One ingredient at a time, Lucas prepared the latest batch of Blue. He moved a little slower than usual because of his recent brush with death, but he was resolved not to let a little stiffness hamper or delay this experiment. Truthfully, he’d probably overdone it with that little ride earlier, but he wasn’t about to show any weakness and let the gnome be proven right.
Even though he worked just as he always did, though, there would be one key difference in the final step. Heisenburgle watched him work, but the man had seen this enough times that he asked no questions. Instead, he simply waited for an excuse to chew Lucas out when he inevitably did something below the gnome's exacting standards, but Lucas was determined not to give him that opportunity.
He kept the heat low and shifted regularly between the different ingredients, mixing them all together a little at a time. Everything went exactly as he planned it, which was about right because he’d recently spent a whole day doing nothing but repeating this process over and over again.
He felt certain that if he made this just like usual, it would have been his strongest batch so far, but then, it wasn’t going to be made like usual. Instead, he was going to replace the key catalyst ingredient with a completely untried alternative. That might be dumb, but he had a good feeling about it.
Even if it's not this catalyst, I know that it’s the problem, he told himself as he ground the pale white flower down with his mortar and pestle.
He was certain. Just because his first try had been compatible because his old master liked to snack on them didn’t mean there wasn’t another better catalyst, in the same way, that all cheap cold medicines didn’t cook up the same back on Earth. Alchemy, much like cooking meth, was tricky, like that.
Still, when everything was mixed and swirly darkly together, that didn’t stop him from adding the thin milky fluid to the beaker and silently crossing his fingers.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” the gnome said, offering the first of what would almost certainly be many different I told you so’s. “The consistency is way off.”
Lucas nodded. He didn’t disagree, but even so, he finished pouring the pulp of the reagent in, and then, he took a steel rod and slowly began to stir, letting the white mix and spiral against the darker background like a faint tornado. It dissipated in seconds, and then, just as he was about to give up, the whole thing flared brightly.
As this was happening, Heisenburgle was pontificating. “I recommend we go back to the poisonous approach we were trying before. A methodical approach is the only way to…” but his words trailed off even as the liquid brightened.
For a moment, the flask was full of tiny stars. It was no longer the murky depths. Instead, it had become the night sky. It was hypnotic. Then, after a few seconds, it faded back into a dark, uneven blue color. It didn’t look like his Blue. Really, it looked like Blue that had gone bad, and was a few weeks past its best by date.
“Well, something happened there,” the gnome said, quickly recovering, “But what?”
“Who knows,” Lucas said, shrugging theatrically. “It’s nothing but garbage now.”
That was a lie, though, and deep down, his poker face was struggling. While he’d seed the same disappointing burnout that his gnomish companion had seen, he saw something else, too.
You have created a new potion +104 experience.
You have created an imperfect potion of Lesser Communion.
Imperfect Potion of Lesser Communion (1 dose): Poison 3, strength -3, toughness -2, euphoria -2, intelligence 1, allows one to communicate briefly with the elvish Goddess Lwyn.
That series of messages made it hard not to whoop with delight, but somehow Lucas suppressed it. Giving away this much information to the gnomish alchemist would almost certainly see Lucas put under his thumb forever.
Instead, while the gnome laid out a new comprehensive testing protocol, Lucas carefully poured himself a dose of the stuff into a vial and set it aside. While he did so, he wondered how a container that large could only be one dose.
Would someone have to drink all of that? He wondered. He quickly got his answer. As soon as the vial was full of the darkest liquid, he noted that it still read one dose, but now the large container had started to break down and merely read Poisoned Water. Indeed, it was no longer even that deep, ugly blue. It was now a murky brown with chunks of precipitate.
Fucking magic, he sighed, pocketing the vial. Then he very theatrically dumped the rest of it down the drain.
“Wait, aren't we going to test it on someone?” the gnome shrieked.
“Why? Lucas asked, showing him the dregs of the bottle. “This is pretty much the opposite of Blue.”
The gnome grudgingly agreed and returned to his lecture on likely poisonous forest ingredients that might work. Lucas let him continue on with that for just long enough to make sure that the man was fully distracted by his own greatness. Then he asked, “Sure, this was a dead end, but what about that reaction. Have you seen anything like that before?”
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“Myself? No,” the gnome admitted. “But in a technical sense, it would be referred to as an energetic catalyst reaction, and those are generally regarded as short-lived. Still, it was interesting.”
“So what about the dwarf berries? Why does that glow linger?” Lucas asked, trying to ignore the potion that was burning a hole in his pocket.
“Well, clearly, it's a slow to medium catalyst,” Heisenburgle answered triumphantly. “This is a more common, and dare I say a more desirable, reaction in a number of common potions.”
Now that Lucas had wound him up, he watched him spin like a top. He spent the next twenty minutes explaining catalytic reactions to his human protégé and recommending several books on the subject. There were moments when he could have burst in to make jokes, but on the whole, Lucas ignored him.
