Read Online The Waters of Eternity by Howard Andrew Jones - Free Book Online

said something curious.
    “Is there not a treatise by Khalid,” he asked, “that discusses the eyeballs of goats?”
    Jamilah blinked in surprise. “Indeed there is. Is that why you have come?”
    “It is.”
    “I thought you had no interest in alchemy.”
    “I am interested in it, but I do not study it. Do you have this book?”
    “I do. I shall retrieve it for you.”
    She left quickly, the scarlet alcove curtains swaying after her passage.
    I waited only a moment before turning to Dabir. “You have never mentioned this woman, and you seem most…familiar.”
    “She is a friend,” Dabir replied, “from my youth.”
    His tone did not invite further discussion, but I was not about to let him dismiss the subject so simply. “A friend?”
    His eyes narrowed. “I was barely thirteen when I studied here,” he said. “She and I did talk, but…”
    “Oh?” I prompted.
    Dabir replied to this only with a stare, which amused me, but I did not think quickly enough how to pry further before Jamilah returned with a slim book and passed it to him. She sat down opposite us as he began to read.
    “What is this regarding?” she asked.
    Dabir thumbed carefully through the pages. “The goats’ eyeballs were to be prepared for an elixir of life, were they not?”
    “Your memory is as sharp as ever, Dabir. That is true.”
    “And was there not some discussion of using the eyes of men?”
    “There may have been—why do you ask these things?”
    He glanced up. “Because I believe some reader of Khalid, or of his sources, has taken this message to heart, for at least two men have turned up dead and eyeless in the passing weeks.”
    Jamilah laughed shortly. “You jest! No, I see you do not. Much of those writings are but chaff, as any wise one knows.”
    “Didn’t your father test the experiment with the goats’ eyes, in later years?”
    Her mouth twisted in an unpleasant fashion. “And it yielded nothing, as I told him. Do you mean to insult my father again?”
    Dabir glanced up. “I mean only to point out to you that even the wise are deceived when someone they revere mixes clever words with foolish ones into a single paste. In a book, such words somehow bear more water than they do when spoken aloud.” He must have found the passage for which he searched, for he fell silent and stared at a page. Jamilah watched him, hawklike.
    He set down the scroll. “There are many fools, Jamilah, and some of them are alchemists. Surely you know some?”
    “You look for suspects.”
    “I do.”
    She pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “Alchemists as a whole seem more inclined to madness. There is Ferran, though. He dwells near the Western gate. He is…stranger than most. If you wish to speak with him, be careful.”
    “How is he strange, Jamilah?” Dabir asked.
    “It is said he looks for forbidden knowledge. He is secretive and dangerous.”
    That described most scholars and miracle workers whom we encountered, but I held my tongue.
    “Twice he has been investigated by the city guard because of rumors that he was found haunting the burial yard,” Jamilah explained further, “and it is said that he acted most suspicious, but that nothing incriminating could be found.”
    That certainly sounded suspicious to me, and I traded a glance with Dabir. The fellow might have gone from the troubling practice of harvesting from dead men to creating his own.
    “I thank you,” Dabir said formally to Jamilah, bowing his head. “I thank you likewise for allowing me to peruse this book, and for your fine hospitality. Asim and I must now depart.”
    “So soon?”
    “We must speak with this Ferran while the day is young.”
    She rose to her feet. “You are always welcome in my home, Dabir. As is your fine mind. You would take pleasure in many of my experiments.”
    “I thank you. Perhaps I will return.”
    I swatted at a beggar who dared our heels as we left the home. “Did you learn what you wished from the book?”
    “I