The Alchemist Read Online Free PDF

the Mayor asked. “You’re who, then?”
    “Jeoz, the alchemist,” the secretary announced.
    “And he reeks of magic,” Majister Scacz murmured.
    I made myself smile. “It is my device.”
    The Mayor’s eyebrows rose, fuzzy gray caterpillars arching over his ruddy face. His mustache was short, no child in his history at all. An old scar puckered one side of his cheek, pulling his mouth into a slight smile. “You practice magic?” he asked sharply. “Are you mad?”
    I made a placating gesture. “I do not practice, Excellency. No. Not at all.” A nervous laugh escaped my lips. “I practice alchemy. It does not bring bramble. I have no dealings with the curse of Jhandpara.” It was unbelievable how nervous I had become. “No need for the Executioner, here. None at all.” I untied my bag and began pulling out the pieces of the balanthast. “You see…” I screwed one of the copper ends into its main chamber. Unwrapped the combustion bulb, breathing a sigh of relief that it had survived the trip. “You see,” I repeated myself, “I have created something, which your Excellency will appreciate. I think.”
    Beside me, Jiala coughed. Whether from sickness, or nervousness, I couldn’t say. Scacz’s eyes went to her. Held. I didn’t like the way he stared at her. His thoughtful expression. I plunged on.
    “It is a balanthast.”
    The Mayor examined the device. “It looks more like an arquebus.”
    I made myself smile. “Not at all. Though it does use the reactants of fire. But my device has properties most extraordinary.” My hands were shaking. I found the mint. The neem bark. Lora flower. Set them in the chamber.
    Scacz was watching closely. “Am I watching sorcery, sir. Right before myself? Unsanctioned?”
    “N-no.” I shook under his examination. Tried to load the balanthast.
    Jiala took it away. “Here, Papa.”
    “Y-yes. Good. Thank you, child.” I took a deep breath. “You see, a balanthast destroys bramble. And not just a little. The balanthast reaches for a bramble’s root and poisons it utterly. Place it within a yard or two of a heart root, and it will destroy more than a bramble crew can destroy in half a day.”
    The Mayor leaned close. “You have proof of this?”
    “Yes. Of course. I’m sorry.” I pulled a small clay pot shrouded in burlap out of my bag and put on my leather gloves before unwrapping it.
    “Bramble,” I explained.
    They both sucked in their breath at the sight of the potted plant. I looked up at their consternation. “We use gloves.”
    “You carry bramble into the city?” the Mayor asked. “Deliberately?”
    I hesitated. Finally I said, “It was necessary. For the testing. The science of alchemy requires much trial and error.” Their faces were heavy with disapproval. I lit my match, and touched it to the glass bulb. Clamped it closed.
    “Hold your breath, Jiala.” I looked apologetically at the Mayor. “The smoke is quite acrid.”
    Mayor and Majister also sucked in their breaths. The balanthast shivered as its energy discharged. A ripple of death passed into the soil. The pot cracked as the bramble writhed and died.
    “Magic!” Scacz cried, lunging forward. “What magic is this?”
    “No, Majister! Alchemy. Magic has never been able to affect bramble. It does not sap bramble’s poison, nor kill its seeds, nor burn back its branches. This is something new.”
    Scacz grabbed for the balanthast. “I must see this.”
    “It’s not magic.” I yanked the balanthast back, afraid that in his hurry he would destroy it. “It uses the natural properties of the neem,” I said. “A special species, loved by majisters, yes, but this is merely the application of nature’s principles. We vaporize the neem with a few other ingredients, force it through the tube, and with the aid of sulphur and saltpeter and charcoal, we send its essence into the earth. Even a small application does wonders. The neem essence binds with the root of the bramble. Kills it,