Fallen Magic

Philippa, Beth quickly decided, was a good hostess. She’d let Beth take a deep soak in the bathtub to wash away every trace of vomit, and promised to wash her clothes and Jack’s. She’d found clothes for both of them – some hers, and some her daughter’s. (Beth wondered what had happened to the daughter.) The outfits didn’t exactly fit right, but they were clean and warm, which was what mattered.

And she cooked full meals for the three of them. Beth had expected her to have a housekeeper or a maid, living in a big house in the capital as she did. But no: she did all the chores herself, with the efficiency that came from years of practice. When Jack asked about it, she simply said it was a waste to hire someone to work for her while she was lounging around the house. Besides, she kept most of the house shut up normally.

“Are you an alchemist?” Beth asked over dinner.

Philippa shrugged. “Depends what sense of alchemist you mean.”

“What senses are there?”

“There’s the sense of, am I someone who’s currently practicing alchemy? Which I am not, or not in any meaningful sense. But there’s also the sense of, am I a Master of the Alchemists’ Guild? Which I am. And do I do important work for the Alchemists’ Guild? Which I do.”

“So you’re a retired alchemist,” Jack said. “Or semi-retired at least.”

“I suppose so, if that’s what you want to call it.”

“Why did you retire?” asked Beth.

“Alchemy is… physically demanding,” Philippa said. “Especially at a high level, and especially the kind of alchemy I worked on. I suppose you wouldn’t have encountered that so much?”

“I have,” Beth said. “Once or twice.” She was thinking of the Vuillard substance, the terror and the precision of brewing it. And she hadn’t even done much of the work for that.

“Then you’ll understand how there’s only so long you can keep doing that every day. Especially when you start to get old and have creaky bones and stiff joints.”

Beth considered that idea as she ate. She’d struggled with the Vuillard substance mostly because of the constant fear of explosions, and she assumed that most alchemy wasn’t quite that intense. But then once you were better than Beth was, good enough to be doing original research, she supposed it must get quite a bit harder than most of what Beth had done so far.

“How was Isabelle, when you last saw her?”

Beth flinched at once. She’d been trying not to think of Isabelle. “I don’t know,” she said. “Determined to do whatever it is she’s trying to do. Whatever the cost. The last day or two before she left was… a lot.”

“Because of her leaving? Instead of coming here with you?”

“Yes,” Beth said. “I didn’t know she was going to do that. I don’t think she did, either. Something… something happened. She found something out that changed things. And I – I don’t know what.” Though there were many horrifying possibilities swirling in her mind, that she refused to look at too closely for fear of making them more real. “Did you know her?” she asked, to change the subject.

“Not particularly well. But most of the Guild knew her. So incredibly talented, so young. She was always begging everyone in sight to teach her. And few of us could bear to refuse her, with those pleading eyes of hers. I certainly couldn’t. I suppose she’s changed a fair bit since, though. Last I saw her she was still in shock from losing her grandfather. She told you about him?”

“A little,” Beth said. “I know he was an alchemist too, and he taught her from when she was very young.”

“That’s true. He was more a father than a grandfather to her, really. She worshipped him. And – don’t tell her I said this, will you?”

“I won’t,” said Beth, thinking that it would be a moot point if she and Isabelle never saw each other again.

“She wanted to cure his illness with alchemy. She practically lived in her lab, the last few months, trying everything she could think of. Despite the fact it was impossible, and everyone else could see it.”

Isabelle didn’t know the meaning of the word impossible. That word didn’t apply to the youngest Master of Alchemy in centuries, the girl who’d made Vuillard substance when she was barely a teenager, the girl who’d made the orbs that had allowed Beth and Jack to escape an inescapable military base.

“Did she…” Beth asked, already knowing the answer.

Philippa shrugged. “It’s hard to know how close she was. Most of us couldn’t even understand her work. But we were… very afraid for her, in the end. That she’d be lost to chasing the starlit dream and not think to live for those who still lived. When she disappeared…”

Beth’s heart skipped a beat. “What is the starlit dream?” she asked. “I heard her mention it, but she never explained it to me.”

Stolen from NovelFire, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“That… explaining it fully would require far more knowledge of the Guild’s history and philosophy than you have. But in simple terms: it is the pursuit of alchemical means to prevent or reverse death.”

“…oh,” said Beth softly. She didn’t know what else to say to that.

“The Guild has always been rather divided over it. Some claim it is the ultimate goal of all alchemy, while others claim it is a trap, that can lead people to spend their own lives in fruitless search. I belong to the latter group, and Isabelle – well, her actions in the months before her grandfather died certainly seem to suggest the former.”

And that was what she was after now. Using alchemy to cheat death.

That… if there was any realistic chance of it succeeding, and not being controlled by the government if it did, that might be something worth abandoning Beth and Jack for.

But it was still so little to go on, really. She still had no way of knowing what exactly Isabelle was planning. How much danger she was putting herself in. If she would ever return.

Beth didn’t sleep well, despite the luxurious comfort of the bed Philippa granted her. She wasn’t sure quite why; the last couple of days she’d slept like a log, eager to escape from her despair for a few precious hours.

