A Conspiracy of Alchemists: Book One in the Chronicles of Light and Shadow Read Online Free PDF Page B

He studied her for a moment. “But tell me, are you really a non-believer? Surely you must believe in the electromancers. They are after all the ones who produce the spark that powers the machines of the Light side of the world?”
    “Electromancers can be explained by science. As for the rest, I could be called a skeptic at best,” she said. “I don’t deny the existence of the Shadow realm, but I do believe that people should not be dabbling in things they have no business with.” She fiddled with the door catch of the cubbyhole. “The organized occult has been the root of the most atrocious evil in the world and so I cannot abide it. Just look at what happened with the Emperor Napoleon and the wars. Not to mention the awful wars in Africa. One only has to open the papers for it to be plain,” she said.
    He didn’t answer, but she could see his jaw muscles move as he clenched it. “One should never say never, Miss Chance,” he said softly.
    What a strange man he was.
    The clock embedded in the flight console pinged. Five minutes to six. Time to go.
    She knocked the cork back into the brandy bottle and put it away. “And so to conclude our eventful afternoon, I think we should make ready for takeoff.” She climbed into the pilot seat and pushed forward the lever switch that controlled the ship’s spark reactor.
    The glass dome over it glowed blue-green as the reactor hummed to life. They listened to the boiler tick as hot water boiled and turned to steam. A light blinked on in the flight console. With both hands, Elle grabbed hold of the porcelain-handled crank that turned over the engine. It spluttered into life and the hull creaked as steam filled the tank that fed the thrusters. Pressure gauges thrummed and needles quivered, moving slowly upward to the proper levels needed for takeoff.
    Elle unfurled the signal flag to show the ground crew that the ship was ready.
    The moment the flag went up, men in white coveralls appeared below them. They unpegged the ropes that held the Water Lily to the ground.
    “Where is Patrice?” Marsh sounded irritated.
    “He’d better be here soon if he wants to go to London tonight,” Elle said.
    A shrill whistle pierced the air and they both looked up.
    “Stop! Cease takeoff immediately. You are ordered to stop and stay where you are!”
    There was a commotion on the ground. Docking crewmen scattered before a group of policemen who were running across the field. The constable at the back was the source of the whistle. He was shouting orders though a brass speaking-trumpet.
    “Perhaps we should see what the police want,” Elle said.
    Just then, a figure stepped out from behind the constable. Even in the fading afternoon light, there was no mistaking his meaty frame. It was the poet from the café. Elle stared at him, transfixed. “It’s the man who attacked me … the poet,” she said.
    “We have to leave. Before they reach the ship.” Marsh was next to her at the window.
    A whistle sounded in the cockpit, signaling optimal pressure had been reached in the chambers.
    “What about Patrice?” Elle asked.
    Marsh peered out of the window in the direction of the docking office. “I’m sorry, but we have to leave him behind. He can take care of himself.”
    “Wait!” Elle pointed at the ground. Patrice was charging across the grass like an angry rhinoceros, dodging passengers and policemen as he went.
    “Cast off!” Elle yelled out through the communication tube to the ground crew, who were all looking around in confusion. “Cast off now! That’s an order!”
    To her relief one of the crewmen started lifting the tether ropes off their pegs. Elle held the thruster-controls to keep the ship steady as the ropes were released one by one.
    “He’s too slow. We are going to crash.” The ship lunged and veered dangerously close to the ground as it was dragged off balance. Elle looked out of the window and almost swore aloud. The last straining tether rope was