The Accidental Alchemist (25 page)

“I knew about that. But lots of people need money. They don’t go around poisoning people.”

“Not only that. Olivia was in the hospital at the same time last year as Charles Macraith.”

“And both with bills they couldn’t pay?” I asked, remembering what Olivia had told me about Sam taking on the second job at Blue Sky Teas to help with the bills.

Max nodded, his face looking hollow in the dim light of the tunnel.

“Wait, where are you going?” Max asked as I started up the ladder.

“Sam is teaching and Olivia should already be over at Blue Sky Teas since she’s helping keep it open. I’m going to look around their house.” I’d dropped Olivia off at her house earlier that week. I didn’t remember the house number, but I’d remember the barren rose bushes and pink shutters.

Max swore. “Zoe, you can’t go breaking into people’s houses. I need to get a search warrant.”

I paused on the stair ladder to look over my shoulder. “You think you have enough to get one?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“I thought so.” I continued climbing the stairs back to civilization.

“Zoe!”

Without pausing, I called over my shoulder, “If he’s using the tunnels, he’s got to have maps somewhere. I’m going to find them.”

thirty-five

Dorian narrowed his eyes.
“You want me to climb into this suitcase?”

“It’s a duffel bag. And yes. I promise it won’t be for long. You want to help Brixton and me find your book, don’t you? I don’t know how to pick a lock. You have to come with me.”

The gargoyle grumbled several words of French that weren’t fit to repeat as he climbed into the duffel bag. Sam and his aunt Olivia’s house wasn’t too far from mine, but I wouldn’t make it carrying the heavy bag of gargoyle. I’d need to take the car. I didn’t like the idea of driving my distinctive car to a house I was breaking into, but I didn’t see any other choice.

It was a good thing I’d added extra chia seeds and cocoa powder to my smoothie that day. I needed the extra energy to lift the heavy bag and place it in my truck. I tried to lift it gingerly, but it hit the door frame as I raised the bag onto the passenger seat.

“Oomph.”

“Sorry, Dorian.”

Things would have been much easier if we could have waited until nightfall, but there wasn’t time. If the kids weren’t playing hooky, we needed to find them, and the tunnels were our best lead.

“Wait here,” I said as I parked down the street from Sam and Olivia’s house.

“Where would I go?” was the muffled response from inside the duffel bag.

I did a quick circle of the house and found a side door. I let out a small sigh of relief. Even though the neighbors appeared to be at work, it was all I needed to be caught with a gargoyle picking a front door lock.

I carried the bag to the side of the house and unzipped the bag.

Dorian made quick work of the lock with his claws. I’d seen some thieves at work before, and those claws were better than lock picks.

A vase filled with the white flowers I’d bought for Blue was displayed prominently on Olivia’s mantle.

My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. Max’s name flashed on the screen. It was best if he didn’t know what I was doing. The phone went back into my pocket.

“I do not see my book,” Dorian said.

“No, but take a look at this.” I picked up a poster tube labelled “world map.” I popped off the top and looked inside.

Rolled inside a laminated map of the world, tightly rolled thinner sheets of paper were visible. I pulled them out.

“The tunnels,” Dorian said.

My cell phone buzzed again. This was getting ridiculous. I pulled the phone out to turn it off, but along with Max’s name across the screen, I noticed something else. He had called
five times.

I must have missed some of the calls while I was lugging the heavy bag with Dorian inside.

I picked up the phone, but I’d just missed him. I had a voicemail waiting for me. Dorian’s eyes grew wide as he watched me listen to the message.

“Zoe,” Max’s voice said. “If you’re where I think you are, get out of there. I tried to get hold of Sam to see if he would voluntarily help us with his knowledge of the tunnels. But he wasn’t at school. He called in sick today, Zoe. He could be anywhere.”

I hung up the phone, feeling my pulse race.

“We need to go, Dorian.
Now
.”

“Uh, Zoe. A young man is approaching the front door.”

“I have to put this poster tube back where I found it.” I moved quickly as I did so, scanning the room to see if there was anything else we’d moved. I spotted papers strewn on the entryway table.

“Zoe—”

“One second.”

“You do not have one second.”

My ears pricked with the sound of a key turning in the door.

Dorian pounced. Not on Sam, but on the door. He reached it right as the deadbolt began to open. With his strong hand, Dorian held the handle of the deadbolt, keeping it from opening.

Sam twisted his key from the outside. “Come on …” he said. He must have thought the door was stuck.

I moved as quietly as I could toward the desk we’d disturbed. I put all the contents back, then nodded at Dorian. He held up his free hand, asking me to wait.

