by Gigi Pandian
“Attacked,” Perenelle repeated.
“Perhaps the word ‘attack’ is a bit strong. But a huge vulture circled overhead. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before outside of Prague Castle centuries ago. I fell, and lost the pendant.”
The sound of police sirens sounded in the distance.
“That sound,” Perenelle said. “I know it from the moving paintings. Police?”
“They won’t see us right away,” I said, “but they will eventually.”
“It’s time, Edward,” Perenelle said.
“Time for what?” Ward asked, shrinking back. “You promised—”
“Then keep talking,” I said. “Quickly. I need to know, why did you suspect I was an alchemist?”
“Archer put that damned painting of Nicolas in the window of the gallery, again trying to mess with me. Your interest in the painting made me wonder if you could be a real alchemist who had known Nicolas. How would you know otherwise what he looked like? Rare for a woman, but not impossible, as Perenelle proves. So I ordered some items from your store, assuming they would be modern reproductions. They weren’t. I suspected you were an alchemist, but I still didn’t know what you were up to. I wanted to test you, to see if you’d lost your humanity as so many do. So I paid a visit to your friend who paints alchemical artwork.”
“Heather.”
“I didn’t try to kill her. I was only trying to figure out who on earth you were. You see, I haven’t killed anyone, ever. Led people astray, perhaps … but—”
“We saw Neo’s body,” I said. It was a long shot, but one I thought was right. That lumpy rug near the easel, in the room where Detective Vega and I had been found … I’d been focused on saving her life at the time, but when I thought of the shape of the lumps the rug had been rolled around, I hoped I was wrong, but I didn’t think I was.
Ward’s eyes flashed with anger.
The sirens grew louder. And there were more of them. They must have discovered the body while searching the warehouse. I was right. Ward had killed another one of his art forgers.
“If you lie one more time,” Perenelle said, “it will be the last thing you ever do in this world.”
“Neo knew too much,” Ward snarled. “He wanted to cut a deal and save himself. It was his own fault. I’m not a bad man. Don’t let her kill me.”
“I’m not going to kill you, Edward,” Perenelle said. “I’m going to save you one more time. Safe, but in a place where you’ll never hurt anyone again.”
Her auburn hair bellowing in the wind, Perenelle lifted a familiar canvas out of the satchel, followed by alchemical ingredients I recognized from my basement lab and a paintbrush from a hidden pocket of her dress.
With quick, assured strokes, she painted Ward into the painting in which she and Nicolas had lived for centuries.
sixty
The following day, I opened the front door of my house to someone I wasn’t sure was going to forgive me.
Max hesitated after stepping inside, but I took his hand in mine, smelling the scent of jasmine that lingered on his fingertips, and pulled him through the swinging kitchen door.
The kitchen was officially packed to capacity. Tobias and Brixton leaned against the counter, laughing with Nicolas and Perenelle. I’d had a chance to buy the Flamels proper clothing. Perenelle couldn’t stop grinning at the soft fabric of her purple maxi dress, and Nicolas was as giddy as a young boy at the multitude of helpful pockets in a jacket designed for camping.
“Yo Max,” Brixton said, giving him a fist bump.
“Nicolas and Perenelle,” I said, “there’s someone special I want you to meet. Perenelle sort of met him already when her injuries were being treated … ”
“It’s wonderful to meet you properly,” Max said, shaking their hands.
“The pleasure is all ours, my good man,” Nicolas said. Even modern hair-care products couldn’t tame his unkempt hair.
“You’ve all gotta try these cookies,” Brixton said. “They don’t taste at all like they’re full of vegetables.”
“This is your French friend?” Max whispered to me, watching as Nicolas and Perenelle accepted carrot cake cookies fresh from the oven. “He’s short, but hardly disfigured.”
“This kitchen isn’t big enough for a party,” Tobias said. “I’ll bring these to the dining table.”
Max held me back from following. “And why does he insist on hiding behind you as the chef of Blue Sky Teas? And going so far as to insist on treating his life-threatening injury at Mina’s clinic? What were you thinking? Is it an immigration issue?”
“This isn’t the French chef,” I said, laughing as I remembered how little Nicolas cared for food. Perenelle, on the other hand, was a connoisseur.
“He’s not?”
“You remember when you spoke on the phone to another French friend of mine?”
Tobias poked his head back into the kitchen, holding out his cell phone for me. He handed it to me with a wink. “Dorian is on the line. He wants to talk to Max.”
I covered my grin as Max took the phone. Tobias must have gotten Dorian to call from my land line in the attic.
“Dorian?” Max said. “Yes, I’m with Zoe now. Uh-huh … Yes, she already confided in me that she’s not the chef for Blue Sky Teas … I really think you’re underestimating people if you think they’ll judge you for your appearance. This is Portland … Yes, of course I’ll respect your wishes … Zoe, he wants to talk to you.”
I took the phone.
“How long is le flic staying?” Dorian asked. “I wish to join the party.”
“I’m not sure,” I said, looking hesitantly at Max. “We’ll save you some food.”
“Since I cooked it,” he huffed.
“I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up before he could say more.
