Alchemist's Apprentice (21 page)

The egg, released from his doubt, fell to the ground and smashed. Pure, molten gold spilled out, immersing them both, dissolving them into its bright substance. Jack felt himself becoming part of the golden fluid, and for an indeterminate amount of time he floated in a weightless state; a blissful freedom from the constriction of beliefs and desires. He had let them all go, and a new life free of striving and suffering awaited him as soon as he was ready to step into it.

He stretched out his arms and stood up. He couldn't see himself, but he knew how he looked. He was a child again; himself reborn. On his head was a helmet with wings. In his hand, he held a staff, and around it a snake was entwined.

T
HE SILENCE WAS TOTAL.
Jack sat up, rubbing his eyes, and felt around him on the workbench for a candle.

The light hurt his eyes. He squinted and blinked and, as his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was two bowls sitting beside the door, both of them full. He could not remember either of them arriving.

Beside his knee the athanor was stone cold. Inside it, the vessel was silent. It was all over.

And yet, just beginning. Jack strode over to the window and pulled down the thick blanket. He unbarred the shutters and pulled them aside, then opened the window itself. A heavy rain was falling, but he had never seen a more beautiful day. The river was in full spate, rolling and churning along on its way to the sea. Jack put his head out of the window and laughed as the rain soaked into his hair, running into his collar and down his back like cold little mice. He stayed-there for long minutes, delighting in the freshness, until the sound of the door handle turning caught his attention.

The alchemist stepped inside the workshop and leant against the door, crossing his arms and his feet. He said nothing, but raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Jack grinned and nodded. ‘It's finished.'

‘Let's have a look, then.' Barnstable unfolded himself and moved across to the athanor. Together, he and Jack raised the heavy lid and looked inside. The vessel was still buried in the earth, which had been baked to a fine, grey powder. Jack uncovered it delicately and lifted it out. It was still intact and still, to Jack's surprise, slightly warm. He set it down gently on top of the workbench.

‘Dissolve the body and coagulate the spirit,' he said.

The alchemist nodded, observing Jack closely, the familiar, impish smile on his face. Jack returned it like a mirror and together they burst into delighted laughter.

‘Well,' said Barnstable eventually, gesturing towards the vessel with his thumb. ‘What's inside it?'

‘Gold,' said Jack.

‘Shall we have a look and see?'

‘We could,' said Jack. He picked up the vessel and weighed it in his hand. It glowed with a mysterious vibrancy and for a long time Jack observed it, absorbed in its ancient secrecy. Then he said, ‘Or perhaps I will do what you did with yours when you made it.'

‘And what was that?' said the alchemist. He was watching with amused expectancy.

Jack raised the vessel like a toast towards the picture on the wall then turned and, with perfect aim, flung it out through the window and into the rushing water of the Thames. As he faced the alchemist again, there was a mischievous glint in his eye.

‘Offer it to Hermes,' he said.

Barnstable beamed with delight, and together the two alchemists set about tidying the workshop. On the river, Jack's finished work ducked and bobbed on the current, already well on its way towards the hungry streets of London town.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2002 by Kate Thompson

Cover design by Michael Vrana

978-1-4804-2424-1

This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media

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New York, NY 10014

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