Alchemical Hearts Hollow is Thy Name E-Book

Jael Jarmila Livas

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Alchemical Hearts
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 482

Beschreibung

When April and her twin brother, Will, gather in the Bone Church near Prague with the other apprentices of the alchemical guild on the night of the eleventh new moon of the year, April makes the unexpected acquaintance of Jack Rosier, a young alchemist who is to start as a new student at the monastery school. His dark charisma and heretical ideas immediately cast a spell over April. When April begins to dream of witch burnings and churches full of blood, she begins to suspect evil, and together with her brother and her friend Ginger, sets off in search of answers which draw her deeper into the catacombs of the Golden City, and through the twists and turns of alchemy into irresistible orbit of Jack.

Leseprobe

For my mother. Because you deserve a soft epilogue.

“You taste like heaven, but God knows you’re built for sin.”– Framing Hanley, Built for Sin

“Paint me a heaven of love with your bloodied mouth,”– Federico Garcia Lorca, from Summer Madrigal; Collected Poems (ed. y Christopher Maurer)

“Lovely-eyed. Death-touched. Witch.”– Odysseus Elytis, tr. By Olga Broumas & T. Begley, from The Dream

CONTENT & TRIGGER WARNINGS

This story is a dark, contemporary romantasy novel and contains mature content that is not suitable for all audiences. Such as: abusive relationships, blood, bones, cults, death, demons, emotional abuse, explicit sexual and suggestive contents, misogyny, occult, profanity, racism, religion, sexism, Satan/The devil and self-harm.

Reader discretion advised.

Contents

Chapter 1: The Confessional

Chapter 2: Calcinatio

Chapter 3: Made of Bone

Chapter 4: Solutio

Chapter 5: The Price of Blood

Chapter 6: Separatio

Chapter 7: Stigma

Chapter 8: Conjunctio

Chapter 9: A Touch of Destiny

Chapter 10: Putrefactio

Chapter 11: Point of no return

Chapter 12: Destillatio

Chapter 13: Storm in the Stars

Chapter 14: Coagulatio

Epilogue: Demon-born

ALCHEMY

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Chapter 1

The Confessional

“And it was Death itself who stood behind me, with his arms wrapped around me as tight as iron bands, and his lipless mouth kissing my neck as if in love. But as well as the horror, I felt a strange longing.” – Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace, 1996

The Bone Church stood in perfect silence between the bleak and black branches of the ancient birch trees surrounding the area, as twilight began to drown the world in its half-light. April loved the clear and crisp air of October nights, the rich dark blue of nightfall as the last hours of afternoon evaporated between the trees that rose bare from the earth. There was a certain kind of excitement in the atmosphere, one, that kept little children awake the night before the first day of the new school year and seemed to be now coursing through April’s veins too. It was the evening of the eleventh new moon of the year and after tonight’s opening ceremony, another year began for all the apprentices that studied the secret art of alchemy at the monastery school in Prague, the very city of alchemy. After sunset, the young scholars gathered at the Bone Church, a little outside the city, waiting in anticipation, brimming with excitement.

April and Will stood quietly side by side, watching their parent’s car disappear from their view, its headlights feeling their way through the darkness of the driveway, crossing the other lights of the still-arriving limousines. Will sighed deeply and April looked at her brother from the side. The light streaming towards them from the Bone Church and the small spots the lanterns made on the ground, illuminated Will’s features just enough for April to see them in the twilight, reflecting her own emotions. But even if the world had been pitch-black around them and all lights would have been lost in the void, April would have always known what her brother was feeling, just as he always knew what was going on inside her. Will met her gaze, smiled at his twin sister and took her hand. He lifted it, his lips brushing over her knuckles, lightly kissing her skin, then squeezed her hand and April returned the touch with a smile of her own.

The twins let go of each other and reached for their suitcases. They turned round and walked at a leisurely pace towards the portal of the Bone Church. At the entrance stood a group of girls who scrutinised the twins and then continued talking without greeting them. None of them were friends with either Will or April, and none of them was nearly as gifted as the twins. They kept a straight face and entered the old building.

Inside, the thick walls protected the apprentices from the cold and kept out the biting autumn wind. The lit candles in the candelabras and the heat of the bodies of the gathered alchemists, warmed up the room even further. If it hadn’t been for all the bones and skulls, one could have deemed the Bone Church to be cosy place. If one was inclined towards such morbid things at all – the twins surely were.

“Well, well, look who arrived here! I almost thought you weren’t coming!” April and Will were greeted by Sergei, who broke away from one of the groups standing around.

“Nice to see you again,” Will replied with a grin and smacked Sergei’s hand.

“Everything all right, April?” she was asked and shook Sergei’s hand as well.

“Everything’s fine,” April replied and allowed the other to kiss her on both cheeks. April wasn’t close friends with Sergei, unlike Will, but his manners were always impeccable and that was something April appreciated.

“Where did you leave your Valkyrie?” Sergei then continued to ask, as he put his arm around Will’s shoulders and pulled him towards the small group.

“Ginger’s Scottish,” April said and raised an eyebrow disapprovingly, which Sergei only acknowledged with a wink.

“Probably late, as usual,” Will replied, giving April a meaningful look. Don’t start a fight, his eyes said, and she averted her eyes ever so slightly, but nodded. Will hated discussions about culture appropriation and the importance of heritage, that would most likely end in nasty arguments with the simple explanation that people should just be nice to each other and keep their shit to themselves. April agreed, but she was of the opinion, that certain things needed to be discussed. Especially if they ended in arguments. They reached Sergei’s group of friends and April nodded to them in greeting.

