Twenty-Four

I’d found a backward alchemist and hadn’t even known it.

Worse yet, the backward alchemist had turned the tables. While I’d been blindly seeking someone like Lucien, he knew exactly who I was. And he’d followed me to Portland. But why? He’d taken the time to lead me on with talk of the obscure book that could have helped me locate backward alchemists, but it now seemed he never meant to send the book at all.

“Why?” I croaked. “Why is he here?”

Percy seemed surprised by my expression of horror. Had he expected me to be surprised or disbelieving instead?

“I take it you know what that means, to be a backward alchemist,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I didn’t figure you for the type to know about that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Not untrue alchemy.”

Not Untrue Alchemy. The translated name of Dorian’s book.

“That’s what they call it these days, you know,” Percy continued. “‘Backward alchemy’ is so passé.”

“What they practice isn’t true alchemy,” I murmured mostly to myself. “But it’s not completely false either. So they practice not untrue alchemy.” He was talking about a phrase, I realized, not the name of Dorian’s book itself.

Percy nodded. “Lucien Augustin is a very dangerous man.”

“Percy, what the devil is going on? A backward alchemist is following me—and you! You let us think you were dead.”

“I didn’t have a choice—” He started to raise his voice but glanced around the café and broke off. “I know you’ve got no reason to trust me,” he continued in an earnest whisper, “but I want to help you.”

“Why? You never made a secret of the fact you despised me.”

“Half a century can do a lot for one’s maturity. It took me awhile, Zoe, but I’ve grown up. I may look nearly as young as the day you last saw me, but I’ve had a lot of time to think. You and I may not have always gotten along—”

“An understatement.”

“—but you’re the only family I’ve got.”

I, too, had lost my entire family long ago. Aside from my beloved brother Thomas, I hadn’t been close with my immediate family. They didn’t question the ways of Salem Village and were quick to judge when I was accused of witchcraft simply because I had an “unnaturally good” way with plants. My connection to plants and aptitude for plant alchemy weren’t witchcraft. My only “crimes” were helping the vegetables and grains on my family’s plot of land grow more robustly than our neighbors.

My brother and I fled the village instead of waiting for me to be condemned to death as a witch, but Thomas died only a few years later. It wasn’t until I met Ambrose that I felt like I had a family again.

I looked straight into Percy’s eyes. “Ambrose would want me to hear you out,” I said. “His love of you was so great.” My voice broke. Of all the unexpected things life had thrown my way, I never thought I’d see Percy again. And looking so much like his father.

“Once, that didn’t mean as much to me as it should have,” Percy said. “I know I took Father for granted. And you too. Like I said, I’ve grown up.” He gave me an embarrassed smile before his eyes darted around the teashop again. “Look, is there somewhere we can talk in private? I’ll tell you everything, but I’m worried about Lucien. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t want him to find me here in Portland.”

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“But—”

“Stay inside and I’ll be right back.”

I rushed outside to call Dorian. My hands shook as I dialed, but I relaxed slightly after getting a good look at the people on the sidewalk near Blue Sky Teas. They were all far too hip to be Lucien, even in disguise.

So Lucien had followed me to Portland. That explained why he hadn’t answered the phone at the bookshop. It also meant there was probably no book that would give me the answers to save Dorian. Well, maybe there was a book that held answers about people who’d died at the hands of backward alchemists practicing at Notre Dame, but not one that he’d share with me. But why had Lucien followed me here?

I thought that if I could find a backward alchemist he could answer my questions, but I hadn’t thought through the reality of the situation. Lucien must have known what I was to follow me to Portland, but he didn’t reveal himself to me. He wasn’t going to let go of his secrets easily. My grand plan was in shambles.

After completing our special sequence of coded rings, Dorian picked up the phone.

“I’m bringing someone over to the house who shouldn’t see you,” I said. “Get whatever you need to stay in the attic for a couple of hours.”

“Max is moving in?” an indignant gargoyle replied.

“What? No. Why would you say that?”

“He is why you did not come home last night, was it not? Yet you do not sound happy, like people in the movies after they have—”

“Max has nothing to do with what’s going on this morning. Ambrose’s son Percy is here.”

A pause on the other end of the line. “I thought he died many years ago.”

“I thought so too. I need to talk to him in private, so I’m bringing him over to the house.”

“You can trust him?”

I hesitated before answering. “Not completely. That’s why I want you—and Non Degenera Alchemia—out of sight.”

“Why is there such fear in your voice?”

“I’ll explain everything as soon as I understand it myself.”

“No matter. I will simply listen through the pipes.”

“Fine. Wait, what?”

“From the attic, there is a way to access the audio qualities of the plumbing in the house.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been able to listen in on downstairs conversations all this time?”

“I only recently discovered it, during the party. And you have been away—”

“What party?”

Dorian cleared his throat. “I misspoke. My English, it is not so good.”

“Your English is perfect, Dorian. What party?”

Dorian sighed. “Brixton and his friends wanted to have an end-of-the-school-year party. They were supposed to have it at Ethan’s home, while the boy’s parents were out of town, but his parents came home unexpectedly. Brixton asked me if they could have the party at your house. He already had a key … ”

“Do you realize all the dangerous elements in my alchemy lab—” Was that the reason the items in my basement alchemy lab had been askew when I arrived home? Oh God, if kids had gotten in there …

Dorian clicked his tongue. “You think I did not consider this? The basement and the attic were securely locked. The children were only allowed on the first floor. I listened through the pipes to make sure they did not get into trouble.”

“How could you—”

“If I had not allowed them use of the house, they would have gone somewhere else—perhaps somewhere more dangerous, like those Shanghai Tunnels they used to sneak into. But … qu’est-ce que a ‘jello shot’ I heard them speak of while giggling? When I cleaned up the last mess that Brixton made, I did not see a dessert mold.”

I groaned, but I had more important things to worry about than unchaperoned fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds getting drunk off jello shots. Even though he could be infuriating, Dorian would take care of Brixton and his friends. A trustworthy gargoyle chaperone was better than no adult oversight in the dangerous tunnels under the city.

“Percy and I will be there in a few minutes,” I said.

In front of Blue Sky Teas, I looked through the large windows to where Percy sat under the weeping fig tree, with his hands wrapped gently around a mug of tea. My throat tightened. He looked so much like his father.

Were my feelings for Ambrose getting in the way of a rational decision? Was I fooling myself that I could trust a word Percy spoke?