Read Online Alchemy and Meggy Swann by Karen Cushman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Cushman
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Girls & Women
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Wormwood, that penny-pinching nipcheese, and remind him there be other apothecaries in London."
"Methinks they all prefer pence to promises," Meggy said, putting down the bellows and picking up her walking sticks.
Outside she took a deep breath. Although the late-summer days were still warm, autumn was nigh. Her village would be scented with wood fires and ripening apples. Would there be such pleasant smells here, or just the stench of the city gutters? she wondered as she watched young ravens picking at rib bones in a gutter. She sang softly:
There were three ravens sat on a tree, Downe a downe, hay downe hay downe, They were as black as they might be, With a downe derrie der—
Ye toads and vipers. She had forgotten the coins.
She wabbled back down the lane and into the house, and made her slow and painful way up the stairs. Breathless, she stopped before the door.
There were voices in the laboratorium. Master Peevish had visitors. He never had visitors. Then she recalled the shadowy figures creeping in and out of the house while she tried to sleep.
She did not think he would welcome an interruption. Mayhap if she opened the door a crack and leaned in to reach the coins in the pot...
"I have given you my word," Master Ambrose was saying. "I have naught left of any value but my work and my word." Meggy marked that he did not add "and my daughter."
She opened the door a bit wider and stretched her arm longer, almost, almost to the pot. Peering through the crack, she beheld a man with a wild mop of orange hair pacing about the little room. "The baron be ever more powerful each day," the man said. "Should he be named to the privy council, 'twill mean an end to us. This matter must be dispatched with all haste."
Someone else, someone she could not see, said, "I must taste every dish he partakes of, and I have no wish to depart this earth before my time. Good sir, can you assure my life?"
"I have no small reputation, sirrah," said the alchemist. "Be not afeared. Your tolerance to the substance will grow from doses in wine each day, and when the fatal dose be added to his food, you will merely sicken. Many times I have done this, and I do know what I am about."
Fatal dose? Master Peevish pursued something fatal ... did that not mean deadly? And he had done it afore? Oh ye toads and vipers. Was this the abracadabra Master Old Cloaks had meant? Would she see the alchemist in the Tower? Or worse, would the hair of his severed head blow in the breeze on London Bridge? She shivered, and one of her sticks clattered to the floor.
The ginger-haired man hurried to the door, grabbed Meggy's arm, and pulled her through, pinning her stick down with his foot. He had small, piggish eyes in an ill-humored face. There seemed a dark, wet smell about him that affrighted her. "Who or what is this?" he hissed.
"No one of account," Master Ambrose said. And to Meggy he added, "Err, mistress, err, begone."
Meggy was indeed eager to be gone, but the other man, fat paunched and pale, said, "She cannot go. She has heard us."
The pig-eyed man sneered and pushed Meggy away. "She be naught but an accursed cripple. I do wager her wits are as misshapen as her limbs."
"Aye," the alchemist said, coming to her side. He picked up her fallen stick and handed it to her. "That is the way of her. She be but a moonling, hearing little and understanding less. Go," he said loudly. And then he whispered, "Make haste. Away!"
Meggy went. She went as swiftly as a person with misshapen limbs and wits could go. And her heart pounded as she hurried from the house.
TEN
The antimony forgotten, Meggy waited until the men, and then her father, had left the house before she returned. The girl pondered through a restless night. The alchemist had rescued her from those villains, but what was he doing with them at all?
In the morning she climbed again to the laboratorium. "Sir," she said, "about what I heard—"
"You heard naught, mistress," the alchemist
"Methinks they all prefer pence to promises," Meggy said, putting down the bellows and picking up her walking sticks.
Outside she took a deep breath. Although the late-summer days were still warm, autumn was nigh. Her village would be scented with wood fires and ripening apples. Would there be such pleasant smells here, or just the stench of the city gutters? she wondered as she watched young ravens picking at rib bones in a gutter. She sang softly:
There were three ravens sat on a tree, Downe a downe, hay downe hay downe, They were as black as they might be, With a downe derrie der—
Ye toads and vipers. She had forgotten the coins.
She wabbled back down the lane and into the house, and made her slow and painful way up the stairs. Breathless, she stopped before the door.
There were voices in the laboratorium. Master Peevish had visitors. He never had visitors. Then she recalled the shadowy figures creeping in and out of the house while she tried to sleep.
She did not think he would welcome an interruption. Mayhap if she opened the door a crack and leaned in to reach the coins in the pot...
"I have given you my word," Master Ambrose was saying. "I have naught left of any value but my work and my word." Meggy marked that he did not add "and my daughter."
She opened the door a bit wider and stretched her arm longer, almost, almost to the pot. Peering through the crack, she beheld a man with a wild mop of orange hair pacing about the little room. "The baron be ever more powerful each day," the man said. "Should he be named to the privy council, 'twill mean an end to us. This matter must be dispatched with all haste."
Someone else, someone she could not see, said, "I must taste every dish he partakes of, and I have no wish to depart this earth before my time. Good sir, can you assure my life?"
"I have no small reputation, sirrah," said the alchemist. "Be not afeared. Your tolerance to the substance will grow from doses in wine each day, and when the fatal dose be added to his food, you will merely sicken. Many times I have done this, and I do know what I am about."
Fatal dose? Master Peevish pursued something fatal ... did that not mean deadly? And he had done it afore? Oh ye toads and vipers. Was this the abracadabra Master Old Cloaks had meant? Would she see the alchemist in the Tower? Or worse, would the hair of his severed head blow in the breeze on London Bridge? She shivered, and one of her sticks clattered to the floor.
The ginger-haired man hurried to the door, grabbed Meggy's arm, and pulled her through, pinning her stick down with his foot. He had small, piggish eyes in an ill-humored face. There seemed a dark, wet smell about him that affrighted her. "Who or what is this?" he hissed.
"No one of account," Master Ambrose said. And to Meggy he added, "Err, mistress, err, begone."
Meggy was indeed eager to be gone, but the other man, fat paunched and pale, said, "She cannot go. She has heard us."
The pig-eyed man sneered and pushed Meggy away. "She be naught but an accursed cripple. I do wager her wits are as misshapen as her limbs."
"Aye," the alchemist said, coming to her side. He picked up her fallen stick and handed it to her. "That is the way of her. She be but a moonling, hearing little and understanding less. Go," he said loudly. And then he whispered, "Make haste. Away!"
Meggy went. She went as swiftly as a person with misshapen limbs and wits could go. And her heart pounded as she hurried from the house.
TEN
The antimony forgotten, Meggy waited until the men, and then her father, had left the house before she returned. The girl pondered through a restless night. The alchemist had rescued her from those villains, but what was he doing with them at all?
In the morning she climbed again to the laboratorium. "Sir," she said, "about what I heard—"
"You heard naught, mistress," the alchemist
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