That set the tone for the rest of their night together. Heisenburgle showed off how smart he was, and Lucas pretended to care. Really, if the gnome had been less self-absorbed, he would have noticed that Lucas wasn’t smarting off to him every chance he had. That was more than unusual.
His heart just wasn’t in it. All he could think about was that not only had he achieved a serious breakthrough, but he’d also managed to do so under the eyes of his collaborator and warden, with the gnome noticing. It wasn’t how he’d expected the night to go, but after that, keeping the dumb grin off of his face was a full-time job.
Their night together ended with no incidents or progress. Heisenburgle had worked out a testing plan for the next few days and promised to send a man for Lucas’s tailor.
“I want guards for him, though,” Lucas insisted. “More than there were for me, at least.”
“For a tailor?” Heisenburgle asked. “Why?”
“Because if they didn’t get me the first time, they could very well think he’s me the second time, and I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to know what’s going to happen next in that scenario,” Lucas said. “The guy has kids.”
“Rocket surgeon?” Heisenburgle asked. “What is a rocket?”
“It’s uhhhh… a type of monster. It's a local expression where I come from. It means that it doesn’t take a genius to butcher something,” Lucas lied quickly. “But let’s not get distracted. I don’t want anyone killing my tailor thinking that he’s me.”
“Very well,” the gnome sighed, “Waste of resources though it is.”
The only productive thing that he accomplished was to make a new batch of Blue that he could bring to Lady Skylara as a present. If he was going to have to meet with her again, then he was certainly going to do it with a nice gift to stay on her good side, and if he could somehow make her overdose on it, so much the better.
Brew of Mana Intoxication (pure, concentrated) (10 doses): Euphoria 15, poison 2, mana regeneration decreased by 250% for 1 hour.
After that, normally, they would go their separate ways, but for some reason, Heisenburgle insisted on having breakfast with him that morning. Does he suspect? Lucas wondered, all throughout the meal of toast and poached eggs. He said nothing and did nothing suspicious. That was the first rule of holding anything, stay cool, don’t get paranoid.
Tired of talking alchemy, Lucas asked him about the assault. “Any luck with the wreckage?” he asked halfway through the breakfast, making the gnome practically choke on his biscuit.
“Keep your voice down,” he insisted. “Officially, nothing happened. That wreck was caused by driver error, do you understand?”
“I get you,” Lucas agreed, “Don’t want to show weakness.”
The gnome nodded before continuing, “That said, the footsteps that came from the north side of the road certainly seem to indicate that it was, in fact, humans were there rather than elves.”
“I told you,” Lucas said, a little too loudly for Heisenburgle’s liking.
The gnome shushed him before continuing. “Divination magic has given us some leads, but if it was truly a mage that you saw, then those are likely dead ends or even false plants.”
“So what do we do next?” Lucas asked.
“You get your suit made and recover,” the gnome said, “and leave the rest to me. This weekend, we will both go to the ball and while we are there, I will ask the Prince to bring the registry from the guild of mages. It has portraits of each registered mage. You can pick out your attacker from among those.”
Huh, fantasy mug shots, Lucas thought. Makes sense when these guys are all the living equivalent of a machine gun or a bazooka.
“So we find the guy, and then we take him out?” Lucas asked.
“Take him out? Take him out?!” the gnome hissed. “Do I look like a mage hunter to you? That is an exceptionally dangerous job. No, we do absolutely nothing. The Prince will communicate with the head of the mage guild, and they will handle it for us. It is their job to police their own, and they will have no wish to stand on the kingdom’s toes in this matter.”
“But—” Lucas started to protest. He was far more interested in trying to figure out who was behind this. He had a sinking feeling that a certain junkie was in the mix, and if that was the case, then Lucas desperately wanted an excuse to choke the life out of him.
The gnome shook his head violently at that. “No, no more talking about this. Not until the ball. I grow weary of the discussion, and I have no doubt half of the serving maids probably know everything they need to know about our dilemma.”
Heisnburgle left Lucas sitting there as he stormed off in a fit of pique. Fortunately, he took his paranoia with him. After that performance, Lucas was finally sure that the alchemist had no idea what he’d done in the lab. So, he got up and went to his room to play his own private game of potion roulette.
“Am I really doing this?” he asked himself when he got there and locked the door. “This thing could fry my brains.”
While he considered those words, he took out a lesser antidote and a healing tincture and set them on the nightstand just in case. There was no magical equivalent of Narcan, but it still paid to be safe rather than sorry.
Yeah, like that hasn’t already been done more than once, his mind whispered to him. He nodded at that, then studied the evil-looking blue liquid for several seconds before he undid the cork and swallowed the foul draught in one go as he sat down on his bed.
“Here goes nothing…” he said to no one in particular.