“Come on,” Sam said again from behind the door. He gave the doorknob a shake, then pulled out his key. We heard the sound of his keys rattling. While he searched for the right key, Dorian and I took our chance.

We ran out the back and hurried around the side of the house. There was no time to get Dorian back into the bag. I peeled off my jacket and tossed it on top of him, then peeked around the corner of the house. Sam was shaking his head as he opened the front door.

We
didn’t stop running until we were inside the truck. I was glad I had the foresight to park my truck down the street instead of in front of the house.

———

When we reached the hidden entrance to the tunnels, I dropped the bag at my feet, unable to hold it any longer. I had made Dorian crawl back inside the duffel bag for our walk from the truck to the entrance.

Making sure there was no one around, I pulled open the iron grate.

“Hurry,” I said to the duffel bag.

“
Grâce à Dieu
,” Dorian stepped out of the bag. He glared at it with a look of disdain before coming to his senses about his exposed location and darting into the tunnel.

I climbed down after him, closing the grate behind me. Dust from the tunnel floor wafted up to my nose, causing me to sneeze. My shoulder ached as if I’d been carrying a boulder. Which, essentially, I had been.

I handed him a flashlight, but he shook his head. I spread out the map of the tunnels on the surface of a dusty wooden trunk, shining the light onto the sketch.

“I think we’re here,” I said.

“
Oui,
” Dorian agreed.

“You don’t happen to have a photographic memory, do you?”

“Unfortunately, no. But I have explored the tunnels on my own and I see much better in the dark. I will lead.”

Dorian scampered ahead. Though he moved quickly, one of his legs dragged behind, giving him an awkward gait. My flashlight bounced off the gargoyle, showing me that his whole leg up to his knee joint was now a solid mass of stone.

I tucked the map under my arm and hurried to keep up with the limping gargoyle. The temperature in this section of tunnels must have been close to seventy degrees, but I felt myself shaking. It couldn’t have been the temperature making me shiver. It couldn’t have been poison, either. I had fully recovered from the effects of the small amount that had affected me.

I knew what it was:
fear
.

thirty-six

At a juncture in
the tunnels, Dorian turned and looked back at me.

“This way,” he said.

A few minutes later, we reached the door that had been purposefully disguised. What we hadn’t known until we found the map was that beyond that door there was a
second
disguised door. What looked like a load-bearing beam of wood was in fact a cleverly disguised entry to a hidden set of tunnels.

It was the perfect setup for Shanghaiers. If someone happened to discover their first false door, the interloper would carry on straight ahead, never thinking to look for
another
hidden passageway.

The two-foot section of thick wood stood directly next to the stone wall. It looked innocent enough, but we knew from the map that there had to be a way to make it move. It wasn’t a structural part of the tunnels at all. It was a narrow opening.

I pressed against the wood from one side, and then the next. It didn’t budge. I pushed it forward. Nothing. I grabbed the sides and pulled. That didn’t work either.

“Perhaps there is a trigger mechanism,” Dorian suggested.

“It could be in one of the stones.” Dorian tapped on them with his fingers. “You are taller. Try the ones above.”

I handed the map to Dorian so I could work the stones with both hands. I tried each of the stones surrounding the beam, quickly at first, and then more methodically after quick pushes didn’t do the trick. I was now sweating from apprehension. I peeled off the bulky sweater I was wearing over a cotton blo
use.

“
Mon dieu
,” Dorian whispered. “Why does it not open? And why must you touch your necklace after you press each stone?”

I hadn’t realized I was doing it, but he was right.

I pushed on the highest stone I could reach, then turned and rested my back against the wall.

“You know what the locket means to me,” I said. “I can’t lose someone else I care about.”

“Your brother. Brixton reminds you of him,
n’est pas
?”

“I suppose he does.” I clenched my fists in frustration. “Why won’t this open!?” I whirled around and banged my fists against the stone wall. Pain shot through my forearms, but I didn’t care.

Dorian pulled me away.

“It will not help anyone for your arms to be bloodied,” he said.

I sighed and slumped down against the beam.

“Turn off the flashlight,” Dorian said.

“We’re not giving up—”

“No, but the shadows from the light confuses things. I can see better in the dark. I will look to see if there is a mechanism we have missed.”

The darkness that enveloped us was complete. I saw nothing, and heard only my own breath and the light sound of claws tapping on stone.

“The other man in the locket,” Dorian said softly, “you are thinking of him as well?”

I didn’t answer immediately. As I listened to Dorian tapping on stone, the darkness gave me the courage to speak. “His memory was what I was running from,” I said, “when you first saw me in Paris, helping the
Commandant
.”

“He died because he had not found the Elixir of Life you had found?” Dorian continued to examine the wall as he spoke.

