The Alchemist's Apprentice

By Samara Rowling

“Do you like magic, Athena?”
Twelve year old Athena Ambrose has waited her whole life for something extraordinary to happen to her. So when a spell from an ancient book whisks her off to a faraway land where the king’s alchemist, Tanoak Drake offers to take her on as his apprentice, it’s like a dream come true. But there’s something strange about Tan and his mysterious companion, Mephisto – who knows more about Athena’s world than he’s willing to admit – something sinister. Trapped, with no way home, Athena is determined to uncover their secrets if it’s the last thing she does...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samara Rowling
• Release date: Oct 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310404023

Samara Rowling

Samara Rowling is a librarian who moonlights as a bookseller. She also writes books. The Alchemist's Apprentice is her first novel.

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The Alchemist's Apprentice

Samara Rowling

Published by Samara Rowling at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Samara Rowling

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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CHAPTER ONE

The Grimoire was hundreds of years old, and only fifty cents. Twelve-year-old Athena Ambrose discovered the ancient, yellowed book while picking through the pre-loved tomes at Eddie’s Antique Emporium. It looked so forlorn, sitting amid stacks of dog-eared romance novels, that she picked it up, and was amazed to find it full of spells.

Cradling the book like an infant, Athena lowered herself to the carpet, stained from years of heavy traffic, breathing in the scent of frankincense that wafted from the pages. She was surprised that neither the staff, nor customers, seemed to have bothered with it; it was the kind of book Athena had only ever seen on television: leather-bound, gilt-edged, and illuminated with aged but vivid ink. She wasn’t sure how much the Grimoire was worth exactly, but she suspected most scholars would pay a fortune just to look at it, and here she was holding it, the parchment flaking hazardously beneath her fingers.

Athena considered informing the shopkeeper of her mistake, but a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that if the Grimoire were correctly priced she could never have afforded it. And she needed it. She couldn’t explain why exactly; it was a kind of hunger, only not for food.

Buy it, said the voice, buy the book.

It wasn’t so much a thought as a command that seemed to be coming from outside herself. Athena snuck a glance at the other customers in the shop, but no one was paying attention to her or the Grimoire. The blue-haired old lady behind the counter was sorting through a box of clothes; a teenage girl in fishnet stockings was examining a pair of boots; even the tall man nearest Athena was bent over a board game, admiring the brightly-coloured pieces from beneath a curtain of long hair.

She shook off the feeling, humming along to the radio as she walked up to the counter, where the old lady rang up her purchase while Athena peeked furtively around, waiting for someone to apprehend her for what amounted to near-theft. She was almost certain the cashier, whose name, according to her badge, was Rose, would come to realise their mistake, but she didn’t, or if she did, she didn’t say anything. She just took Athena’s money and put the book into a plastic bag, returning to the donation she was cataloguing.

The bell tinkled as Athena exited and the tall man looked up, but it was clear by then that no one was going to challenge her, so she let the door swing shut behind her, heading up the arcade. Though still dubious of her good luck, she tucked the book securely under her arm as she entered the plaza where her family was shopping, finally satisfied that the book was hers.

On the way to the supermarket, something in the window of Bell, Book & Candle caught Athena’s eye. The owners of the New Age store had put up a display of tools for performing Magick: herbs and powders; candles and cords; athames; poppets; and brooms. She pressed herself against the glass, cringing as she caught sight of the price tag hanging from one of the sword-like knives. There had been no mistake this time.

Athena let her fingers drift across the windowpane, wishing she could touch the silver chalices just once, or feel the velvet robes against her skin. These things spoke to her of other times; of far off places, and the kind of excitement she would never know. Though in her heart of hearts she knew the futility of such a wish, Athena would have given anything for a taste of real Magick.

‘I should have known I’d find you here. I thought you were going to the op shop?’

Athena started at the sound of her mother’s voice behind her. ‘I was. I mean, I did. I’m finished now.’

She tore her gaze away from the window in time to catch her twin sister, Emma, looking scornfully at the display, her wide blue eyes so unlike Athena’s green ones. Despite being born on the same day, they were fraternal: Emma, for the most part, took after their mother, while Athena had more the look of her father.

‘What a rip-off! I can’t believe people even buy these things!’ Emma eyed a straw poppet dubiously and even Athena had to agree that it was a poor imitation of a human being, with arms almost as thick as its head. ‘I mean, what exactly are those supposed to do? They look like those dolls Grandma Ambrose used to sell at the markets.’

Athena bit back a retort, her lips twisting into a scowl. She remembered the creepy woollen dolls well, but the poppets in the store were nothing like them. For one thing, their grandmother’s dolls couldn’t be empowered or used in spells. They couldn’t even be sold, which was why she ended up giving them to the girls, who had promptly dumped them in the charity bin at the end of their street. Those dolls were probably still sitting somewhere in a place like Eddie’s, as unloved and unwanted as ever. It was something Athena had always felt guilty about, especially since their grandmother had died the next year.

Athena shifted the Grimoire under her arm, hoping her sister wouldn’t notice it. The eldest twin by almost fifteen minutes, Emma was always acting like she knew more than Athena, especially in matters of faith. When they were six, Emma became convinced that there was no such thing as fairies. She even hid one of Athena’s teeth to prove to her twin that the tooth fairy wasn’t real. Emma’s scepticism didn’t falter when a coin appeared, however; she insisted their mother put it there, and though Athena hadn’t wholeheartedly believed her, she had never forgiven her sister for ruining the magic. That was why she couldn’t let her sister see the Grimoire now: she was afraid Emma would break the spell for her again, just like she had back then.

