THE ALCHEMIST'S JOURNEY

Acknowledgments

Writing this book has been one of the greatest joys of my life and one of my biggest surprises; I had thoroughly convinced myself this was something I could never do. So it is only appropriate that the first person I have to thank is my big brother, Jim Curlin, who was the first to suggest that I should seek a career in writing.

Next, I must thank my loving wife, Tracy Curlin, who has supported me through every decision I’ve made, good or bad. Without her blessing and support, I would never have started on this endeavor.

I also give my thanks to my sisters, Sheri Patterson and Shelli Henehan, to whom I also owe a debt of gratitude for their encouragement. Sheri is my target audience, and her enthusiasm for this book is largely what kept me going. Shelli helped get me in contact with good friends of hers in the publishing business.

A big thank you to Fulton Books for publishing this book, especially my publishing assistant, Heather, for her patience with my anxiety-ridden self.

Prologue

On October 31, 1998, it was announced to the world that monsters exist peacefully among us. The announcement was delivered via telecast from the headquarters of the United Nations, where UN delegates were standing, side by side, with leaders from the great vampire houses and werewolf packs. The feed was broadcast to every country and streamed on the internet with much fanfare. This had been a well-orchestrated media event, with the initial broadcast followed up by interviews with government officials, prominent members of the vampire community, and one alpha werewolf. As the leader of North America’s largest and most peaceful pack, Stuart Jackson was deemed the only pack leader presentable to the public. This was a big, important day for the world’s citizens, delivered with a message of hope and peace and the promise of a bright future. All the platitudes and lies our leaders usually spout to keep the public reassured and calm. The fact that vampires have fed on human blood was played down quite a bit, and the fact that werewolves can be uncontrollable killing machines was completely glossed over. All in all, a good day for monsters and another reason to celebrate Halloween.

There are at least three things that the public was not told on that day. First, vampires and werewolves are hardly the only supernatural entities that inhabit our planet; they’re merely the ones we can, if we’re careful, live with. There are plenty of others our governments will still work to keep hidden. Acknowledging them would reveal to the masses how fragile our existence truly is. So the mysterious will continue to be explained away with gas leaks, sunspots, mass hysteria, mass hallucinations, and, of course, gangs on PCP. For example, the zombie that made the news for attacking a homeless man was reported as an addict under the effect of mephedrone, or bath salts.

The second thing is our governments have known the truth about the supernatural for a lot longer than October 31, 1998. In actuality, the French and British governments’ leaders have known the truth since the start of World War II. At that time, delegates from the vampire and werewolf nations approached the Allied powers and offered to help against the Nazi regime. This was not an act of altruism but self-preservation as Hitler had amassed occult items and followers that would likely put them in thrall to him. Vampires and werewolves fought side by side with Allied forces in every significant action in both theaters of war. Without their aid against Hitler’s supernatural forces, it is doubtful we would have defeated them.

The third thing our governments kept from the public is the knowledge that magic is real and there is a group of practitioners that have been protecting the world for centuries. Magic was deemed knowledge that should be closely guarded due to the danger it represents, much like keeping guns out of the hands of toddlers. The concern is genuine but somewhat mitigated by the fact that the overwhelming majority of people have no magical capability. However, just one rotten apple with enough talent can cause unimaginable havoc. For example, whole towns disappearing, a deadly fog enveloping a Pennsylvania town in 1948, or twenty-one people dying in a flood of hot molasses. It is for these reasons the Magistracy of the Supernatural was formed.

From historical records, it is believed that magic did not exist in our world originally. The prevailing theory is that supernovae in distant galaxies across multiple dimensions weakened the barriers between realities. Local planet-side disasters created cracks where those barriers were weakened. A new type of energy spilled forth from these cracks between worlds, an energy that powers magical spells and enchantments. For earth, it is believed that the first local cracks occurred in the Aegean Islands during the volcanic eruption of Thera in 1610 BC. It wasn’t until after that eruption that there began to be sightings of otherworldly creatures that we now know came from other dimensions. Some of the creatures were benign and just curious; others were malevolent. Sadly, all were treated with fear and violence, so they all became universally dangerous. Another problem caused by the cracks was the new energy that gave some people fantastic abilities—abilities they did not understand and could not control. Suddenly, people would find their crops or livestock dead after feuding with a neighbor. Whole towns would be decimated by a mysterious plague, people would spontaneously burst into flame and burn to ashes, and the dead would rise and attack the living.