Max and I were alone in the kitchen. The voices of laughter and glasses clinking from the other room made my heart swell. Was it too much to hope that I could have Max in my life as well?
“So … ” Max said.
“So … ”
“I’ve gotta hand it to you.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and smiled nervously. “You’ve got the most interesting friends, Zoe Faust.”
“Family,” I corrected. “Though they’re not blood, they’re family.”
He nodded. “I talked to my sister this morning.”
“Oh?”
“She wanted to talk about the things our grandmother had shown us when we were kids.”
“Did you let her?”
“I did. I’m not saying I understand … but I want to. I really do. For you.”
Max wasn’t ready to believe. Not fully. But now that I had Mina on my side, I had hope. And Max had taken the first step. He was here with me and my eccentric family. I pulled him toward me and kissed him.
“Get a room, you guys.”
We broke apart and saw Brixton smiling in the doorway.
“I’m just here to get more blackberry compote,” he said. “Your step-mom has a wicked appetite.” He grabbed a mason jar from the fridge and went back to the others. Max and I followed.
Perenelle patted the empty seat next to her. “Join us,” she said to Max.
I stood watching the group for a few moments before joining them myself, wondering how the past had brought me to this moment.
I’d been at the police station earlier that day, explaining what had happened with Ward Talbot. Detective Vega was concerned that he’d gotten away but glad to have closure on what had happened, and validated by her coworkers that she was right about a copycat killer. She assured me the police wouldn’t be digging into Tobias’s past. He’d taken such good care of her after she’d been attacked by Ward, which I suspected was part of the reason.
Cleo had admitted to painting copies of Old Masters found at the Castle’
s hidden studio, but she insisted she hadn’t broken the law. It’s not a crime to just paint copies or to keep your art studio a secret. She hadn’t defrauded anyone.
Isabella was recuperating from ergot poisoning in the hospital, and the press revealed that she was half of the genius behind Logan Magnus’s art. She and her daughter would now be working jointly on art projects with their complementary skills.
The following week was a blur that bound my past to the present.
I participated in the Autumn Equinox Fair, at which I sold tinctures and Heather sold her paintings. Isabella redesigned the memorial art gallery (which was now renamed for both Isabella and Logan) so that it could also display other artists’ works—and offered Heather the first guest artist showing.
At home, I had a full house. Dorian was living in the attic and I’d given Nicolas and Perenelle my master bedroom. I’d taken the smallest bedroom, in which hung a framed reproduction of the portrait Perenelle had painted of me and my brother. Tobias was staying in the other extra bedroom for the time being, so that Nicolas would have a doctor at hand. I was glad it gave him purpose in the aftermath of Rosa’s death.
Dorian was so pleased that he had more people to cook real meals for (not simply pastries at the teashop) that he didn’t complain too much about wearing the sling Tobias had fixed for his broken wing, and he seemed to have forgotten about tracking down the now-harmless backward alchemy book that had caused us so much trouble earlier in the year.
We lingered over meals together, but tried not to stay up too late because Nicolas needed his rest. Perenelle and I went on many long walks together, and she loved visiting local art galleries. Inspired by Isabella and Cleo, I had an idea.
“You deserve the recognition for Hayden’s art,” I said to Perenelle one morning, as we sat in the living room drinking tea and watching the shadows of Isabella’s iron crows dance across the floor.
Perenelle smiled and shook her head. “Even if we could convince people Philippe Hayden was a woman, I painted the art hundreds of years ago.”
“But there’s nothing wrong with a descendant of Perenelle Flamel digging into history to prove the true identity of Philippe Hayden … ”
As for Alchemical Paint and Perenelle’s knowledge of how to paint objects and people into a canvas, we thought it was best to keep that to ourselves.
The police never did catch up with Ward Talbot, but I had a portrait tucked into the darkest corner of my attic that looked a lot like him. What a funny coincidence, that.
the end
Recipes
Carrot Cake Breakfast Cookies (vegan)
Total cooking time: 30 minutes (plus 1 hour for baking the sweet
potato, if not using canned pumpkin)
Makes approx. 16 cookies
Ingredients:
1 cup baked sweet potato (or substitute 1 cup canned pumpkin puree, unsweetened)
2 cups rolled oats
1 cup finely chopped and pitted Medjool dates (around 10–12)
1 cup shredded carrots
1⁄3 cup melted coconut oil
1 tsp cinnamon
½ tsp ground ginger
½ tsp ground nutmeg
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
dash cayenne (optional)
½ cup chopped pecans
¼ cup raisins (or substitute dried cranberries)
¼ cup almond flour (optional, but good to use if you want the cookies to be more durable to transport them)
Directions:
Advance prep: Bake a large sweet potato ahead of time (1 hour at 400°F), if you want to use fresh sweet potato instead of canned pumpkin. If your dates are too hard to work with, place in a shallow bowl and soak them in hot water for 10 minutes.
Preheat oven to 350°F and prepare a large baking pan with parchment paper. In a large bowl, mix the oats, sweet potato (or pumpkin), carrots, coconut oil, and spices. Combine well, using a fork or your fingers. Stir in the pecans and raisins. Using a 1⁄3 cup measuring cup, scoop mixture onto the parchment paper. Bake for approximately 22 minutes.
