Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2) (3 page)

“He’s not going to
lead
the squad, Wegnel. He’s going to train with us and eventually become a tracker. Edison says cats are in tune with certain environments that have alchemical properties applied,” explained Ethan, sitting down at the table. He picked up a few of the gears, suspecting they came from the broken gadget on the table. He examined them closely in an attempt to discover how they would fit in the casing next to him.

“Ah yes, Edison Rupert … what a good alchemist, he sure has his head on straight, unlike some other alchemists I know. You couldn’t ask for a better instructor, well except for me maybe, but I never got into teaching so much — more of an explorer myself. Starting to get older though, now,” muttered Wegnel.

“Ha, you’re not as old as your other self!” exclaimed Ethan, chuckling.

Wegnel knew he had been caught at his own game. He giggled and snorted. “Ah … you got me there, Ethan — think you’re starting to get the hang of things, you are. I always knew you would be great at figuring out the two sides of the Oroborus — has to do with astronomy of course … but you already know that, don’t you now?”

Just then a flash of brilliant light shot through the hut and a pale-faced Auren was seen running with his hands over his mouth. He darted by Wegnel and Ethan, jumping over the clutter on the floor.

“Be right back!” grimaced Auren as he shoved his way out the door of the hut.

“Don’t think
he’s
got the hang of it yet — just like his father, he is,” groused Wegnel. “I should go find that bucket,” he muttered, peering around the room.

“Do you mind if we hang out a bit? At least until Auren is able to compose himself — or do whatever he does out there,” added Ethan, rearranging the gears inside the device.

“He’s throwing up on my petunias is what he’s doing. I guess between him and his father, those flowerbeds have seen more vomit than I care to discuss. I don’t think the petunias appreciate those kinds of nutrients — no, no … I suppose not. But yes, stay as long as you like,” answered Wegnel, scratching his head. “Oh, where did I put that bucket now — I’m so disorganized, I am. And good luck with that darn gadget, I’ve been trying to fix that thing for a week now and—”

“Got it,” announced Ethan, handing the device to Wegnel.

“What?! That’s impossible, but … yes … you fixed it, indeed you did,” mumbled Wegnel as he took the gadget and inspected it thoroughly.

“Fixed what?” asked Auren, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. He grabbed the device from Wegnel and was just about to depress the trigger when Wegnel snatched it back from him.

“CAREFUL!” he yelled in agitation. “You want to lose an arm or something? I don’t have anything that would free you from this Aegis torture device, and I certainly don’t have any spare arms laying around.”

“A what?” exclaimed Ethan, bounding up from his chair.

“Watch, boys.” He placed the device on the coffee table with the trigger facing downward, pressed it down and jumped back quickly. A large metal net shot out, wrapping itself around the table. Its metal hooks snagged together at the bottom as it enveloped its wooden prey. A
ZIP
sound came from the contraption, followed by several clicks. The net instantly went taut around the table. The gears started to turn inside the device, pulling the net tighter, creating large grooves in the edges of the table.
CRACK
! The coffee table started to snap and crunch as splinters of wood shot by Ethan’s head. Soon there wasn’t anything left of the table and the invention ran out of net to pull through the gears. Several clicks were heard and the device finally stopped.

“What the….”

“Neat, huh?” bragged Wegnel, but soon his smile turned into a scowl. “But now I seem to have wrecked my coffee table, haven’t I … hmm … should’ve used a stick or something instead. Next time — I will most definitely use something else next time.”

“The Aegis made this?” asked Ethan, agitated at the thought of the torturous intention behind the gadget.

“Yes, of course, of course … haven’t you been paying attention? I thought you said you were getting the hang of all this!” challenged Wegnel.

“
I
didn’t say that,
you
said that,” grumbled Ethan. “That’s not the point — why would the Aegis have a contraption like this anyways?”

Wegnel picked up the device and frowned. “They torture people with these types of contrivances. They want to send a message to humans — to you. The Aegis don’t want us there — they don’t want
you
there, and it is quite certain that devices like this are meant to frighten anyone who would run into one.”

“Well, it worked,” stated Auren, who was still pale.

“I suppose it did, didn’t it?” replied Wegnel, looking troubled.

“Where did you get this thing, Wegnel?” asked Ethan.