Had it not been for the intervention of the Xillai, things would’ve gotten much worse. The Xillai are beings from another dimension with centuries of experience wielding this magical energy, which they named Celestium. To prevent the misunderstanding that had befallen other dimensional travelers, they appeared as humans. They began seeking out and teaching those with magical capabilities. The Xillai helped form the Magi Academy for teaching practitioners how to control and use Celestium constructively. Later, with their help, the Magistracy of the Supernatural was created to perform three services: protect those with no capacity for magic from all supernatural threats, to punish the adept who use magic to harm others, and to control the research of magic, ensuring the most dangerous forms do not fall into the wrong hands. This last responsibility was shared with elected dignitaries from Xillai to help ensure the upper echelons of the Magistracy were held accountable as well.

Once the groundwork for the Magistracy and academy had been laid, human sorcerers and Xillai delegates began the task of finding all the dimensional cracks on earth. This was so they could identify with contained hostile entities and which contained potential allies. This is a never-ending task because new cracks are always formed following a significant natural disaster. Finding new allies created a new responsibility for the Magistracy, establishing an office responsible for maintaining relationships with our extra-dimensional ambassadors. The Magistracy’s Office of Dimensional Relations established the first witches, individuals that serve as the representatives for extra-dimensional ambassadors. These are typically individuals with low to no magical capability drawn to the promise of power that comes from binding themselves to an extra-dimensional being.

Over the years, the ranks of the Magistracy have not changed from when it was first formed. The bottom rank is the servitors. These are either individuals with low magical capability or individuals that want to work their way up instead of attending the Magi Academy. Servitors are responsible for the tasks that require the use of Celestium at its lowest level. They perform tasks like mixing alchemical potions with fixed formulas, channeling translation spells for delegates, refreshing enchantments on knights’ equipment, and serving as assistants in magical research. The next rank up is knights, the military and law enforcement arm of the Magistracy. Trained in hand to hand, weapons, and magical combat, they eliminate supernatural threats and enforce magical law. Without the knights, vampire lords would have taken control of earth long ago. Above them, in order, are the magicians, wizards, and sorcerers, the heavies in wielding Celestium. If the knights run into something beyond their skill, the higher ranks get involved, and the problem is solved, period. The ruling body of the Magistracy is the Council of Magi, which consists of nine of the most senior sorcerers and the praetor. The praetor is the most powerful sorcerer and de facto head of the Magistracy. Jonathan Weiss is the current praetor and has served for over a century.

Lastly, there’s the alchemist. This is the person—singular—responsible for researching all new alchemical potions and items of enchantment. This individual must have a magical capability of magician or higher and must be thoroughly versed in runecraft. This position is so highly revered and sought after by practitioners that it is no longer attached to the Magistracy and has, instead, been pawned off onto the Magi Academy. Unfortunately, due to a lack of funding, the post has sat empty for over one hundred years. That is, until I was presented with the opportunity to take over this most prestigious position.

Chapter 1

I was completing my preparations when Cyd announced that my driver had arrived.

Thank you, Cyd, I said to the little automaton. Please let him know I’ll be down in a minute.

No need, Cyd said in his high, tinny voice. He’s on his way up and will soon be at the front door.

I sighed; the worst part of my day was about to start.

Thank you, Cyd, I said. I still have a couple of things to do before I’m ready to go. Please do not answer the door when he arrives. I’ll let him in myself.

Yes, sir. With that, Cyd rolled away on his copper wheels, resuming his regular task of patrolling the apartment. Cyd’s abilities are limited for the time being, but he is a very efficient messenger and watchdog.