“Hey, Vadik, take the suitcases of the two Blackwells and put them with our luggage,” Sergei said, glancing at April, “a lady should never have to bother carrying her own bags. That’s what men are for.”

April smiled lightly at Sergei, knowing that this was his attempt at appeasement and his excuse for having called her best friend a Valkyrie, and with another nod, April accepted his apology. A soft smile tugged on Sergei’s lips while his eyes still skimmed Aprils face. Only when she lifted her eyebrows, did he turn his head with a grin.

While the young men engaged Will in their conversation, April broke away from the small group and began to wander around the Bone Church. Here and there she greeted classmates or girls from her dormitory, but her gaze was always directed towards the door, looking for a head of red hair and that beloved face of her dearest friend Ginger, who was indeed late, as usual. April had very quickly lost track of who was standing where, or in which part of the church her brother was, and thus she strolled towards the side doors, her hands gently brushing the pillars. April loved the Bone Church in its spaciousness and familiarity. But what she loved even more, was the sensation of being surrounded by the spirits of the past, which had been stored in the bones and skulls for centuries and allowed those who recognised them, to share in their powers. Her skin touched old stone and bone, and a tremble of excitement rushed through her. For a moment, April allowed herself to close her eyes in pleasure, as she felt that hidden power of each alchemical substance in the material surrounding her surge through her body. Sighing satisfied, April let her breath flow warm over her lips. They were so dry from the cold that April could easily peel off the fine skin on them with her teeth, until she tasted her own blood, then sucked the lower lip even further, tasting the red liquid on her tongue.

“April!”

Expecting to see her best friend, April turned around and realised too late that it was a young male who had spoken. Her initial excitement turned into the opposite when her eyes fell on one of her classmates she couldn’t stand. Luke Harris was making his way through a group of girls towards April, who tried to flee at the sight of him, but was blocked by another group and tripped over their suitcases. She cursed under her breath.

“April, it’s so good to see you! I was hoping to meet you here before the ceremony!” Luke was now standing in front of her, his American accent drooling into her ears, his voice as annoying as the sound of a fly that was trying to find its way out of a locked room. He stood so close that April could see the blue sparkle in his grey eyes, his hair as always perfectly blow-dried, and his too white teeth smiling at her. April turned her nose up, registering that Luke was blocking her only other way out of the small space in which he had manoeuvred her, while a row of skulls stared at her from the left side, with their hollow and empty eyes. April wanted to believe she could read pity in the dark sockets, but the shadows on the bone skin turned the non-existent faces into mocking masks. Piss-holes.

Those skulls had certainly belonged to a bunch of old men, who had delighted in keeping a harem of pretty housemaids, while they gorged on their privilege of being a male, while cooking up all sorts of liquids in their underground kitchens, hoping to create gold, far away from the prying eyes of those who did not believe in the wonders of their science. And to hide from the authorities of course.

“I wanted to pick up on our conversation we had before summer break, since you obviously didn’t get my letters!” Luke smiled winningly. April grimaced.

“I did get your letters and deliberately didn’t reply to them,” April answered dryly.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Luke said and took a step closer. April moved to the side.

“I know you’re such a hard-working student and always have a lot to do! It doesn’t matter if you haven’t found the time to answer me, I understand that!” April opened her mouth to respond, but Luke cut her off.

“I’ll get straight to the point: as I wrote in my letters and hinted at before the holidays,” Luke continued, “I wanted to ask you when you have time to go out with me. My little cousin’s christening is next month, and I really want you to meet my parents! So, what do you think? How about next weekend?” April blinked. Then she cleared her throat and stretched up to her size. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very impressive due to the many missing inches. Fuck that.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to have been unclear before the holidays, or all the times before that when you’ve got on my nerves with this question, but in case you’ve somehow missed it, my answer has always been no for over a year. No, I don’t want to go out with you or even spend time with you. I have no interest in you, you’ve only ever annoyed me, so… Until now I thought you just weren’t the brightest, but I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose! Now, if you could just leave me alone...?” April tried to push past Luke, but he held her by the arm.

“April, wait a minute! I just want...” With a hiss, April tore herself away and began to hurry in the opposite direction. “April, just a moment!” She heard him shout behind her and made to get away as quickly as possible.

“April!”

She cursed again. Glancing back, she realised that the idiot was following her. She hurriedly went round a few people and tried to orientate herself in the church. Where was her brother or his friends when they were needed? By now, the last of the apprentices had arrived and the nave of the Bone Church was full, brimming with the heat of excitement, conversations and laughter.

“April, wait!”

She didn’t turn around but dodged into one of the side aisles and ducked behind some pews. With her back arched, she kept walking, looking for her brother or Sergei, but couldn’t identify them in the sea of dark cloaks or the outlines of faces in the twilight of the candlelight. April glanced back and saw Luke shouting at three girls to get out of the way, so April almost ran along the rows of pews towards the other side of the church. She could feel the dead looking at her, whether with amusement or disapproval she could not say.

There! The confessionals!

Nobody was in this part of the church. Presumably everyone was now slowly making their way to the sacristy, which would open shortly and reveal the passage to the catacombs. April rounded the last bench standing in her way, hurried to the right-hand box, tore aside the velvet curtain, stepped inside and pulled the fabric back again. It was almost completely dark in the confessional. April took a step away from the curtain, panting, and bumped the back of her knee against the wooden bench.