It was because she was still scared, she decided. They might have escaped the immediate danger, but she had no idea what the future would look like. Or whether Isabelle would return. And also being parted from Jack.

That, at least, was something she could fix just by going down to try and find breakfast. Philippa had provided fruit and pastries. Beth wasn’t really that hungry, but she appreciated the thought. And she appreciated that Jack was there.

They hadn’t talked about the kiss. Part of Beth wanted to. She wanted desperately to know if he’d felt the same way she had, and if he wanted to try it again. Because stars, she wanted to try it again, and it seemed like she couldn’t look at his face without imagining it.

But at the same time, the thought of saying anything was… terrifying. As soon as she did, the fragile, deniable thing they had became very much real and solid. And Beth didn’t know if she was ready for that. Besides, how was she supposed to consider a future with Jack in it when she didn’t even know whether she’d have a roof over her head after today?

No, it was better to wait. At least for now.

“So,” Jack asked, once they’d all eaten and drunk enough to feel slightly more awake, “how does the Guild Council work?”

“That’s another question that would need me to explain a lot more of the Guild’s history and philosophy than we have time for right now. The short version is that it’s a group of seven Masters of Alchemy who are responsible for… well, running the Guild.”

“How are they chosen?” Beth asked.

“Election, once a year. Each Master has a single vote, and the seven candidates who receive the most votes make up that year’s Council. They agree roles and responsibilities amongst themselves. The only restrictions are that you can’t run for election if you’re over eighty, and you can only serve on the Council for at most five years.”

That was interesting, but not as helpful as Beth had hoped.

“Talk us through how it’ll actually work for us to meet them?” Jack asked.

“They’ll invite you into their meeting room when they’re ready for you. I expect they’ll have a lot of questions for you both, and they’ll want to see the papers you have for the President. And then… they’ll debate what to do, and let you know what they decide.”

“We don’t get to be there during that debate?” Beth asked.

“No. Council policy.”

So seven Masters Beth had never met would get to decide her fate. Stars. She hoped whatever Isabelle had written to the President was persuasive.

“And they’ll do what’s best for the Guild,” Jack said.

“Of course. That’s their responsibility.”

“But,” said Beth, finishing Jack’s thought, “it’s not necessarily what’s best for us.”

“I’m sure they’ll do their best to do both,” Philippa said, trying to reassure them. But Beth wasn’t fooled. Sure, they’d try, or at least she hoped they would. But if it wasn’t that simple? If they had to choose between the Guild they were duty-bound to serve and two scared lonely teenagers? That wouldn’t be a choice at all.

“Out of curiosity,” Philippa said, “and because the Council will probably ask this, and it’s best that you don’t have to work it out on the spot. What is best for the two of you? What do you want?”

Jack and Beth glanced at each other, and he shrugged as if saying you go first.

“Learn alchemy,” said Beth. “Except in a slightly more normal environment where I don’t have to worry about… well.” But really, that could easily change. It all depended so much on whether Isabelle came back, and what she wanted to do. Because if she wanted Beth’s help in her battle against death itself, then… stars. How could Beth not follow?

“Well,” said Philippa, smiling. “You’re in the right place for that, at least. The Guild doesn’t have enough apprentices, these days, so there’s bound to be someone who’d take you on. And you, Jack?”

“Don’t know, really. Learn a trade, I suppose. Some way I can earn money to support my family. I’d like to see them again, as well.”

“Not interested in becoming an alchemist?” Philippa asked, half-teasing.

“Stars, no. I’ve seen and heard enough about it from her and Isabelle that I know I wouldn’t be suited to it one bit.”

Philippa shrugged. “Fair enough. Alchemy certainly isn’t for everyone.”

“You can say that again,” Jack said, laughing.

The Council would meet at one after noon. Apparently it was traditional for its members to eat lunch together and discuss matters informally before they officially began business. Philippa had sent a message to them at some point over the last day, and Beth and Jack had been asked to arrive at one and thirty. They’d eat a small lunch here and set out after; it was a fairly short journey, but the route was a Guild secret. The Council would probably make them swear oaths of secrecy.

Beth was okay with that. She knew how to keep a secret by now.

That plan left them with the morning to themselves. And nothing much to do with it. Beth and Jack wandered back upstairs, to Beth’s room (or at least, the room she’d slept in last night), and shut themselves inside.

“You okay?” Jack asked.

“Relatively,” Beth replied. “Nervous about the Council. Worried about Isabelle. You?”

“Same, more or less. Want to talk about it?”

“The Council, or Isabelle?”

“Either. Both.”

Beth thought about it for a second, and then the words suddenly came spilling out. “She didn’t tell me anything. Where she was going, why, what made it important enough to – well, to risk your life over. She said she didn’t have time to explain, and that was probably true, but… it hurt. A lot.”

“…yeah,” Jack replied. “Sounds about right. She’s scared me more than once, like that. Once she has something in her sights, she doesn’t let anything stop her, and that includes us.”

“Yup,” Beth agreed bitterly.

If she hadn’t backed down that day in the lab, she wondered, what would Isabelle have done to stop Beth from inconveniencing her?