The following day, Heisenburgle drafted a letter to inform the Prince of their success. He let Lucas read it, and though he didn’t allow him much input into the overweening thing, it did remind him that he should send Danaria something cute ter to let her know that he was thinking of her, and that he missed her.

  “Don’t you think transcendental accomplishment is a little much?” Lucas asked. “I feel like it’s ying on what we did a little thick.”

  Though he didn’t mind the praise or even sharing the credit with Heisenburgle, he felt like downpying things might make him seem less important. To Lucas, that seemed to be the best way to forestall any other attempts on his life. He was especially keen on that part since he hoped to spend a lot more time with Danaria soon, and the very st thing he wanted was for her to be caught in the crossfire.

  The fact of the matter was that he was likely to have a lot more enemies in the near future if he rolled out this version, and that wasn’t even including the elves. One would think that releasing a nonaddictive version of a drug and cleaning the streets of addicts would result in less hostility, but Lucas could think of at least one family that would be eager to settle scores as soon as he let them off the leash.

  “That is only because you do not understand proper alchemy, my boy,” Heisenburgle said, feeling extra chipper. “When one manages to discover one of the fabled Seven Forbidden Potions, what else would you call it but a transcendental accomplishment? We accomplished the impossible. So much so that perhaps the Prince will finally see fit to grant me my fire b so I can create new marvels.”

  “Yeah, yeah, your shiny pony needs fuel. I get it,” Lucas answered dismissively. “But, like, this wasn’t even hard. It’s only barely spring out there. We haven’t even been at this for half a year, and I mean, we haven’t even tested the new stuff, have we?”

  The gnome looked at him like he had three heads for a moment. Oh yeah, I’m not supposed to mention the hyperquadwhatevertor, Lucas reminded himself as he braced for the dressing down about secrecy that was sure to follow. It turned out that he was way off.

  “Haven’t tested it? Haven’t tested it? You think I would send word to the Prince of all people about our success if we hadn’t tested it yet? Are you daft?” the gnome repeated himself in a rising, shrill tone. “What do you think I was doing while you were sick in bed. I used nearly the whole batch on a series of blind tests with our little guinea pigs to compare the efficacy to the older Blue that you made previously. There is no doubt. All prisoners lived, and the reported results were nothing short of spectacur!”

  The gnome went on for another minute about prisoner feedback, along with a number of subtle and not-so-subtle digs at Lucas’s powers of perception. He might have gone for an hour that way, but Lucas eventually got sick of it and said, “You know what, tell him whatever you want. Just as long as I get to go home like asap.”

  “Yes, well, I have told the Prince that you have fulfilled your role in a very satisfactory manner,” the gnome agreed, “And that there is no reason you cannot continue production from your current boratory, so I do not foresee any reason that he would require your continued presence here unless he continues to fear for your safety.”

  “I got my own people at the manor,” Lucas insisted. “No one is going to fuck with me there.”

  “Quite,” the gnome agreed. “And while I have enjoyed your, ahem, unorthodox presence, it would be nice to get back to my own personal projects. My starlight solvent, for instance. I think that—”

  “I could help you with that, you know. I mean, I’ll be going in a day or two, but if you want to put the work in, we could give it a shot.” Lucas volunteered just to annoy the gnome. “I think with a little alteration, the mirrors I made for moonlight would—”

  “That is quite alright,” Heisenburgle interrupted. “In any case, it will likely take days for the Prince to decide on the correct course of action. You are likely to be here for weeks yet.”

  Lucas suppressed the sigh that had tried to come out automatically and instead forced himself to shrug. He’d known that deep down, but he didn’t want to give the gnome the satisfaction.

  “Okay,” Lucas said, “Well, then I’m going to make some moonlight for the next night or two, so I can make plenty of Lwynthenl when I get out of here since you’ll probably want my mirrors for study.”

  He had to suppress a ugh there as Heisenburgle practically chased Lucas out of his office, insisting that if he didn’t take those wretched, awful mirrors, he’d have them broken down for scrap. That is the only part about this pce I’m going to miss when I’m gone, Lucas decided. If he had one joy in life besides Danaria, it was spinning up that self-important alchemist. Well, that and the infinite ingredients. It's nice not to have to go find all of this shit myself.

  Lucas did just what he promised, and inside an hour, he was back on the roof, aiming all of his mirrors and lenses at the focal point. The moon was setting early tonight, so he doubted he’d even activate the half a dozen vials of solute he’d whipped up in the b, but even two would be enough to rub in the gnome’s face.