“Damn it,” she mouthed, but then dropped onto the seat. She listened carefully to hear if Luke had been able to follow her and tried to get her breathing under control. She exhaled slowly. An unexpected clearing of the throat to her right elicited a small gasp of shock and April flinched.

“Bloody Hell! Oh my God, I didn’t know anyone was in here, I’m so, so sorry,” April stammered and rose from the bench. The fright and the tension made her legs tremble and to be on the safe side, April leant a hand against the back of the confessional.

“No problem,” came the reply from the other side. “If I’m not mistaken, you were in quite a hurry to get in here!”

The voice that spoke from the other side was clearly male and completely foreign to her, with a light Russian accent. April could hear that the other person was young. He had a deep, beautiful and somewhat raspy voice that sent a shiver down April’s spine.

“Yeah, um, I... Well, there’s this guy who’s bothering me and can’t leave me alone. For some incomprehensible reason, he doesn’t understand what no means and won’t leave me alone! If it’s okay, I’d hide here for a few minutes, then I’d leave you again to your...um, whatever,” April said and listened for an answer. But all April heard from the other side was a soft laugh. Then, an intake of breath to say something, when Luke’s voice rang out from not too far away.

“Have you seen April Blackwell? She must have passed this way! No? Then get out of the way!”

April winced and cursed quietly again. She noticed a movement through that wooden-carved window that divided the confessional. The stranger had stood up and for a brief moment a strip of light fell into the darkness of the confessional and April could make out the outline of the young man.

“Is that the guy who’s bothering you?” the stranger asked, peeking past the fabric of the curtain. “The blond one who’s shouting and making a pissed face?”

“Yes,” April said quietly and clenched her hands into fists. Luke’s voice sounded again, a little closer now, and the stranger dropped the curtain again.

“That’s him.”

“If you want, I can help you get rid of him,” the stranger said and April felt his gaze on her, even though she couldn’t see his face.

“I have an idea of how you could get rid of him for good, but... I’d need your permission for that. I don’t want to cross any lines,” the stranger continued. April swallowed and nodded hesitantly. Then she realised that the other person couldn’t see her in the darkness of the confessional and cleared her throat slightly.

“Okay,” she said and nodded again. She could need some help.

“Well then,” answered the stranger. He pulled the curtain aside again, stepped out of his part of the confessional and the next moment he pushed away the curtain on April’s side and joined her in the booth. In the brief moments that light streamed into the confessional, she saw a young man, tall and slender. His hair was dark, and his skin shone brightly in the twilight. The curtain closed again, but a small gap remained open. The stranger stood now very close to April and scrutinised her with an unreadable gaze. Suddenly, the booth seemed too small: the atmosphere around the young man seemed to crackle and April felt as if all oxygen was sucked from and around her and into that whirring aura of his. And there was something…dark and dangerous emanating from him. April couldn’t describe it differently, just…the pure essence of nightfall. That kind of darkness you found only in your scariest nightmares, combined with that eerie feeling that befell her whenever she wandered through the graveyards on a sleepless night. That kind of thrill and pleasure she got from it, always accompanied by a breath of fear.

No one said anything for a few seconds as the two looked on, simply taking each other in, while April felt a tremble in her very bones. The stranger was devastatingly handsome, and the shadows of the confessional cloaked him almost tenderly – a prince born from darkness. Or was he an apparition? An angel? A messenger from death itself? Bloody hell, who was he? She had never seen anyone like him, and April had seen many men up close. They heard Luke’s voice calling April’s name again.

“My method will be a little drastic, but effective,” the young man said quietly and then pushed past April to sit down on the wooden bench. “But I’d have to touch you for that. Would that be all right with you?” he asked and then looked at April questioningly. She swallowed hard. April didn’t know this young man and apart from the fact that she had been able to judge him by his looks so far, she knew nothing about him – except that he made her feel things no other man had ever evoked in her, with that deep and raspy voice of his. He spoke with the voice of a secret lover, deeply buried inside her, softly murmuring, while his lips and tongue drew circles on the skin of her neck, his hands wrapped around her waist, pushing her down on him, while she tried to keep quiet, afraid to be heard, knowing there were people next door – and that she was doing something forbidden. Something sinful.

April’s cheeks heated and her skin flushed. She blinked the images away, slowly beginning to understand the simple laws of attraction, and how a voice could turn someone on with just a few words, now that she was facing someone as handsome as this man. But it didn’t change the simple fact that he was a stranger, and she didn’t know him. Her only real clue was his scent, for they said that a person’s smell indicated if one got on with someone else. April leaned forward and breathed in silently. Pine forests and freshly fallen snow. The cold breeze by the sea, waves crashing and falling, sea gulls soaring overhead and…

“April! Where are you? Let’s talk!” Luke’s voice was very close now and April heard a series of curse words, then a couple of girls snapping even less pleasant things in return, and then Luke barking something unintelligible back to them.

“Okay,” April said, brushing her hair behind her ear. As long as it worked, she was willing to do whatever it needed to get rid of that bastard. And if she was honest with herself, she didn’t mind this young man touching her, on the contrary. He would make a nice change from all the others.

The stranger stretched out his arms, taking April’s hand ever so gently, then pulled her onto his lap with a swift and decisive movement. Startled, April sucked in her breath.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, not having expected…this. Goddamn, he was suddenly so close.

