Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2) (13 page)

BANG
! A loud explosion could be heard outside the Stadion, interrupting Red’s well-rehearsed speech. It shook the ground. The rumble was felt throughout the stands and even in the High Perch. Red fell backwards and grabbed the King’s armrest to prevent himself from toppling over. The crowd was in disarray as a commotion broke out, stirring up a contagious panic. Billows of black smoke polluted the horizon, looming over Tirguard.

As the mass of people started to rush for the exits, the King leapt from his seat and put his lips up to the copper device still strapped to Red.

“EVERYONE STAY CALM!” ordered the King. “Please go back and take your seats until we are finished investigating the disturbance. You will be safe inside the Stadion walls — I swear to you.”

The people started to calm, although a commotion of voices could still be heard. Most attendees, however, slowly made their way to seated positions throughout the Stadion.

“Castellan, create a perimeter around the Stadion — your number one priority is to protect these people,” ordered King Basileus. “They need reassurances — do not fail them.”

“Yy … yes, my Lord,” stuttered the Castellan.

“I will take my Royal Guard and investigate—”

“But, my Lord…,” protested the Castellan.

“I won’t have any arguments — now carry out your orders.”

As the smoke rose far above the city, the King seized his sword from one of his personal guards and headed through the archway.

Chapter 11
Odin the Mighty

Odin paced back and forth, occasionally pretending to hold the sword which was still stuck in the floor. He stepped over a chunk of wood that he had earlier removed from the corner of the table. The Oroborus was out of its silk bag. It seemed rather alert, even though its eyelids were closed. Odin walked up to the creature while scratching his head.

“I’ll bet you couldn’t foresee me binding with you, creature — such a man as me? I’ll bet you are purposefully holding my sword to the floor of this shack — aren’t you? Wouldn’t want to see me unleash my full potential — my greatness could challenge your reputation….”

He walked back to the sword and grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled as hard as he could. The sword remained firm in the floor. He grunted and heaved again, to no avail.

“BRIGAND!” he yelled, his voice echoing into the streets of the market district.

He sat and rested for a moment. But soon his patience wore thin and he stood again, determined to remove his sword from the floor of the alchemy hut.

“I will not rest, you infernal creature!” yelled Odin, pointing his finger across the room at the scaly Oroborus. “I am a great warrior — no challenge is too great for Odin the Mighty!” he boomed.

He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his crippled hand, which he spat on. He rubbed his hands together and took his best grip on the handle of the sword. With all his might he heaved and pulled. For a moment he thought the sword was starting to come out of the floor, but it was his own grip faltering. As the handle slipped through his hands, he careened backwards, crashing through the front door of the hut. He landed on his rear end on the front stoop, the door bouncing back to slam shut with a
crash
. The people in the streets stopped to stare at the commotion.

Embarrassed, Odin grabbed the railing and pulled himself up with a grunt. “BE QUIET OUT HERE! CAN’T YOU SEE I’M TRYING TO CONCENTRATE!” he groused as he pulled the door back open. He stared out at the mass of people, some of whom were now chuckling at his expense.

Suddenly a hooded man emerged from the crowd, stepped up the staircase and came face to face with Odin. Half his brow was covered with a mask. Odin gasped as he saw a hint of blue glowing from the side of the mask that was not held tight to the figure’s face.

“You…,” whispered Odin in disbelief, “are not supposed to be here.”

“Indeed,” replied the Mitan. He grabbed Odin’s robe and pushed him into the hut. Odin stumbled backward, crashing into the table next to the sword that remained fixed in the floor. He landed again on his backside but immediately pulled himself up as the Mitan drew back his hood. With long hair draping over part of his mask, the Mitan’s eyes were brilliant through the eyeholes that pressed against his face. He opened his black robe and pulled out a small, slim dagger.

“Challenge accepted,” said Odin, boldly. As he got to his feet he put one hand on the grip of his sword, pretending that he could easily remove it at any time. “But I will say, how very brave you must be to attack an alchemist who’s bound to the Oroborus — brave or incredibly stupid….”

