The Iron Witch (17 page)

Breathing fast, she ran her fingers along the back of the clock, behind the section housing the clock face, searching for some kind of catch. Her fingers hit something small and solid protruding from the wood; with great relief, she flicked the switch and heard a satisfying click near her ear. Stepping back and resting her trembling fingers against the beautifully polished wooden panels on the front, Donna tried to see what she’d accomplished.

For a moment it didn’t seem like anything was different, and she cast a confused glance at Xan.

And then she felt cool air brush across her face as the case of the grandfather clock opened. The wooden front swung wide and Donna had to jump out of the way. When she leaned in close again, she could just make out that there was no visible mechanism or catch on the smooth edge of the door.

A thrill ran down her spine. She impatiently gestured to Xan to shine the light inside the clock. Then she screwed up her eyes and tried to see into the complicated inner workings, all cogs and wheels made of polished brass, half hoping it would be easy and she’d find a handy vial of elixir just waiting for her somewhere. Maybe wrapped in black silk like her aunt’s Tarot cards, to keep any negative energy from affecting the contents.

There was no vial.

However, there was—at the very bottom of the casement, sitting innocuously on the heavy base underneath the main workings and brass pendulum of the clock—a steel lever with a wooden handle. She reached toward it eagerly.

“Wait,” Xan hissed, grabbing her elbow. The flashlight beam swung crazily for a moment. “You don’t have any idea what that does.”

Biting her lip, Donna met his eyes and tried to look more confident than she felt. “There has to be something here, Xan. Why would there be a secret way of opening the clock if it wasn’t hiding something? And look—” Here she gestured at the empty casement, empty of everything but the regular mechanical bits and pieces you’d expect to find inside a grandfather clock. “There’s nothing else inside, so this
has
to be what we’re looking for. I just know it.”

Reluctantly, he released her arm and she turned back to the lever. Heart pounding, sweat trickling down the back of her neck, she gripped the handle tightly and pushed, noticing how easily the mechanism slipped into position. It seemed as though it was used regularly and kept well-oiled.

Then the entire clock sprang silently away from the wall. Just a few inches, but enough to make it obvious that there was a doorway behind it.

“Whoa,” said Xan. “Cool.”

Donna tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. “Come on,” she whispered. “A secret door that Simon’s desperate to protect has got to be something good. Let’s go.”

She pulled the clock farther away from the wall and slipped behind it before Xan could do anything stupid like offer to go first.
No way
, Donna thought. Time was running out, and nothing was going to stop her from discovering a way to save Navin.

The corridor was lined with cold gray stone and tightly packed earth. It became colder the farther away from the entrance they walked. The floor seemed to be tilting slightly, and Donna soon realized that they were heading down into what would be a basement level. Only it wasn’t a basement set beneath the
house
—it had to be located beneath the estate grounds, within the property but beyond the outer walls of the mansion.

There was no need for the flashlight or any illumination from a cell phone as they walked, thanks to the strange multicolored gemstones pressed into the tunnel walls at regular intervals. Donna had never seen anything like them, but they provided enough natural light that she and Xan could walk the length of the passageway without falling over one another.

The smell, on the other hand, was disgusting.

It was like rotten eggs combined with bitter vinegar, and Donna had to pull her scarf around her face to keep from gagging. Xan didn’t seem quite so affected, although he agreed it was “pretty gross.” Donna knew that alchemical experiments often used sulphur, and her anticipation grew at the thought that they might have found Simon Gaunt’s laboratory.

Everybody knew where Quentin’s lab was—it was no secret that he liked to putter around in there most mornings, and Donna had even caught a glimpse of it through the door once when she was a very small child. The archmaster’s study and workshop was on the very top floor of the house, in an attic that had been especially converted so that noise and smells were kept away from the main part of the house. But nobody knew where Simon worked on alchemical matters, or whether he even
had
a lab of his own. This wasn’t surprising, since as the official secretary of the Order he wasn’t much more than a glorified administrator. Donna had long suspected that Quentin created the job for Simon because of their private relationship.

Around a sharp bend in the tunnel, they suddenly reached the heaviest oak door Donna had ever seen. For a horrible moment she panicked; surely it hadn’t all been for nothing. If the door was locked, would her strength be enough to break it down? It was pretty damn solid-looking, and it could also be magically sealed. At least the nasty stench seemed to be fading—either that or she was just getting used to it.

Donna examined the door and breathed a sigh of relief. There didn’t even appear to
be
a lock on it. The only thing visible—apart from the black-painted iron handle—was a strange inscription stamped into a plaque hanging at eye level:

OUR WORK BEGINS
IN DARKNESS AND IN DEATH

“Cheery,” Xan noted.

“Yeah, alchemists are a bunch of laughs to hang out with,” Donna said with a heavy sigh.

“Actually,” he replied, “I’d say spending time with you has given me some of the best moments of my life.” His face was totally sincere, but Donna couldn’t help the look she gave him. Did he really
think
that? Flustered, she said the first thing that came into her head. “Yeah, because I’m
so
special.”

Xan frowned. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down. You shouldn’t do that, Donna.”