“Something that will keep that guy away from you forever,” the stranger answered softly, a subtle smile twitching around his lips. “Trust me.” The young man lifted his hand and stroked the hair of the girl sitting on his legs over her shoulder in a flowing motion, exposing her slender neck.

“Trust me,” he whispered again into her ear, taking in her heavy breathing, her face, her lips… Then, very slowly, he leaned closer. She opened her mouth to say something – and looked directly into his eyes for the first time. Her perfume mingled with his scent. Pine forest met pomegranate and lilies.

Her breath turned shallow and they interlocked eyes, neither releasing the other. The young man lifted his other hand and placed it carefully on her shoulder. And at the same moment as the curtain of the confessional was torn open from the outside, he leaned forward and pressed his lips onto that sensitive spot in the crook of her neck.

April stifled a gasp. Blood shot through her body and an electrifying sensation travelled down her spine, as the young man’s breath caressed her skin, kissing her neck again. She bit her lips to supress a moan.

“Oh, sorry!” Luke’s voice rang out and the light from the church spilled into the twilight of the confessional. The young man broke away from April’s neck and looked at the intruder with a fixed gaze, face unmoving. Not a single muscle twitched. April took advantage of the moment and scrutinised the face of the person on whose lap she was sitting. The stranger had high cheekbones, fine lips and a defined jawline. His face was even, and his eyes were dark. Or were they actually bright and had only caught the shadows around them? Whatever. He was beautiful.

“What is it?” the young man asked in a cold voice, without blinking once, his eyes still fixed firmly on Luke.

“April?” Luke asked instead, looking at the young woman sitting on the stranger’s legs with her back turned to him. She instinctively and not without satisfaction raised her arms and put them around the stranger’s neck. April continued staring at his face and shifted her weight ever so gently. She felt the young man tense up underneath her thighs. He blinked and his eyes shot to her for a brief second, an unreadable expression in them, then he looked back at Luke. April held her breath.

“Can I help you in any way?” the young man asked Luke again, this time more forcefully and cuttingly.

“Erm, well... no, I’m... just looking for someone, but... April? Is that you?”

April didn’t answer, but only saw the stranger raise his eyebrows as he cleared his throat. She felt his hand slide from her shoulder and down her back, feeling his way down her spine, while the other hand traced the outline of her thigh. The soft fabric of her dress scraped over her naked skin beneath and April noticed how her body reacted instantly. She shifted her weight again, moving her hips ever so slightly, adjusting her position in his lap, feeling him tense up even more, while she caressed the stranger’s neck with her fingertips, letting her other hand trace his jawline and leaned in even closer. The scent of the forest and sea beguiled her, and she wanted more. God, what was she doing? Luke’s eyes slid from the girl back to the strange guy and nodded slowly.

“Sorry to interrupt,” April heard Luke say, then he stepped back, and the shadows fell over them again. April froze. She and the stranger listened and waited.

“What the fuck,” they heard Luke’s voice mumble, then the sound of footsteps walking away.

Suddenly realising the overall situation and now also acutely aware of the heat that had begun to gather in her middle, April pulled away and stood up hastily on shaky legs. She took a step back and smoothed out her clothes. What the hell just happened?

“So, um… I...” April breathed out deeply, not knowing what to say, trying to regain control. Should she apologise? Saying that she got carried away the moment she had felt him under her thighs, or should she just walk away and… Damn it. Focus, April.

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and thanked the darkness that it didn’t show. Her heart raced, while a subtle sort of shame rippled through her at the memory of how his skin had felt beneath her fingers and how she had wanted to keep exploring. There was not only shame, but also desire.

“I’m Jack Rosier. I’m new to the school,” the stranger interrupted her thoughts and stammering words, and April exhaled in relief. Jack stood up and held out his hand to April, who gratefully took it.

“April Blackwell,” she said quietly. Jack looked at the young woman again. Now visibly embarrassed, she avoided his gaze and brushed her hair behind her ear again, even though none of the strands fell into her face. A smile tucked at the corners of Jack’s lips.

“Thank you,” murmured April and looked at him again. “Really! I hope that…taught him a lesson.” Jack grinned lightly. “That’s for sure. You should have seen his face! That expression was worth its weight in gold! He looked pretty stupid, especially when he recognised you,” he added and laughed. It sounded raspy and he cleared his throat again. April’s heart fluttered. Dear Lord… She looked around, trying the get that tremble in her gut under control.

“Well then... I should go and look for my brother and my girlfriend. I mean, my friend, who is a girl…I mean, um… Sorry…” April shook her head and started again. “My brother and she are standing around somewhere. Probably. Waiting for me. The passageway must be open by now.” She cursed her voice. Why couldn’t she talk smoothly to him, the way she had always observed the other girls do it, whenever they were talking to their latest prey? With voices soft as silk, so that even April had felt drawn to them, drowning in their alluring siren song, framed by beautiful hair, soft eyes, soft gaze, soft lips.

April’s eyes dropped to Jacks lips. She took another deep breath. Focus.

This man in front of her did no good to her logical thinking. In any kind of way. She forced her gaze up again, staring into his eyes. That wasn’t much better, but April continued talking, ignoring the pulsating between her legs.

“If you want, you can come with me. Then we can accompany you through the catacombs and you won’t get lost or anything. I’m sure my brother won’t mind and...” Her voice trailed off. Embarrassment was a nasty feeling. She never felt like this with the others. Usually, she kept her cool.