  That night, Lucas made four, but given that he could now watch the temperature of the exothermic reaction rise, it was a lot easier than it had been st time when he was simply guessing at the color of the light the vial emitted. Even though he made several and pnned to make several more at moonrise tomorrow, he only tried to empower the first one.

  Purity: 9% mana - Purify up to six reagents.

  Luminescence: 4% mana - Double the brightness of this celestial solvent.

  Power: 18% mana - Increase the potency of whatever potion this reagent is used to craft by 20%

  That wasn’t just because it didn’t give him a lot of options, though. It was because he was doing this assembly line style. He appreciated the experience bump from each potion he made, but aside from building a stockpile of this valuable reagent, he really only wanted to make one extra beautiful as a gift for Danaria, and what he got certainly fit the bill.

  When he increased the luminescence of the first one he created, it swelled with light, practically becoming a fshlight compared to the other potions, which were more like glow sticks. It was only when that was done, and he’d put them in a crate that he’d set aside for this purpose, that he went back down to the b and looked up how to make a celestial solvent from starlight.

  Why did he do that? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted to stick it to Heisenburgle. Lucas didn’t need it or anything, but the fact that he had these achievements now made him want to use it. The recipe wasn’t very complicated. It looked expensive since one of the listed ingredients was ground diamonds, but not complicated. Fortunately, for at least as long as he was here in Bckgate, expensive wasn’t his problem.

  Ground Diamonds (fine): Poison -3, intelligence 3, endurance 2, mana regeneration increased by 30% for one hour.

  Since Lucas had nothing better to do, he started whipping up the solvent while the moon set, and then, while he waited for it to cool, he went back to the roof to prepare. The Book he’d read the recipe from made it sound like the light requirements were about double what the lunar solvent was. Rather, it said that they were the same, but they were so dilute that it required more space and a very clear sky. Lucas had the clear sky, but what he needed were more mirrors, so he grabbed a few out of the fourth-floor hallway and angled them off various walls and chimneys until starlight was coming at the focal point of the vial.

  He’d pnned to moderate the biggest source of light with the oculus, as he had in the past, but it turned out that was necessary. The potions drank in the light, and the temperature barely twitched. More was absolutely better.

  It took longer than expected, but two hours ter, he saw the pop-ups that indicated success and quickly tucked the thing away. He’d expected Heisenburgle to check on him at some point, and while it might be fun for a moment to rub this success in the gnome’s face, he was pretty sure the gnome would murder him in his sleep for it.

  You have created a new potion +58 experience.

  You have created Concentrated Starlight.

  You have created another of the four Celestial Solvents!

  It’s probably best not to let an egomaniac know that the thing he’s been trying to make for years you made on the very first try, he told himself as he broke everything down and put all the mirrors back in the hallway where he found them.

  For the next week, life went on like this, in simple, predictable rhythms. Most nights, Lucas would make more moonlight as he slowly filled up his padded crate one row at a time. Some nights, Heisenburgle would be there, and some nights, he wouldn’t. While he would always scoff at Lucas’s ‘irreverent’ methods, he eventually stopped arguing with his results.

  On other nights, Lucas would py ingredient tag in the gnome’s shop as he used his pop-ups to guide him to compatible ingredients and made lists of the most interesting combinations that he could try to experiment on ter when he was home. He paid special attention to those that involved reagents that weren’t likely to cost a fortune, but it was hard to say. While he was sure blue dragon scales were pricey, he had no idea if powdered hydra tongue or ground griffon cws were more expensive.

  Blue Dragon Scale (scrapings): electrically charged reagent. +50% cold resistance to any potion this is added to.

  Hydra Tongue (powdered): poison 8, endurance -4, acid resistance +33% to any potion this is added to.

  Griffon Cws (ground): Strength 5, poison 3, endurance 2, 10% chance of inducing berserk rage in anyone who imbibes a potion containing this ingredient unless it has first been purified.

  Heisenburgle never bothered to ask why one of his vials of concentrated moonlight was dimmer than the rest, and one was brighter, which was good because Lucas had no idea what he’d tell the gnome.

  Still, all of that came to an end when Lucas met Heisenburgle one evening, and the gnome announced that a letter had arrived for him. “From the Prince?” Lucas asked. “I can finally go?”

  “The Prince has sent you a letter too,” he said with a smile, but I was speaking of them one,” he said, handing Lucas a red envelope with decidedly feminine handwriting. “You are free to read them at your leisure, but I will not send a response to either of them without my consultation. Is that understood?”

  Lucas nodded numbly as he looked at the red sealed envelope like the viper it was. He absolutely did not want to open the thing and find out what was inside, but he very much doubted that he had a choice.