Slap!

Andrew's head snapped back from the Doctor’s palm.

“You shot her twice?!”

Eyes welling from tears, Andrew nodded. “She was being uncooperative. When the first injection didn’t work, I used another.”

The slap came again, pivoting Andrew the other way.

“Do you know that could’ve killed her?!”

“I-I knew the risks, Doctor Davis.”

The hand raised again. Andrew cringed from it. But it didn't come. He heard a sigh. “Get out of the way,” the Doctor said, shoving him away to study the girl chained against the wall.

They were all in the underground basement, Doctor Davis, Andrew, and Constantia.

Andrew tried hard not to look away. Constantia was gagged and bound, but the leather piece in her mouth could not block out the sounds of her sobbing. Under the greasy light of the oil-powered lanterns, her golden hair was a dull shade of brown. Her eyes, when they widened with the Doctor’s approach, were bloodshot.

“Monsters,” she muttered against her gag. She twisted away from Doctor Davis’s touch, her chains rattling. "You're both monsters!"

The Doctor was unfazed. He took the girl's chin and tilted her face this way and that. “You are lucky,” he mused, though Andrew suspected the Doctor wasn't talking to Constantia. "Most people do not live this long after taking two shots." From his pocket, he took out a lighter and flicked it near Constantia’s eyes. She sucked in a breath and tried to turn away, but the Doctor held her tightly. “Perhaps you have an affinity for alchemy.”

Andrew shuffled his feet. He hated being down here, where the light of day is lost behind onyx stone walls, and each step was a battle for balance. Blood had long ago drenched into every inch of the cracked ground, making it forever wet.

He couldn't, didn't, want to imagine what thoughts were going on inside Constantia's head.

Doctor Davis deposited his lighter back under his lab coat. He pivoted towards the door, commanding Andrew to, "Get the Table ready," before disappearing out the heavy iron door. “I don’t want to waste any more time and risk her health getting worse, you hear?”

"Yes Doctor," Andrew said. “But what about breakfast?”

Doctor Davis had one foot out the door when he whirled back around. He only had to give a look, and Andrew knew that breakfast would not be served today. Then with a whip of his white coat, the Doctor strode up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The sun was just beginning to rise when Andrew entered the laboratory with a bucket and pail. He set his tools down and glanced up with a hand over his eyes, watching the golden light grace the lab’s crystal dome roof. Bright rainbows washed across the walls and floors, illuminating the fresh bloodstains.

As he always did, Andrew started with the Table. It wasn’t just because it was in the middle of the room, but it was his favorite thing here, perhaps even in the whole castle. Made entirely out of white quartz, the milky surface of the experiment table glowed even while covered in human remains. Andrew lugged his bucket and rags over to it, and began the long process of scrubbing it clean. The stench of the decaying flesh was all-consuming, but he was used to it by now. Whenever they moved onto a new type of transmutation, a great many creatures suffered for it.

Science requires sacrifice, was the mantra that always got Andrew through it all. He grabbed a fresh rag and started scrubbing the floors.

Sacrifice. Science requires it from all of us.

It was not a novel concept to alchemy. Things must be broken down to be reconstructed again. It was law. It was universal.

And yet, were the sacrifices really equal?

Andrew thought about Constantia, about Victoria. Their bodies would be taken apart on the Table and combined with another into something new, something astounding. It was what he and the Doctor did to many more before them, and many more will follow.

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But such a thing… did they ever ask if the people they worked on wanted it? Andrew couldn't remember if anyone ever did. There was a reason he brought syringes filled with the sleeping liquid on each outing, a reason why the Doctor spent years training him to lie.

Andrew tossed a bloody rag into the pail. It crashed into the side of the bucket, sending water over onto the floor. The noise brought him back to last night, to the sound of Victoria hitting the water.

He stood. A wave of heat traveled to his head. It made him dizzy. He held out a hand for balance and felt sharp grooves under his fingertips. He froze as if he’d touched a venomous snake. He inched his hand off the Table, off the alchemy circles etched into the milk-white surface.

Andrew stared at the markings. They were seeped red from old blood and covered the entire surface of the Table like a network of roads, a map into hell.

Andrew went back to cleaning. He didn’t know or understand why, but at that moment, there was nothing he wanted more than to get away from that slab of stone.