“I’m happy to stay here a little longer,” Jack then said, and April nodded. Relieved. Disappointed. She took the chance to look at the young man once again, his face, half drowned in shadows – he was blessed with the beauty of a fallen angel.

“See you… around then?” April replied hoarsely, feeling the heat on her cheeks, hoping he hadn’t noticed that she was staring at him and took a step back. Jack nodded, April gave him one last fleeting smile, then pushed the curtain aside and stepped out of the confessional. For a moment she simply stood there, the Bone Church and its pillars once again omnipresent around her. She shook her head, turned round and disappeared in the direction of the sacristy.

And while April joined the small group of Sergei’s friends at the altar, amongst which April could see her friend Ginger, and stepped through the entrance to the tunnel system that led from the church to the school, Jack Rosier slowly sat back down on the wooden bench. He leant his head against the wall behind him and closed his eyes.

He heard the distant voices of the young alchemists as they walked to the sacristy, talking to each other, about holidays, books, dates, laughing and exchanging news. With his eyes closed, Jack listened to the sounds echoing around the church until they became less and less frequent and quieter. And when he was sure that he was the last one in the church, he stepped out of the confessional and walked down the centre aisle towards the altar. In the sacristy, Jack could see the glow of candles marking the passageway: the entrance to the catacombs that stretched from this area to the city and underneath it, in branching tunnel systems in all directions. A spider’s cobweb in which they all were mere flies, lost in a maze of secrets and watching eyes; hidden, ancient, undisturbed, waiting, whispering, murmuring, flickering spectres of stone and bone.

As Jack placed his hands on the altar and sank to his knees, he saw in his mind’s eye the maps he had studied and memorised for months. He saw the paths and shafts of the catacombs, recalled all the branches in his mind and then closed his eyes again. His lips moved slightly as he spoke silent words, his hands folded. He thought he could hear the laughter of that young woman in the distance, the scent of lilies and pomegranate still surrounding him, the taste of her skin still on his lips. So soft. So fragile. He had wanted to taste it, when his lips had met her neck. He had wanted to taste her with his tongue, that skin, inhaling that smell, letting his teeth grace over it. With his eyes closed, Jack imagined he could see her with her friends, following the torches through the tunnels. The shadows of those passing by cast in jagged shapes on the walls, the echo of voices thrown back and forth from the cold and damp stone walls. Jack saw her in front of him, as April Blackwell walked through the corridors, turning to him again and again, her dark eyes brushing his, and her face... Her face.

The shock Jack had experienced, when he had recognised her face in the semidarkness of the confessional still lingered in his bones, even though he had heard that American guy shouting her name through the church. After Jack had kissed that beautiful swan neck of hers, he felt that from now on, he was the only one allowed to shout her name – deeply buried inside her. For hell’s sake, the desire for that young woman was still pumping through his veins, and all it had taken were mere seconds, a touch, a glance – and he had been undone. Jack had known that she would be here, but he hadn’t expected any of this. Running into her on the very first evening had been a little too much of a coincidence, even for his taste, although it was rather her, who ran into him. Yet actually seeing April Blackwell for the first time in person, so unexpectedly, so predestined by fate... And the way she had looked at him: enquiring, suspicious, but not without curiosity. Her body had melted so perfectly into his, and the way her eyes had taken him in; deep, devouring. And her face… Her face.

It had been so easy to read it. The features that were so familiar to him. A face he had seen often enough in photographs: for the first time on the black and white one, that stood on the desk in his grandfather’s study. A face that mirrored April’s and yet... Of course, he had ran a background check on her himself without any difficulty. Although the spies worked for his grandfather and thus for the order, it was Jack they were loyal to. Having his own network within the shadows of the order, had proven to be of immense value to his mission and far from the order’s headquarters, Jack had earned their trust. It was pitiful that in the end, love was still stronger than fear, for fear was so much easier a force to wield. Jack had experienced it first-hand.

As he stood up again and crossed himself, he felt relief rush through his body. No matter what, the two women were not the same. No matter how similar they looked, the young woman he had recently touched and the spirit of the one who had long since departed this earth; they were not the same. Doppelgangers, nothing more. Jack had known that April was different. He had known it the moment he had looked into her eyes. The moment she had grinded her hips against him. Oh, that girl knew exactly what she had been doing and Jack was musing over their brief encounter, letting his mind wander farther, delighting in thoughts that sure were blasphemous to have, especially in a church. What a beautiful, terrible temptation the devil had sent his way, her face dancing still in front of Jack’s mind’s eye.

He raised his eyes to the hanging cross in front of him. He looked disdainfully at the figure nailed to it and bowed to it with a mocking smile. The smile still half on his lips, he entered the sacristy and allowed himself to be swallowed up by the tunnels and shadows of the catacombs.

The laughter of the young alchemists echoed through the long corridors of the old monastery. Nobody knew exactly what kind of convent it had once been and whether nuns or monks had lived here. In the meantime, however, the old building had been converted into a school. According to the legends and stories surrounding him, the founder of the school had appeared at the gates of the city on a dark, foggy night. A man on a black horse, wearing an equally black cloak, his face covered by a hood and pockets filled with scrolls, flasks, vials and liquids that no one had ever seen before. The mysterious man never revealed where he had come from or why he had chosen this exact city to preach his knowledge about alchemy. Historians tried to retrace his steps, but it was as if he had appeared out of nowhere. What the young apprentices of alchemy were taught, was that the old master, the first alchemist, brought light into the darkness of the materials from which the cosmos was knitted. Teachings and knowledge about how new insights could be gained were then passed on from generation to generation in no other place than the old monastery, with its cloister, gardens, neighbouring cemetery and small church, where the tunnel ended, that the apprentices took from the Bone Church and then emerged from the catacombs back into the open.

