but he took a deep breath and mumbled the rest as he walked to the front door. Jerry motioned for us to come to the back of the store with him.

I passed a section of cupcakes perfectly lit in the glass display. Some had swirls of frosting and were decorated with edible sugar flowers or glitter. Maybe just one. . . . The running and hiding were starting to catch up to her and just a moment of relaxing made her feel the exhaustion. Or maybe the adrenaline was all gone.

“Come on, Allie,” Jackie said.

I bounced at her command and glided away from the cupcakes.

Huge mixers and long stainless steel tables filled much of the back room, while the rest of the space was ovens, as tall as the ceiling. The smell in the store was faint compared to the powerful smell of sugar and bread in the back. My nostrils filled with the fantastic odors and I enjoyed it while it lasted. Soon my nose would be overloaded and I’d lose the smell.

“What are you doing here? What happened?” Jerry asked.

“We were forced to stay at some academy,” Mark said. “But I don’t think it was anything like the place you and my mom attended. They pitted us against one another, and only cared about having us create stones for them. We barely got out with our lives.”

Jerry rubbed his hand over his mouth and looked past Mark. “I’ve heard rumors that they started an academy like that, but never thought it was real.” He gave a humorless laugh and his large double chin shook. “I’ve even heard the Intrepid were trying to break into it.”

“The Intrepid?” I asked and walked closer to him.

“Just a rumor, miss.”

Mark stepped forward. “Sorry, Jerry. I’ve been rude. I’m Mark, this is Allie, and back there eating your apple-cinnamon muffin is Jackie.”

“Sorry,” Jackie said around a mouthful. “This is so good.”

“No problem. Feel free to help yourself.”

Could’ve said that back at the cupcake utopia,
I thought.

“Jerry,” Mark said. “My mom set up some protocols with you, correct? We need a way out of the city and to the rendezvous place.”

“Of course,” Jerry grumbled. “Oscar.”

Oscar pushed the door open in an instant. “Yes.”

“I’m going on a delivery with these kids. Man the shop while I’m gone. And don’t burn the croissants.” Jerry pulled his apron off and hung it on the wall. “I have a box truck in the back. I’ll get you to where you need to go.”

The thought of leaving the shop was bittersweet. I wished I was as bold as Jackie, grabbing what I wanted without asking. Even after he’d given us his blessing, it felt wrong to take from him.

“Can we grab a few things for the road? We haven’t eaten in a while,” Jackie asked.

“My bakery is yours. But be quick and meet me in the back.”

Two invitations were enough to calm my anxieties of imposing on him. “Thank you,” I told him.

Once I had what I wanted, a blueberry muffin and a loaf of sourdough bread, we left his shop through the back door. The morning sun had risen enough to light up the streets.

Jerry slid open the back of the box truck and motioned for us to get in.

“Can we trust this guy?” Jackie whispered to us.

“Yeah, my mom vouched for him.”

“It’s only a couple of hours’ drive from here. I’ll have you out of the city in a jiff,” Jerry said.

I used the step ladder and climbed into the back of the truck. A few pallets of flour, sugar, and other unmarked bags filled much of the space. Mark and Jackie climbed in behind me.

Jerry grasped a strap. “Stay near the front of the truck and sit down. You try walking and you’ll be bouncing around back here like a jumping bean.”

“You know where to go?” Mark asked.

“I do,” Jerry said. “I’ll get you guys there, but if for some reason we’re stopped, stay low and hide. I don’t need to get a ticket on account of you all.”

“We’ll keep hidden,” I said.

“Okay.” Jerry pointed to the end of the box truck. “You can grab some flour bags for a seat or whatever. It might save your buns. It’s going to be a long drive and this thing ain’t got the shocks it used to.”

Mark knelt down and extended his hand to Jerry. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to do this, and we appreciate the help.”

Jerry shook his hand and laughed. “The hell I didn’t. Can you imagine what your mother would have done if I said no? It’d be worse than if Axiom himself was after me.”

Mark gave me a quick glance with wide eyes.

Jerry caught the look and raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone after you all?”

Mark took a deep breath. “A man with bright blond hair and a pointy face almost got to us a few miles back.”

Jerry’s lips pursed and he closed his eyes. “Axiom. You kids are in way deeper than I wanted to jump.” He looked at the top of the gate on his truck and I saw the wheels turning in his head. I doubted that he would have let us into his truck if he’d known who was after us. At least now we had a name to put to the face.

“Is he dangerous?” I asked.

Jerry let out a long breath. “Better you don’t ever find out. I’ll feel better when we get a few miles behind us.” He pulled the gate closed and latched the lock.

A couple of lights lit the interior of the box truck. With the door closed, the flour smelled dry and the dust settled into my eyes. I wiped them and looked to Mark. He stared at the door.

“I think we can trust him,” I said.

