The Alchemist's Apprentice Read online

  I looked at the stairwell and gritted my teeth. A textbook, one of my textbooks, lay at the bottom of the stairs. It had been in the garret ... I cringed as I realised Reginald and his friends were tearing apart my room. They were going to be very disappointed, I thought savagely. There was nothing in there but clothes and my small collection of books. I didn’t think that any of them were rare, let alone unique. Reginald could probably buy a dozen copies of each volume out of pocket change.

  The wards flickered, suddenly. I felt them brush against my magic, bearing down on me for a long moment before fading away. The magical protections were starting to go haywire. I swallowed, hard, as I realised what it meant. Master Travis was dead. He had to be dead. The wards wouldn’t react so badly if he was merely stunned. And they weren’t falling on me ... he’d keyed me into the wards, but he hadn’t designated me his heir. I turned and hurried to the counter as the wards flared again. If I was lucky, they’d go after Reginald and his goons first.

  They’ll be coming down in a hurry , I thought, numbly. I hadn’t even been born when Master Travis had set up the wards. There was a good chance that whoever inherited the shop would have to hire a qualified wardsmith to dismantle whatever was left of Master Travis’s protections before he could move in. Unless they’re already dead .

  I yanked open the cash drawer without thinking - thankfully, the wards protecting the money were of a more recent vintage - and tipped the coins into a moneybag as quickly as I could. It wasn’t much, but there was no time to go upstairs to the concealed safe. The sounds from the floor above were growing louder, despite the wards lashing out in all directions. Reginald was either brave or foolish enough to continue the search even though the wards might turn on him at any moment. I tried to reach out to them, but my connection was gone. The wards didn’t recognise me any longer. Master Travis was definitely dead.

  There was no time to mourn. I grabbed a handful of ingredients and potion vials - some of them would be worth a great deal of money, if I sold them to the right people - and hurried to the door. The wards lashed out at me, trying to trap me in the shop; I gritted my teeth, then forced the door open. Something howled in my mind, an instant before the door unwillingly crashed open to allow me to escape. A second later, the wards snapped out of existence completely. I heard the sound of falling masonry as I fled onto the street.

  That will surprise the bastards , I thought, bitterly. Master Travis had used the wards to prop up the rickety building. I wouldn’t be too surprised if the roof started to cave in as soon as the wards collapsed. The floors weren’t too secure either. They might find themselves trapped in the rubble .

  It was quiet on the streets, but a handful of people stared at me as I ran out of the shop. Everyone within a block or two would have felt the wards going haywire. They knew me - they knew I wasn’t a thief - but I didn’t want to answer questions. I had no idea what I’d say. I forced myself to keep moving, crossing the road as I heard more banging and crashing from behind me. I needed a chance to sit down and think. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get it.

  “Fire,” someone shouted. “Fire!”

  I reached the other side of the road and turned. The apothecary was on fire. Flames were already licking the upper floor windows. My heart plummeted. Reginald and his goons must have set the fire. I couldn’t think of any other explanation. They’d found whatever they wanted to find - perhaps - and now they were trying to hide the evidence. And then ...

  My heart ran cold. The ironhold. If the flames reached the ironhold, the entire block would go up in a single massive fireball. The Dragon Scales alone would be more than enough to knock down the building. Their explosion would set off every other ingredient in the ironhold. I hoped the wards were still in place, although I doubted they were strong enough to contain the explosion if everything went off at once. Master Travis had designed them to redirect an explosion upwards, where the other wards could help dampen it, but the other wards were gone. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to be anywhere near the apothecary when the flames reached the ironhold.

  The door crashed open, again. Three dark figures ran out, their cloaks pulled tight to conceal their identities. I opened my mouth to shout a warning, then closed it again as Reginald and his friends ran down the street at terrifying speed. No one tried to stop them. They were too busy watching the flames or organising bucket brigades. A handful of young men were already bringing buckets from the nearest canal, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. The ingredients in the ironhold would defy any attempt to quench the blaze.

  I waved desperately at the man who had assumed command - I knew him, vaguely - but it was already too late. A thunderous roar echoed through the air as the building collapsed, dragging down the two neighbouring buildings with it. I hoped the inhabitants had had a chance to run as the rubble crashed down, destroying the evidence beyond all hope of recovery. The ironhold was either sealed or ...

  The building exploded into a colossal fireball. I turned and fled, running for my life as pieces of debris crashed down all over the street. I heard people screaming behind me - I saw burning embers fly through the air - but I didn’t dare stop. The ground shook below my feet. I remembered, suddenly, the maze of underground tunnels, water pipes and warehouses below Water Shallot. The explosion might have done far more than merely knock down a few buildings. I couldn’t even begin to imagine just how much damage Reginald had caused.

