Free A Conspiracy of Alchemists: Book One in the Chronicles of Light and Shadow by Liesel Schwarz Page A

a castle, complete with turrets. It was fitted with a tiny spark reactor under the keep. A small conveyor belt fed the sliced bread into the machine, where it was toasted by the heat from the reactor before being dropped out from the portcullis and onto the recipient’s plate, amidst the whirring and ticking sound of tiny gears.
    “What a clever machine!” Patrice pulled a perfectly toasted slice of bread from the conveyor belt with a pair of silver tongs and added it to the growing pile of toast on his plate.
    “Yes, it is, isn’t it? No more burnt fingers from holding toasting forks in front of the fire. Or cold toast arriving on a tray.” Elle helped herself to two slices from Patrice’s stack and sat down at the table.
    Mrs. Hinges was right. What she really wanted to know was if this business with her father had been her fault. The possibility was almost too much to bear thinking about. Her poor father. Where was he? What was she going to do?
    “Miss Chance, are you quite well?” Marsh said asked.
    Elle blinked. “Yes. I’m fine.”
    Mrs. Hinges bustled into the dining room and set plates of fried eggs and ham in front of them. The eggs looked and smelled ravishing. Elle’s insides gurgled at the smell of the food. She realized that the queasy feeling in her stomach was hunger. She picked up a piece of toast and dipped it into her egg.
    Marsh sat next to her, eating and making notes in a notebook with a pencil, oblivious to the offense he was causing.
    She bit into her toast in resentful silence.
    Eventually, Patrice set his fork down. “My head hurts like the devil is dancing upon it,” he muttered. He explored the angry purple lump on the side of his head in the reflection of the silver milk jug.
    Marsh looked up and smiled. “Looks like Mrs. Hinges got the better of you, old chap.”
    “Mr. Chevalier, perhaps you should lie down and rest for a while. I think a cold compress might take that swelling down, hmm?” Mrs. Hinges said.
    “The prospect of a nice long nap does sound appealing. It’s been a long night,” Patrice said.
    “Well, why don’t you go upstairs and lie down. I will bring you a compress and some headache powders in a minute,” Mrs. Hinges said.
    Patrice allowed himself to be led away while Hinges fussed over him.
    “Patrice appears to have had a lucky escape this morning. Some parts of Oxford are more perilous than the backstreets of Paris, it seems.” Marsh gave Elle an amused look.
    Elle set her fork down. “Mrs. Hinges is a good woman and she was only trying to defend herself. I would have done exactly the same if it were me. In fact, I’m minded to fetch that frying pan right now.”
    Marsh looked at her with surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
    “Mr. Marsh, you may sit here at your leisure, having your tea and eggs as it pleases you, but I cannot. Not while I know that my father is out there somewhere. Alone.”
    Marsh set his fork down. “You are quite correct. Forgive me for considering your comfort and welfare before launching into a major search operation.” He set his mouth in a grim line.
    “My comfort and welfare?” she snapped. “My father could be dying or worse as we speak!”
    “That may be so, but there is much we need to consider before we proceed.”
    Her temper flared. “Consider? There is nothing to consider.” She pointed at him. “You, sir, have been nothing but trouble since we met. I’ve been attacked, nearly killed, you’ve stolen my ship and my father has gone missing. And you didn’t even have the decency to tell me your real name and title!” She paused to draw a little exasperated breath. “If I were a betting woman, I would wager that none of this is a coincidence, so why on earth should I believe anything you say?”
    “Are you quite finished?”
    “I am not. I would very much like to know the real reason you are here. What do you want with us? I will need this information for the police constable when I go to see him