Part 16 (2/2)

”Green eyes!” cried Thorston. ”All such must be avoided.” He spun about and pointed at Alfric. ”Does he have green eyes too?”

Alfric shrank into the corner.

”Master,” cried a frightened Sybil, ”I implore you-”

”I will not be endangered!” cried Thorston. ”He must go too.” He lifted his hand, only to be interrupted by a banging on the door.

Thorston turned from Alfric. ”What is that?” he demanded, his hand dropping.

”It's someone at the front door,” Odo said in haste.

Thorston went to the window and looked out. ”There are soldiers milling in the courtyard,” he said. ”And a gallows. Why has it been erected? Why must I always be threatened by death? Indeed, why have any life at all if it must end? What have you done?” he shouted at Sybil. ”And you,” he said to Odo. ”You, who I trusted. You're a fool. Well, it's time enough to be done with you, too.”

”Please, Master,” said Sybil, ”the gallows is meant to threaten all of us.”

”Why?” demanded Thorston.

”It's the city reeve, Master,” said Odo. ”He wants gold.”

”What made him think there is any here?”

”We're ... not sure,” said Odo. ”Perhaps it was Mistress Weebly, the apothecary. That boy-the one you just transformed. He was her apprentice.”

The knocking on the door resumed, louder.

”I've no time to deal with anyone,” said Thorston. ”I have yet to finish with the stones.”

”Do you wish me to do something, Master?” Sybil offered.

”If it will make the man go away, I'll give him some of these coins,” said Thorston. ”They'll turn to nothing soon enough.” He scooped the coins up and went down the steps.

”Odo,” said Sybil. ”He mustn't.”

”How am I to stop him?”

”Hateful man,” she cried. ”Run to the back room,” she said to Alfric. ”Hide. I'll tell him you're gone.”

As Alfric ran off, she hurried down the steps-Odo with her-stopping halfway down to look on. Thorston was at the door, lifting the crossbar.

”Master,” Sybil called. ”I beg you, don't give those coins away. It will only cause more difficulties.”

Thorston turned. ”Don't give me advice. These Fulworth people are fools. How long have I managed to hide from them? I a.s.sure you, they'll be satisfied with false gold.” He yanked the door open.

It was Bashcroft. He held up a lantern and gazed at Thorston with puzzlement. ”I am Ambrose Bashcroft,” he announced. ”Fulworth's city reeve. And you, from your age and likeness, I presume you ... are the son of the alchemist, Master Thorston. Very well: I must see your father.”

”I fear,” said Thorston, ”you cannot speak to him.”

”Why? I spoke to him before.”

”My father is dead.”

”Dead,” cried Bashcroft. ”When?”

”Many years ago.”

”But-I spoke to him today, right here.”

”I a.s.sure you,” said Thorston, ”my father is no longer living.”

A baffled Bashcroft stared at Thorston. ”Are you truly your father's son?”

”May I suggest,” said Thorston, ”it's the rare man who is not not his father's son. And you sir, why have you come?” his father's son. And you sir, why have you come?”

Bashcroft drew himself up to his full girth and thumped his staff-of-office down. ”There is gold within this house-made by your father. To make such gold is illegal. Dura Dura lex, sed lex. lex, sed lex. The law is hard, but it is the law. Since I am the law, I must be hard. I have come to claim not just the gold but the method by which you make it.” The law is hard, but it is the law. Since I am the law, I must be hard. I have come to claim not just the gold but the method by which you make it.”

”Then for your pains,” said Thorston, ”you are welcome to this.” And he flung the handful of coins at the reeve.

Taken by surprise, Bashcroft bent over and hastily began to pluck up the coins. Once in hand he let his lantern s.h.i.+ne on them. He was still examining them when Thorston slammed the door shut and barred it from within.

There was immediate banging on the door. ”Wait! By order of the law. I must have all of your father's golden h.o.a.rd. Otherwise you'll be arrested and hanged. All of you!”

19.

Thorston went back up the steps, pa.s.sing Sybil and Odo on his way to the upper room. When he reached it, he suddenly stopped and stood still, as if struggling to remember something.

Sybil came to the top of the steps. ”Master, what is it?”

Thorston stretched and yawned. ”I am tired.”

”Master,” said Sybil, ”of late you have been often weary.”

”It's the stones,” said Thorston. He sat down on his bed. ”They do that to one. But all the same,” he said, ”I think-” He turned his head one way, then another, as if looking for something. He opened the Book Without Words, studied it, then went to the chest and looked through it.

He swung about. ”Where are they?” he said. ”Must I rid myself of you, too?”

Sybil was too frightened to move.

”Give them to me!” he shouted.

Sybil held out her shaking hand. The remaining two green stones lay in her hand.

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