Eighteen

The frazzled teenager pushed his way past me into the house. He ran his hands through disheveled hair and took several deep breaths. “I’ve never seen a dead body before.”

“Who—”

“It’s not like it is in the movies, or even photos of real corpses.”

“Brix—”

“I tried calling you, Zoe.” He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and paced the length of the living room. “When you didn’t answer, I called Max. I didn’t know what else to do! I didn’t want the killer to get away.”

Killer? “You saw someone murdered? Oh, God, Brixton. Who—”

“I didn’t see the actual killing, just the dead guy with a gash in his head.” Brixton broke off and flung himself onto the green velvet couch. He put his head in his hands. He brushed off my attempt to put my hand on his shoulder, so I gave him space.

When he looked up at me, his face was calm. So was his voice. “I screwed up, Zoe. I was far enough away that the killer slipped out without me seeing where he went.” He punched the coffee table.

I cringed. So much for forced calmness. I’d get him a poultice later to help with the inevitable bruise. For now, an injury was the least of my concerns for Brixton. If a killer had seen him, he’d have suffered a lot worse than a sore hand. “You did the right thing getting away and calling the police. You should have called them first. Why did you call me?”

I dreaded the answer I expected: that it was someone I knew.

“Didn’t I say? It wasn’t a random dead body I saw. The killer was the same man who Dorian and me saw spying on Ivan.”

“Ivan.” I sank onto the couch, my legs no longer steady enough to support me. “He killed Ivan?”

Brixton swore. “I didn’t mean it’s Ivan who’s dead. Sorry to scare you. I don’t know who the dead guy is. I mean, I kinda thought he looked familiar, but I probably just saw him around somewhere. But Ivan is probably in danger now, right? Since the spy who was spying on him killed someone?”

I desperately hoped Brixton truly had been far enough away that the killer hadn’t seen him, otherwise he’d be the one in danger. “You told all this to the police?”

“Yeah, Max was on some other case and said he couldn’t just assign himself to whatever case he wanted. But he made sure some cops showed up real fast. I told them everything. They made me call my mom too. Not cool. She totally freaked.”

I could imagine. “Brixton. Back up a sec. How did you find the dead body?”

“You know we’ve been following Ivan, right? How Dorian had the idea to figure out what Ivan was doing now that he knows alchemy is real—in case he was going to expose you and D.” Brixton’s voice shook as he spoke. “So, this dude we saw at Ivan’s, we didn’t have a clue who he was.” Brixton hit the coffee table with his fist again. At least it wasn’t as hard a punch this time. “It doesn’t matter, really, cuz we know the important thing now—that he’s a killer.”

“We should get Dorian,” I said, surprised he hadn’t heard us and come downstairs already. I ran up to the first flight of stairs and called to him. He had to have heard me, but he didn’t reply. “Hang on one second, Brix.” I continued up to the attic, slowing only on the narrow steps leading up from the second floor to the attic. The attic door was closed. I turned the handle, but it was locked. “Dorian, let me in.” I shook the handle. “Dorian?”

“He’s not there?” Brixton startled me from the landing below me. “Weird.”

“He must have snuck out just now. Now that he has my cape, I think he’s getting more brazen.” I whirled around. “Don’t follow his example.”

He rolled his eyes. “Like I’d imitate a gargoyle.”

A perfectly sensible response. “Let’s go back downstairs. You were telling me how you found the man.”

The detour to look for Dorian seemed to have given Brixton the time he needed to collect his thoughts. He was more relaxed when he continued.

“There’s this cabin that looks like an old shack. It’s in the woods past Ivan’s house, in one of those greenbelts in between housing developments. The cabin is boarded up and there are signs saying to keep out. It’s where Dorian saw this guy go a couple of nights ago. So I went to check it out during the day today.”

“And you stayed, even after you saw there was a dead body? You stayed in the woods with a killer out there?”

“I went far enough away.” Brixton rubbed his hand.

Brixton’s temper worried me. He was a teenage boy, so some outbursts were to be expected, but I hoped he would grow out of the uncensored temper that had already given him a juvenile record. “All that matters is that you’re safe. Next time you see something like that, you get the hell out of there. No, there’s not going to be a next time, because you’re not going to be involved in this. Or anything like this. Ever. Again. Is that clear?”

Brixton rolled his eyes. “I had to see what was going to happen.”

“I know a crime scene can seem intriguing—”

“That’s not what this is about! The shed, Zoe. God, aren’t you listening to me? It wasn’t a normal shed. The stuff inside—” He broke off and shook his head. “It’s why the killer was following Ivan. What they have in common. It’s what you have in common with them too.”

I felt a cold shiver tickle its way down my spine. The look on his face terrified me.

“It was an alchemy lab, Zoe. The dead guy and the killer, they were practicing alchemy in the woods.”

I stared at Brixton. This wasn’t a joke. “You’re sure?”

He nodded “What’s going on? I mean, I thought there weren’t hardly any of you guys around. There are more alchemists here in Portland?”

“I didn’t think so,” I said, but I wasn’t so sure. My head swam. Had I been drawn to Portland on a subconscious level not because of its welcoming people, splendid food options, and lush greenery—but because alchemists were here? Could that have been the reason Portland felt immediately like home? As a female alchemist, I’d always been an outsider. Only Nicolas Flamel, who thought of his wife as an equal, had deemed me worthy of an apprenticeship. But I’d left abruptly, after a personal tragedy, and had lost touch with him.

“Tell me what you saw.” My throat was so dry that my voice cracked.

“Do you need some water or something?” Brixton took me by the hand and led me to the kitchen. His hands were clammy but strong.

I was still in a daze as he poured me a glass of water. It was the people that drew me here to Portland—normal, everyday people like Brixton, Max, and Blue. Alchemists aren’t drawn to each other like that. We’re not magical beings. We’re simply people who’ve tapped into different energies, performing different experiments than mainstream science.

There was another explanation, but I didn’t like it one bit: that alchemists were here in Portland because of me, Dorian, and his backward alchemy book.

I accepted the glass of water from Brixton and drank it in five gulps. The liquid revived me. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be taking care of you, kiddo.”

Brixton shrugged.

“I’m all right,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me. Go ahead and tell me what you saw.”

“I don’t know how to describe it exactly.” The frustration was clear in every aspect of the boy in front of me. The expression on his face hovered between innocence and angst, between boyhood and adulthood. “Stuff like in your alchemy lab.”

“You haven’t taken chemistry yet, have you?”

“No, I just finished freshman year. Chemistry is later. Why?”

I grabbed my phone and looked up a photo of a chemistry lab. I handed the phone to Brixton. As he hesitated, I relaxed. “You’ve only seen my alchemy lab a couple of times. Come with me.”

I unlocked the door to the basement and lit the candles that illuminated the room.

“I still think it looked more like this than the photo you showed me,” Brixton said.

“Have you been inside a chem lab?”

“I saw that meth lab before it got shut down.”

“And that’s it?”

“I’m not making this up. I’m not.”

Was he trying to convince me or himself? “I didn’t say you were. It must have been really upsetting to see a dead body.”

“I’m not a kid, Zoe. I’m not imagining things.” His voice broke and he swallowed hard. “I know what I saw.”

That’s what worried me. If Brixton had seen a murderer, that meant the murderer might have seen him too.