The tunnel system was widely ramified and all alchemists, whether still in training or not, used it to move around the city and its surroundings undetected, underground and far away from the public. Even if the majority of the world no longer wanted to know anything about the alchemical teachings, except some shrewd yoga teachers and spiritualists, there were still enough people, especially those in positions of power, who made use of that ancient knowledge. These deals between the alchemy guild and politicians, business sharks and other bigwigs in various sectors of industry, were done in secret. Nobody wanted to publicly admit to profiting from a pseudo-science, a view that the alchemists ridiculed, for they knew their knowledge and skills were invaluable and made sure to be well paid for. With their methods, they were able to overcome every limit of science and advance into areas that no human soul had ever been able to grasp before. However, the most important credo of the alchemy guild was that they set themselves apart from all charlatans, witches, sorcerers and druids, for their practices were heathen and of pagan origin – and thus blasphemous.

Some years ago, before the twins had started school – April and Will were still children at the time – there had been a serious scandal at the monastery school: a group of girls had secretly formed a coven and in addition to studying alchemy, had also dedicated themselves to the teachings of witchcraft. When one wave of flu after another struck the school and the girls’ classmates fell ill, suffering from terrible delusions and dreams, the teachers got to the bottom of the matter. It didn’t take a moon for the girls to be discovered. That very night they were taken from the monastery by guild knights and one by one they disappeared in the black carriage that stood outside the convent gates, the horses as black as the steed of the first alchemist and grand master of the guild. No one had ever seen or heard of the girls again. Some said they had been locked up in the city dungeons and others reported recognising the girls in a court trial. Sentenced to death, they were said to be waiting for their day of execution, or to be taken out of the city and burned at the stake in the grey, icy wasteland further north, as was fitting for witches. Others said that the girls had been dead for a long time.

The story of the girls who had sold their souls to witchcraft, had always held an immense fascination for April, truly fuelled by the fear and terror which the girls must have experienced when they were accused of witchcraft and taken away – a nightmare that haunted April since early childhood. She knew that she had no reason to worry and that her fascination was similar to that of people who loved horror films and yet... Something about the girls’ story and their decision to take up black magic, the desire for more, that alchemy hadn’t been enough for them, or simply a crazy idea born from the whim of a moment; something about it had captured April’s interest. She was a good student and a promising alchemist, she didn’t want anything come into her way, and thus she kept those thoughts to herself, knowing that even showing interest in such things could arouse mistrust. But it was difficult not letting the mind wander and dive deeper into things that were marked as forbidden, for their allure was hard to resist. Perhaps this was precisely the reason why the alchemical teachings went hand in hand with faith: to keep the mind of every alchemist untainted, clean and pure, because alchemy was a science that required concentration and precision, and only when the substance was pure and unsullied could the experiments and the production of elixirs and tonics be successful. Although April tried to pushed thoughts about the witches and the coven they had formed at this school to the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but imagine the girls’ faces in front of her, whenever she stepped through the passageway from the catacombs into the school’s small church. For over the doorway the admonishing words were written in old fashioned letters: maleficae malae, evil witches. In the half-light of the church, April thought she could see the witches’ large eyes fixed directly on her, staring straight into her soul. She imagined that she could hear their whispering in her head, their laughter mingling in the wind with the rustling of the leaves and then getting lost among the graves of the cemetery, blending with the white petals of the apple trees in early spring, or the winding green of the ivy...

“April?” Will touched his sister gently on the shoulder, bringing her back to reality. The young men around them laughed, Sergei spun round in front of the altar and April realised that she had obviously lost the thread of the conversation some time ago.

“Come on, Blackwells! What are you waiting for!” Sergei clapped his hands and then pulled Will with him towards the exit of the monastery church. April followed a little more slowly and let the young men run past her and out into the open. The cold night air hit them sharply and April breathed deeply in and out. Apprentices bustled around the square in front of the church. The monastery loomed large, majestic, commanding respect, and at the same time wonderfully familiar in the darkness. The windows were all brightly lit, and voices and laughter echoed out to them from the cloister. A content smile graced April’s lips as she followed her brother, Ginger, Sergei and the others across the square and through the welcoming gates of the school.

From the refectory, the clatter of tableware being spread across the many tables could be heard from afar and April was glad not being part of the kitchen group the very first night of the school year. Normally they all sat together with the people of their choice, except on the first evening of the new school year and opening ceremony; the evening of the eleventh new moon of the calendar year, the night on which the veil between the worlds became particularly thin. Therefore, the school’s apprentices sat in their respective classes that evening: the oldest ones at the window side, while the younger ones were seated on the opposite wall of the room. The teachers took their seats, where the abbess or abbot of the monastery once had sat.

With Ginger in tow, April pushed her way past a group of girls who were whispering excitedly, looking around curiously and were no doubt among those who had just started their training.

“There’s the table with the candles for the ceremony!” said Ginger, pointing to the entrance of the cloister.

“Shouldn’t we take our suitcases to the room first?” asked April, but let her friend drag her along anyway.

“Oh, let the boys do it for us. That’s what they’re there for after all. Sergei himself told us so!” Ginger replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. April laughed softly.

