Alchemy of Secrets

by Stephanie Garber

“You’re here because of a story,” she says. “Now I’m going to tell you another one.”

He looked more Clark Kent than Superman, with the type of dark- rimmed glasses that had always been her personal kryptonite.

The only way to live past tomorrow is to find the Alchemical Heart.”

“I told you we’re not breaking in,” she argued. “We’re also not the first ones here.” He pressed two fingers against one of the Professor’s French doors, easily pushing it open. A second later, all the lights switched on. And then, everything was chaos.

They believed that fifteen years ago, her father had found the Alchemical Heart. And he had hidden it for his daughters.

Holland had never understood the fascination men had with cars. In her ideal world, everyone would ride bicycles, beach cruisers preferably, with baskets and glossy coats of colorful paint. Instead of honking horns, people would ring little bike bells, they’d wave hellos instead of flipping people off, and the world would be an all-around happier place. At least for her.

Gabe waved a magnanimous hand toward the entry. But he was once again looking at Holland as if she was holding on to a secret made of gunpowder. Something big and explosive, with the power to destroy them both.

“Are you joking?” “I’m not really known for my sense of humor, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure there’s a bank here?” she asked Gabe. Then she saw it, about one hundred yards away. It took up an entire block. An absurdly tall, jade-green jewel of a building with a dazzling gold art deco pattern cutting across its endless floors of windows.

The dark night might get its time every day, but the sun will always rise and put it out.”

After the inedible gumballs was a series of disturbing carnival games, naked mannequins, a very lifelike clown, and then— Tom stopped abruptly at an antique desk, and the smile fell from his face. “What’s wrong?” Holland asked. “It’s gone.”

“You shouldn’t touch me.” She tried to pull away, but Adam held her fingers tight. “You’re not going to hurt me, Holland.” “You don’t know that.” “Or maybe I just don’t care.”

Adam was dressed like Cross from Knife and Cross, in dark leather breeches, tall boots, a loose brown shirt with sleeves rolled up, and two belts of weapons slung low on his hips. He was twirling another weapon around his fingers—a knife with an intricate hilt. The blade fell from his hands as soon as he saw Holland. She tried not to smile.

“How do you know that if this has never happened?” “Because I know Adam.” Mason met her gaze like a challenge. “Don’t underestimate him because he has a pretty face.”

The dead are meant to stay dead. When they come back, there are always consequences … Do the right thing. Leave what’s better left untouched in the past, think about the future, and move on.