“I see,” said the Mitan, pulling off his mask. A bold blue glow revealed the Mitan’s identity to Odin. “Then you know I don’t fear an old man with a sword — especially a man who pretends to be an alchemist, a man bound to the creature temporarily because no other option was available, a man who is not strong enough to remove his sword lodged in the floor. But I do confide — I respect your courage, and if you are strong enough to end my suffering, then I welcome it with all my heart.”

“You’re….” stuttered Odin, recognizing the Mitan’s face.

“I am,” replied the Mitan.

Odin jerked the sword back and forth to try and remove it from the floor as quickly as his arms could move. The Mitan cocked back his arm, aiming to throw the dagger at his opponent. With deadly accuracy, the Mitan’s swift throw cut through the air. Odin stumbled backward into the wall of the hut. The dagger came within millimeters of flesh, piercing his robe and fastening Odin to the wall. The Mitan was in disbelief that Odin was nimble enough to dodge his throw. Odin awkwardly began to remove the dagger from his robe. The Mitan charged across the room, violently grabbing Odin’s throat with one hand and reaching for the dagger with the other.

“You’re the first in many years to dodge one of my attacks,” grunted the Mitan as he clamped down on Odin’s throat. “Know that I give you respect as you slip into darkness. But you are an old man after all and you’ve had … enough time, in my world.”

With his throat collapsing, Odin panicked as he struggled for breath. He reached around to the side and felt a hard object resting on the table. He desperately got a firm grip, unable to see what the item was. He squirmed and choked as his face turned red, but was able to force out a few words. “If I recall … you’re much older than I.” He slammed the object into the Mitan’s head, sending glass shattering everywhere. The Mitan’s eyes were slathered with green goop. He released his grip on Odin’s throat but pulled the dagger from the wall at the same time. He took several steps backward, wiping the mystery paste from his eyes.

Odin grabbed his sword handle with one hand and it instantly released from the floor. He started toward the Mitan and, with his best form, took a mighty swing.

***

Auren and Abbey desperately carried Ethan through the city, with the chubby feline following hastily behind. Ethan had regained some consciousness as they made their way. Sideways glimpses of the city rushed past him. He saw a large gaping hole blown through the city’s great wall, with piles of rubble scattered inward. Members of the Guard lay injured in the streets, blood trickling from their wounds and futile weapons lying abandoned. The debris-filled square was in utter chaos. Sounds of broken screaming filled the courtyard; the stench of charred wood and burning flesh filled the streets.

Tears streamed from the Orobori’s face as images of injured guardsmen, women and children struggled to help themselves. Ethan knew of only one power that could obliterate such a great stone wall without regard for possible innocent victims that it may protect. And there was only one item that Ethan could think of that would tempt Xivon into the great stone city — the Mortuus Manus bracelet. He wanted to get up and find Xivon; he wanted to prevent the villain from ever hurting Tirguard’s people again. He struggled to move. His efforts were so weak that Auren did not even notice the Orobori’s attempt.

As seething smoke smoldered from multiple parts of the city, Auren and Abbey continued to march toward the hut. The group hurried into the market district and pushed through the panicked crowds. “MOVE IT!” yelled Auren impatiently as he used his great strength to force a way through the chaos.

Ethan’s body trembled. He opened his eyes and saw the market district. The Lippy’s sign flashed before him. They stopped for a moment and Ethan realized his hearing had been gone for some time. He felt his body jerk as Auren reaffirmed his grip in preparation to bring Ethan inside the hut.

Two bright flashes streaked out the windows of MacArthur’s hut. Ethan felt the sensation of stumbling backward, as if he were fading away. He tried to grab hold of Auren, tried to hold onto life. He struggled to hold his eyes open as he felt himself slipping away.

A pale young girl was kneeling outside the window. Her face looked sad, welled up with tears, yet calm. One eye was a beautiful hazel color that drew Ethan in, while the other was glazed-over, colorless and surrounded by a dark tattoo-like mark. Snowflakes rested in her short dark hair as her breath fogged up the window. Although she appeared to be Ethan’s age, she looked as if she knew something that Ethan did not. Fingers extended from her pale hand; she placed them on the surface of the window. Frost formed and crackled around her fingertips.

