Sarah Ash’s acclaimed trilogy, the Tears of Artamon, was a stunning blend of sorcery and intrigue, politics and breathtaking imagery. Now this gifted storyteller returns with a tale of a siege between kingdoms, and a battle between heretics and believers—each with their own truths, their own lies, and their own soul-shattering discoveries waiting to be made.
Book One of the Alchymist’s Legacy
The kingdom of Francia has purged its magi. But when a young Guerrier rescues an orphaned street waif, little does he know that she is the daughter of a magus who met his end on their pyres—or that she is guarded by an aethyric spirit and driven by the name of the traitor who condemned her father to flames. With the gift of song infused within her, the child’s voice will bring her before the most powerful heads of state. And she will craft herself into a weapon...aimed at the heart of the man she despises.
From the alchymist’s apprentice whose discovery leads him into a dark partnership to a girl who will become the toast of three nations, a new magic will grant powers and ignite dangers beyond all reckoning.
A timeless tale of adventure, battle, and beauty, this dazzling story spans the realms of the human and the immortal, the schemes of the power hungry, the dreams of lovers, and the resurrection of the fallen in one magnificent epic fantasy.
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
Sarah Ash is the author of six fantasy novels: Children of the Serpent Gate, Lord of Snow and Shadows, Prisoner of the Iron Tower, Moths to a Flame, Songspinners, and The Lost Child. She also runs the library in a local primary school. Ash has two grown sons and lives in Beckenham, Kent, with her husband and their mad cat, Molly.
Chapter One
The Aethyr Vox stood on Magister Linnaius's desk, collecting dust. It had stood there for many weeks, awaiting its inventor's return. And Rieuk Mordiern, Linnaius's apprentice, had been assigned to cleaning duties again. With a feather duster, he began to clean the delicate mechanism.
"Apprentice alchymist? Unpaid servant, more like," he muttered to the empty laboratory.
In his master's absence, Rieuk had been kept busy assisting Magister de Maunoir, but he was still charged with keeping Linnaius's laboratory spotless, in readiness for his return.
The Aethyr Vox had been developed by two alchymists, Linnaius and Hervé de Maunoir. The device was designed to convey the voice through the aethyr by setting up resonances, using crystals that had been alchymically charged. A second Vox had been installed in Magister de Maunoir's cottage beyond the college walls, and the two magisters had spent many long hours trying to communicate with each other. But to their frustration, it still did not work.
Next to the Vox stood a tray glittering with quartz crystals of varying shapes and types; each one had already been tested in the Vox as a conductor and discarded. Rieuk set down the duster and lifted one, balancing it in the palm of his hand.
He could sense a faint resonance emanating from the heart of the crystal. This natural connection between his flesh and blood and the rock was intoxicating. It was as if he were listening to the heartbeat of the earth itself. He had begun of late to realize that the other students did not share this ability. If he closed his eyes and let his mind become fully attuned to the pulse, he could sometimes glimpse the aethyr stream: a fast-flowing current moving between worlds and dimensions.
The crystal vibrations flowed through Rieuk's body. This one sang like a high, reedy flute, emitting little pulses of citrine light. Entranced by the purity of its cleansing tone, he stood there, his tasks forgotten, listening intently.
The door burst open. Startled, Rieuk almost dropped the crystal. But it was only Deniel, Magister de Rhuys's apprentice.
"Magister Gonery needs you. It's urgent."
Rieuk slipped the crystal into his jacket pocket for safekeeping. "What's so urgent it can't wait till I've done my chores?" he asked as he followed Deniel out into the corridor.
"Important visitors from the capital. Asking for your master. Hurry!"
The Vox. It must be about the Vox.
Rieuk ran all the way from Magister Linnaius's tower to the principal's study, almost sliding down the spiral stair. He arrived out of breath.
"Ah, here is Rieuk Mordiern, Magister Linnaius's apprentice," said Magister Gonery, beckoning him inside. "Close the door, Rieuk. We don't want to be interrupted."
Two strangers turned to stare at him. Both wore long and travel-stained coats, yet there was something about their haughty bearing that spoke of power and influence. These must be the government officials, come to check on the invention that they had funded. One had a grizzled, neatly trimmed beard; the other, smooth-shaven, hovered behind, holding a dispatch case.
"Well?" asked the elder of the two, seating himself opposite Magister Gonery. "Is the device ready?"
Rieuk shot an anguished look at the old alchymist.
"There have been a few . . . minor problems," said Gonery in level tones.
"Unfortunate for my masters . . . but rather more unfortunate for you and the college." The government official's voice was smooth and pleasantly modulated but Rieuk heard an unmistakable hint of warning and shivered. "Magister Linnaius made us a promise. He assured us that the Vox would be finished by early summer. And now, when Francia has its greatest need, you tell me that he's encountered a 'few problems'?"
