The Alchemist Chapter 24

 

Chapter 24

Wile sniffed the camera. “It smells of chemicals,” he said.

“I used a lot of plastic in its construction,” I said. “That must be what you’re smelling.”

“Plastic?” said Wile. “Is that the new material I’ve been hearing rumors of?” he paused. “I did not expect you to be its creator.”

“Well, I didn’t really create it. More of, recreated it.”

“What else have you created?” said Wile.

I pointed to a bookshelf filled with scrolls and fine-bound books. “I created a device that can recrate books and manuscripts at an industrial scale. We can at the moment produce about one hundred full-sized books per week.”

“A hundred!” said Wile. He turned to Disc. “Can you believe this lad? He says he has a method to create a hundred books in a week. Full sized-ones at that!”

“Take me and my camera back to Brownfield,” I said, “And I’ll give you a tour of our works.”

Wile snorted. “I am too intrigued to refuse. Just know that, if you are lying, death will be the least of your concerns.” He shifted, standing up on his feet. “I’m too excited to sleep on it. Let’s go as soon as possible.”

“My camera,” I said. “I’ve removed the celluloid negatives, but they won’t last long being flown through the air. Do you have some sort of box that won’t let in light?”

Wile rooted through his treasure pile, eventually pushing a small, ornate chest over to me. “This will do,” he said. “It’s been blessed with the ability to protect whatever is inside it from damage.”

I carefully moved the photo negatives from the camera to the chest, closing it with a gentle touch. The chest, when lifted, was about ten pounds. I looked at Wile. “How am I going to get back to Brownfield?” I asked.

“You will be one of the few who have been given to honor to ride a dragon,” said Wile. He lowered his back, which was crested with a bony ridge. “Get on. I’ll carry your camera with my claws.” He gripped the pieces of wood that supported the camera.

“How are you going to get into Brownfield?” I said. “They’d kill you if you came in your dragon form.”

“I’m not worried about that,” said Wile. “I will be turning into my human form in a clearing to the city’s south. I’ve done this before. Do not fear.”

I climbed onto Wile’s back. “I trust you,” I said.

Wile chuckled. “Try not to trust a dragon too easily,” he said. “You’re lucky that a dragon’s curiosity is second only to its greed.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said. I looked at Disc and Rote. They appeared to be conversing in draconic. “Are they coming?” I asked.

“No,” said Wile. “They have been rather timid ever since they lost three of their kin in a year.” He turned towards the entrance. “We shall be off.” He jumped into the air, and then we were airborne. The wind pulled at my hair and got in my eyes. The ground below was so far beneath me that I couldn’t process its distance. There were no patchwork farms, just a long desert tracked with the trails of the nomads who lived in that barren world.

We left the desert behind. At one point, I sighted a dragon hunting ship in the distance, and we took a detour to avoid being fired at. We crossed several mountain ranges that I recognized from my trip here on the dragon hunting ship.

The city of Brownfield appeared on the horizon. Wile landed us in a clearing about ten kilometers from the city, at a distance where the guardsmen at the towers would not see us landing. The camera was set down with gentle ease.

I slid off of Wile’s back. We were sitting in a small village, long deserted. A couple of horses were meandering around a large pen. Wile’s body shimmered. His scales changed color like the setting of the sun. His size appeared to be changing, and then was actually changing, shrinking down to the size of a medium-weight human being. He had red hair, fair skin, and blue eyes.

“Does the color of your hair and eyes have anything to do with your draconic form?” I asked.

“No,” said Wile, brushing back his locks. “I just like this color.” He turned towards the horses. “There is a cart here that we can put your camera device inside of.” He disappeared behind a building and returned pulling a cart.

“This is how I transport my treasure to and from the Brownfield auction,” he said.

“You go to auctions?” I said.

Wile chuckled. “Yes. Did you truly think a dragon would be able to find all the specific objects they want purely through plundering?”

“I guess,” I said. “I never really thought about it.”

“Well, the auction at Brownfield is famous for having very rare collectors’ items. They are the kind that a dragon could not easily find by plundering randomly.”

“Why don’t you just steal the items from the auction?” I said.

“Then it wouldn’t happen anymore,” said Wile. He paused for a moment. “Do you realize the significance of the color of a dragon’s scales?”

I shook my head. “No,” I said.

“Then it seems like you don’t know everything,” said Wile. “I am a noble gold dragon. My alignment is with the gods of good, not of evil.”

“Um, okay?” I said. “But don’t you still steal things?”

“Good is relative when it comes to dragons,” said Wile. “I try to steal and kill as little as possible. But I am still a dragon.” He paused. “I must say, however, that everyone I kill, I have a reason for killing.”

“So you’re, um, a vigilante?” I said.

