The Gorgon's Blood Solution Read Online Free Page A

Most of the items on the list were materials that Marco had never used before, and he realized that he was going to have to take time to possibly look at every shelf, even the high ones that the ladders were a necessity to reach.
    He knew where the philosopher’s wool was, so he gathered that and carried it to his table, then returned to the warehouse and began to search for the rest of his ingredients.  Evening began to fall, and he needed to use a lantern to light his way for the last three items, but he felt relieved when he found them after sunset, and returned to his table to find Algornia present and Phillippe temporarily gone.
    “Right now, let’s get started,” Algornia said promptly.
    “What about dinner, master?” Marco asked, reflecting on the rumbling that he had felt in his stomach for the prior half hour.
    “We’ll have time for that later, when the first reactive phase is underway.  In the meantime, you need to listen to instructions on what to do,” Algornia told him in a tone that clearly brooked no debate.  “Here is the first thing to do,” the master told him, and he picked up a small tin box that Marco had retrieved from the warehouse, which he placed on the floor far to the left of Marco’s desk.  He proceeded to take every subsequent ingredient that needed to be used, and lined them up in the order of the steps that Marco would follow, as the apprentice began to furiously scribble notes while he slowly edged along the long chain of activities.
    “Now, get the first steps underway,” Algornia commanded.  “Then you can go upstairs and ask Flavia,” he referred to his crotchety housekeeper, “to fix a bite of supper for you before you come down and move the preliminary steps forward.  I’ll be back in a few hours.”
    Forty five lonely minutes later Marco was busy.  Algornia was gone, Phillippe had not returned, and three processes were underway to transform Marco’s collection of materials into the more complex materials he would need to have to make the philter that was the ultimate goal.  Marco though, found that his notes seemed to miss some information about some of the steps that he needed to take, steps that must have seemed obvious at the time Algornia was describing them, but that seemed less evident as he advanced through his process.
    He decided to stop and go upstairs, where Flavia silently gave him a spiceless, tasteless bowl of stew, and then he returned to resume his efforts to create the building blocks of the love philter that he needed to mix together.
    There were some things his notes made clear needed to be done, so he put some steps on hold and moved on to the things he could prepare, but in another hour’s time, long after the time he would have returned to his bedroom if he had been out with his friends in the square, he was out of steps he was willing to carry out, and he sat down to wait for Algornia to return.  He sat and waited, rested his head on his hand, then he closed his eyes and quickly nodded off.
    “What’s happening here?” he heard Algornia’s voice ask, and his head snapped up.
    “I was waiting for you to give me some advice,” Marco spoke up quickly, hoping he sounded alert.
    “My advice is that you become a butcher,” Algornia said unkindly, looking at the numerous incomplete activities that Marco had scattered around the work room.  “Tell me what you have and why.”
    Another hour later, after much restructuring, redirection, and a few uttered curses, Algornia left the shop to go to bed, and Marco restarted his efforts, carrying out multiple tasks simultaneously.  By the time the sunrise began to illuminate the square outside the shop, Marco was asleep, satisfied that he had carried out creation of his philter precursors, and would only have a few hours’ work to successfully complete the project the next day.
    Alchemy, Algornia insisted and lectured, was about purification.  It was the search for perfection, purity, the