forty

It was nearly ten o’clock by the time I got home.

I made good time on the three-hour drive to Seattle, including having the good fortune to avoid the speeding ticket I deserved. Finding the book dealer’s shop was another story, but he generously agreed to stay open later so I could retrieve the book. Ethan paid enough for the book that he really had no choice.

I was thankful for Ethan’s generosity, but I knew I couldn’t accept it. As soon as I got my alchemy lab into proper shape, I’d transmute some lead into gold. Either that or become a much better businesswoman.

Brixton had wanted to accompany me on the drive, but I thought it best not to subject him to my anxious mood and the high speeds I planned on testing out in my old truck. The speedometer went to one hundred, and although I’d occasionally driven fast on the open road, most of the time I’d had the truck it had been attached to my trailer. It was time to test my truck, and it came through.

I slammed the door of the truck and rushed to the house, cradling the book in my arms. I left Dorian doing yoga stretches while reading the newspaper—two forms of distracting movement were better than one. As I came through the door, he was nowhere in sight.

“Dorian?”

“Aidez moi!” The panicked voice came from the kitchen.

I found him standing on his stool, facing the counter. His wings were askew, one of them partially unfurled as stone.

“Can you move?” I asked.

“I am so glad you have returned. My fingers are too stiff to properly stir the batter for these crepes! There are lumps. Lumps!”

I smiled to myself. I’d gotten home in time.

“We have more important things to do than make crepes,” I said. “Get down from there and come with me to the basement.”

With what Ivan and I had pieced together about backward alchemy, I had a much better idea about what I should look for in the book. I didn’t have as many ingredients in my laboratory as I would have liked, nor did I have a full understanding of backward alchemy, but tonight I was going to perform a quick fix. I never thought I’d hear myself say that again, but that was the very nature of backward alchemy’s death rotation: sacrificing one element for another to skip the laborious process of true alchemy.

My vibrant herbs were the sacrifice. They had been lovingly cared for, which gave them power. Turning the pages of Not Untrue Alchemy with shaking hands, I found a section that suggested, in coded illustrations, how to use mercury to dissolve plants without going through the usual steps that required weeks or months.

For the next two hours, I crushed and extracted the essences of the fresh herbs, working backward by beginning with fire. The resulting ashes weren’t the true salt that alchemists strive to achieve, but was none-the-less salt. Of the three essential ingredients of alchemy, mercury is the spirit, sulfur the soul, and salt the body. Salt was what I needed to save Dorian’s deteriorating body.

I didn’t know if this strangely transformed salt should be ingested or topically applied, so I tried both. While I dissolved the salt in a tea-like decoction, I also made a paste to cover Dorian’s skin. The gargoyle eyed the gooey paste skeptically, so we tried the tea first.

At nearly the stroke of midnight, the stone pieces of Dorian’s body began to shimmer. His stone leg returned to gray flesh, granule by granule. He was able to move, but the skin on his leg was a lighter shade of gray than it had been. He wasn’t the gargoyle he once was.

He smiled and hopped up into my arms to give me a hug. Terribly undignified for a Frenchmen, and my back nearly gave out under the heavy weight of his stone body, but I wasn’t complaining.

“I knew, Zoe Faust, that I could count on you.”

I hugged Dorian back, happy he couldn’t see the mixed emotions flashing across my face. Though relief was at the forefront, worry was close behind. The unnatural alchemy I’d performed to stop Dorian’s deterioration was a quick fix that hadn’t fully healed Dorian. It wasn’t a real cure. There was much more I would need to do to discover the book’s secrets and stop Dorian’s body from once again becoming a stone prison.

“This isn’t a cure, you know,” I said, setting Dorian down. “There’s more work to be done.”

“You said this book is backward, and takes from other life forces?”

“There’s still a lot I don’t understand, but that appears to be the case.”

His snout quivered. “Does this mean,” he said slowly, speaking barely above a whisper, “that I am evil?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head and feeling tears well up in my eyes. “It doesn’t mean that. I don’t yet understand what brought you to life, but the gargoyle you are—the gargoyle I know—isn’t evil.”

“Someone else did not have to die to bring me to life? Only the plants?”

