Alchemical symbol: Tin [https://i.imgur.com/e9DvjDg.png]

Thea scanned the jars, mentally checking off the items they needed. ‘We need more pennyroyal.’

Benedict stirred. He’d been silent all morning, hunched and brooding in his chair. He wasn’t working on the drug; he wasn’t doing anything. He blinked at her. ‘Eh?’

‘For White-Eye’s regular order — we need more pennyroyal.’

Benedict nodded. Thea turned back to the shelves. The recent breakages had left them short of many things, but there wasn’t much point replacing what they had no immediate use for.

‘Tachen’s Pharmocoepia,’ Benedict said.

‘What about it?’

‘There’s a section discussing methods of enhancing the qualities of active ingredients. It might be useful. The Guild have it.’

‘Oh.’ Thea straightened the jars and turned the labels to the front. It was a relief to find Benedict had at least been thinking about the problem, but the next discussion would be difficult. ‘Your Guild membership has lapsed. We have to pay the fee.’

‘Do we have the money?’

‘Yes…’

‘Then what’s the problem?’

She took a breath. ‘They want to see you. In person.’

Benedict shrank in his chair. ‘Oh, no. I can’t. You can go for me.’

‘I don’t think that will work this time.’ Thea peered out of the window at the greyish sky. ‘Look how nice the weather is today. Spring is coming, the sun’s warm. Wouldn’t you like to go outside? Just for a little while?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t.’

‘Please, Benedict.’ She touched his arm. ‘Couldn’t you just try? We’ll just go out the door, and a little way—’

He slapped her hand away. ‘No!’

She recoiled, more surprised than hurt.

‘I’m so sorry.’ His face fell. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean — I’d never hurt you, Thea.’

‘Don’t be silly, you didn’t hurt me.’ She smiled, to show she wasn’t upset. ‘I’m just asking you to try. For me?’

Benedict levered himself from his chair. He took a shuffling step toward the door.

Thea quickly took his arm. ‘That’s the way. You can do it.’

They advanced slowly, each step smaller than the last.

She opened the door and showed him the empty landing. ‘See, there’s nothing scary out here. I go out every day and nothing bad happens to me, does it? Come on. Just one step outside.’ She went first and turned back to him, holding out her hand.

Benedict edged to the threshold. He grabbed the doorpost. ‘I can’t.’

‘Please, Benedict.’ She tugged at his hand. ‘You must. Please try.’

His other hand gripped the doorframe, his knuckles white. ‘Can’t you feel it? Everything is — I’m going to fall.’

‘Everything’s fine.’

‘No, no, the floor is tipping. I can’t.’

Benedict wrenched his hand from hers and scurried back to lean on his chair.

Thea sighed. She put her arms round his thin shoulders and hugged him. ‘It’s all right.’

‘I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m an old fool.’ He rubbed his face. He was shaking and crying. ‘A useless old fool.’

‘You aren’t useless. I can be your eyes. I can be your hands. You just have to tell me what to do. We’ll work together.’

Tears rolled down his cheeks. As a child, she used to run to him when she was hurt or scared, and he would hold her safe in his arms and tell her all would be well. Now it seemed it was her turn to do that for him.

She still felt like a scared child, but she gripped his hands and pushed the fear down beside the anger. She didn’t have the luxury of being a child anymore. She never had. ‘I’ll make your tea, then I’ll go to the Guild. I have the money. I’m sure they won’t turn me away.’

‘Must you go? There are so many bad people on the streets these days. It’s not safe for you on your own.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ She squeezed his fingers. ‘I’m always fine, aren’t I?’

Men crowded the street outside the Alchemists’ Guild. Dishevelled young journeymen jostled with master alchemists, half in traditional symbol-embroidered robes, the rest dressed like wealthy merchants.

With a sea of heads and backs in front of her, it took some time for Thea to see the focus of attention was a notice pasted to the door. Alchemists jockeyed for position to read it, one knocked furiously on the door, and at the back of the group, a number of heated conversations were in progress.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

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A tall, dark-skinned man peered at her. ‘That’s what I’d like to know.’

‘They want more money,’ another man said. He had yellowed eyes and a red-blotched face. ‘That’s what’s going on.’

Thea’s heart sank. She fingered the coins in her pocket. She’d brought enough for the fee, but if they’d raised it, she might not have enough.

The door opened and the man who had been knocking was admitted. A gap opened behind him. Thea wriggled into the space, taking advantage of her small size and sharp elbows to reach the front. By squeezing in front of a fat master alchemist, she could at last see the notice.

Whereat the Council of Athanor… notwithstanding the privileges granted under charter… to pay for rebuilding, Guild taxes to be raised…

Someone shoved her aside.

‘This is an outrage,’ the fat master said. ‘The Council have no right, no right at all.’

The red-blotched alchemist peered over his shoulder. ‘If you can’t afford the new fee, Scruton, perhaps we could have a whip round for you.’

Scruton huffed. ‘It’s the principle of the thing.’ He hammered on the closed door. ‘Open up there. I demand to speak to the masters.’

‘Actually,’ the red-blotched alchemist drawled, ‘I think it’s about time we saw some changes. Expel the chaff.’ He looked down at Thea. ‘A tiered membership, with privileges for the more prominent masters—’

The door creaked open. The old clerk stood on the threshold, a proctor looming behind him. ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen.’ He raised his hands. ‘Please behave in an orderly fashion. Those who wish to pay fees may enter. If you have questions for the masters, there will be a meeting next week, and at that time you may enter your nominations for the Guild Assembly.’

