Alchemist Adept (The Alchemist Book 4) Read online

  Alchemist Adept

  The Alchemist Book 4

  Dan Michaelson

  D.K. Holmberg

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Author’s Note

  Series by Dan Michaelson

  Similar Series by D.K. Holmberg

  Chapter One

  The steady drumming echoed through the city, a constant beating of drums that Sam had grown accustomed to over the last few weeks. It was a signal, a way for those who protected the city and defended against the threat of the Nighlan to ensure safety and stability. The drumming had been ongoing ever since the most recent attack and was an alchemy construct designed to alert others deeper in the city of a threat if one were to appear.

  Sam had come to feel that drumming deep within him.

  Tara tapped his arm, looking up at him. Her eyes narrowed, and he could see the question burning within them.

  “I don’t detect anything,” he said, keeping his voice soft. They stood outside of the Academy in a large courtyard framed by several different storefronts, not the least of which was Belianrash’s alchemy store. It was enormous. Its storefront loomed over everything else in this part of the city, a place that Sam had come to think of as helpful more than anything. At least for now. “You have to stop asking.”

  Tara performed a brief angulation, and the lines of the arcane arts pattern that she created flowed out from her. Sam could make out the distinct energy of the pattern and could even tell which way to nudge some of her lines so that they formed the pattern more easily. It wasn’t a difficult pattern for him to influence, which he suspected was part of the point. Tara likely intended for him to have that capability.

  “It’s just that when you look like that, it makes me think of what happened before,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. There weren’t many people out in the streets, just enough that he suspected they both should be careful. Neither of them wanted to draw any unnecessary attention to themselves or what they had been doing. Sam held onto the silver vrandal, feeling the loops that wrapped around his middle three fingers with narrow bands that stretched to the circular piece in his palm while tapping into the source as he tested for any sign of Nighlan influence. Tara used her arcane arts in a similar manner, though with the complicated pattern that would be unlikely to be detected by anyone outside of the Academy. There were few inside of the Academy that would have any ability to detect what she was doing, either. “I know that we haven’t found anyone in the city in a while, it’s just…”

  Sam glanced over to her then. She was tugging at her simple gray cloak, not the typical robes the Academy students wore. Neither of them came out into the city dressed in those any longer. Not only would it draw attention, but it also made it harder for them to maneuver. That, and it would raise questions when they did return to the Academy. Sam didn’t need to have Havash questioning the reason that he and Tara spent so much time outside of the Academy.

  “Those within the Academy are watching for anyone else who might threaten to betray us,” Sam reminded her. It was also for his own benefit. The Academy was supposed to be safe. It was supposed to be a place where students could come and learn about the arcane arts, or alchemy, and do so without threat of any danger other than the inherent risks of their own magic. In the days since the Nighlan had made their presence known, there hadn’t been any way to ignore the other threat. The drumming was evidence of that. “Let’s just go into the shop. I’m not exactly sure what it is that Chasten called us for, but we probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

  “I don’t know. He seems to think that we would be able to sneak out of the Academy. Why should we prove that we can so that we end up getting into trouble?”

  “If he knows, then—”

  Sam cut himself off as the door to the shop opened and the owner stepped out. Chasten was an older man, thin but still fit. He saw them both, his gray eyes narrowing slightly, his wrinkled brow creasing deeply, before he glanced behind them toward the Academy and shook his head.

  “I do hope the two of you understand that you aren’t supposed to be out of the Academy today. There are protections around the Academy that are designed to ensure we don’t have any additional infiltration,” Chasten said.

  Sam glanced back. “Well, seeing as how I was the one who placed many of those protections, along with Tara, we thought that we were given implicit permission to leave. Besides, we only came to see your shop. As you requested.”

  Chasten regarded Sam with a dubious expression. “But you have left the Academy other times that I have not requested.”

  Sam’s mind raced. How much did Chasten know about what he and Tara had been doing? “We’ve just been ensuring the safety of the city. It’s not like we’ve been leaving very often.”

  “Had I not spent any time interacting with you, Samran, I think I might have actually bought that deception, but I know enough to tell when you’re trying to slip something past me.”

  Tara stepped forward and smiled widely. “We would never have tried to pull anything over you, Chasten. You’re the head of our tower, so we’d have to get your permission, wouldn’t we?”

  Chasten frowned. “I suppose you would.”

  “And if Sam and I wanted to leave the Academy to ensure that the alchemical protections around the city were stout enough, shouldn’t we be able to do that?”

  Chasten’s face remained neutral. “Under different circumstances, I would argue that there are any number of skilled alchemists who would have the necessary capability. Under the current circumstances, however, I’m afraid that we do need Sam and his unique understanding of alchemy in order for us to ensure the protections are as robust as they could be.” He glanced down the street. “I suppose an exception can be made. Sam, in his role within the alchemy tower, will need to investigate the protections. And perhaps he shouldn’t go unaccompanied.”

