“He has a valid point,” I said, doing my best to ignore the gossip.
“Only because the research board rejected my proposal to pursue my project in an official capacity, as my Mastery-year research. This is the kind of thing that could bring in a significant profit for the Panacea Project.” Wilder’s eyes lit up, his voice taking on a new intensity. “What I’m doinghelpspeople.”
I arched one brow at him. “Like Professor Robards?”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s the look the research board gave me. Yes, like Professor Robards, though I certainly didn’t mention any of my clients in my proposal.”
“Do you really think enabling him to cheat on his wife is helping him?”
Wilder frowned. “Ihavehelped him. And it’s not my place to pass judgment on his decisions. I am not privy to the way his marriage functions.” He cleared his throat pointedly. “I’ve also helped myself—and you—focus and stay awake. And I’ve helped myself set aside the anxiety keeping me from becoming a real part of the community here.”
That he had. Everyone knew and loved Wilder.
“All of that adds up to a worthy contribution to the Panacea Project,” he declared in a fierce whisper. “Iambringing the human mind and body closer to perfection.”
“But they didn’t see it that way.”
He scowled. “They called my elixirs a gimmick. They accused me of ‘playing at alchemy’ in a way that is scandalous and beneath the dignity of this institution. And they strongly encouraged me to realign my vision and to direct my innate talent toward a ‘more respectable’ branch of Panacea.”
“Which would be what?”
Wilder shrugged. “As of this moment, my research is officially ‘undeclared.’ ”
“Well, that is a travesty,” I assured him with a grin. “But not surprising, given how devastatingly brilliant and underappreciated you are.”
Yet I could not help noticing that despite considering Wilder’s research scandalous and beneath the dignity of the Alchemary, Desmond hadn’t tried to gethimremoved from campus.
That afternoon, as I crept silently up the Conservatory’s grand spiral staircase, I couldn’t help but stare at the bright images painted on the curved walls from sunlight shining through the stained glass tableaux overhead. I had no time to linger, but the images weresostriking, and the queen’s death scene in particular was astoundingly clear and detailed, despite being stretched by the angle of the sun.
Most of the staff researchers took Sunday off, but the infirmary on the first floor never closed, and it was entirely likely that Desmond worked every day of the week. But hehadoffered to let me use his lab. Obviously he intended for me to use the space for schoolwork and to prepare for the Black Trial, and I would have to claim that’s why I’d come, if he was working. But I held out hope, as I snuck down the second-floor hallway, that he had taken the afternoon off.
I needed privacy, in order to work on the secret bone plaque formula.
I could never reveal my discovery—and my defacing of the Conservatory plaques—to Desmond, but my instinct to hide it from Wilder had taken me by surprise. As if Past Amber wasn’t sure I should trust him.
Wilder and I had parted ways after breaking our fast, and I’d spent half the day poring over Past Amber’s notes. I discovered only one formula that contained all of the components I’d found symbols for. I had no idea what the formula was for, or what it would do. Unlike the rest of my notes, that particular sheet of parchment had no heading declaring its subject, and it was undated. If it weren’t in the same handwriting as the rest—myhandwriting—I’d likely have assumed it was someone else’s work.
The fact that it was clearly mine, despite lacking my usual annotation, only amplified my curiosity.
Thanks to the shattered stained glass window, I could be kicked out of the Alchemary at any moment. My dreams could already be over, along with any chance of recovering my memory. For all I knew, this little project was the academic version of a chicken flapping uselessly around the farmyard, not yet aware that it had already lost its head.
But if so, I would flap away at alchemy until they plucked my plumage and dragged me bodily through the gate, across the bridge, and off the island.
I hesitated at the door to Desmond’s suite, my heart racing. Then I let myself into the foyer. The door to the lab stood ajar. The space looked empty, but there was every chance he was in the office, going over notes.
“Hello?” I called, stepping partway into the lab. “Desmond? Are you in here? Is it okay if I…?”
The door to his office also stood open, but a glance inside told me the small, neat room was empty.
I exhaled, buoyed by relief even as I made a conscious effort to ignore an undercurrent of deep suspicion.
As far as I knew, Desmond Gregory had no hobbies, other than training with soldiers. What on earth could he be doing on a Sunday afternoon?
Whatever was occupying him likely wouldn’t take long. That knowledge spurred me into action, and I set my satchel on the nearest lab table.
The necessary components and supplies were pretty basic. At least, I assumed they must be, since I knew what they all were. It was the specificcombinationof components that felt unusual, based on what I had thus far relearned of alchemy, andthat, in addition to the fact that the component symbols had been literally written on the Conservatory walls, hastened me as I gathered the required equipment.
The supply closet was impeccably well organized, and I was careful to take no more than I needed, hoping such small portions would go entirely unnoticed. The only one I was unsure of was Desmond’s supply of beyn.