As he left, I listened for a minute, searching for any abnormal clicks or clanks in the tiny clockwork figure. I heard nothing, but his usual hum and a soothing ticking that reassured me he was in fine working order. Satisfied, I turned back to my work, carefully screwing the cap on the Dewar’s flask and disposing of the medical tubing and needle. I would have to remember to have Cyd incinerate them later as a safety precaution. Finally, I added the flask to my already-overstuffed valise, picked it up, and headed for the front door. I needed only a fourth of the items in my bag but never felt comfortable unless I was overprepared.

I opened the door to find the driver waiting patiently with the usual smirk on his face. Like most vampires, he was handsome in the typical cold way, like a creature lovingly carved from marble. He was tall, with immaculately styled blond hair, high cheekbones, and skin the color of fine porcelain. He had blue eyes the color of glacial ice, which fit a creature with no warmth in him. Unlike other vampires I knew, this one had the air of a predator, enhanced by the severe look of his all-black double-breasted vintage chauffeur attire. Most people would not ride in an elevator alone with this man, worried that they might not reach their destination. Unfortunately, I had no choice though I was more annoyed than fearful of this creature.

I believe I’ve said this before, I said. But let’s try again. I’d prefer that you wait in the car for me because you tend to unnerve my neighbors. As I’m sure you are aware, my valet always lets me know when you arrive and is perfectly capable of communicating with you when I’ll be down. I suggest that this be the last time I have to tell you this.

I did nothing to hide the irritation in my voice. Every time we make this trip, I request that he stay in the car, and every time he ignores me.

The driver merely nodded once and said nothing.

Let me just grab my valise and my cane, and I’ll be ready to go, I said as I turned away.

No weapons. The cane stays here, the driver said in a flat monotone.

A sane person would have automatically complied with any command given in that voice, probably while shivering and saying silent prayers to their Maker.

You know perfectly well that Lord Schreiber has granted me permission to bring whatever I need with me, I replied.

You walk fine and do not require a cane.

Correct, I replied. But it is raining, and I do need an umbrella.

The driver smiled in a very unpleasant way and stated in the same monotone, serial-killer voice, A cane is not an umbrella.

My cane is many things, I stated matter-of-factly. And I’m bringing it with me, or we can cancel the whole trip. Of course, you know that canceling is out of the question, and I’d imagine Lord Schreiber would not be happy with how you’re currently wasting his time.

We stood there and stared at each other for about half a minute.

Get your cane, and let’s go. My master needs you immediately, he said begrudgingly.

With that, he turned his back to me and headed for the elevator. I know he was highly irritated and disappointed in my lack of fear, but I don’t see why he’d expect anything different. We have played a similar scene dozens of times before. I grabbed my valise and my cane with another deep sigh and caught up with my companion at the elevator. We rode down in silence, which was a blessing, though the tension between us was still palpable. However, I was not concerned about the tension as it would only result in a tolerable and boring silence. Once the elevator reached the lobby, we exited and headed to the front door. I was glad to see the lobby was mostly empty, so I wouldn’t have to see the fearful glances of my neighbors. The lady at the front desk and the doorman greeted me with a friendly wave but gave my companion wary looks.

Thank you, Frank, I said to the doorman as he opened the door.

Have an enjoyable day, Mr. Graye, Frank responded.

As my companion passed him, Frank unconsciously put his right hand in the pocket of his uniform, clutching the automatic pistol I knew he carried. My companion must have noticed this, too, because I saw a small smile quickly flash across his face. A gun would not have done Frank much good against the driver.

Outside the apartment building, heavy rain was falling. Before leaving the safety of the awning, I raised my cane above my head and focused a small amount of will, and a blue translucent dome of light formed around the sphere on top. I walked out from under the awning, holding my cane upright, and the rain ran down the sides of the shield, keeping me perfectly dry.

See, I said, facing my companion, umbrella.

Without a word, he simply headed for the big black car awaiting us at the curb and got in the driver’s side. That he didn’t open the back door for me first was the only indication he gave that I had irritated him. I climbed in the car, dismissing the shield I’d conjured, and the driver smoothly pulled the car away from the curb and into traffic. This was my favorite part of the trip as there was a partition separating me from the driver. This meant I wouldn’t have to see or engage him in conversation and could simply ride in peace.