Mark shook his head. “I don’t think we have a choice at this point.”

The truck jolted forward and I fell to the floor. Mark tumbled and fell between me and the pallets. The pallets jostled a tad but were held in place by large straps.

Mark lay on the floor next to me with his feet in the air. He looked at me with a big smile and laughed. His laugh was infectious and I caught it in a second.

“He told us to sit down,” Jackie said from the front of the truck, “not go all romantic comedy up in here.”

Mark gave me a wink. “Come on, cupcake, let me help you up.”

We made our way through the truck, wobbling, and sat next to Jackie. We were still laughing as we fell down. The truck made a sharp turn and the pallets slid a few inches.

“You think we can make some stones with this stuff?” I pointed to the bags of flour and sugar around us. There were even a few buckets to mix stuff in.

“We need a solvent,” Jackie said. When she looked at my confused face, she added, “Like water.”

“Oh,” I said, taking inventory again and only seeing dry ingredients.

“I’ve heard of alchemists using their own pee for a solvent. You know, in a pinch,” Jackie said.

“Gross. We are
not
making pee stones,” I said. The thought of mixing up a bucket of pee gave me the willies.

Mark’s smile faded as we crawled next to Jackie. He pulled a couple of bags from the pallet near us and set them on the floor for a makeshift seat. The truck bounced and turned, but I kept a wide stance and didn’t fall this time. Mark plopped down on the flour and let out a long sigh.

“We’re going to be okay,” I told him.

“I shouldn’t have used that stone. There are treaties and stuff here. If that guy, Axiom—or whatever his name is—gets to us, we could be in a whole heap of trouble.”

“Jerry will get us there,” I said, even though I didn’t know where he was taking us.

“You guys don’t get it. We’re in dark central right now, and we don’t have a single stone to use for defense.” He pulled his knees closer to his chest and shook his head.

“What are you not telling us?” I watched him closely and waited for the bad news building over his face.

“I know the name Axiom,” he finally said. “I didn’t think it could possibly be him. What would be the chances of it being him?”

“I don’t know, one in a million?” Jackie said in sarcastic tone. “Just tell us what we’re up against here.”

Mark glanced at Jackie and then to me. “I’m quite confident he let us go. I’m not sure why, though.” He turned to face me. “A man like him carries stones to take down entire buildings. At any moment he could have killed us, but he refrained.”

I remembered the man yelling in a mixture of amusement and insanity,
I see you
. Now that he’d seen us, did that mean he was a hound dog on the trail? “You think he can find us?”

“Yes, but I think if we can get ahead of him, we have a chance. We need to get out of this city.”

“Then where?” Jackie asked, and I had the same question.

“I’m not sure, but I know my mom will have a plan. She’s been dodging all sides for a long time. This is what she does.”

An hour passed as I grilled Mark about the dark, and anything else he knew about the hierarchy of alchemists. He didn’t know as much as I wanted, and it turned out Axiom was more of a boogeyman’s tale to scare young alchemists. There were leaders, but apparently they changed often as one grew weaker in power, or was killed off. Mark had no idea about who led what faction anymore. His mom had stopped talking to him about alchemy once she’d learned he couldn’t make a stone.

With each piece of information Mark gave, even the vaguest tidbits, the alchemy world grew exponentially around me. At one point, I’d thought I was near the top of the food chain, since I could make any stone set in front of me. But now I was aware of how very little I knew. I felt small and insignificant again, and the feeling made me want to get to my mom even more.

“You think your mom can find her?” I asked Mark.

“Who?”

“My mom.” It was the first time I’d mentioned her since we’d left the Academy, but every second she consumed my thoughts. If I didn’t start talking about it, I might burst.

“I don’t know. She’s better at avoiding people.”

“She found me.”

“That she did. I think she’ll at least know who would know where your mom is.”

The idea of making progress toward my mom sent my spirits soaring. I beamed back at him with a big smile.

“She’s not going to be the person you remember from your childhood,” Jackie said.

I gritted my teeth. “She’s my mom. I don’t need her to be anything else.”

“Bullshit.”

“What do you know?” I fumed. The truck bounced and I grasped the stack of flour bags next to me.

Jackie took a deep breath and looked away. “They never are, you know? They put on a face for us, but once they scrape the makeup and the plastered smile off their faces, they’re just as sick and demented as the rest of the world.”

“How would you even know?” In every memory of my mom, she loved me and I loved her. We were happy.

Jackie laughed. “I would know because I was once in your very shoes. My mom left me as a child as well—though I didn’t have the benefit of her faking her death. No, she just left me at a park one day and never came back.” She glanced over to me. “I spent eight years conjuring cockamamie reasons as to why she’d left me. I put her on a pedestal as I bounced from foster home to foster home, recalling every fun moment we’d had. It wasn’t until later that I started thinking differently.