Read Online The Alchemist by Paolo Bacigalupi - Free Book Online Page B

work table. Cut one for him as well. The scent of honey and rosemary, along with the reek of neem and mint and the burn of coals from my glass fire.
    “It’s a strange world we live in,” I said, waving at my worktable. “All that time spent trying to find magic, and now, suddenly Scacz asks for balanthasts to kill bramble again. Maybe he’ll finally decide to cut away the bramble wall.”
    Jaiska snorted. “Well. In a way.” He took another bite of bread and spoke around the mouthful. “He cuts new lands into the bramble for his and the Mayor’s friends. The people who inform for them. Their favored guards.”
    “Are you going to get new lands?”
    Jaiska shrugged. “I’m just a sword. Keep my head down. Don’t work magic when the hunters are out. Hope my sons all learn their sword swinging right. Don’t need lands. Don’t need honors. Don’t do traffic with the Mayor.”
    I grimaced. “That’s wisdom, there. I, on the other hand, thought I’d be a savior of our land.”
    “Bramble’s mostly stopped.” Jaiska said. “Hardly anyone except Scacz uses magic anymore. Not in any real way. Can’t remember the last time I saw bramble sprouting in the city. We’re saved. In a way.”
    “It isn’t the way I hoped.”
    Jaiska laughed at that. “For being so clever with the devices, you’re a damn silly-headed bastard.”
    “Pila said something similar to me, once.”
    “Because it’s true, alchemist.”
    At the new voice, Jaiska leaped to his feet. “No offense, sir.”
    Scacz swept into view. “Go find something to do, guardsman.”
    “Grace.” Jaiska touched his brow and fled.
    Scacz sat down on the stool that Jaiska had vacated. His gaze came to rest on Pila’s gift. “I’d ask you for some of that lovely bread, but I’m afraid you’d put bramble threads in it.”
    I shook my head. “Bramble threads would be too good for a creature like you.”
    “Ah. Yes. A creature. Indeed.” He smiled. “A powerful creature, actually. Thanks to you. The most powerful majister in the land, now. The Majisters of Alacan all have their heads fitted to spikes.” He sighed. “It really is an addiction. The feel of power flowing through… no one understands that. Siren song for those of us who have the knack. But then, you already knew that.”
    “I don’t miss it,” I said.
    Scacz snorted. “Maybe. But the lure is certainly there. For many. For most. We could never allow the people to believe that your balanthast was actually a solution. False comfort there. As soon as they sipped a little magic from the pool, they would have demanded to drink deep. And then,” he made a motion with his hands, “willy-nilly everyone would have been spelling here and there, charming and spelling and making flying carpets, and we’d all have a lovely time. Until the bramble overwhelmed us.”
    “It wouldn’t have,” I said. “We’re not stupid.”
    Scacz laughed. “It’s not as if the people of Jhandpara—of all the old empire—were unaware of magic’s unfortunate effects. From the historical manuscripts, they tried mightily to hold back their base urges. But still they thirsted for magic. For the power, some. For the thrill. For the convenience. For the salvation. For the wonderful luxury.”
    He made a motion, and a castle appeared above his hand, glowing. It floated in clouds, with dragons of every color circling it.
    “How could anyone give this up?” he asked. “The people of Jhandpara had no discipline. Even the ones who wished to control themselves lacked the necessary will. And so our Empire fell.”
    In Scacz’s hand, the castle tumbled from its clouds, crashing into deep bramble forests below. Bramble spread over arched palaces, over coliseums, over temples to the Three Faces of Mara, growing tall and terrible. Dust and rubble clouds obscured the scene as more cloud castles fell.
    Scacz brushed his hands together, obliterating the scene and knocking off a rain of dust that landed on his