Chapter 13 The Last Inventor #2
They went to work immediately. With the three of them, the room was packed, but Dagna didn’t seem to mind.
She whistled and hummed as she prodded the lock with her tools.
All the anger and insecurity from before were gone, replaced by apparent joy once she immediately concentrated on her work. Kraghtol envied her for that ability.
He tried to gather his thoughts. It was difficult, since he couldn’t stop thinking about how he didn’t really know what he was doing.
What if Dagna found out that he wasn’t half the alchemist he had implied he was by that bold statement?
What if he made a fool of himself in front of Valir?
And why did he care about that? He stole a glance at the noble, who seemed preoccupied with rocking on a chair while fiddling with cogs he had found on one workbench.
Still, he had a good feeling about the whole thing.
When he finally left the hidden room to gather ingredients, Valir got up from his chair and followed him immediately. Once outside, he furrowed his brow.
“What are you doing? Do you really know the recipe to open a sealed door? We didn’t learn that in class.”
“I know. I’ll need to experiment.”
That didn’t seem to ease the noble’s mind. “You mean you’re just going to throw ingredients together hoping for the best? Mrs. Hawke was pretty clear that this is a fool’s errand. Are you trying to trick Dagna?”
The last part was a sharp whisper, but Kraghtol shook his head. “It’s difficult to explain. Things… No, I have changed. I think I understand now how it’s supposed to work. Experimenting is impossible as long as you believe the things they teach you in Alchemical Basics. But with the Principles…”
He stopped. Even to his own ears, he sounded like a lunatic, and that was exactly what Valir’s face reflected.
“So, you know the mysterious truth about alchemy. The one that is not being taught in the class for exactly that. After not attending the last few weeks of lessons, getting expelled and fleeing the city. Did I get that right?”
He felt tempted to tell him about his dream now, but that wouldn’t have strengthened his position. So, he just shook his head weakly. “No; I mean yes, kind of. I’m not certain. I just… want to try.”
Valir looked at him for one moment longer and finally shrugged. “Suit yourself. Oh, by the way: a bard? Really?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted to do?” Kraghtol answered, and could nearly see the wheels turning in the noble’s head.
“Well, yes, but…” he paused, but seemed unable to come up with a proper argument. “It’s unfamiliar. You are not wrong, though; I wanted to stay incognito, so that is as good as anything else, I suppose. I might have to buy an instrument to play the part, though.”
It was hard to believe this was the same Valir he had met in his first lesson.
He had seemed so shallow then, and now, Kraghtol discovered more and more unexpected layers to the noble that made the latter more likable every day.
By now, he even enjoyed the unexpected company, even when Valir was criticizing him.
What he had said about himself was true as well.
He had changed. Earlier, when Dagna had threatened them, he had felt the familiar anger rising deep within him.
But it had been easier to control somehow, and once he had looked at his temporary companion, it had naturally transformed into the impulse to protect as if sprinkled with Activator powder.
He didn’t understand why, but it had to be his time as Krasen, the human, he reasoned.
“Oh, and speaking of unfamiliar,” Valir interrupted his thoughts. “You’re not sure about your age?”
Kraghtol had almost forgotten about that until Valir reminded him in his mocking voice.
“It’s hard to keep track of time when you’re in a wooden box on a ship,” he said defensively.
“Ah! So it was your birthday, and your twentieth even. A pity you didn’t get to throw a party down there. I imagine you have the wildest celebrations back in Misttree.”
“Mistpine,” Kraghtol corrected, and his face darkened. So much for enjoying the noble’s company.
“Right. Mistpine. What was I thinking?” Valir said.
Apparently, he had picked up on Kraghtol’s souring mood, and his next words were decidedly less hostile.
“You know, my father actually organized a big party for my twentieth birthday. Not a party, but a ball. He gifted me a second horse. I hated everything about that day. There were about, what, a hundred guests, and I didn’t know half of them.
The whole thing wasn’t about me at all. It was a pretense for politics, as it always is. ”
He smiled sadly. “Even the horse was part of an intricate deal with the stud farm, involving the son of the Duke riding one of their horses.”