*****

I spent my time staring out the window, watching the city drown in rain. On a sunny day, this area of the city was quite beautiful. The buildings were a mix of old, stately looking structures combined with newer architecture designed to blend with the old. Today, under dark clouds and a heavy curtain of rain, they blended together into one gray mass of stone and steel, more brutalist than new classical. Gone were the boutique clothing and jewelry stores. Gone was the quaint but stylish coffee shop at the corner and chic bistro with the red-and-white striped awning. Gone was the chrome and glass high-rise with the high-powered attorney offices on the top floor. All were replaced by gray and austere-looking stone edifices reminiscent of the abandoned buildings on Hashima Island. As I was riding with a vampire, the scenery seemed appropriate, as if we were driving through a scene from a lost Bergman film. The guy up front would have been cast as an incarnation of Death.

I shivered with the chill I had just given myself. Merciful moon, my thoughts had turned grim today. But other than the oppressive weather, there was no reason for it, really. Except for a driver that treated me like something he’d like to scrape off his shoe, I always look forward to this task. Lord Schreiber is a gracious host, and most of his entourage has always been cordial to me. Tor, in particular, I would even consider a friend as we had fought together in an uprising of rogue vampires. The service I’m providing I take a lot of pride in since the elixir I’ll be mixing may save Lord Schreiber’s life, as well as help future vampires with the same affliction. I’ve also come to love the work I do though I’ve had to keep the Magistracy in the dark on how I do it. While the servitors of the Magistracy are perfectly capable of mixing up established formulas, my methods for creating new ones differ significantly from those taught at the Magi Academy. Most mages would rather increase their knowledge and power by studying magic as it is currently taught. That was certainly my plan before it was taken away from me. Thanks to my godfather, however, I’ve learned much more than I could at the Magistracy and have a far greater knowledge of Celestium than any of my former peers.

As I was ruminating, I opened my valise to double-check that I had everything with me. This is a habit of mine; though I know I packed everything I need, I always convince myself that I missed something. My valise was an old, battered leather doctor’s bag that I picked up at a pawnshop. I felt it added a bit of gravitas to my appearance. If I was going to do this job, I was damn well going to play the part like a professional. Luckily, I had brought everything I needed, for as I was closing the bag, the driver pulled up to the ornate iron gates that led to Lord Schreiber’s manse. Constructed in the late 1800s—for Lord Schreiber if I’m not mistaken—it’s a beautiful example of similar mansions from the gilded age though a tenth as large as a Carnegie Mansion or Hearst Castle. While his wealth was far greater than his human contemporaries, keeping his house smaller drew far less attention. This was appropriate for vampires of that era. Even today, acceptance of vampires does not equal trust, so they are still careful to keep a low profile.

The driver pulled into the front driveway, where human guards were milling about, keeping a watchful eye for potential threats. Though vampires can stand a small amount of exposure to daylight, guard duty during the day is best done by humans. Once the driver came to a stop, one of the guards opened my door and escorted me inside, allowing the driver to park the car in the underground garage.

*****

Awaiting me in the foyer was Tor Anderson, Kasper’s bodyguard and second-in-command. For a bodyguard, Tor’s appearance was not particularly imposing. He was of average height, around six feet, with a fit athletic build. He had brown hair, a few inches short of shoulder length, and a neatly trimmed Van Gogh. Unlike most vampires, Tor had warm brown eyes. Instead of resembling a supermodel carved from ice, like most vampires, he was attractive in a wholesome folk-singer way. He smiled at me warmly, something I had thought was impossible for a vampire and shook my hand in a firm grip. I liked and respected Tor and, appearances aside, knew his reputation to be one of the deadliest warriors to walk the planet. Werewolves still feared his name due to his renown in the vampire-werewolf skirmishes more than a century ago.

Hello, Finn. Thank you for coming. Though he was smiling, I thought for a second I saw something else in his eyes. It was gone so quickly I dismissed it as nothing.

I trust Hans was pleasant? Tor asked innocently. He obviously understood very well the relationship I had with the driver.

Oh yes, he was very friendly, I replied wryly. We’re going out for ice cream later.