“I don’t know what kind of a person you have to be to call a dragon’s righteous wrath “vigilante,”” said Wile. He chuckled. “But I do understand where you are coming from.” He opened the pen holding the horses and hitched the wagon up to the beasts. He them picked up the camera—with one hand—and placed it with care on the wagon, on top of a layer of cloths. It was well insulated. After all, this was the wagon Wile used to transport priceless treasures.

I got on board, next to Wile, and we started heading down the path towards the city of Brownfield. At first, we didn’t meet very many people. Then a couple of farmers came onto the road, and then we were in the middle of a large knot of traffic. It appeared that a cart had lost its axle and was stuck further up the road.

“Eh, what’s that?” said a passing farmer, pointing to the camera.

“It’s a technological device,” I said.

“Technowhowhat?” said the farmer.

“A functional device,” I said. “Something that does important stuff.”

“Eh, me,” said the farmer, shaking his head. “Kids these days.”

Wile got off the cart. “Stay here,” he said. He pushed his way through the knot of traffic until he made it to the broken-down cart. I could just barely make him out through the crowd. With one hand, he lifted the cart out of the mud and placed it on the side of the road. He looked back at me, and nodded his head.

I got off the cart as well and headed towards the broken cart. Upon reaching it, I examined the axle.

“I can fix this,” I said.

Wile raised an eyebrow. “How?” he said.

“I don’t think I’ve demonstrated my power to you yet,” I said. I put my hand down on the ground and attracted iron to my grasp. A small pool of liquid metal welled up from the ground. I formed a spare axle with the metal and attached it to the cart’s wheels with some cold welding. Then I repaired the wagon.

The people who were watching, including Wile, were awestruck. I rubbed the back of my neck, a bit embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just did what I thought I should.”

A woman walked up to me and hugged me. “Thank ya, lad,” she said. She walked up to the cart, running her hand along it. “You’ve saved my livelihood.”

“What were you transporting?” I said.

The woman pulled away a cloth. “Babymelons,” she said. She picked up a green and orange striped fruit about the size of a squash, tossing it to me. “Here ya go,” she said. “For your trouble.”

Wile put his hand on my shoulder. “Do you know how to eat one of these?” he said.

“No,” I said, handing it to him.

Wile took it and smacked it with his palm. It cracked clean down the center, dividing the orange and green parts. Wile handed me the orange half. “They have different flavors,” he said. “The orange half is probably more palatable to someone who hasn’t grown up on these things.” Wile took a bite from the melon. “Amazing. Picked today, probably.”

I took a bite of the melon. It tasted of lychee and juicy fruit gum.

“This is good,” I said. “Are these expensive?”

“Not very,” said Wile. “But it’s normal for a farmer to stake their entire crop on a single day of the market.”

“Is that where everyone is going?” I asked.

Wile started walking back towards the wagon. “Dunno,” he said. “Some may be. Some may not be. I heard that things aren’t exactly peaceful around these parts.”

We reached the wagon. A small girl in a cloak was climbing on it, inspecting the camera.

“Hey!” yelled Wile. “Get off that wagon!”

I waved my hand. “Get off!” I said.

The girl scrambled down, but tripped, and then slammed her face into the dust. Wile grabbed her by the scruff of her neck. “What are you doing?” he said.

“You looked like you had something valuable,” said the girl. “I’m hungry. Can’t steal from anyone else. Give me something to eat.”

I handed her a half-eaten babymelon. She took it with gusto and started digging in.

“Sorry, lass,” said Wile. “We have business to do.”

“Get me into the town,” said the girl. “Get me in and I’ll help you. I know where treasure is buried. Good treasure. I just can’t get it myself.”

Wile’s ears perked up. “Can you tell me how good this treasure is?” he said.

The girl shrugged, and took another bite of the melon. “It’s important enough that the person who owns it keeps three guards around it at all times,” she said.

“And who is this person?” said Wile.

“Can’t say,” said the girl, taking another bite. “Important person. He burned down my orphanage and kicked me out of the city.”

“An injustice,” said Wile. “If this man is who I think he is, stealing from him will be much more fun.”

“You are a dragon, I guess,” I said. I sighed, getting onto the cart. “If you want that treasure, go for it. I’m going to help this girl, but I don’t want a reward. I have enough of everything.”

Wile climbed into the cart as well, followed by the girl. The three of us followed the traffic towards the city. The crowds grew even denser. This was unlike the traffic I was used to back on the freeways of Earth. There were many people walking, lots of animal dung, and everything stank to high heaven. Most of the people here were poor.

We came to the Brownfield gates. I had my writ of passage, and I assumed Wile could get in one way or another. It was the girl that was the problem.

With great surprise I found that all I had to do was flash my pass, and then we were in. I guess the crowds did do something in my favor this time. I smiled, and we headed towards my shop.