“MacArthur sent it over … not sure exactly where he got it from though. Sometimes we just send stuff back and forth. A puzzle for me to solve, I initially thought. I’ll bet he thinks he’s smarter than me, he does — I still have a few tricks, I do,” bragged Wegnel. “Are you boys getting Loki and coming straight back or are you staying in town for a while?”

“We’re staying for about a day,” replied Ethan. “Then we’ll be back.”

Auren poked the torture device that was on the floor with his finger, taunting it to see what would happen. “Yeah, I gotta visit Mum … or she’ll get way upset — never hear the end of it,” he added, standing up.

“Yeah, speaking of that, we should get going,” said Ethan politely.

“Okay, I’ll see you out then. I need to call Ivy in anyhow. She’s most likely out hunting down wild beasts in the area — quite a ferocious animal, don’t you boys think?” Wegnel headed out the door of the hut with Ethan and Auren just behind. As Wegnel reached the bottom of the staircase he stopped suddenly and reached his hand around, grabbing his back.

“Oh no…,” said Wegnel desperately, writhing in agony. He turned and looked at Ethan and Auren as if to ask for help. His face became contorted and pale as he fell backward onto the ground.

“Wegnel!” exclaimed Ethan, running to his side.

“What’s wrong, Wegnel? You okay?” cried Auren, concerned.

“I’ve … been … stabbed,” whimpered Wegnel, his beady eyes looking desperately about.

“Where? I don’t see any blood … Wegnel, where?” exclaimed Ethan frantically.

“My other self … I’m in trouble … get help….”

“Auren, go get your father quick,” ordered Ethan.

“On it,” exclaimed Auren, immediately sprinting down the path toward his house.

Ethan ran inside the hut and came back out with the jar of green goop that Wegnel had applied to injuries so many times before. He fumbled with the lid until it popped off. He hovered over Wegnel, looking for an obvious wound he could apply the goop to. He shoved his hand into the jar, scooping out a modest amount. Remembering that Wegnel had grabbed his back before he fell, Ethan tugged on the alchemist’s arm to try and look for an injury.

“You’re not going to have any luck with that,” said a voice drawing near.

“What? Odin! He just sort of … fell — said he’d been stabbed, but I can’t see any wound,” replied Ethan with green goop dripping from his hand.

Odin had a small basket that he set down beside the weakened alchemist. He leaned in and had a look at Wegnel’s haggard face. “Are you alright, my friend?”

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” answered Wegnel softly. “Been stabbed … in the back … MacArthur, rather.”

“As I suspected — the green goop will not alleviate the injuries sustained. A report came through from Whitehaven that an assassination attempt was made on MacArthur,” said Odin quietly.

“How could they know already?” argued Ethan. He quickly realized what he had asked. “Oh — time difference….”

“Ethan, here boy,” interrupted Wegnel weakly.

Ethan leaned down and put his hand on Wegnel’s shoulder. “Yeah, Wegnel….”

“Not much time, I’m afraid,” murmured Wegnel.

Ethan’s eyes welled up and tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt helpless at the old alchemist’s side.

“There now, Ethan. Don’t be afraid — the Oroborus liked you so much, he made another just like you. It can’t be so bad after all now, can it?” asked Wegnel with labored breath.

“Isaac?”

Wegnel nodded slightly and motioned Ethan to come closer. “Most important, Ethan — there is another alchemist … fit to be with Dimon — a woman … in King’s Point … you must get her here.” Wegnel coughed and spittle flew out from his lips. Exhausted, he started to wheeze as he moaned in agony.

“That’s fine, my friend,” replied Odin. “You needn’t worry, we will get her here for you.”

Just then Ghislain and Auren approached, out of breath. Auren’s father stood towering over Ethan and Wegnel. Distraught, he knelt down next to the beady-eyed alchemist whose ramblings had always annoyed him so. “What’s happened then?” asked the burly man gruffly.

“I’ve been done in, you big oaf,” said Wegnel in a labored voice.

“What? Wegnel … what do you mean?” sputtered Ghislain while tears rolled down his rough face.

“Looks like I get the last word … after all, Ghislain,” chuckled Wegnel, “you were always my favorite.”

The night grew calm and silent. Wegnel looked up at the starry sky before his eyes rolled back. Ghislain cradled the alchemist’s head and soon after, his body went limp.