“The opposite, actually.” I laughed ruefully in the darkness. “It was
because
he found the Elixir of Life that he died in the manner he did.”

“
C’est vrais?
”

“It would have been better had he died of old age. A natural death, I could have handled. I would have grieved, but it would have been a natural death. Not like what happened.”

“Did he die of the plague, as your brother did?”

“It’s worse than that.”

“
Merde
,” Dorian said. “My claw is caught in the stone.” He paused, and a rustling sound filled the darkness. “Ah! It is free.”

“Is it the lever?”

“No. Nothing has moved. Yet the map shows clearly that this is the second door!”

“Maybe we’re looking at this in the wrong way.” I clicked on the flashlight, this time shining the light toward the ceiling. “If it’s a mechanism that triggers the door, it doesn’t have to be part of the door itself. It could be anywhere around here.”

I stood up to take a closer look at the wooden beams running across the low ceiling. I methodically traced each of the beams. Four metal objects shone as the light passed over them. The simple hooks looked like they had been placed there to hold oil lamps to illuminate the passage.

But one of them was different from the rest.

I stepped closer to get a better look. I know metals. This particular hook wasn’t solid zinc iron alloy like the rest. It had been painted black to look like the other hooks.

I reached up and tugged on the hook. I was rewarded by the sound of a latch clicking.

“You have found it!” Dorian said. He scurried to the thick beam and shoved. This time, the beam gave way, revealing a narrow passage of darkness. He hurried inside, carrying the map and my sweater with him.

“Wait a second,” I whispered. “We don’t know if it will close behind us and trap us. We need to find the mechanism on the other side, so we can get back.”

Dorian pointed to a visible lever. “On this side,” he said, “they have no use for disguise.”

“Let me see the map,” I said, taking it from Dorian’s outstretched hand. “Damn. There are two branches of this tunnel.”

“We shall split up?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Dorian snatched the map back, grumbling to himself as he studied it. We followed the narrow passageway for several dozen yards before the tunnel forked. I shone the flashlight in both directions.

“To the right,” Dorian said softly, consulting the map, “is the shorter distance.”

“Both directions go on for quite some distance,” I whispered, “so the right is as good a choice as any.”

I clicked off the light and took a deep breath. “We should be careful from here.”

“Agreed. Give me your hand. I will lead you through the darkness.”

In spite of myself and the situation, I laughed. I was being led by a living gargoyle through a secret section of tunnels underneath Portland. I remembered Brixton saying “My life is too weird.” I could relate.

“This is amusing?” Dorian asked.

“You’ve heard the expression that someone laughs so they don’t cry?”

“
Oui.
”

“This is one of those situations.”

We walked in silence, in the cavernous darkness, for at least twenty minutes. Dorian periodically whispered for me to duck or to be careful as I stepped forward. As we walked further into the tunnels, the air grew close and stifling. Dorian maintained a firm grip on one of my hands to lead me. With my other hand, I felt along the wall. The only sounds were our light footsteps and the sound of my heartbeat.

Dorian’s hand was neither rough nor smooth, neither warm nor cold. It felt like I was holding an ocean-worn rock, warmed to the temperature of its surrounding environment.

As we rounded a corner, the air quality shifted. I saw no light, but I felt a gentle breeze.

“Where are we?” I whispered.

“
Zut!
We have reached the end!”

“The end?”

Dorian pulled me further. I hadn’t switched on the light, but a dim light spread out before us. We stepped forward into a room with a metal grate above. Light poured into the room from above. As my eyes adjusted, I became aware of a rhythmic sound.

I groaned. “The river. We’re somewhere along the Willamette.”

“It appears this is another disguised entry point.”

“I can’t reach the grate,” I said. “If I lift you up, you should be able to reach it.”

He nodded, and I cupped my hands to boost him up with his good leg. By holding him on my shoulders, he was able to reach the grate.

“Rusted shut,” he said. “This has not been used in many years.”

“We went the
wrong way.”

“Come,” Dorian said. “There is no longer the need to be quiet as we retrace our steps.”

Using the flashlight this time, we were able to move more quickly. Still, it wasn’t fast enough. I held the flashlight in one hand and my locket in the other.

“We will find them,” Dorian said. “Have faith.”

“Faith doesn’t save people.”

“You are a good person, Zoe Faust. Whatever happened, it could not have been your fault.”

“You’re wrong. Because of me, both Thomas and Ambrose died. That’s why I first gave up alchemy and ran from everything—including myself.”

“What you told me of your brother was not your fault. Failing to save someone from the plague is not your fault.”

“But that’s not what happened to Ambrose.” I clutched my locket more tightly. “I should never have let him talk me into practicing alchemy again.”

“What happened that is so terrible?”