‘The Assembly’s being convened?’ Scruton said.

The clerk tapped the notice. ‘That’s what it says. The Council are convening the Assembly to ratify the new taxes. Now, if there’s anyone here to pay—’

Thea put her hand up. ‘If you please, sir.’

The clerk scowled. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I want to pay the membership, for my master Benedict.’

‘And I told you before, he must attend in person. Only qualified alchemists may join the Guild.’

‘But, sir—’

Ignoring her, the clerk addressed the crowd. ‘I have reason to believe this creature has been practicing alchemy under false pretences.’

The proctor stepped out from behind him and grabbed Thea by the arm.

‘Get rid of her,’ the clerk said.

The proctor hauled Thea down the steps. The crowd jostled round her, giving way but also wanting to see what was happening.

‘High time we got rid of riff-raff who give alchemy a bad name,’ the clerk shouted after her. ‘Give her a beating and send her on her way.’

‘But I can pay,’ Thea yelled. ‘This isn’t fair!’ Faces pressed around her, alchemists young and old, rich and poor, curious but devoid of sympathy.

‘I recall Benedict,’ Scruton said. ‘Haven’t seen him in ages. Thought he was dead.’

‘That old loser?’ the blotch-faced man said. ‘Probably is dead.’

The proctor dragged Thea down the street, out of earshot of the crowd, who had already lost interest. She twisted free of his grasp.

‘Run along, kid,’ the proctor said, not unkindly. ‘Mind, if I see you back here, you’ll get a thump.’

Thea stared past him. The men gathered in front of the Guild Hall blurred into a wet mass of angry tears. She turned toward home and strode away.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair, but what could she do? The Guild was closed to her. She could no longer use the reference books in the library. What were they going to do?

What could they do?

If they made no progress on the drug, how long before the Lady lost patience? She could find another alchemist easily enough. More respectable masters wouldn’t sully their hands, but she’d find someone less scrupulous. She could afford to pay, and pay well.

The Lady had only asked Benedict — and this seemed very obvious, in hindsight — because it was his recipe in the first place. He knew red branch, and he owed her money, so he was the logical person to ask.

But Benedict wasn’t the man, or the alchemist, he used to be. If the Lady realised...

Thea had been walking with her head down, too angry and worried to pay attention to her surroundings. Only now she became vaguely aware someone was behind her, almost treading on her heels. She side-stepped to get out of their way, and for the second time that day, felt a meaty hand grasp her arm.

She shrank and twisted, but the grip was tight and sure, and the face attached to the arm was one horribly familiar, horribly scarred.

He shoved her off the street, down an alley and into a courtyard behind a shop. It was useless to struggle. He was far too big, far too strong. A scream died in her throat as he set a knife to her neck.

‘You know what happens to rats, little girl.’ He pushed her back against a wall. The knife blade brushed her skin; she didn’t dare breathe. ‘Did you rat on us?’

When she told Nevin about the Shepherds, she’d known full well the risk she ran. There was no argument to be made, no explanation, no plea. He was going to kill her.

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I did it. I had no choice, but you don’t care about that. Kill me and make it quick. At least I won’t have to face what the Lady has in store for me.’

The big man blinked. ‘What does the Lady want with a scrap like you?’

Thea lifted her chin. ‘She owns me. But go on, stick a knife in my neck. Perhaps Blazes will kill you, when they find out you’ve damaged their property.’

The blade moved away from her throat. ‘Blazes don’t scare me.’

Thea touched her neck. The knife had scratched her. She felt the sting of the cut, a warm drop of blood. ‘Yeah. I bet nothing scares you.’

The big man frowned, like he was thinking hard. ‘Blazes took you. I come looking for you the other day, but they’d took you, you was gone.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is it something to do with the drug?’

He wasn’t as stupid as he looked. Thea rubbed her neck. ‘Maybe. What of it?’

‘Maybe I don’t kill you. You could be useful.’

Thea got her breath back. She’d been terrified, and then fear had turned to reckless anger, but now there was a chance of living, she didn’t want to die.

‘You know anything about a special cargo?’ he said.

She shook her head.

He eyed her, measuring. ‘But maybe you find out. Maybe you find out what Blazes are doing. Then you tell me. Be my little rat.’

‘Blazes would kill me.’

‘I’ll kill you if you don’t.’

Thea laughed. ‘You can’t threaten me into spying for you. But...’ There had to be some way to turn this to her advantage. ‘You want to know what Blazes are doing?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I could help you.’ She didn’t know if she could. She knew something: she knew the Lady had a problem with the drug. That information might be valuable. Was this special cargo more red branch? Finding out anything Blazes wanted kept secret would be difficult, dangerous too. But say she could — this might be a chance. It might be the chance. ‘If you help me.’

He stared at her, his scarred face expressionless, and she should be terrified, but was not. For the first time in her life, she felt true hope, a real future opening before her.

‘I want out,’ she said. ‘For me and Benedict. I want away from here. Away from the Lady and the Blazes, and everything. I want to be free. Can you do that?’

He spat on his palm and offered her his hand. ‘You help us. We help you.’