Kane motioned for the rest of them to go first, and Zaria didn’t miss the way he slipped a hand into the front of his jacket.
“You’d better not hurt her,” she whispered harshly as she passed him.
Kane’s face was unreadable. “She’d better not give me a reason to.”
The dark shop was familiar, with its tightly packed shelves of myriad vials and other useful products, but Zaria had never gotten accustomed to the pungent scent of soap, herbs, and chemicals. She wrinkled her nose against it now, wondering not for the first time how the Hoffmans could stand to inhale it for hours on end.
The back of the apothecary wasn’t dissimilar to the public-facing front, though it was considerably less organized. A torso-high table occupied part of the space—well, waist-high if one was as tall as Fletcher—and it reminded Zaria painfully of her old worktable in the pawnshop. Rather than alchemological items, however, Louisa had evidently been mixing various tinctures and distributing them into small bottles for purchase. A single candle burned atop the desk, and Louisa lit a second now, illuminating the space more completely before turning back to their group. “Well? What is it that you want to know?”
Kane leaned his elbows on the worktable, giving the impression he was completely at ease. “Primateria sources. What can you tell us about them?”
“I know everybody wants one,” Louisa replied without malice, although she kept shooting furtive glances in the direction of the door. “Listen, I was never trained in alchemology myself, but both my husband and I have family who worked in the soulsteel mines. In the Alps,” she added, in case they didn’t already know. “As a vendor of alchemological supplies, I took it upon myself to learn as much as I could about the study. Otherwise, you can only imagine how easy it would be to get scammed.”
“Wonderful,” Kane said, his impatience thick in the air. “But I asked about primateria sources specifically.”
A divot appeared between Louisa’s brows. “Much of the information surrounding them is highly theoretical, and I suspect youalready know most of it.” She inclined her head at Zaria, then spoke more softly. “Most of my knowledge stems from my previous connection to the Scriniarii, which—”
“The what?” asked Zaria and Kane at the same time.
Louisa blinked her large brown eyes, glancing at the door again. “The Scriniarii was a group of alchemologists here in London. This was years ago, back when I wasn’t much older than you four. They were something of a secret society, I suppose, although it wasn’t much of a secret to anyone involved in the dark market at the time.”
Surprise rippled through Zaria. Alchemologists, she had thought, were notorious for working alone. But a wholegroupof them here, in London? It was difficult to imagine. She wondered if her father had known about the group, and if so, why he hadn’t told her. “What did the Scriniarii do?”
Louisa gave a vague shrug. “I believe they mostly shared ideas and information among themselves, though their overall mission was to make alchemology more available. More… teachable. Of course, this was before the current queen ascended the throne. She took a far-harsher stance on magic than her uncle had.”
Kane’s face was stone. He watched Louisa as though he didn’t trust her one bit. “So the Scriniarii is no longer active?”
“I don’t believe so. If they were, I’d be the last person to know. I used to deal with them quite often—provided them with supplies and the like. I even had a few friends in the group. But when harsher laws came into effect and public perception of alchemology became more negative, the Scriniarii retreated into the shadows. Several of the members wanted me to do the same: to close up shop and deal exclusively with the dark market. As you can imagine, that was when illegal trade truly began to flourish.
“I didn’t want to stop providing to my regular customers,however—particularly those in the slums who benefited from having a chemist nearby. I still sold to alchemologists who worked independently, but the Scriniarii no longer trusted me. The way they saw it, I’d chosen a side. They severed all ties with me as a result.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” said Zaria indignantly.
Louisa offered a tight smile. “In those days, the Scriniarii was very cautious. I suspect they still are, if indeed they still exist.”
“You don’t believe that they do?”
“At this point, I can’t see what their objective would be. They were always focused on making alchemology more widely available to the public. Given the state of things these days, it’s not as though they could continue that work. The risk is too great.”
Kane’s lip curled. “They’d be labeled heretics. Sent to prison, should they be caught.”
“Indeed.”
Zaria worried at her lower lip. That Louisa hadn’t heard from the Scriniarii in years might not mean they ceased to exist entirely. Perhaps they’d taken up a different mission. Maybe their group had evolved into one of companionship and learning, or maybe the name was simply symbolic these days. They might not be the Scriniarii that Louisa once knew, but that didn’t mean they weregone.
Part of her hoped they weren’t gone, anyway.
Fletcher cleared his throat, which Kane took as a prompt, straightening. “This is all very interesting,” he said, “but back to primateria sources. We’re not the first to come here asking about them, are we?”
“No,” Louisa admitted. She swallowed, visibly ill at ease. “You’re not even the first kingpin to do so.”
Zaria’s pulse quickened. Kane had been right, then—Wardhadvisited the Hoffmans.
“And what did that other kingpin want to know?” Kane said.
Louisa let out a long exhale, her cheeks hollowing. “I was asked about a certain necklace. One that was slated to appear on display in the Great Exhibition. Given what happened to it, however, I expect you already know as much.”
Kane’s only response was a reticent smile. From his position by the door, Fletcher muttered, “Maybe we should show her.”