“I already told you that after Thomas died, I left the Flamel’s house, unaware I had discovered the Elixir of Life.” I walked more quickly than Dorian, so he wouldn’t see my face as I spoke. “After I knew what I had become and returned to the Flamel’s house to find it burned to the ground, I felt as if I was cursed. I didn’t think I deserved to live, but I at least wanted to help others. I used my herbal skills of plant alchemy to do so. I was never good at making gold, so I sold healing tonics to survive. I gave away more than I sold, so I barely survived. I could never turn my back on a needy person. There were so many of them …”

I tried to shake off the memory of so much suffering. Though I had helped many people, there were so many more I couldn’t save.

“The man in the locket was someone you could not help?”

“Ambrose,” I said. “When I met him, I was an emaciated wreck, curing others while I lived on boiled meat and potatoes, barely surviving myself. I had learned that I was nearly as human as everyone else—feeling sick when I ate poorly, bleeding when cut, blistering when burned—but I hadn’t felt worthy of healing myself. Not until I met Ambrose. He was a fellow alchemist, so he recognized me for what I was.”

“Ah!” Dorian said. “So the tragedy is that he found the Elixir of Life, yet still died?”

“Worse. It won’t make sense unless you know what he did for me. When we met, though Ambrose was a practicing alchemist, he hadn’t yet found the Elixir of Life. I fell in love with him, and he with me. He helped me realize my life was worth living. That’s when I began to eat a plant-based diet, which helped me heal my body and feel alive again. I believed my life was worth living again, so I wanted to feel alive in every way. We worked together for many years, happy in our shared alchemy lab. But he had a son. Percival.”

“The son did not approve of you?”

“I didn’t approve of Percival. Ambrose was devoted to his son, but I saw him for the mean-spirited man he really was. Ambrose tried to get Percival interested in alchemy, but Percival is a perfect example of why the world isn’t ready for alchemy’s secrets. Percival was only ever interested in quick fixes. He took opium to excess, and ate and drank with a similar indulgence. He never held a job for long, because he always knew his father could make him gold. Whenever I tried to broach the subject with Ambrose, he wouldn’t hear of it. He would believe nothing bad about his son. Ambrose was the most brilliant alchemist I’ve ever met, but Percival was his weakness.”

“This is what I understand it is to be a parent.”

“Maybe so. I should have seen it coming. Maybe then I could have prevented it.”

“What happened?”

“Work
ing together in our laboratory—me working with plants to create healing elixirs and Ambrose working with metals to create the philosopher’s stone—we complemented each other and increased each other’s learning. Ambrose created his own philosopher’s stone that led him to the Elixir of Life. In spite of my protestations that it wouldn’t work to transfer it to another, Ambrose tried to transfer it to Percival. When it didn’t work, Percival became irate. Cutting corners, he tried to create it for himself, envious that his father and I would live while he would die. Percival continued to age, becoming a bitter old man who wasted away and died. Ambrose couldn
’t take it. Knowing he’d caused his son so much pain and that he would go on living—Ambrose went insane.”

“
Mon dieu.
”

“I tried to get him help, but he was taken away and placed in a mental institution. He couldn’t live like that. He killed himself.”

“I am so sorry, Zoe. But you should also realize you are lucky to have found Ambrose at all. To have found that even briefly, for this I am envious.”

“Believe me,” I said, wiping away a tear with my sleeve, “you don’t need to be envious of my life.”

“I have never met another like myself. My father was the only one who knew my true self. The blind men I worked for believed me to be a man, like them. They believed me to be disfigured, and this is why I wished to stay out of sight from others.”

Guilt washed over me. I hadn’t considered that Dorian’s life had, in some ways, been lived in even more isolation than my own. “We’ve both lived lonely lives.”

“Yet,” Dorian said, “I still wish to live.”

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the weight of Dorian’s words hanging in the air.

“How much further do we have to go?” I asked.

“
Merde
,” Dorian whispered.

“What is it?”

“Quiet,” he whispered sharply. “Turn off your light.”

I clicked off the light. “What do you see?”

“Wait here.”

“We’re not splitting up.”

“I shall be back momentarily.”

“Wait—”

“There are two more passageways I see,” Dorian said, “
neither
of which are marked on the map, yet there is light ahead. Remain here.”

I crossed my arms and waited impatiently as Dorian’s footsteps faded.

A few minutes later, he still hadn’t returned. I began to tap my foot anxiously. Where was he?

A faint tapping noise sounded. I stood still. The noise continued. It wasn’t caused by my fidgeting.

In the darkness, I wasn’t sure which direction Dorian had gone, so I couldn’t tell if the sound was coming from the same direction. Keeping the light off, I edged forward, following the sound.