  I caught sight of a cluster of city guardsmen hurrying towards the apothecary and felt my heart sink. I was going to be blamed. Reginald and his family had more than enough clout to make sure I was blamed. I was just a half-caste shopgirl. No one would believe me if I told them Reginald and his goons had started the fire. I’d be lucky if they merely enslaved me for the rest of my life. I couldn’t let them take me alive.

  My heart was pounding in my chest as I turned and walked away, not daring to run for fear it would catch their attention. The City Guard had a nasty reputation for arresting people first and asking questions later, when they bothered to ask questions at all. And when they realised what sort of ingredients had exploded and taken out a handful of shops, they’d hand the case over to the Kingsmen. I didn’t think the Kingsmen were any more likely to listen to me. The evidence had been destroyed in the blast. It would be my word against Reginald’s and no one would listen to me.

  I stumbled as I reached the bridge across the canal, then sat on one of the hard wooden benches by the towpath. My body ached, as if I’d aged fifty years in less than a day. I rubbed at my arms and legs, trying to make them feel better. It didn’t work, not at first. I had to rub for several minutes before the uncomfortable sensation started to fade away. And I had the feeling it would be hours before it was completely gone.

  A barge was making its slow way down to the docks, towed by a pair of oxen; I considered, just for a second, jumping onto the barge in the hopes it would take me away from the apothecary. But there was no point. Even if the sailors didn’t catch me, it wouldn’t get me out of Water Shallot. The only way to leave the island was to cross into North or South Shallot and that meant passing the guardsmen on the bridges. I was far too recognisable for them to miss me. My slanted eyes alone would draw their attention like flies to honey.

  They’ll be stopping all the half-caste girls , I thought, as the barge vanished into one of the canal tunnels. And if they catch me, they won’t let me go.

  I tried to think, but nothing came to mind. I had nothing, save for a bag of copper and silver coins. I had nowhere to go. I had no hope of finding help. No one was going to risk helping me, not if the City Guard had already ordered my arrest. My friends were probably already being interrogated. Ginny and the others were probably already regretting ever having set eyes on me.

  And then it hit me. Master Travis was dead.

  Chapter Ten

  I don’t know how long I sat there.

  My mind ran in circles. Master Travis was dead. He had to be dead. I didn
’t want to believe it. I’d loved the old man like a father, the father I’d never had. And yet, there was no way to escape the cold harsh truth. The wards wouldn’t have collapsed so violently - and they wouldn’t have lashed out at me - if their creator hadn’t died. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it was true.

  Master Travis was dead.

  I blinked away tears as a cold wind blew across the canal. People were shouting in the distance - it sounded as if a riot had broken out - but I didn’t care. It wasn’t important, not now. I hadn’t cried often, not since my stepfather had clouted me for fighting with my half-sister, but now ... now I wanted to cry. Master Travis was dead, and all my hopes and dreams had died with him. Who would take me as an apprentice now? Who would even want me as a shopgirl? Even Clive would have second thoughts about marriage when he realised I was in deep trouble. I wondered, morbidly, just how much I’d have to pay to get a room for the night. Hopefully, I’d be able to pay with money.

  There was nothing I could do, either. Master Travis had no family, as far as I knew. I didn’t know who should be informed of his death. I didn’t have anyone to contact, anyone who might remember him fondly enough to give his former apprentice a hand. I felt a stab of pure hatred, aimed at Reginald and his entire family. Damn them. Damn them to an ancestor-less wasteland. They’d shattered my life, for what? Did Reginald know what he’d done? Did he even care? Had he noticed I’d left the shop before it exploded? He’d probably cast that particular spell just to make sure the flames would get me too. I shuddered in horror at the fate he’d planned for me. I’d have stood there, watching helplessly as the flames advanced. Unless, of course, the roof caved in and put me out of my misery first.

  Bitter tears ran down my face. There was nothing I could do. There was no way I could seek revenge. It would be hard enough to get to North Shallot, let alone Bolingbroke Hall. And what would I do when I got there? Reginald’s family were powerful; he was powerful, powerful enough to swat me like a bug. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my days croaking on a lily pad. Reginald was a sadist. It was just the sort of thing he would do. He’d destroyed my entire life and ... and he would never be punished for it.

  I tried to focus, to count my blessings. But there were none. Master Travis was dead. I was a girl alone. I had money, but not enough to set up on my own ... assuming, of course, that I didn’t get mugged. I’d always been protected by my master’s reputation - and I’d taken care to remain indoors after dark - yet now I was alone. Everyone in Water Shallot probably knew, by now, that Master Travis was dead. They might even think I was dead too.

  They saw me flee the shop , I thought. The sound of shouting was growing louder. I could hear whistles blowing in the distance. They know I’m alive .