  Was that why Chasten had called them out here? Did he know what they had been doing and wanted to give them permission? That didn’t seem like something that he would do.

  “He doesn’t go unaccompanied,” Tara said.

  “I didn’t say you, Ms. Stone.”

  Tara stiffened. “I can work with him,” she said hurriedly. “You know that the almanac is meant for both of us. You know that I have been training with him, and I’ve been studying alchemy, trying to learn as much as I can, but—”

  Chasten raised his hand, cutting her off. Tara seemed to fold in upon herself, her shoulders slumping, and her neck ending ever so slightly. Sam hated seeing her like that.

  “I really do better with Tara,” Sam said. “She seems to anticipate what I need better than anybody else. Besides, I don’t fully understand the angulation patterns of arcane arts as well as she does.”

  Chasten watched them both. “You need to learn to lie better,” Chasten said, looking over to Sam. “As we both know that you understand the angulation patterns better than anyone below even Ms. Stone’s level. Perhaps m
ore than most at her level. So I think your argument is invalid. Luckily for you both I am in a forgiving mood. We have gone several weeks without any evidence of pressure upon the protections, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t want to have them investigated for the possibility of another incursion.” He waved his hand. “The two of you may leave the Academy as you see fit. If you are caught by any other instructors, I will try to do my best to ensure that you aren’t sent out of the Academy for ignoring the rules.”

  “But you gave us permission,” Tara said.

  “You had better hope that I continue to give you permission.”

  “What do we have to do?” Sam asked.

  Chasten smiled at them, and as he did Sam realized that they had played into Chasten’s hands. All of this had been planned. He had known what they’d been doing and had called them out with some purpose.

  “For you to remain effective members of the alchemy tower, you are going to have to demonstrate more practical uses of alchemy than either of you have been attempting so far.” He waved his hand, then headed into the shop, leaving Sam frowning.

  “What is it?” Tara asked.

  Sam let out a heavy sigh. “He’s after something, though I don’t know what it is. And worse, I hadn’t even considered that part of serving in the alchemy tower.” He looked over to her. “There hasn’t been a first-year student allowed into the alchemy tower in a long time, but I’m going to be expected to perform the kind of alchemy that others who are in the tower understand. They can’t know about the almanac. They won’t have any way of using it. So I’m going to need to start demonstrating traditional alchemy, not the kind of alchemy that I’m learning within the almanac.”

  “I think you can manage,” Tara said.

  “I don’t know,” Sam said. “Traditional alchemy is basically an amalgam of arcane arts mixed with some elements of more complicated magic.” Not even magic, though. It was a mixture of different aspects of some of the more physical elements of their education. It involved drawing upon mathematics and biology and geology and many of the physical sciences. “I read about alchemy, but I haven’t invested any time in trying to perform that kind of alchemy.”

  Tara took his hand, squeezing it and shaking her head. “Trust me, Sam, this is something I think you can handle quite well. Besides, if there’s any part of that kind of alchemy that you can’t perform, you will have me there with you. Between the two of us, I’m entirely certain we can figure something out.”

  They headed into the store, with Sam following Tara. It was well lit. In any alchemy shop, lighting was one way to sell the product. Most of the lighting were alchemical creations. There were dozens of lanterns giving off different forms of light, though most of the light that radiated within the shop carried a soft orange or yellow hue to it, and none carried the greenish tinge that Sam had come to attribute to alchemy. Any greenish light came from the back of the shop, toward the work areas, where Chasten’s hired alchemists were employed.

  Sam found Chasten standing in front of a large cylindrical metallic object. He was tracing his hand along the surface of it. Chasten looked over to them.

  “What is that?” Sam asked, joining Tara and Chasten. There were markings along the surface of it that he recognized from many of the textbooks on alchemy that he’d read, and there was a significant runic pattern to them, which he had come to know was important. It seemed to be made of copper with some silver etched into the surface. The combination of the two metals was likely important for the creation as well. He traced his hand along the surface, finding it surprisingly warm.

  “A weapon,” Chasten said, shaking his head slightly. “Unfortunately, I have my shop producing far more of these than I ever thought that I would have to. There was a time when we only rarely made weapons.” He looked over to Sam. “The Academy provided the magical defense that was needed for all of Olway. With the Nighlan attack, though, even that isn’t going to be enough. We realize that we cannot be. We’ve been trying to increase our production, trying to ready additional defense since we know that the Nighlan have ways of undermining even the arcane arts.”

  “I’m not so sure that alchemy is going to be the answer,” Sam said. “Even if it is powerful like this.”