“All right, but only because you’re making sense for once,” she returned, stepping up next to Ginger at the candle table.

“Anyone who hasn’t washed and changed for the ceremony has no business at this table!” The voice of their teacher sounded behind the two girls, who immediately turned around.

“Madame! Nice to see you again!” said Ginger, beaming all over her face. Madame Tarkovsky returned the smile and held out her hand, which Ginger then took and curtseyed. April did the same.

“Has your luggage been taken to your room yet?” asked Madame and the two girls looked at each other.

“Presumably yes,” April answered for them both and Ginger nodded in confirmation. “At least Sergei’s friends brought them here for us.”

“If Mr Ivanov has taken matters into his own hands, your suitcases are probably already in your bedroom,” Madame then said and winked at the two girls with a smile. All three giggled until Madame clapped her hands and sent the girls upstairs to wash and change into their ceremonial dresses.

The opening ceremony began at eight o’clock. By that time, night had fallen, and the monastery was surrounded by shadows, no moonlight brightening the darkness. The eleventh new moon night of the year seemed to be charged with an extraordinary energy. April sometimes thought that she could actually feel the atmosphere of this special night prickling on her skin, like a thousand butterflies brushing her arms and settling in her hair. April had often wondered what it would be like to spend the night alone instead of performing the ceremony with the other apprentices. She would retreat somewhere quiet and perform her own rituals, similar to the ones her mother used to perform when they were little children, but which April remembered only vaguely. She would go out of the city, under the open sky. April would become one with the night and the stars, slowly opening herself to the whispering in the wind and speak to her ancestresses, murmuring through the veils of the worlds. She would invite the spirits of the otherworld to join her, welcome them into her circle and read oracles. She would let them tell her secrets of the past, hundreds of candles around her, making sure no one would see her, for it would look a lot like witchcraft although conversing with your ancestors was no witchcraft but simply becoming very quiet and listening to the voices within. And there was no harm in that, right?

Her twin’s face appeared in April’s mind’s eye. Perhaps she would let her brother join in. No, she thought as she spotted Will at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against one of the walls, his eyes wandering over the apprentices already gathered there. No, Will would definitely be there, whether he wanted to or not. Nothing and nobody could come between them, no new moon night, no prophecies from the otherworld, and nothing else either. The threads of their lives were tightly knotted and interwoven with one another, and she belonged to him and he belonged to her. They were one.

As if Will had heard April’s thoughts, he lifted his head and looked at her as she came down the stairs, Ginger by her side. As instructed by their mistress, the two girls had washed, combed and styled their hair and changed into ceremonial clothes. Will pushed himself off the wall and held out his hand to his sister, who took it on the last step and smiled at him. Will lifted his hand and briefly touched April’s cheek.

“My love,” he whispered softly. She was so beautiful in her black dress. The sparkling stones in her dark hair shone silver like the stars and Will gently pressed a kiss to her temple. April looked at him lovingly. He touched her neck and put his hand on her shoulder and in an instant, images of earlier that evening flashed through April’s mind. She saw Jack Rosier’s pale face before her for a moment, his eyes fixed intently on her. April blinked the memory away. Will raised his eyebrows questioningly and looked his sister in the eye.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and April nodded.

“I was just thinking about something,” she said and smiled. She squeezed Will’s hand to let him know that everything was fine and then nodded towards the other end of the corridor.

The teachers had appeared at the entrance, all dressed in their black robes, holding a candle. The conversations died down and the young apprentices began to line up on either side of the corridor. Three boys, who were one class below April and Will, walked past the rows and pressed a white candle into each of their hands. Then three girls followed and lit the candles. When they reached the last student, the three girls stood opposite the teachers on the wall, facing them. Silence reigned for a few moments. Only the breathing of those gathered and the crackling of the flames, the wind outside and the rustling of the trees could be heard. Then a girl in a night-blue dress stepped out of the row, where April and Will were standing. Kenna was in April and Will’s class, but not friends with either of them. April knew her well enough to know that Kenna couldn’t stand oranges, preferred to get up earlier than everyone else and that her mum had published a book about new methods of distillation.

Kenna positioned herself in the centre of the aisle and turned towards the exit. Then she began to sing in a clear voice. After the first passage, two other girls who had stepped behind Kenna, followed her lead and after the first verse, everyone else present began to join in. Kenna led the procession as the precentor and walked down the corridor singing solemnly. Imitating her example, the other apprentices followed. April’s voice blended with a hundred others and the sounds rose high to the vaulted ceilings. And as they passed through the archway, they entered the cloister in an almost majestic procession. Singing like this, the flame of her candle before her eyes, April felt goosebumps spread all over her body. She smiled instinctively and looked first at her brother, then at Ginger. They both returned her smile as they followed the procession. Towards the end of the song, Kenna had walked through the cloister once and met the end of the procession formed by the teachers. All the apprentices now stood in the cloister and then approached the window arches. In the centre of the cloister was the small herb garden, with lilac trees and roses growing between the beds. Hardly anything was still in bloom, just a few rose petals that reflected the candlelight in the darkness. They sang and sang, and the longer their voices echoed in unison from the walls of the cloister, soaring up to the night sky and the stars, to the dark moon, out into the night, sending them forward in time and back into the past, the more April felt how they all became one. How the alchemy of voices, the exchange of their energies, refined and then took on new forms. April felt the presence of her brother next to her very clearly, felt how Ginger’s body heat increased and she herself began to warm like the sun and then she took her eyes off her candle, lifted her gaze and looked across the garden to the opposite side of the cloister – straight into the face of Jack Rosier.

