Ethan Wright and the Alchemist's Order, (Book 2) Read Free Page A

expect to get paid for this,” he griped. He pulled out a magnifying glass and held the jacket in the light. He held it close and then further back, much like Edison had earlier. “Well … I’ll be….”
    “More than one line then?”
    “A lot more. There are so many, that … they sorta blend together. I don’t know how accurate these jackets are … and if you’re here lookin’ for a refund … you know this alchemy level garbage is a new feature for these jackets. There’s no guarantees on this.”
    “No, no — no refund needed. But just out of curiosity … what level is Ethan?”
    “I dunno … why don’t you count ‘em?” groused the man.
    Edison reached into his pocket and placed a couple coins on the counter. “Because my eyesight is terrible, and that’s what I’m paying you for.”
    “Fine, fine,” grumbled the man as he seized the coins and stashed them behind the counter. He took a small needle from a drawer and started counting.
    “Are you up to twenty? How many is that now?” asked Edison, fidgeting with his spectacles.
    “Shut up already, Edison — you’ll make me lose track.”
    “Yes, alright,” muttered the professor.
    The man put the needle and the magnifying glass down. “About sixty,” he stated.
    “Sixty?!” exclaimed Edison. “Wait … you mean ‘about sixty’? Or exactly sixty?”
    “I counted fifty-nine, but sixty sounded nicer … so I rounded up, if that’s okay with you,” said the man smartly.
    “A level fifty-nine … that is the highest I have ever heard,” mumbled Edison to himself. He leaned back in his chair, relieved that Ethan was not a level one, but shocked at the level the jacket inferred he was. “You know my visits require discretion, as always.”
    “Of course,” said the man as he held out his hand, “and I get a little extra … as always.”
    Edison sighed, reached into his pocket, and handed the man a few more coins. They were quickly snatched, and the salesman leaned back in his chair. Edison had the feeling the man was satisfied, although his face was covered in shadow again.
    “You gonna tell him?” asked the man.
    “Well … no … I don’t rightly know if I should, at least … not yet,” explained Edison, picking up the jacket. “Hypothetically speaking, if people found out how much power he had, he would be feared by many in the city … or the Castellan might try and use him as a weapon.”
    “With that much power, he could kill someone, or himself — wonder if you had that much power, if you could kill a boy who can’t die … just, you know … hypothetically speaking.”

Chapter 2
The Death of an Alchemist
    The hut looked more disorganized than usual. Wegnel had quite an array of broken gadgets strewn about his shelves, and a very peculiar device on the table next to the magic chair Ethan had just traveled through. He thought Wegnel’s ramblings, however, were as long and drawn out as ever.
    “So, Ethan, here to get your cat finally, eh? I’ve been telling you for years, well not years, but as long as you and I have talked about cats, and especially your cat — he is a special one isn’t he?”
    “Yeah, Wegnel,” answered Ethan quickly, to get a word in.
    “If you insert that alpha into any kind of feline pack, it would most certainly be leader, and in your case, it’s going to lead your alchemy squad, is it not?” rambled Wegnel, his wrinkles bulging against his beady eyes.
    “He’s not going to lead the squad, Wegnel. He’s going to train with us and eventually become a tracker. Edison says cats are in tune with certain environments that have alchemical properties applied,” explained Ethan, sitting down at the table. He picked up a few of the gears, suspecting they came from the broken gadget on the table. He examined them closely in an attempt to discover how they would fit in the casing next to him.
    “Ah yes, Edison Rupert … what a good alchemist, he sure has his head on straight, unlike some