“No — get up you stupid, old … windbag — just need to get you to Whitehaven … Wegnel,” pleaded Ghislain as he held Wegnel’s lifeless body; but Ghislain received no answer.

Odin put a consoling hand on Ghislain’s shoulder. “I’m sorry … my friend.”

Ghislain sat in silence for a moment and then lifted Wegnel off the ground. “I’m bringing him to Whitehaven,” he stated as he wiped his eyes with one arm and carefully hoisted Wegnel over his shoulder.

“But, Ghislain…,” However, Odin knew there was no convincing the giant man that it was too late to help their friend. The same man that had been so abrasive to Wegnel in the past had grown unmentionably fond of the loony alchemist on the east side of town. Odin could see from the look on Ghislain’s tear-soaked face that there would be no persuading him. “…of course, my friend … may your journey be swift.”

Ghislain wiped the tears from his face again, turned, and headed into the darkness. Auren went and stood by Ethan’s side.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” answered Ethan. “I think so.”

“Boys,” interrupted Odin, “let’s go inside.”

The three of them walked up the rickety staircase that led to the door of the hut. A chubby black and white cat followed them up. It was Wegnel’s cat, Ivy. She rubbed against Ethan’s leg as he waited for Odin to get the door open. As they entered, Ethan fixed his eyes on the familiar chair sitting in the middle of the room. He walked over to the chair and ran his hand across the back. The roughness of the wood scraped over his fingertips as he traced the aged border that glowed when a person was traveling through the chair. Ethan then noticed that Dimon was on the table next to him, and not in the silk bag. The eyes of the mighty Oroborus were open, and its tail was free from enveloping jaws. The creature appeared as if it were ready to speak, for it looked more alert than Ethan had ever seen. The young alchemist inferred that Dimon must know what had happened to MacArthur in Tirguard. He thought the creature could be paying his respects, or maybe he was simply looking for a new alchemist to bind with.

“Ethan, sit down in the chair, we have to get you two going as quickly as we can,” ordered Odin.

“Going where?” asked Auren promptly.

Odin saw that the coffee table had been broken to pieces, so he placed his basket on the floor next to an end table. He quickly cleared off the end table, laid down a towel and pulled Ethan’s alpha cat from the satchel basket. Loki was mostly limp, compelling Ethan to rush to his pet’s aid. The cat’s mouth hung open and his eyes were shut. Loki’s breathing was erratic and occasionally he gasped for a breath.

“What’s going on, Odin? What’s wrong with Loki?!”

“This is going to be rather difficult to explain, Ethan,” answered Odin coolly. “Almost four years ago, I was hired to be your caretaker. It was shortly after your father had disappeared. The man that hired me told me he had been watching out for your well-being since you were born. He kept an eye out for things using a very strange practice — just as Wegnel bound himself to the Oroborus, this man bound himself to the Wright family cat, to Loki. In fact, the man who hired me isn’t a man at all — he’s a Mitan, and I think that Mitan may be in trouble.”

“Loka?” asked Ethan softly.

“Yes.”

“Loka and Loki? Did my
father
name the cat?”

“Yes, and because he—”

“He had such a bad memory — he named the cat Loki so he wouldn’t forget the connection between the two,” interrupted Ethan.

Odin ran his fingers through his beard and gave a calming smile. “Exactly,” he replied. “Your father had a terrible memory. He also had an obsessive disposition when it came to his profession as a mapmaker. I never understood how he could create such good maps, having not remembered where he was.”

Auren’s face contorted for a moment. “Oh, no,” he exclaimed. “Loka saw us put those toads in Margret Tanbe’s house!”

“No, no, Auren, it was more like if Loki sensed danger then Loka would feel that threat as well,” the old caretaker corrected as he looked over the feline.

Ethan comforted his cat but could perceive he was not well. Ivy jumped up on the end table, sniffed Loki and started cleaning the alpha cat.

“So what’s wrong with him then?”

“As far as I can tell, nothing. My suspicion leads me to believe that just as Wegnel suffers from MacArthur getting attacked — well, I fear something has happened to Loka Tattur as well. It may be that General Xivon is making his move — could be trying to eliminate your allies.” Odin thought for a moment. He started muttering to himself, as if contemplating his next move in a chess match. Odin approached the Oroborus slowly and spoke very politely to the creature. “Can you, Dimon — can you send us to Tirguard?”