I hesitated. “Nobody died for this temporary fix. That much I know. As for a permanent solution… I wish I knew, Dorian. I’ll figure it out, though. I promise.”

I knew I should be happy in the present moment. Dorian was safe. But for how long?

———

The following week was a blur.

Blue was out on bail. Charges had been filed against her for the illegal things she did to change her identity, but Max thought there was a good chance she’d only get probation.

When I stopped by Blue Sky Teas, Blue greeted me with a proposition. She’d heard about what a great cook I was, and also that I was underemployed. She made me an offer to bake vegan treats for the teashop. I happily accepted on the spot, without consulting Dorian. I knew he’d love the idea of yet another excuse to experiment with recipes, plus it could be his contribution to the huge food bills I was incurring.

Nobody could believe what Sam had done. Once people heard he’d done it for his aunt, they realized it made a certain kind of sense. But when they remembered his aunt was curmudgeonly Olivia, it again made less sense. Olivia hadn’t made an appearance at the teashop, so nobody was sure how she was doing.

Brixton was more dedicated to keeping Dorian’s secret than ever, and he was enjoying the cooking lessons the gargoyle was giving him. I think he even appreciated the weeding he was doing for me. As we prepared the yard for spring planting, he peppered me with questions about plants and alchemy.

He, Veronica, and Ethan said they had given up their tunnel explorations, as well as every other type of dare they used to come up with for each other. I wasn’t sure how long that would last, but I was pleased it sounded like the kids wouldn’t get into too much trouble for a while.

Dorian was in denial that his health would again begin to deteriorate, so I was left to my own devices to decipher the book. Well, I wasn’t completely on my own. Ivan was eager to help. Although he didn’t know I was a true alchemist or that Dorian existed, he was happy to have found a fellow enthusiast of the history of alchemy. He’d been depressed after being forced into his early retirement, so he was overjoyed to have an ongoing alchemy project that would drive his passion to finish his book.

I was getting ready to return a two-foot-high stack of library books when Max Liu appeared on my doorstep.

Looking at him through the peephole, I paused with my hand on the doorknob. I pressed my forehead to the door and closed my eyes. Should I open the door? My heart beat a little quicker as I remembered his kiss. The electrifying kiss that I’d pulled away from.

He and I could never work. Rationally, I knew that. But that was my problem. I wasn’t as rational as I wanted to believe. I tried to take a sensible course of action, living on the road, staying away from attachments, and giving up alchemy after it caused me so much pain. I’d once transformed myself accidentally, becoming an accidental alchemist. Maybe, just maybe, I was finally ready to transform myself on purpose. Here in Portland, I’d found a place that made me want to stop running from myself. I didn’t know what would become of me, but I was open to the possibilities.

I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and turned the doorknob.

“Peace offering,” Max said, holding out a bundle of fragrant jasmine green tea. In his other hand he held a canvas bag with greens poking over the top.

“Peace offering for what?”

“I was way out of line the other day,” he said. “First at your dinner party, and then in the tunnels. I was just so happy to see that you were okay—”

“I accept your apology for how you acted about my herbal remedy at the dinner party.” I took the tea and ushered him inside, giving me a second to think. “As for what happened in the tunnels, there’s no need to apologize.”

“But your boyfriend …”

I let the question hang in the air for a moment. His assumption gave me the perfect excuse, but I no longer wanted it. “I was being serious when I said he’s just a friend. Veronica has an overactive imagination. I have a friend who’s French. That’s it.”

Max was smart. I thought it best to stick to the truth. By keeping things simple, I could do that.

“I was hoping that was true. In that case, could I cook you dinner?” He held up the bag with greens poking over the side and gave me an endearing smile that hovered between confident and shy. “I’m not nearly as good a chef as you are, but I feel bad about how your dinner party ended the other night. It’s the least I can do.”

I felt warmth rise in my cheeks. “I’d like that very much.”

Max paused on our way to the kitchen. Something in the living room had caught his eye.

“What is it?” I asked. “Don’t tell me there’s something else falling apart in this house.”

“You throw me off balance, Zoe,” he said, breaking off with an embarrassed look on his face. “I mean that in a good way. It’s your gargoyle statue. I could have sworn it scowled at me as soon as I made a move for the kitchen.”

THE END