Tor laughed at this and clapped me on the back.

Is Lord Schreiber ready for me?

Tor shook his head. Not quite. He asked me to show you into the library. Is there anything that you’ll need?

Just a work space, like a table, where I can mix the elixir.

No problem. It’s already set up for you, he said as he beckoned me to follow him. Tor led me from the foyer, through the main hall, into a large room to the right of it. The room was richly lighted, with comfortable overstuffed chairs, lots of dark polished wood, and bookcases lining the walls. There was even a second story of bookshelves with a rolling library ladder attached to reach them. For as long as Lord Schreiber has been alive, I guessed that he had read all the books displayed. I placed my old bag on a beautiful, simple oak table, hoping I wouldn’t scratch the finish. As I began to unpack ingredients and equipment, Tor walked over and handed me a piece of paper.

Before I forget, Finn, Tor said, here’s the information you asked for.

I glanced at the paper’s contents, frowned, and asked Tor, Is this accurate?

Yes, we got it this morning.

Tor, his weight is down by ten pounds since I was here a month ago. We stared at each other for a few seconds.

I know, Tor responded solemnly. Looking at his face now, I could see the worry there. I felt bad for missing it earlier. Tor had been with Kasper a long time and was extremely close with the old vampire.

Well, don’t worry about it, I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone. I’m hopeful that the changes I have made to my formula will finally give us the results we’ve been looking for.

Though not the first vampire with this affliction, Kasper Schreiber was the only vampire I knew who currently had it. Kasper’s disease prevents him from consuming any blood that isn’t human, and human blood is illegal for vampires unless it is given willingly. The effect is similar to the effect on humans with celiac disease; the body cannot absorb nutrients present in the blood, leading to malnourishment and eventually death. Since Kasper is the only vampire I know with this disease, I had no way of really knowing if my elixir was improved or not, but I was hopeful. I had been treating Kasper for the last five years and had plenty of data to work from, but alchemy does not follow fixed rules as chemistry does. Today, the process would be complicated because of the way I’d chosen to do it. When I create a new formula, this is done in my own work space, where I’m free to work in any way I please. However, once I have a formula down, I need to convert it so that it can be replicated by Magistracy mixologists who use the established alchemy methods. Since I had enough data to show that the base formula should be correct, I’d be recreating it today using Magistracy methods instead of my own. The difference between the two is how magical energy is applied and the use of emotion.

With my methods, emotion doesn’t really factor into the process though trying to create a potion in an agitated state is never advised. Using older methods, the alchemist must feel their way through, extending their focus to the various ingredients and enhancing, or inhibiting, interactions as they go. Emotions must be carefully controlled to prevent disrupting the process or, at worst, causing a deadly interaction. Emotions tend to influence Celestium, either strengthening or weakening or completely destabilizing it. Due to this, an alchemist could change a harmless sleeping potion into a toxic gas if they were depressed or angry or anxious. As this was a tricky elixir to develop even using my methods, getting to a point where I could translate the formula for mixology is what has taken so many years.

I finished setting up the portable lab burner under the boiling flask and began measuring out ingredients to create an elixir that matched Kasper’s weight. I was almost done when he came into the room. Vampires are generally beautiful, powerful and move with a speed and gracefulness no human could hope to attain. While gracefulness could still be detected in his movements, Kasper moved like an ordinary human man, something I never thought I’d see in a vampire. I first met him while I was still with the Magistracy. At that time, he was handsome, virile, and powerful, nothing like the frail creature he had become. I may be mistaken, but he seemed to have deteriorated even more from when I last saw him.

Lord Schreiber, I’m pleased to see you, I said with a slight bow and a warm smile. I hoped that I was doing a good job of hiding the worry from my face.

Kasper please, Mr. Graye. His voice was still vibrant and strong. You do not owe me fealty. We can afford to be casual with each other.

He offered me his hand, and I was pleased to see his grip was still firm.

You tell me this every time, Lord Schreiber, but somehow, I keep forgetting. This got me a smile and a small laugh. Now if you please, sir, I’ll finish making your elixir. This will not take long. But in the meantime, could you have someone bring a goblet of pig’s blood? No more than 200 ml.