By the time Andrew had finished, lunch was being served downstairs. He could hear chairs moving and cutlery clinking, and the sounds awakened hunger inside him. He wrung his mops and hung his buckets, changed out of his dirty clothing and hurried down the stairs, pushing his way through the right hallways until he was inside the dining hall.

The Doctor was being seated. Standing behind him, Ignar was helping him out of his coat. The wolf homunculus grinned when he saw Andrew entering the ornate double doors.

“He is almost man-grown and yet walks like a rabbit. Is Master sure he wishes not to create a stronger assistant?”

“Silence, Ignar,” said Doctor Davis. He sat down, Ignar pushing the chair in behind him. With a wave of his hand, the Doctor gave permission for Andrew to sit. “I trust the lab is spotless?”

“Good enough to eat in,” Andrew answered. There were four other homunculi servants standing around in the hall, but none of them helped him with his chair. Andrew tried not to dwell on the difference in treatment. At least the food on his plate wasn't the same as theirs. He scooted himself in, tucked his napkin in his collar, and picked up his fork and knife.

Soup was beets with diced carrots, grown from the garden. Andrew dipped his spoon into the broth and sipped. It was delightful.

No, sir. He would not be eating raw shavings today.

The door to the kitchen swung open and three sheep homunculi tottered in, balancing silver plates and silver domes. Andrew pretended to be busy with his soup. He never could look at any of them. He told himself it was because of their too-big eyes or stick-thin legs, but really what he didn't want to look at was the traces of human still left in them.

He didn't want to be reminded of what they looked like before.

“The main course isss served.”

Andrew looked up to see Bartholomeu sliding out from behind the row of sheep. He was wearing his usual cook's hat and white apron, but there was something different about the cook today. It was difficult to tell through all the scales, but Andrew thought he could see tightness in the snake homunculus's narrow eyes.

That was another thing. No matter what animal served as their base, the homunculi always had these wet yellow eyes that made it seem they were always on the verge of tears.

Maybe they were.

Bartholomeu moved with the fluidity of his base. Before the first sheep reached the table, he was already there.

“I have made it asss you have instructed, Master,” he said, his leathery lips barely moving with his words. “The pelt I have sent to Ignar’s chambersss.”

The Doctor nodded to the wolf. “You know what to do?”

“Certainly,” Ignar answered, grinning his mouthful of fangs. “I’ve not stuffed a rabbit but I know the ways.”

The sheep had reached the table now, and were placing the plates down in front of Doctor Davis and Andrew.

From the Doctor’s words, Andrew knew what was under the domes, but the sight of half a poached rabbit still sent his heart sinking.

“Eat,” Doctor Davis commanded. “We’ve a long night ahead of us, Andrew.”

Andrew picked up his fork. “Are… are we not combining Con- that girl with a rabbit, Doctor?”

Doctor Davis snapped his fingers at his half of the rabbit. Ignar leaned over, stabbed into it with a fork, and started cutting. “I believe it is time we look elsewhere for inspiration,” said the Doctor. A smile hinted at his words as he talked, almost like he was excited for what was going to come next. “Namely, the sea.”

“What's in the sea?" Andrew asked.

"Is that a real question?"

"No, I mean, why?”

Ignar finished carving the rabbit and stood back. Doctor Davis picked up his own cutlery and started eating.

“I’ve thought about it for some time,” the Doctor said between bites. “If we are to advance the science of alchemy, we must work in not just one element but many.”

Andrew swallowed some water to make his voice work. “So… really fish?”

“And birds, but yes. Fish first.”

Andrew put down his fork. He didn't really care what critter the Doctor wanted to combine. But fish and birds were new territories, and that would mean almost-guaranteed failure on the first try, even if Andrew did everything right. He felt sick.

"Could I please be excused, Doctor?"

Doctor Davis gave a half-hearted wave. Andrew rose. His eyes caught the breadbasket on the table. “Could I take some bread up to my chambers, Doctor?”

The Doctor scoffed. “Am I not feeding you enough?”

“I might have gotten ill,” Andrew lied. “The wind was harsh last night.”

“Sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of science,” said the Doctor. “Very well. Get some rest.” He went back to his rabbit. “I expect you at the laboratory in an hour.”

Andrew picked up two loaves, put them in his pocket, and hurried away.