"Where is he?" demanded the other. "Why is he not here, as we arranged? Does he intend to insult us by sending a mere apprentice in his stead? Or is he too ashamed to show his face?"
A mere apprentice. That stung.
"Rieuk, tell our visitors where your master has gone."
Rieuk felt as if a hand had tightened around his vocal cords. "My-my master has gone overseas to find a special kind of crystal for the Vox."
The elder of the two let out an impatient sigh. "This is unacceptable. The Ministry has paid the college a considerable sum of money to finance this project."
"Exactly when was your master planning on returning?" said the other, rounding on Rieuk. Rieuk took a step back.
"If the Admiralty could just grant us another week or so . . ." put in Magister Gonery. Rieuk had never heard Magister Gonery speak so deferentially before.
"In my opinion, too much is riding on the success of Magister Linnaius's invention," said the elder official to his colleague. He leaned on Magister Gonery's desk, confronting the old alchymist. "Have you any idea what's happening outside the peaceful confines of your little college, Magister?"
Gonery shook his head.
"Francia is under threat. War with Tielen is almost inevitable. We need the Vox now."
War? Rieuk's eyes widened at the thought. Were the Tielens about to launch an invasion?
"Heaven knows, it's been hard enough trying to keep the Inquisition away from your doors. And now there's a new Inquisitor, who is more than eager to prove himself to the king."
"A new Inquisitor?" Magister Gonery repeated slowly, as though digesting this information.
"Alois Visant. And he has his eye on this college. It seems that there have been complaints in the town. Accusations. At the first whisper of forbidden practices, he will shut you down and put you all on trial."
"We have nothing to hide," said Gonery mildly.
This news only increased Rieuk's apprehension; if the Admiralty officials went away empty-handed, they would withdraw their protection and the college would be in danger from the religious fanatics running the Inquisition. They were suspicious of alchymy, regarding it as little different from the forbidden Dark Arts.
"We're busy men, Magister. We can't waste any more time here," said the elder.
"If you were to return tomorrow, gentlemen, I'm sure that -"
"We're on our way to the naval dockyards at Fenez-Tyr. If there's a breakthrough, send word to us there, at the manager's house." The younger official placed a paper on Gonery's desk and snapped his case shut.
"If we hear nothing from you by the end of the week, then your funding will be stopped and the project canceled." The elder official stopped at the door, then turned back as if a thought had just occurred to him. "And if that happens, we can no longer protect you from investigation by the Inquisition."
Magister Gonery nodded.
"We'll show ourselves out. Good-day to you, Magister Gonery."
When the visitors had gone, Magister Gonery sank back down into his chair. Rieuk glanced at the elderly alchymist, uncertain what to do. The official's ominous last words kept repeating in his head. An Inquisition investigation.
"This is serious, isn't it, Magister?"
"What?" Gonery looked up, blinking, as if he had forgotten Rieuk was there. "Events have overtaken us, Rieuk. It seems that the Tielens have taken our ministers by surprise."
"But if we could make the Vox work, it would save the college from closure." Rieuk's hand slid into his pocket where the citrine crystal lay and felt a little tingle of energy tickle his fingertips. "Magister, let me try. You know I have some skill with crystals. If it's to save the college-"
"And has Magister Linnaius given you permission to work on his invention?"
Rieuk hesitated. "Well, not exactly . . ."
"If I were you, I would not attempt anything that would make Magister Linnaius angry," said Gonery, regarding him severely over the top of his spectacles.
"So what was all that about?" Deniel met Rieuk as he approached the laboratory. "Oh, come on, you can tell me. I won't blab. Was it about the Vox?"
Rieuk recovered enough to nod.
"Can't you ask to be transferred to Maistre de Rhuys? He's much more easygoing."
"But he already has you and Madoc."
"And we split the work between us. Which leaves time for fun." Deniel reached out and tousled Rieuk's hair. "When was the last time you came out into Karantec with us?"
Rieuk gave a little shrug.
"Madoc and I are off to the tavern after dinner. There's a new girl working there, Jenovefa." Deniel outlined a voluptuous silhouette with both hands.
"I've got to work."
"Poor Rieuk. Nearly eighteen and never been kissed. I'm getting worried about you."Rieuk winced and ducked out of Deniel's range. "Always studying. There's more to life than alchymy."
But Rieuk had sensed a breath of winter's wind shiver along the passageway. Deniel must have felt it too because he turned instinctively, just as Magister Linnaius appeared behind him.
"M-Magister!" stammered Rieuk. "You've just missed the Admiralty officials."
"Unfortunate." Linnaius loomed over Rieuk, his eyes burning cold as ice. "Where is Magister de Maunoir?"
"I-I heard that his wife was sick," offered Deniel. "He's looking after little Klervie."
Magister Linnaius let out a short sigh of exasperation. "I have urgent news for Maistre Gonery. Rieuk, take this down to Magister de Maunoir." He thrust a small wooden box into Rieuk's hands.
"N-now?" It was nearly s...
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