I’ll take care of it, Tor said and left the room.

I turned back to my task. To prevent emotions from affecting the alchemical process, alchemists in the eighteenth century developed special meditation techniques for putting themselves in a completely emotionless state known as the sine dolore. First, I took several deep breaths and cleared my mind so I could enter sine dolore. Once my surroundings had lost color and gone entirely gray, I knew I had achieved it. In this state, all things are possible, and there is no good or bad. That’s why it’s advised to be in this state only as long as necessary. In the late 1800s, an alchemist named Jack experimented with how sine dolore could be used in other activities, such as spending time with a pretty woman. Unfortunately, after a few deaths, the Magistracy knights had to get involved to make the problems, and Jack, disappear.

Having achieved sine dolore, I lit the portable burner and began adding ingredients to the boiling flask. First, I added 500 ml of rainwater captured at midnight. Next was the bloodwort on which I focused my will to chill by a few degrees; I did not want it heating too fast. Next came the Langsdorffia, which is a type of plant that feeds off other plants. I focused my will to enhance that effect, forcing it to absorb the bloodwort, creating a hybrid of both. The main change I’d made this time was to increase the amounts of both the bloodwort and Langsdorffia. Once the bloodwort was absorbed, I could add the remaining ingredients, magically enhancing or inhibiting interactions as needed. Finally, I had to let the mixture boil until the liquid was the color of a nice Bordeaux. My creation would be the only object of color in my otherwise colorless world. The boil had to be done slowly to prevent burning the ingredients, so I had to control it with another effort of will. Once the liquid was complete, I killed the flame on the burner and brought myself out of sine dolore. Once color had again suffused my surroundings, I filled a dropper with the elixir and added two drops to the goblet of pig’s blood.

I picked up the goblet, handed it to Lord Schreiber, and said, I need you to take a sip, sir, and let me know how you feel.

He gave a deep, resigned sigh, closed his eyes, and took a sip, looking like a child being forced to take castor oil. This time, however, when he opened his eyes, his face brightened.

This is very close to human blood.

I smiled. I’m glad you like the taste, sir, but I need to know how it makes you feel. The last time I was here, you got really nauseous later, and I’m hoping to prevent that. Drink a little more if you can.

Kasper took a larger drink, closed his eyes, and stood still for a minute or two, taking an internal inventory of how he felt.

I don’t feel any nausea, I don’t feel a headache coming on, I don’t believe my body’s rejecting it. He sounded pleased and excited. In fact, I feel more sated than I did before my affliction. Pig’s blood has never tasted so fine.

I glanced at Tor and could see the worry drop from his face, replaced with encouragement.

I said, This may be the good news we’ve been hoping for. I will be checking on your progress with Tor for the next few weeks to ensure the elixir is not losing its effect. I also want you to record your weight daily as I’d like to see you put on a few pounds.

The boiling flask was now cool enough to touch, so I poured the contents into a sample jar, filtering out the undissolved solids. Before closing the jar, I poured some of the mixture into a small test tube and sealed it with a cork.

I’m taking 100 ml of the mixture with me and leaving you the rest. I began packing up my equipment while continuing to speak. You should have enough to last thirty days. Simply add 5 ml to a warm pint of pig’s blood twice a day. Please refrain from using it with any other blood for the time being. Once we’re sure that you’re getting the nutrition you need, we can experiment with blood from other types of animals. I’m taking a sample with me because, if all goes well, I may be able to finalize my formula. Once I provide the formula and this blood sample to the Magistracy, the mixologists can take over production.

Kasper came over to me and clasped my hand in both of his.

Finn, I can never repay you for what you’ve done for me. This affliction, this curse, has been with me so long I had almost given up hope. If there’s anything me or my house can do for you, you have only to ask.

I smiled warmly at the old vampire. "It’s been an honor, sir. I hope that the next time I see you, it’s for tea instead of making you drink another—what did you call my first attempt?—vile concoction."

Kasper laughed heartily while I turned to close my valise. Before I could finish, Kasper stopped me.