Kraghtol shook his head in disbelief. “So, they gave you a horse, and you hated it because it was not about you.”
Valir chuckled. “Now you make me sound like a brat. But yes, it’s true. I’d rather have received some genuine affection for once instead of a ball and a horse, but alas. I guess you always want what you can’t get the most, huh?”
Suddenly, Merricks’s buttery cake didn’t seem so bad anymore. At least from his foster father Kraghtol had received genuine affection, if not from many other people.
“I doubt they have suitable horses around here under the mountain, so let’s at least get you something fancy to drink for your birthday. My treat.”
Kraghtol had to chuckle. “What’s not your treat these days?”
Things weren’t as easy as he had hoped. After a surprisingly enjoyable impromptu birthday celebration, which really only was Valir treating him to a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine, Kraghtol got back to the matter at hand.
Given what the seal did, it could only be based on two of the eight Principles.
Either Within, maintaining an undisturbed inside of the sealed area undisturbed, or Without, keeping everyone out.
Kraghtol was sure there would be more clues concerning the nature of the alchemy used in the markings on the metal, but since neither Valir nor himself could make any sense of them, he had to resort to trying blindly.
It was even harder trying to find ingredients corresponding to the Principles than it was with the elements.
He tried mixing mushrooms that grew inside with crushed ore and various roots, pressing the ingredients into a viscous pulp until his arms ached.
When he covered the metal seal with the paste, however, and applied the Activator powder while focusing on getting inside, all that happened after the telltale blue flame was that the mixture crept together on its own.
The sight reminded Kraghtol of maggots crawling towards each other until the paste condensed into a perfect sphere and fell to the ground with an almost metallic clank.
The ball was surprisingly heavy, way heavier than the sum of the ingredients, and although it was fascinating, it didn’t help with the problem at hand.
His next experiments didn’t go better. A mixture of river water, fleeting smoke and fluffy cream produced a persistent smell of flowers, but didn’t affect the seal at all.
He alternated between trying to mix something with Within and Without affinity, and although the results always reflected the Principle used, he didn’t get any closer to affecting the seal.
Since he didn’t know what Principle an ingredient was associated with, a lot of guessing was involved, which took its time.
Regardless, every time he created a mixture that somehow went with the Principle in question, he felt a rush of joy.
It felt right. When he was trying to replicate the human transformation potion in the student laboratory, the outcome seemed completely random.
This time, there was a pattern in the chaos, at least, and confirmed everything he had learned in the dream: alchemy was based on these eight Principles, and not on some arbitrary four elements.
That crucial bit of insight was still not enough to solve the problem. There was something else he was missing, and when after several failed attempts during the following days the Activator became scarce, he had to admit he wouldn’t get far like this.
Dagna, who had spent most of her time watching his experiments with interest, scratched her chin.
“So, you’re saying you can’t undo that alchemical thing, then? No way through?”
Valir looked up from his newest acquisition: a complicated-looking Dwarven lyre, with a bronze frame and eleven metal strings.
Only six of those were meant to be strummed, and when he did, the other five resonated in a haunting aftersound, filling the room even after the leading note had faded away.
“You can hardly blame him. He didn’t even know things like that existed before he came here.”
“Perhaps if I had more time or… materials to experiment with, I could come up with something. I thought it was easier. Sorry,” Kraghtol said.
Even though there was no contract hindering him anymore, he didn’t want to bore Dagna with too much detail about the Activator.
Especially since he didn’t understand the substance himself.
“Oh, that’s alright,” Dagna shrugged, and spoke up when another metallic-sounding note vibrated through the room.
“It’s not like I could get through before you showed up.
But I’ve got another idea. If we can’t get through the front door, perhaps we should just go around it.
Can you enhance explosives with your alchemy? ”
“Explosives?” Kraghtol was immediately reminded of his glow-paste batch that had burst into flames.
“Yep. I’ve gotten my hands on some mining blast powder. It’s not enough to get through the wall on its own, and it’s difficult to get more, since we have to import saltpeter from the south for it. But if you could make it explode more, perhaps we can just create our own door.”