Alchemist (12 page)

She lost
consciousness for a period of time. How long she did not know – but
she awoke to her chest exploding as she was struck by a cat-o-nine
tails. She screamed inhumanly, flexing forward against the
resistance of her chains. She looked down in horror at her bleeding
chest – the oozing lacerations glistening in the poor firelight.
She cried in horror as much horror at what she saw. They had peeled
sections of her armour off, exposing the skin beneath.

Craning back her
head she screamed – a piercing cry that rang off the rocks and
caused the men to recoil. When it finally stopped the man with the
whip moved forward again, twisting it in preparation to strike
again.

Then
came
the answer.

All eyes turned to
the pitch sky as a roar rang out across the landscape. Then there
was silence. The men looked at one another, their expressions set
into question as to what horror lay out there.

Then out of the
dark the nightmare came. The Alchemist roared as it ripped the men
to shreds with teeth and claws. Terry’s vision grew dark.
“Father...”

The One and Future
Queen

Terry awoke to
find herself covered in a tangle of wires. She tried to move, only
to wince and give up when a stab of pain burned through her left
shoulder. She twisted her head to get a better look at the wound
but the damage was concealed behind the wreath of cables. Only when
she looked down did she discover the true extent of the coverage.
The mass of wires had found their way between every plate of her
armour.

“You should not be
trying to get up.” said a familiar voice from behind her.

Terry twisted her
head to see him, but a stiff neck prevented her from looking very
far. Gritting her teeth in pain, her head dropped back onto the
pillow. Finally her father walked into view by her side.

“Dad...” She
muttered, forgetting herself and trying to reach for him. “Argh!”
She flopped back.

“I told you not to
get up.” He said, but not unkindly. He took her hand into his,
squeezing the soft flesh of her fingers and palm against his.

“What happened?”
she asked.

He appeared
surprised. “Do you not remember?”

“I remember
pulling a dart out of my neck and I remember being tortured...” she
muttered, the words coming raspy from out of her raw throat. She
swallowed. “But I don’t remember anything after that...”

“I heard your
cries.” Her father replied, his eyes glistening with tears. “You
were in such a state when I found you.”

Terry closed her
eyes. “I’m sorry.” She said, beginning to cry.

“It’s alright
little one, don’t cry.” He said, cupping her cheek in his hand.

“I’m sorry I ran
from you.”

“It’s alright,
we’ll discuss it later but for now I’m just glad to have you
home.”

Terry laughed, as
tears came unbidden down her face. “I never thought I’d see you
again.”

Her father
squeezed her hand and smiled. “I would never have let that happen.
I would have come and bought you home at some point. Many times
over the years I almost have.”

“And risk war with
the Southlands?”

Her father’s
expression suddenly grew darker, a look she only saw when he was
raging with fury, a look she had not seen in years. “Yes.” He said,
unapologetically. His gaze drifted off to something in the
distance. “I grow tired of their politics and their constant
insistence on telling me on how I should live my personal life
despite the fact that I have spent years staying out of their
affairs.”

A sense of alarm
shot through her. “What have you done?”

His gaze
fell to her. “Nothing.
Yet
.
But once the senate hears of your return they will likely demand
your deportation and if it comes to that the answer will be
no.”

Terry’s eyes
started darting around in every direction like she had lost
something.

Her father looked
worried. “What?”

“
Lyle?
Connor? Are they okay?”

He relaxed
and she knew they were well before he even spoke. “They’re fine,
they’re all here.” He looked away for a moment, his vision growing
dark once again. “And I see
your
uncle has caught a disease off one of those human whores he
was intent on mating with.”

Terry’s face
screwed up in disgust. “I didn’t need to know that. Is that really
the sort of thing you two like to talk about the first time you’ve
seen each other in nine years?”

Her father
scoffed. “I didn’t
need
to ask
him I could smell it like I can smell those sweaty humans off
you.”

She looked
surprised. “Really?”

Her father looked
disappointed. “I see spending so long with those parasites has
dimmed your sense of smell.”

“I don’t envy you
in the slightest.”

“You’re also
looking a little thin. Have you been eating enough?”

“Yes.” She said
without hesitation.

But her father
remained unconvinced. “Really? You know you would be healing faster
if you had more meat on your bones instead of me having to do
this.” He lifted one of the cables from the floor. Unlike the other
grey ones attached to her, this one was clear and feeding a thick,
dark pink fluid into her stomach.

Terry looked up,
spying the cables vanishing over the back of the bed she laid on.
“Who am I attached you?” she asked, the question only now crossing
her mind.

“Me.” He said,
turning to reveal the long twisting lengths of cabling running out
of his back and side. He carefully sat down on the side of the bed.
“It unsettles me that you cannot sense me.”

She flushed with
guilt. “Sorry.”

That made him
smile. “There will be plenty of time to talk later little one, but
for now, sleep.” He said, leaning forward and kissing her lightly
on the forehead.

“I can’t we have
to get going. There’s...” she trailed off as her eyes rolled back
up into her head and her eyelids closed – a result of her father
releasing a chemical into her bloodstream.

******

Terry jerked
awake. Sitting up her hands went straight to her stomach, but all
the wires that had covered her earlier were gone. So was her dad.
Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, her left side
protested. She took a hand to it, pressing against stiff
muscle.

“Dad?” she asked.
When no answer came she got up, struggling to her feet at first.
Finding her balance she went to seek him out.

Her search led her
to the Grand Hall of the underground colony. She could hear the
voices of debate echoing off the stone walls long before she
arrived. As she approached the hall she encountered two primeval
Alchemists engaged in conversation outside the large entrance to
the hall – the first living creatures she had seen since she had
woke up.