Finn, I hope it’s not impertinent of me to ask, but you didn’t happen to bring… He let the rest of the question hang in the air.

I almost forgot. I removed the Dewar’s flask filled with my blood from the case and handed it to him. I drew it myself this morning, so it should still be warm.

Thank you, Finn. You’re too good to me. If you’re ready, Tor will show you out now. I feel it would be rude of me to ingest this in front of you.

Have a good day, sir. I bowed and exited the library with Tor in tow. Waiting for me in the foyer was my favorite vampire, looking as friendly as ever.

Hans, please wait in the car, Tor said. Mr. Graye will be out in a minute.

As the driver turned to go, I couldn’t help adding, Yeah, Hans, wait in the car.

Tor tried to hide a small smile. The driver stopped dead in his tracks. I could see his shoulders tighten and could hear his teeth grind together and knuckles pop. After a few seconds, his shoulder’s loosened, and he walked out the door, not quite slamming it shut.

Tor looked at me and shook his head. If you keep provoking him, he’s liable to attack you someday when he thinks he has the advantage.

We’ve fought before. Why do you think he dislikes me so much?

Tor raised his eyebrows. He apparently hadn’t known this.

Before you go, Finn, I’d also like to express my gratitude for all you’ve done for my master. I’m in your debt.

Then he said, with a thoughtful look on his face, You know, I’m curious about something.

What’s that? I asked.

When we originally approached the Magistracy for help with Lord Schreiber’s condition, we were told that they hadn’t developed any new potions or elixir for more than a century. Then a month or two later, you contacted us that you would be doing the research. So why did they suddenly appoint you to a position that had been abandoned for so long?

I shrugged. After what I had gone through at that time, this seemed to be the best solution. I was no longer able to serve as a knight or study magic, so this was the best fit for me.

Well, Tor said with a smile, good news for us then. I’m glad you’re the one they appointed.

Thanks, Tor, I said, shaking his hand. Please keep me updated if anything changes with Lord Schreiber’s condition.

I will, he promised, and I walked out the front door where my driver was waiting to take me back home. As much as I liked Tor, there was just no way I could tell him the real reason I was appointed to be the alchemist.

Chapter 2

The driver decided not to punish me, as the drive back to the apartment was quiet and peaceful. This was very helpful as it allowed me to update my formula and notes on Kasper’s progress. When I was first handed this assignment, the Magistracy made it clear that Kasper’s survival was critical in maintaining the current status quo. In the last few years, there has been increasing unrest in the vampire nation. Ever since the big 1998 reveal, things have been quiet and stable, which can lead to boredom, and boredom is dangerous for a predator.

Another problem is that knowing vampires have fed on human blood, many still view vampires with distaste and distrust. Others, primarily due to more modern vampire portrayals in books and films, are enthralled with the idea of vampires and were eager to offer their blood to them. Sites on the Internet sprung up almost overnight, offering a way for humans to meet with vampires so they could give their blood. Though the practice was shady, it was also perfectly legal. Still, vampires that hadn’t tasted human blood were not prepared for the difference in taste and potency. Often times they lost control, feeding on their fans and passing along their infection. This is a big no-no, and the Magistracy Knights dealt with these rogue vampires and their offspring swiftly and mercilessly. The end result is that many of the younger vampires call for a return to, what they say is, the old ways. As a leader of the largest and most respected vampire House in North America, Kasper wields a lot of influence in the vampire nation. Despite his current affliction, Kasper is a staunch supporter and friend to the Magistracy, so it’s in our best interests to keep him alive. Without his influence, the discontented vampires may have a more powerful voice, and the world could end up in another vampire war.

*****

Vampirism was introduced to our world when a swarm of nasty extra-dimensional creatures emerged from a crack in Eastern Europe and began attacking villagers for their blood. Unlike the vampire folklore we’re most familiar with, there was nothing bat-like about these creatures. According to illustrations in the Magistracy historical records, these abhorrent beasts most closely resembled a cross between a spider and a Madagascan aye-aye. About the size of a large house cat, the whole asymmetrical mess is wrapped in a knobby, leathery, claw-studded hide. As this particular crack was