Variation: If you prefer a smoother cookie, mix the first batch of ingredients (everything except nuts and raisins/cranberries) in small batches in a food processor.
Variation: There’s no added sugar to the recipe above. If you’d like to turn this into a sweeter dessert treat, add ¼ cup date syrup or maple syrup, make the cookies slightly smaller with a ¼ cup measuring cup, and reduce the cooking time to 20 minutes.
Summer Fruit Compote (vegan)
Total cooking time: 10 minutes
Makes 8 servings
Ingredients:
1 ½ cup frozen summer berries, such as blackberries, blueberries, and strawberries
1 tsp maple syrup
1 tsp fresh squeezed lemon juice
¼ tsp ground ginger
¼ tsp ground cardamom
Directions:
Combine all the ingredients in a small saucepan on medium-low, stirring periodically, for approximately 10 minutes, until syrupy.
Use to top oatmeal, toast, or scones.
Variation: If it’s summer and you have fresh berries, you can use fresh berries instead, but add 1 Tbsp of water or more, to make sure the mixture doesn’t burn.
Fire Tea, Four Ways
All of the teas below are a mix of healing spices, acids, and optional sweeteners. For each, pour near-boiling water over the ingredients in your favorite mug, stir, and enjoy.
The Flamels’ Fire Tea
¼ tsp cayenne
¼ tsp turmeric
¼ tsp ginger powder
¼ tsp cinnamon
dash of salt and pepper
lemon juice
optional ½ tsp coconut oil
For easier prep, mix a larger batch of the dry ingredients in a glass jar with a lid. Scoop 1 tsp when ready to drink.
Tobias’s Cayenne Fire Tea
1 tsp cayenne
1 tsp freshly sliced ginger
1 tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp honey
Zoe’s Simple Fire Tea
1 tsp cayenne
dash salt
1 tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
Blue’s Added-Kick Fire Tea
½ tsp cayenne
½ tsp cinnamon
1 tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp Apple Cider Vinegar (raw with the “mother”)
1 tsp honey
Author’s Note
Historical research is one of the most enjoyable parts of writing the Accidental Alchemist mysteries. Although alchemy as described in the book is fictional, the ideas behind alchemy, and its historical precedence when early chemists were figuring out scientific transformations, are real. Nicolas Flamel, Perenelle Flamel, and Edward Kelley were real people, although whether or not they were alchemists is another question. However … Kelley claimed to be an alchemist and sought the patronage of Rudolf II, and after the Flamels spent their life together giving large amounts of money to charity, their graves were indeed discovered to be empty.
Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin and Eugène Viollet-le-Duc are real historical figures, who you can read much more about in the earlier books in the Accidental Alchemist series, especially The Masquerading Magician.
Ergot poisoning is one of the many theories to explain the Salem Witch Trials. A fungus that can grow in rye (a staple crop the people of Salem Village ate), ergot poisoning can cause delusions and hallucinations.
A few research materials of note: The Getty Museum in Los Angeles held an exhibit, The Art of Alchemy, while I was researching this novel. I was fortunate to visit in person, and though the exhibit is over, much of it has been catalogued as an online exhibit, which
I highly recommend. My bookshelves are overflowing with research books, and a few that were especially helpful include Noah Charney’s The Art of Forgery, Victoria Finlay’s The Brilliant History of Color in Art, Cennino Cennini’s The Craftsman’s Handbook (originally Il Libro dell’ Arte, a fifteenth-century text translated by Daniel V. Thompson, Jr.), Rosemary Gladstar’s Medicinal Herbs, and Guy Ogilvy’s The Alchemist’s Kitchen.
Why a vegan gargoyle chef? As many readers know, I wrote a draft of The Accidental Alchemist, the first book in this series, while undergoing chemotherapy for an aggressive breast cancer. I was thirty-six years old. At the time, I didn’t cook. My husband bought cookbooks to make nourishing meals for me, which I quickly snatched from his hands. It was the beginning of heading down the wonderful rabbit hole of learning to cook. Through cooking classes, cookbooks, and kitchen experimentation, I learned that healing foods can taste more amazing than anything I used to eat, and helped me feel healthier than ever. While battling cancer, I was going to write the book I wanted to write, which meant that after a lifetime of being fascinated by mysterious gargoyles, I was going to write a fun gargoyle character, even though I doubted anyone besides me would enjoy it. I was thrilled to discover I was wrong, and that readers love Dorian the gargoyle as much as I do. He learned to cook plant-based meals at the same time I did. The process transformed me into an accidental almost-vegan, now six years cancer-free.
Acknowledgments
Thanks go to critique readers Nancy Adams, Ritter Ames, Alexia Gordon, Sybil Johnson, Sue Parman, Brian Selfon, and Diane Vallere, each of whom bring their unique talents to show me things I never would have seen without them. Special thanks to former homicide detective and mystery writer Lissa Marie Redmond for advising me on police procedure and brainstorming the possibilities in fiction. And to Amanda Midkiff of Locust Light Farm for herbal tips.