‘Look at the detail on those cups,’ Molly Ambrose said, pointing to the jewel-encrusted goblets on a makeshift altar. ‘They remind me of the Holy Grail.’ Her eyes roved around the display, landing warily on the blade of an athame. ‘Still, I’m not sure people should be playing with these things.’

‘People don’t play with them, Mum,’ Athena murmured, but she didn’t press the point. The truth would frighten Molly more than any knife. Like most people Athena knew, her mother didn’t believe in Magick; it scared her too much to think that it might be real.

The twins’ four-year-old brother, Howie, wasn’t all that interested in Magick either. ‘I wanna go home, Mum,’ he said, his voice rising shrilly on the final word. ‘I wanna go home.’

When Molly failed to heed his warning, Howie erupted, kicking the bars beneath his trolley seat and screeching: ‘Wanna… go… home… wanna… go… home’ in time.

A group of old ladies at a nearby café turned to glare severely at the Ambroses over their coffee and cake. The velvet-clad owner of Bell, Book & Candle emerged to see what the commotion was, her tranquil smile replaced with a look of irritation as several shoppers decided to give her store a wide berth.

Molly avoided the eyes of the onlookers as she pleaded with Howie to be quiet. When he continued to kick and bellow she snatched hold of his sandaled feet with both hands, pinning them against the bars of the trolley. ‘I know you’re bored, sweetie,’ she said, unable to keep the exasperation from her voice, ‘but Athena wants to look, okay? We just have to be patient.’

Her face was so worn and unhappy that Athena felt a pang of guilt for contributing to it. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, extracting herself from the glass. ‘I’ll come back another time.’ She gave Bell, Book & Candle one last, longing look and followed her mother out to the car park.

Emma trailed behind them at a safe distance, concerned, as usual, about being seen in the presence of her mother and a screaming child. There wasn’t much she could do about Athena, though. Everyone at school already knew they were related.

Once Molly had strapped Howie into his harness, she and the twins loaded the groceries into the boot. Then they drove home, stopping briefly to pick up dinner on the way.

Athena groaned as a greasy paper wrapped bundle was deposited onto the Grimoire in her lap. A year or two ago, takeaway had been fun; something they only did on weekends and special occasions. But now that her father was gone, dinner was always the same: pizza or burgers or, in tonight’s case, fish and chips, before Molly returned to work. After the children’s father, Howard, moved out and subsequently vanished from their lives, their mother had taken a job typing up letters and documents for a law firm downtown; these days, she brought her laptop home every night to pay for things like Howie’s childcare, neglecting all but the most essential household chores. Athena worried sometimes that they were all in danger of getting scurvy.

The Ambroses lived ten minutes away from the plaza, at 13 Maplewood Drive. It was the house all three of the children had grown up in, and the main reason Molly worked so hard was so they didn’t have to sell it. The house was the only thing that hadn’t changed during their father’s absence, and they all clung to it like a liferaft in a storm. For Athena, it represented a last link to the past; after almost three years, she was finding it hard to remember little things about her father: the exact colour of his eyes; the sound he made when he laughed; the smell of his cologne… He had long since stopped calling; stopped writing; stopped acknowledging birthdays, ceasing to be a fixture in his children’s lives. Howard Ambrose was just a ghost in their house now: someone they seldom ever spoke of, but who rarely left their thoughts.

Maplewood Drive was deserted as Molly swung into the driveway, all except for a boy Athena didn’t know.

Must be one of the new neighbours, she thought as she scrambled out of the car. She watched as he struggled with a lawnmower, stopping occasionally to wipe his face on the sleeve of his t-shirt. He couldn’t be much older than her and Emma: too young to be tasked with such an enormous responsibility. Athena wondered briefly where his father was; if he’d left his family too.

After they brought the shopping inside, Athena went up to the room she shared with Emma. Closing the door, she took a jumper from her wardrobe and stowed the Grimoire inside it, sliding it under her pillow. Then, dumping her satchel on her bed, she went down to the kitchen to help unpack the groceries and keep Howie from getting into anything that wasn’t his.

By the time Athena rejoined her family, her brother had already found a packet of biscuits and was busy liberating them from the plastic, one strip at a time.

‘I forgot to ask you what you bought at the op shop,’ Molly said, wresting them off of him while Emma set the table.

‘Nothing much, just a fifty cent book.’ Athena took the cutlery from Emma, laying a knife and fork by each plate to avoid her mother’s eyes. She wanted to tell Molly about the Grimoire, but the voice in her head whispered that her mother wouldn’t understand. She might even make Athena take it back.

‘Don’t get me wrong – I think it’s great that you love to read – but I don’t know where you’re going to put it,’ Molly said, leading Howie to the table and setting a plate of chips in front of him.

‘I’ll find somewhere,’ Athena promised. It didn’t matter that her bookcase was already full, because she knew the Grimoire was not a book she would ever put on display. She had to keep it a secret, just like the voice said.

‘Just keep it off my side,’ her sister grumbled. ‘Your stuff takes up enough space as it is.’

Dinner that night seemed to drag on forever as Athena waited for a chance to creep back upstairs. Emma got into an argument with their mother, who was refusing to buy her a mobile phone, even for her birthday; Howie broke his favourite plate; and Molly wanted to discuss the holiday care arrangements she’d made for next week. Athena listened impatiently, cramming chips into her mouth,

Reviews for The Alchemist's Apprentice

[jr · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

good. enjoyed it very much.
I would like to see more from this author. I feel she really has a knack for it.