Alkimiya - A Fantasy Mystery Series

TWENTY~EIGHT - Pyramid of Salt

Zenetra knew her actions were strange, even to her, and circumstantially out of place. Though she had Oliver and Watt at the CF, she had never gone out of her way to touch them in such an intimate way. If Mr. Tedman were in the pyramid, he would remind her that this was improper.

Her fingers curled around his jawline. It was no wonder James was always brushing it down. He probably liked the feel of it just as much as she did.

Zenetra tore her attention from the beard and looked askance to where the golden effigy glimmered. The others had not noticed her and James or if they had, chose not to say anything. Carver, Mimi, and Scarlett were on the other side of the box, crouching low and nearly out of sight as they examined the scroll. Tilde stared at the spiked item the effigy held to its chest. A thin metal rod—standard issue from the CF—was in her fingers.

Questions of what made James yearn for such simple affection evaporated. They were nothing, meant nothing, compared to the questions the pyramid invoked.

Zenetra lowered her hand, ignored James' forlorn expression, and told him of her confusion.

"If someone is inside that coffin, then where are the people who laid them to rest? Scarlett said she hadn't found anyone but me, and now we suddenly have the burial place of who may have been the most important person on this island. It was too easy to get here. That whole thing is made of gold. You'd think they would have protected this place in some way."

James' mouth opened, but someone else spoke first.

"Oh, good gracious!" exclaimed Tilde. "It's turning my rod to gold!"

The rod Tilde used to prod the statue with was indeed transmuting into precious metal, the tip of which connected to whatever spiked item was in the hands of the effigy. As the gold crept its way up the slender metal stick, Zenetra was suddenly reminded of an old alchemic fable.

"Tilde! Let go!"

Zenetra's warning came too late.

Tilde's amazement became shrieks of terror. The transmutation did not stop with the rod. It continued to her fingers, hardening skin into metal. She tugged her hand from the rod with no effect. Patches of gold appeared on the sleeve of her constabulary uniform. Bone, blood, muscle, and tissue succumbed to the transmutation as well, and through the pain, the horrifying reality that she could not retract her hand hit Tilde full force. She burst into tears and cried, "I can't move! Help me!"

As Mimi and Carver rushed to Tilde's aid, Zenetra exploded with the same commanding voice she used in the archival basement.

"No one touch her!"

As Mimi came to an abrupt, squeaking stop, Zenetra reached for the ax sticking out from James' backpack. She yanked it free, unintentionally nicking the skin at James' jaw with the blade, and ran to Tilde's side with the ax raised above her head. Screams of "No!" and "Stop!" came from the others.

Zenetra aimed for the cloth at Tilde's bicep. The blade came down hard and fast. Stale air whistled. A sharp 'ding' rang out as metal sank into metal. The ax jerked and dislodged, and then the fabric it had cut into became metallic. 

Tilde's arm was as solid and dense as the effigy.

There was a collective moment of shock before Tilde's shrieks echoed across the Hall of Guardians.

Zenetra could not believe what she was seeing. The transmutation, though ancient, spread quickly. Experienced alchemists working for Noire Transport could not turn a single roamer door from wood to gold that fast. Something as complex as flesh, blood, bone, and fabric transmuting at the same rate was mere myth. Their matter was different. The processes of transmutation were likewise unique.