Spying her, the
two of them broke off and resumed position, bowing their long necks
in respect. Terry waved them to continue. The pomp of being a royal
was something she had not missed in her time away.

The Grand Hall was
a large, naturally occurring cavern of great size. It was more than
fours the size of a football stadium, with a vaulted ceiling
standing nearly three hundred feet high. Tunnels filtered out close
to the ceiling, creating a 360 circle of viewpoints for members of
the colony to gather and watch when there was no space on the
generously sized floor. Today was one of those days. There was no
decoration save the king’s throne below the far wall, which
commanded the hall. It was a simple structure, a pewter coloured
stone chair, sitting upon a raised stone dais carved from the rock
of the cave itself. Behind it a large tapestry, easily forty feet
in length hung from the wall, its dark reds and gold striking
against the sand stone it adorned; emblazoned upon it, the family
crest.

Terry had to push
her way through the press to get a view of the throne. The hall was
full to bursting point. Some protested at being jostled, even with
her apologies, but those who did so quickly muttered for
forgiveness once they saw who she was and made way. A couple of
children who did not recognise her made a fuss, only to be scolded
and pulled back by their parents. Terry found a spot where she
could see. After a minute or so she felt a pair of eyes burning
into her. She faced the woman, which was even more frightening than
seeing her out of the corner of her eye. The woman stared in
unwavering amazement, eyes unblinking. That’s what scared Terry.
She had never seen anyone go so long without blinking. “Will you
please stop doing that? You’re making me feel uncomfortable.” She
muttered. Abashed, the woman lowered her eyes to the ground.

There was a
large clearing in the centre of the hall, where a lanky man in
robes was speaking. It didn’t take long for Terry to realise what
was being discussed, or rather,
who
was being discussed.

“Can my lord
please give us his word though that there will be no war? While we
are all elated to see the return of the princess some of us are
also fearful that her return will lead to conflict.”

Terry
glanced to her father. She could tell even from the distance that
he was not in a good mood. He took a long time to answer. When he
finally did, he rose from his high backed throne. “My daughter, the
heir to my empire and your future queen will
not
be sent away again.” His voice rang through
the high arches and off the walls and every corner of the Great
Hall.

The councillor
turned pale. “But my lord, please, this would not be a good
political move.”

“I grow sick
to
death
of your politics!” He
shouted, storming toward the councillor, his red and gold trimmed
robes billowing behind him. He stared down at the smaller man, his
gaze unforgiving. “Tell me councillor have you lost your backbone?
It was not fifty years ago that you were one of my blood thirstiest
warriors, now all I see standing before me is a coward!”

Visibly shaken by
the outburst the councillor struggled to find his words. “Forgive
me my lord...but I am only thinking of the safety of the colony. I
am only repeating what the people have said.”

“Puh.” Terry
muttered. But the silence of the hall carried her voice further
than she had intended and everyone heard. She instantly regretted
it.

All eyes fell on
her and those who had not noticed her standing among them stepped
back, dipping their heads in respect and muttering apologies to
their future leader.

Terry looked at
her father. The anger seemed to drain from him as he laid eyes on
her. He stepped down from his throne and the throng parted like a
tide of people. Reaching his daughter he offered his hand, which
she took. With a faint smile on his lips, he led her back to the
throne.

As they passed the
shaking wreck in the robes she stopped and turned to him.
“Councillor Dewlen, I don’t believe a word of what you’ve just
said. And you haven’t a changed a bit after nine years. You’re
still making things up just for your own benefit. I’m actually
surprised no-one’s killed you.”

Flabbergasted,
Dewlen simply stared at her, open jawed. Walking past him, Terry
went to join her father.

The King took her
hand, smiling at her with the love only a father could have for his
daughter. Turning back to his people, he held up her hand for all
to see. “The future queen has returned!” He shouted, his voice
carrying around the Great Hall.

After a moment the
cheers began, followed by the cries of the primeval Alchemists.
Soon the stones rumbled under the noise of twenty million ecstatic
Alchemists, not just the ones in the Great Hall, but throughout the
entire underground city.

Smiling at his
little girl, the King waited for the clamour to subside before he
dismissed everyone.

Resuming his
throne, the King waved Lyle over from the edge of the dissipating
crowd; Terry had not spotted him when she had entered. He gave a
slight bow and came over to join them.

Spying councillor
Dewlen still hovering at the foot of the dais the King said, “Get
out of my sight if you want to live another day.” Without
hesitation the small man scurried away.

Once he was gone,
the King rose and held out his arms to Terry. “Daughter.” The two
embraced, a moment they had not shared in years. “Dad...” Terry
whispered, clutching him dearly. “My heart, my blood, my metal and
my soul have returned to me.” He muttered.

A roar echoed
through a cavernous hole in the ceiling high above the throne. All
eyes gazed upward as large limbs forced their way through the
narrow tunnel, gripping the edges with claws the size of machetes.
The alchemist then pulled its body through, easily twenty five feet
in length. Unlike its brethren this one had a slight teal colour to
its skin – the mark of a king. Studying them all with fearsome
yellow eyes, he carefully lowered himself down to the floor.

“I was wondering
where you were.” Terry said, looking between her human-shaped
father and the primeval Alchemist.

The human one
smirked while the other gave a low growl, before nearly knocking
her over as he attempted to nuzzle her with his large, powerful
head. Terry rubbed his snout as he pushed against her again,
forcing her to hold on so that she was not sent flying.

Her human dad
turned his attention to Lyle. “General.” He said, coolly.

“My Lord.” Lyle
said dutifully, bowing.

The King waved his
words away, clearly irritated. “Why were you two running from
me?”

Lyle gazed at
Terry, who looked just as shocked that the King had bought the
matter up so bluntly.