Free Alchemy and Meggy Swann by Karen Cushman Page B

fire in the cooper's shop," she said as she handed him the bread, "and all the neighborers came to help. Did you not hear the hubbub or smell the smoke?"
    "I was at my work," he said. "Come hither—I require your assistance. Pour this solution into—"
    "Soft, sir, soft. First I require yours," Meggy said. "The man at the old cloak shop next us curses and spits at me in the street."
    "What care I what the man does?"
    "He wishes me ill. This very morning he did accuse me of setting the fire in the cooper's shop. I pray you speak to him ere he—"
    "Fie upon it!" Master Ambrose shouted, waving his bread. "Do not bother me with trifles. Now take this—"
    Meggy's cheeks flamed. "Anon, sir," she said. "I do think this matter no trifle and must attend to it without delay." She picked up her walking sticks, wabbled to the door, and started down the stairs. A cold selfish man, he was, she thought. A mean, small, petty, and ungenerous man who could not stir himself to help her—or anyone. It appears I must strain the curdle from this custard myself, she thought.
    She sat down at the table, chin in her hand. If only, she thought, she could drive Old Cloaks off with threats of the Devil and the evil eye as she had the children in her village. She opened her eyes wider. Aye, she thought, aye, that might serve. And she left the house, her hands trembling on the walking sticks in anger and fear and excitement, as she wabbled to the shop of Master Old Cloaks.
    He frowned when he saw her and might have spat, but she spoke first. "I wish to strike a bargain with you," she said. "If you cease shouting and spitting and hurling accusations at me, I will not fire your shop."
    He looked about at the piles of old cloaks and doublets and shoes, and his face grew pale. Even so he took a step toward her and said, "I do not bargain with detestable crook-legs and Devil's spawn."
    "As you will," said Meggy. "I shall call upon my legion of demons to assist me in my dark work. Belike we will begin by burning this row of fine leather boots." She motioned to him. "It were best you stand apart, lest you be scorched by the flames."
    The man's mouth gaped and his eyes bulged. "Nay, nay!" he shouted. "I will do as you wish. Avaunt! Aroint, you witch! Leave my shop and take your fiends, demons, and hobgoblins with you."
    Thundering toads, the lean-witted old goat truly believes I can do it, Meggy thought. He was more gullible and more craven than even the youngest villager! Never had her affliction served her so well. "We will leave you in peace," she said, "all of us, so long as you remember our bargain. You, little imp, hiding in the corner. Pick up your tail and come along. Yes, that is right."
    Staring at the corner, Master Old Cloaks flattened himself against the wall. "We give you good morrow, sir," Meggy called over her shoulder as she left the shop.
    Once safely back in the house at the Sign of the Sun, Meggy let her breath out with a whoosh. She dropped onto the bench and rested her head on the table. Belike it was dangerous, her pretending to be a witch, but she thought the watchman's threats would keep Master Old Cloaks silent. And Roger should have seen me, she thought. He would doubt not what a fine player I would be. Relief, pride, and amazement at what she had done with her poor pennyworth of courage filled her.
    Master Peevish hastened down the stairs and through the room. Meggy sat up. "Sir, I am returned," she began, but he waved her off.
    "I must away," he said, and he hastened out the door and up Crooked Lane.
    Meggy was hungry. She climbed to the laboratorium and looked for coins in the copper pot. There were not many, and none were gold. Meggy snorted as she fished them out. Great Work indeed. Immortality, hmph. Better he should seek to change metal into sausages so she could eat.
    In a cookshop on Thames Street Meggy bought a rabbit pie and a berry tart. On arriving back at the house at the Sign of the Sun, she climbed again to the