Kailin Gow - The Alchemists Academy Book 2

The Alchemists Academy

Elemental Explosions

Book 2

kailin gow

Elemental Explosions: The Alchemist Academy #2

Published by Sparklesoup Inc.

Copyright 2011 Kailin Gow

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Acknowledgements

T his is for Team Kailin : You know who you are. Youre the ones who help make the magic happen with me. Thank you!

Prologue

W irt dreamt that he was sitting in his room, acutely aware it was a dream. Only it wasnt his room. Not now. His room was the one at the Alchemists Academy that he shared with Spencer, his half of it a complete mess while Spencers was pin neat. This room was the one hed had in England with his last foster parents, Joan and Peter, decorated according to their idea of what a boy his age should have liked, and several years too young for Wirt as a result. There was the bed, the small desk, the wardrobe with the familiarly unexplained dents in the front. Not to mention the football themed wallpaper. Wirt hated football.

Without thinking about it, Wirt found himself wandering downstairs, a strange sense of excitement in his stomach. Somehow he knew, in that way you did in dreams, that it was Christmas morning, and that they would be waiting for him in the kitchen, ready to exchange presents. That was even more proof that this couldnt be real, because he had never actually done that with Joan and Peter. As with so many of the places Wirt had stayed, he hadnt been there long enough.

Sure enough, there were two figures waiting for Wirt in the kitchen. Only it turned out that they werent his familiarly ineffectual foster parents. A man and a woman, both pale and dark-haired, stood in the middle of the kitchen smiling at him. They seemed strangely familiar, and for a moment Wirt couldnt help noticing how much they looked like him.

Of course they do, he pointed out to himself then. What else would my parents look like? Wirt knew that they were his parents in the same way that a flower knows which way to turn towards the sun, with the curious certainty that you only ever get when youre asleep. That he hadnt known it a moment ago didnt seem to matter. Given that Wirt had never seen his parents when awake, he wasnt sure how he knew it now, either.

He handed over a couple of presents that he hadnt been aware of carrying, which turned out to be socks and a multicolored scarf when his parents opened them, suggesting that Wirt was every bit as bad at buying presents in his sleep as he was when awake. Even so, they smiled in a way that suggested that Wirt had gotten them exactly what they had always wanted. His interest increased when his mother held out a brightly wrapped and beribboned box, which Wirt held for a moment, staring at it. Hed never had this. This moment of anticipation when he didnt know what he was going to get, with his family looking on.

The moment didnt last long, and Wirt opened his gift in a shower of wrapping paper. His parents looked on, those same smiles present on their faces. He looked down into the box, only to see that it was empty. Or not quite empty. Inside was a square of paper, on which careful handwriting stood out clearly. Wirt picked it up and read the words Merry Christmas, beloved son. You cannot see, taste, or smell your gift, but you will know it when you feel it.

What? Wirt asked. I dont understand. Is this some sort of riddle?

His dream mother and father didnt say anything. They just smiled and stared at the box in a way that suggested that Wirt was missing something. Not knowing what else to do, Wirt reached down into it, searching it by feel in case there was something at the bottom that he might not have noticed.

There was. Wirt yelped as something closed around his wrist, and tried to yank his arm back. It didnt move, and as Wirt looked down, he saw dark fingers clasped on his arm. They werent just dark-skinned; they were absolutely black, as though carved from onyx or jet. They were as implacable as stone too, refusing to relinquish their grip as Wirt tried to jerk away.

Help me, he said to his parents, but they just shook their heads sadly, staring in that way parents had that told you that whatever was happening was for your own good.

The arm pulled at Wirt, and it pulled with far more strength than Wirt had ever experienced. He tried his best to brace himself against it, but slowly, inexorably, the hand drew him towards the box. That swirled with darkness now, and Wirt got the feeling that it was suddenly far deeper than it had been a moment ago.

He found out as the hand dragged him in, though how he fit into the box, Wirt wasnt sure. He only knew that he fell. Only after a second or two, he wasnt falling. He was walking along a tunnel instead. The walls were of natural earth, while huge tree roots showed up at intervals like roof beams and standing stones lined the walls, marks on them seeming to tell a story that Wirt could not understand.

The tunnel came to an end, and Wirt found himself in a cave. It was huge, and smooth, without the craggy outcrops of rock Wirt might have expected. There were no torches, but the walls seemed to glow with reflected light. It was one of those things that Wirt had come to expect. In the middle of the floor rose a stone slab, grey and imposing. Though perhaps not as imposing as the form of the armored figure laying on it.

As Wirt drew closer, he got a closer look at that figure. He was a young man, broad-shouldered and blond, wearing a mixture of plate armor and chainmail, marked with the insignia of a dragon and a crown. Wirt knew the crest marked him as not just another knight, but a royal knight.

The other young mans eyes flickered open, focusing on Wirt. It seemed to take him a moment to gather himself, as though the knight had been asleep for a long time. How long, Wirt could not be sure, but he couldnt help noticing that the armor had cobwebs on it in thick layers around the joints. The royal knights gaze was direct, and something about it told Wirt that this man was used to people following his commands. No, not something about the gaze. Something deeper.

Merlin, the man on the slab said, looking at him.

What? Where? Wirt looked around, and then looked down at himself. He wasnt wearing anything that he would normally have chosen. Instead, he was wearing some sort of robe, an almost silken grey, edged with silver lettering that he couldnt read. It looked like the sort of thing one or two of the teachers at the school might have worn, though even most of them seemed to prefer more modern things than this.