He too had his eyes fixed on her, his face a bright spot in the shadows, like the withered roses in the garden, a white petal in a sea of darkness. A wave of heat shot through April’s body like a flash flood and she tried to control her breathing but couldn’t take her eyes off the young man. It was as if she could see a thousand other faces in his face. Another wave of energy surged through April, hot and cold at the same time. Overwhelmed, April closed her eyes.

She saw a clearing in the forest, a fire, surrounded by figures wearing animal skulls on their heads and staring into the flames through empty eye sockets. She saw marble-white corridors of a house, a rose garden in the snow and then – a light so dazzlingly bright that it made April dizzy. She had the feeling of being pushed under water. A cathedral with statues of angels, in the place of the cross a squat figure with bat wings, horns and a tail. April struggled for breath; her eyes twitched under the closed lids – she heard voices from far away. The flood of images would not stop, but April could no longer recognise anything, they were a blur of colours and sounds and smells and… She wanted to scream, but her throat was knotted tight and she felt like she was going to fall or faint. A jolt ran through her and April ripped open her eyes.

She was still standing between Will and Ginger in the cloister. The assembled alchemists were still singing, the candles were still burning and, as if April were waking from a bad dream, she looked around with wide eyes and a pounding heart. She felt her entire body trembling. She looked forwards again, straight ahead, through the rose bushes and bare lilacs to where Jack Rosier had been standing – but his place was empty. Only his candle remained on the windowsill, the flame flickering in the wind.

The singing died down. And after minutes of silence, the conversations resumed. The candles were placed on the wall, torches were lit in the cloister. The first ones laughed again and set off towards the refectory. April was pulled along, saw Ginger’s lips moving as she spoke to Will. She saw Will laughing, Sergei’s face, Kenna brushing her hair out of her face and looking at April.

“Come on, April! Let’s pick the best seats!” Ginger called to April. Her friend’s hand slipped from April’s grasp and the red head disappeared in a sea of dark robes, glittering hair clips and sparks of light.

“I’ll be right behind you,” April said half aloud, seeing Will turn to her, his eyes fixed on her questioningly. But April just shook her head, let herself fall back as the stream of other students flowed past her.

The cloister was deserted, and April leaned against one of the walls and took a deep breath. Her pulse returned to normal and April’s mind slowly began to clear up. She looked around her. The candles were lined up, one next to the other, on the wall ledges. The image conveyed something so peaceful that April felt calmness begin to spread through her body. No racing heart, no crazy flood of images. There was only her breath flowing through her body, filling her lungs and oxygenating her organs. Her hands stopped shaking and she placed them flat against the stone wall behind her. April closed her eyes and concentrated fully on the feeling of the cold stone under her fingers. She felt a little further, feeling the bumps and tiny protrusions, and then she heard someone step in front of her. April blinked in surprise as she looked into her brother’s eyes instead of Jack Rosier’ because for some reason she had expected to see the strange young man in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” Will asked April and then took her in his arms. She sank against him and closed her eyes. His scent calmed her more than anything else, and if she had felt a residue of excitement and confusion in her body seconds ago, Will’s touch took that away too, leaving peace and calm.

“I had a vision,” April whispered softly close to Will’s ear. He tightened his arms around her and hugged his sister closer to him. He felt her heartbeat against his chest and then a sudden fear spread through his stomach. In a low voice, April told him about what she had seen, but never mentioned that it had been Jack Rosier’s gaze that had stirred the flood of images or what had happened between them in the Bone Church. Her cheeks still flushed remembering their encounter in the confessional. April stopped talking and only now did she realise the tears running down her cheeks.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Will whispered, pulling her even closer to him and burying his face in her hair. “It’s going to be all right,” he murmured, gently cradling his sister in his arms. And while he stroked his sister’s back, comforting, holding her close, he inhaled her scent deeply. The smell that reminded him of tender nights, cuddles and his sister’s face in the pale moonlight that fell through the curtains of his bedroom; her regular breathing and the beating of her heart so close next to him, while his fingers played with the dark strands of her hair.

Chapter 2

Calcinatio

“I continued in oblivion lost, My head was resting on my love; Lost to all things and myself, And, amid the lilies forgotten, Threw all my cares away.”– St. John of the Cross, The Dark Night of the Soul

The dusty light of the morning sun fell through a narrow gap in the velvet curtains. April blinked into the whitish light and turned onto her side. She had only just woken up and was still half asleep. Nevertheless, she fumbled on her bedside table for her wristwatch – it was just after seven. April stifled a groan and buried her face in the quilt. She yawned and closed her eyes, only to open them again as the memories of the previous night slowly seeped back into her consciousness. Sleep had washed away the intensity and now in the sober light of the new day, April could look at the images she had seen in her vision with calmer thoughts. Until now, April didn’t know how and where to place the images, nor did anything about them seem familiar. Either the images were simply the product of her wild imagination and an excess of sensory impressions and overload, or April would simply have to be patient and wait to see if the images would materialize, in one way or another.

April sat up in her bed and let her eyes wander round the room. A total of 21 girls slept in the dormitory, divided into three classes. The school’s teaching staff preferred to teach the apprentices in smaller groups, especially as the teaching of alchemy demanded a great deal of precision and attention, and nothing made a situation more confusing than too many people in one room, especially young people. This, and the fact that alchemy required a lot of prior training, was the