1/10/2024 0 Comments Alchemical symbol for blood![]() ![]() I released a sigh and slipped the Ziploc into the box containing the rest of the ingredients he’d kept stored in this crypt. “Did you really doubt me?” His bright blue eyes met mine, and his mouth quirked upward, dimpling his cheeks. “It was right where you said it would be.” I pulled the Ziploc bag from my pocket, displaying the ivy I’d plucked from a weathered headstone. “Did you get it?” he asked without looking up. ![]() A lit candle in an old-fashioned metal holder sat on the table next to him the sulfur scent of a recently lit match still hung in the air. The tables now sat empty, my new assistant packing up the last of the equipment. Stopping just inside the door, I surveyed the ancient alchemy lab that had so impressed me the first night I saw it. The dark red area rug muffled my footfalls until I reached the corridor that connected this chamber to the next. The first room at the bottom of the stairs was more library than tomb, the walls lined with books-most of them first editions from centuries past. When the sarcophagus lid was closed, no one knew this place was here. I shined my light inside the sarcophagus, illuminating the stairs to the crypt below. Rowan and I had missed that detail the night we first entered the mausoleum, but it hadn’t taken us long to figure out who still occupied this tomb. The beam of light fell across the stone lid leaning against the side of the sarcophagus, highlighting the name carved in the surface. I took out the tiny flashlight I kept inside my jacket pocket and clicked it on. I shrugged off the melancholy and crossed to the open sarcophagus in the center of the room. ![]() I’d done as he asked, but I hadn’t seen him since Rowan had given me a stay of execution to heal her. Era was Rowan’s fellow Element, and a daughter to him in every way that mattered. Six weeks ago, I learned that I’d been responsible for Era’s abduction and mental damage. The same night Rowan told me he cared for me. The night I saved Rowan from a lich king and his zombie dogs. The smell always reminded me of the first night Rowan and I visited this place. Decayed leaves and damp earth scented the air. The rusted metal door made no sound when I pulled it open and tugged it closed behind me. The last of the fall leaves crunched beneath my feet as I left the road and cut across the graves to the mausoleum. The clouds had broken, and patchy sunshine peeked through, the soft light illuminating random headstones. The December wind had a bite that promised snow, but not today. I tucked the Ziploc bag in my pocket and started across the cemetery. It seemed the road to redemption wound through some dark neighborhoods. Now I would make up for my wrongs and in the process, help alchemy attain the respect it deserved.Īt least, that was the plan. It was a skill that had taken me far in my profession and one that had gotten me into a lot of trouble. The alchemist must have the confidence-some say, the arrogance-to do the impossible.Īs a master alchemist, I never lacked confidence. To bottle magic, it takes more than just a knowledge of alchemy and an understanding of how various ingredients interact. For blurbs, excerpts, and retailer links on the previous books in the series, just click on my BOOKS tab above. ![]() Reading them out of order will spoil the fun of an earlier tale. Warning! The stories in my Final Formula Series are intended to be read in order. ![]()
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