  I wiped my face as I stood, brushing down my skirt. My dress wouldn’t excite comment, if someone saw me in the streets, but my face would attract attention. I wished, suddenly, that I’d let Ginny teach me a few glamours. She’d claimed it would disguise my half-caste features, but I’d always turned her down. I hadn’t wanted to attract a young man. Besides, if I did, what would I tell him? Should I take down the glamours on the wedding night? It didn’t strike me as a very good way to start a marriage.

  Improvise , I told myself. You can’t stay here .

  I muttered a careful spell, darkening my skin. It wouldn’t last for long, but it should let me pass unnoticed for a few hours. They’d be looking for a half-caste with tinted brown skin, not a black girl who looked as if she might have been born in North Cairnbulg. It was harder to disguise my eyes - I didn’t know how to cast transfiguration spells and I wouldn’t dare cast them on myself if I did - but as long as no one looked too closely I should pass muster. The City Guard might decide I was a half-caste with a different background. I hoped they wouldn’t be trying to get all the half-castes off the streets.

  That will probably start a riot , I thought, as I crossed the bridge and headed away from the canal. They’d be much better off if they posted a large reward for me instead .

  It wasn’t a pleasant thought. There were people in Water Shallot who would happily sell their own mothers for enough cash to drown themselves in drink. The northern parts of the island might pride themselves on being poor but proud; the southern parts were too poor to allow themselves any delusions of pride. They lived far too close to the edge of disaster to think twice about taking the money, even if it meant betraying me. It wasn’t as if they knew me. I was just a meal ticket as far as they were concerned.

  A squad of guardsmen appeared around the corner and rushed straight at me. I stepped to one side, trying to conceal my terror. Had they found me? I didn’t think they would have been able to recover something from the shop that would have led them to me - I was always careful when handling bloodstained rags - but I would be in serious trouble if I was wrong. A drop of my blood would be enough to let them track me down, wherever I went. The guards came closer and ran past, without even taking the time to leer. They had to be in a hurry. I hadn’t seen guardsmen run like that since the House War. That time, they’d been trying to get away.

  I smirked at the thought, then hurried onwards. There was only one person I thought wouldn’t betray me, if I asked her for help. My mother and I had barely exchanged twenty words since my stepfather had proclaimed me an adult, but she wouldn’t betray me. Her reputation would never survive. I might have been a living reminder of her indiscretion, but I was still her daughter. No one would ever trust her again if she betrayed her flesh and blood.

  It took me nearly an hour to reach the northern blocks, on the edge of the Shallot River. The streets seemed deserted, save for a handful of washerwomen hanging tattered and patched clothes on the line. Everyone who was old enough to work had left with the crack of dawn, I was sure, while the kids had gone to school. My half-sisters were old enough to go into service for themselves, but my stepfather had insisted they stay in school until they were sixteen. He hoped a good education would give them a chance to marry well or rise out of Water Shallot. I supposed he had a point. My half-sisters could find work easily if they had the right paperwork.

  But they won’t be able to marry well if they stay here , I mused. They’ll be too educated for the average man .

  The street - my street - looked identical to every other street in the quadrant. A single temple, dedicated to the city’s ancestors, at the corner; a long line of identical houses, each one so alike that they were completely stripped of all individuality. I walked past them, feeling the spell I’d cast on my skin starting to fade. Thankfully, no one was in view. I stopped outside my old house, feeling an odd pang as I stared at the window. My stepfather hadn’t done too badly, I supposed, but it had never been my home. He’d made sure of that long before I’d gone into service. He hadn't even given me a key! I braced myself, then reached for the doorknocker. The door opened before I could touch it.

  I almost took a step back as my stepfather glared at me. He was a strong, powerfully-built man with piggish eyes, a scarred face and heavy fists. I knew how hard his hands could hurt, when he was angry or drunk or just looking for an excuse to remind me - once again - that I wasn’t his daughter. For once, I couldn’t smell alcohol on his breath. I hoped that was a good sign. He was a thoroughly unpleasant drunk.

  “Don’t say a word,” he hissed. “Come with me.”

  He caught my arm before I could think better of it and dragged me into the house. It felt empty, as if my mother was elsewhere. I looked around, hoping to see her, but we were alone. He pulled me down the corridor and into the back garden, with a pitiful patch of grass leading down to the river. A handful of boats were sailing up to the docks at North Shallot. I clenched my teeth against the pain as his grip tightened. It crossed my mind, suddenly, that I might have made a terrible mistake. My mother wouldn’t betray me, but my stepfather ...?

  I swallowed a curse as he swung me around to face him. My shoes squelched on muddy ground.

  “What have you don
e?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, reminding myself that I was legally an adult. He’d practically kicked me out of the family. “I need ...”

  “The pigs came around today,” my stepfather hissed. It took me a moment to realise he meant the City Guard. “They were asking about you. I told them you were too grand to see us any longer.”