She shrugged, uncomfortable having so much focus put on her. “Well, I can’t see how hanging out with me has been too fun. Okay, if you’re going to define ‘fun’ as getting attacked by elves and having to face the worst possible crap that feeds your nightmares, then maybe you’d be right.”

His eyes glinted in the near darkness. “You left out the part where the guy gets to kiss the beautiful girl.”

Donna was glad the light was so faint at this end of the corridor; she didn’t want him to see how much she was blushing. She ignored him and tried the handle, relieved when the knob turned with no resistance.

When they walked into the room beyond, Donna realized that she was finally seeing what a true alchemical laboratory looked like. The room’s contents were the stuff of legend—a near perfect match to the depictions in the textbooks she’d studied under Alma’s watchful eye. And yet it was so much more. This lab was
real
; there was a feeling of life and work here, a sense that something magical was brewing somewhere in this very room. In comparison, Quentin Frost’s pitiful setup paled into insignificance; it seemed like a kid’s chemistry set. Which was strange, Donna thought, given that
Quentin
was supposed to be the leader of the Order—the archmaster.

The evidence before her seemed to indicate that Simon Gaunt was a lot more than just an administrator. Maybe he was a real
magus
, which was pretty much unheard of among modern alchemical Orders. At last, Donna thought, her suspicions about Simon’s behavior over the years had been vindicated. She’d always known there was something shady about the man.

In the center of the large open space ahead of them was a tall, cylindrical brick structure. It was almost as tall as she was, and upon closer inspection Donna saw that it was some sort of a furnace. Xan followed her over to examine the thing. Heat was coming off it in waves, and Donna realized that it was an
athanor
—an oven which was traditionally kept burning for most of the year.

She gripped Xan’s arm, remembering at the last minute to be gentle. “Now I know what the smoke is!” she said excitedly.

Xan eased his arm away. “What smoke?”

“Oh, sorry.” Donna shook her head slowly and tried to calm down. “The smoke I see all year round in the far corner of the grounds, beyond the garden. We must be directly underneath that part of the estate.”

“So, what is this thing? I mean, it’s obviously some kind of furnace, but what does it do?”

Donna grinned. “Let me introduce you to Slow Henry.” She swept her arm in a mock-formal arc, as if presenting the athanor to him.

“‘Slow Henry’?” Xan’s lips were curving into a smile. Her excitement was obviously infectious.

“It’s sort of a nickname, because of the steady and reliable service it provides. The athanor burns slowly through all seasons, rarely letting its owner down. Without fire, there’d be no alchemy. Everything starts here.”

Who knew alchemy could be interesting?
Because this
was
interesting. Maybe if Alma had actually let her see this, she would’ve paid more attention to her studies

Her eyes were already sweeping the rest of the room. On one wall, a myriad of glass vessels hung from wooden pegs, all different shapes and sizes forming a stunning collection. Donna recognized some of them from her books, but others were completely mysterious. She could see a spirit holder, ran her fingers over an angel tube, and admired a particularly beautiful moon vessel.

At the farthest end of the room, a small shadowed alcove was set back into the stone wall. Donna walked over and saw that it actually opened into another chamber—this one tiny compared to the main room, with only enough space for a slate-gray curtain that fell from the ceiling all the way to the floor. The heavy curtain was attached to a length of rail, which was bent at angles to form a square; it was rather like a giant shower curtain. It reminded her of something a conjuror would have onstage, so that if you stepped inside the space beyond, you might be in danger of disappearing.

Her mouth went suddenly dry as she realized what this was. This was the most sacred area of an alchemist’s laboratory, the oratorium—an area for meditation and quiet contemplation. Donna’s hand reached out, almost of its own accord, to touch the rough material of the curtain—

“What’s this?” Xan called out.

She jumped guiltily, strangely glad of the distraction, and popped her head back into the main chamber to see what he’d found.

Copper tubing zigzagged crazily along the wall. Donna followed it to its source on the floor: a thick, pear-shaped vessel made of an indefinable material.
Simon
had a serpent condenser
—t
hat was crazy.
An ancient piece of apparatus, the serpent condenser was used to isolate the living essences of any substance. If she remembered correctly, the condenser was an important part of the process used to create
homunculi
—tiny artificial beings infused with the life force of a variety of chemical compounds.

“Xan, this is it!” Donna clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing she’d practically shouted. Not that it really mattered down here, but still … it didn’t hurt to be careful.

Xan stared at the condenser as though it might start producing the elixir at any moment. “This thing creates the elixir of life?”

“No, no—I don’t mean that.” Donna waved her hands, stumbling over her words in her enthusiasm. “This is a serpent condenser. Okay, it’s a totally long and boring explanation, but trust me when I say that this is used in a process that supposedly creates miniature life forms. But I don’t think it works
without
the elixir.”

Xan didn’t look impressed. “So?”

“
So?
So why would Simon have a freaking condenser down here if he wasn’t actually using it? There’d be no point—it’s useless without a drop of the elixir added to a mixture of other compounds. You’d need to do that every time you operated it.” Donna never realized how grateful she’d be for the endless hours spent studying historical treatises about alchemical practice.