  “You can tell that it’s powerful?” Tara asked.

  “Well, these markings are from Thedel’s works, and he was known for many of his militaristic approaches to alchemy. The mixture of copper and silver would likely be for containment, and the overall shape suggests that it concentrates and augments that power into something more explosive.”

  Chasten snorted. “You have basically summarized some of my more complicated works. Do you know how many of my master alchemists that I have trained struggle with some of those concepts?”

  Sam shrugged. “I can see what you’ve created and can glean the intention behind it, but I can’t do much more than that. I don’t know that I have the creativity necessary to come up with anything like this.”

  Chasten nodded slowly. “That is one aspect of alchemy that many overlook. Within the arcane arts,” he said, glancing quickly around the shop, before seeming content that there was no one else there that might overhear, “there is something more regimented about the kinds of angulation that are taught. Learn this technique for this purpose, follow this pathway, algorithm, and you can perform various purposes. Alchemy is different. Inherently there is creativity to it. A rigid mind struggles. Oh, that’s not to say that somebody who is talented with alchemy won’t have the same ability to follow a recipe and create items. It’s just that to be a renowned alchemist, you need to have some flexibility, along with a desire for creativity.” He swept his hands around him briefly. “And, if I might add, a bit of flair. That’s how I managed to be successful.”

  That was Sam’s concern for himself. He had a quick mind and knew that he could memorize almost anything that he saw, but the challenge was finding answers for problems that arose. It involved creativity, and while Sam liked to believe that he had a certain fluidity of thought, he wasn’t sure that he was inherently creative.

  “What about this?” Chasten asked him, turning to one of the many tables that adorned his shop and lifting a small circular object that seemed to be levitating above a platform.

  The platform was made of stone, triangular in shape, and had carvings worked into the stone. Some of the carvings had pale white painted across them. As Sam brushed his fingers along it, he found it to be smooth. Bone, most likely. It was surrounded by stone and encased in a way that he wasn’t entirely sure how the alchemical creation had been created. There were no symbols, not like there were on the weapon, so he wasn’t sure how the circular orb levitated above it.

  “Magnetic,” Sam offered. “At least, it seems to be. I’m not exactly sure the purpose of the orb, though.” He reached for it and felt a hint of energy. To his eyes, it glowed with a soft greenish light. It was pale, barely bright enough that he could make out the hint of coloration, and it left him feeling slightly uneasy.

  Chasten tapped on his hand. “You won’t want to touch that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it is designed for a specific purpose. You might want to wear gloves when you handle it, as it is, unfortunately, another weapon. A very different kind of weapon. An emotional one.”

  Tara frowned. “You made an emotional weapon?”

  Chasten kept his face impassive. “How would you make one?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said, looking as if she were trying to figure it out.

  Sam frowned. It was an interesting puzzle. Emotions were not something that the arcane arts were designed to influence. The arcane arts were power that could be exerted upon the external world. The power came from inside of the user and could then be pressed outward so that power flowed to exert the intention of the user of the arcane arts.

  Sam had never thought about any sort of emotional influence. But as he stood near the orb, he was vaguely aware of the pressure upon him. It w
as unsettling. Why would it be that way? It was unsettling because of who he was. What he was.

  “Do you feel anything?” he asked Tara.

  Tara leaned toward it, getting her face close to the alchemical creation. Chasten shook his head slightly when she did. Angular lines began to form around Tara, a barrier that she intended to diffuse from her and toward the alchemical creation. As soon as she did, she jerked her head back, her jaw clenching, and her eyes narrowed.

  “That’s… awful.”

  “It can be,” Chasten said.

  “Why did you ask if I could feel anything?” Tara asked.

  Sam hadn’t tried any of his magic. He hadn’t tapped into the source, but he didn’t know that he needed to. At this point, he could feel the way that device pushed against him and detecting the slight unease that built within him as he thought about using the power from the source. “I can’t think of too many ways that emotional manipulation can work unless somebody or something is attuned to arcane arts or the source.” He studied the device, but even as he did Sam couldn’t make out anything that would help him explain how that even worked. “I can feel it, the same way you can, but not very strongly. I suspect that if we were to attempt to use too much power around it, we would find it incredibly unpleasant.”

  “Incredibly,” Chasten agreed. “And again, I am impressed you have identified it.”

  “I can feel it,” Sam said.

  “Without drawing upon the source?” Chasten asked.

  Sam nodded, and though he knew Chasten couldn’t use the power of the source, he and Chasten had talked about Sam’s ability enough that Chasten understood what it was that Sam did, even if he couldn’t draw upon the same kind of power. As far as Sam had been able to tell, none within the Academy could draw upon the same sort of power. The only ones who had been able to do so were gone.