‘Perhaps he should seek a miracle worker then.’
Barak stepped away as Guy returned, bearing two cups of small beer. I drank gratefully, for I was very thirsty. Guy stood at the end of his table and studied Barak carefully a moment; I was pleased to see Barak look uncomfortable under that penetrating gaze.
‘Well, then,’ Guy said quietly. ‘What help do you both wish from me?’
‘We have to deal with alchemists,’ I said. ‘I know nothing of their trade, and would welcome your advice.’ I opened the satchel and laid the alchemical books on the table. Then I carefully took the bottle from my pocket and held it out. ‘Have you any idea what this strange stuff might be?’
He opened it carefully, then poured some on his finger and sniffed. ‘Be careful, it burns like fire,’ I warned as he bent and touched his tongue to it.
To my surprise, he laughed. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ he said. ‘There’s no mystery here. This is aqua vitae, though distilled to a very high concentration.’
‘Aqua vitae?’ I laughed with astonishment. ‘This new stuff that is distilled from bad wine and prescribed for sore eyes and melancholia?’
‘The same. I think its value overrated, it just makes people drunk.’ He rubbed the stuff between his fingers. ‘A cupful, they say, will blind a horse. Where did you get it?’
‘On the floor of an alchemist’s workshop that had been - abandoned.’ He looked at me sharply.
‘Never mind where we got it, apothecary,’ Barak cut in. ‘Are you sure that’s what it is?’
Guy gave him a long look, and I feared he would order him from his shop, but he turned to me with a smile. ‘I believe so. Though the thickness of the liquid and the fiery taste suggest the concentration is very strong. I believe I may even be able to tell you where it came from. But first, there is a way of proving what it is. I will show you. It is quite spectacular, Master Barak. Wait a moment.’
He put the bottle down carefully, then left the room.
‘Listen to me, Barak,’ I said. ‘Guy is a friend: have a care how you speak to him. And he is not one to be bullied like that doorkeeper. You will only anger him.’
‘I don’t trust him, on his looks.’
‘I think that’s mutual.’
Guy returned, carrying a candle and a small glazed dish. He closed the shutters, then carefully tipped a little of the liquid into the dish. Then he touched the candle to it.
I gasped, and Barak stepped back, as a blue flame flared in the bowl, rising two inches into the air.
‘You’ll burn the shop down!’ Barak exclaimed. Guy only laughed again.
‘The flame is too weak to set anything alight and it will die in a moment.’ Sure enough, as we watched, the blue flame sank as quickly as it had risen, turned yellow, guttered and went out. Guy smiled at us. ‘There. That is a characteristic of aqua vitae, that blue flame. It was certainly a very strong mixture.’ He opened the shutters again. ‘Note there is no smell or smoke.’
‘You said you might know where it came from,’ Barak said, his tone more respectful now.
‘I did. We apothecaries are ever on the lookout for new herbs, new concoctions, from the strange parts of the world Englishmen voyage to nowadays. It is the constant topic at the Apothecaries’ Hall. A few months ago we heard of a cargo that had been landed at Billingsgate from a ship that had ventured into the Baltic trade, to the lands of endless snow. They brought back a cargo of a colourless liquid they say men drink there. When people tried quaffing it here, as they would beer, it made them very sick. This sounds like the stuff.’
‘What happened to the cargo?’
‘That I do not know. I think one or two of my brethren went after it as a curiosity, but were told it had been sold. You would need to enquire among the sailors’ taverns to find more.’
I nodded thoughtfully. A thick, viscous liquid that burned in a strange way. In some ways it sounded like Greek Fire, but in others quite unlike. The liquid in the monastery had been black, with a strong smell, Kytchyn said, and the flame we had just seen could never have set light to a ship. But what if this stuff was part of the formula, what if it changed its behaviour if other things were added?
‘What do you know of alchemy, Guy?’ I asked. I took the alchemy books from my satchel and laid them on the table. ‘These books are so full of mysteries and jargon I can scarce understand a word.’
He picked one up and leafed through it. ‘Alchemy has given itself a bad name. Perhaps worse than it deserves. The alchemists like to keep their trade cloaked in secrecy and fill their books with references only they can understand.’ He laughed. ‘Some of the old books I think nobody understands.’