Ethan approached the window cautiously. His hearing seemed muffled. He momentarily looked down at his hands, wondering if he was in a dream or vision. His right hand had a hole in the middle of his alchemy symbol, where the arrow had passed through. The wound was black; the darkness seemed to course through his veins and up his wrist. He hesitantly reached the wounded hand forward and put it on the window. The girl mouthed a scream, but no sound came from her lips. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the frost that had formed on the window rapidly turned black. Ethan recoiled as if he had done something wrong. The window turned completely black, followed by the entire room. The young tattoo-eyed girl disappeared into darkness.

Chapter 12
A New Wegnel

“What in the Oroborus is goin’ on in here?” grumbled Abbey, perturbed. She pushed her way through the door to see a spectacle. Chairs were broken, green goop was splattered on the floor, books were tossed about, and an overall disaster had twisted its way through the hut.

“And who are
you
to ask me such questions?!” groused Odin in a tiff. “I just took care of one assassin — I can certainly take on more! Brigand!” he yelled.

Abbey motioned her hands, signaling Odin to calm himself. “Now just hold on — these things can get confusing — splitting yourself in two can be tricky business. You did a fine job binding with Dimon and filling in for Wegnel — I’m here to replace you.” She stepped over the clutter and tilted a chair upright.

“I don’t know you, lady … and I don’t trust anyone further than I can spit,” stated Odin, raising his sword.

“Well if you won’t believe me, then believe
them
,” she replied as Auren shouldered Ethan through the door and set him in the chair.

Odin threw down his sword and ran over to Ethan. “What happened? He alright?”

Auren shook his head. “Dunno — I mean, we think it’s poison.”

Ethan cracked opened his eyes. He saw Odin briefly and mouthed his name. The Orobori then started to mumble incoherently.

“Odin, listen very carefully — my name is Abbey Valisa. Ethan and Auren came and got me to replace you. You are currently aging thirty times faster on this side of the Oroborus. If you go much longer, you could die soon. Your mental capacity is not prepared — the sooner you merge back with yourself, the better chance you have — understand?”

“Good — sooner I get unbound to this
creature
, the sooner I can go track down this Xivon fella and close the book on this whole mess,” stated Odin bluntly.

Abbey thought for a moment. “Excellent,” she replied. She walked Odin over to the Oroborus, who was still out of its bag. “If you could, Dimon … on this side please?”

The scaly Orobrous nodded its head in agreement.

“Sit in the chair and present your hand to the creature … please,” she ordered.

Odin sat down in a huff. Eager to get the procedure over with, he gave up his palm. He eyeballed his one-time nemesis and nodded. “I know you kept that sword stuck in the floor, creature — you didn’t fool me for a second!” The Oroborus quickly sank in its teeth. The chair vibrated and shook, as if it phased in and out of time. The two Odins could be seen briefly as independent figures, and then slowly they merged into one body. Odin screamed. The Oroborus released its hold on the old caretaker, who fell to the floor. Grabbing his head in confusion, he rolled around over shards of glass while babbling nonsense.

“They’re coming!” he screamed, veins popping out of his withered old face. “No! The dark — the Northwind … SOMEONE HELP ME! Get me out of this sickness! It was me that threw the ground, I jumped and hid … getting this sword out of the floor — WHY?” he yelled. “YOU — I can’t….”

Abbey grabbed Auren and pulled him in close. “You need to get him to Nurse Helga, can you do that?”

Auren sighed in misery. After carrying two packs and Ethan around for the last couple of hours, he was now being tasked with carrying the old caretaker back through the chaos. “Well, yeah … but is he gonna be okay?” asked Auren, concerned not only about Odin, but about Ethan as well.

“Odin will be fine — only time will help him sort out his thoughts … but he’ll be fine. When you get to Helga tell her I need to counteract an unknown poison — tell her to send someone right away with those kinds of ingredients. This place is an absolute mess and it will take me a bit to organize anything of use,” she stated. When Auren didn’t move she got rather impatient. “Well … MOVE IT!”

Auren nodded and helped Odin off the floor. “Come on, Odin … let’s go.”

Odin, still mumbling nonsense, grabbed Auren’s shoulder and helped himself to the doorway. Before he exited, the old caretaker turned to Ethan, who was still unconscious. “I’m sorry, Ethan … so sorry….”