Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)
Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK) Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)
Raisins and Almonds 101 not so much that he can make Gold and Silver, or the Divells to become Subject to him, as that he sees the Heavens open, the Angells of God Ascending and Descending, and that his own name is fairely written in the Book of Life.’ He would live forever in his dark robes, wrapped in his ecstatic visions, and his lamp would never go out, for it would be fuelled by Oil of Eternity. Phryne closed her books and glanced out the window. It was darkening towards dusk. She heard the tree branches scrape the glass. The wind must have changed. I am getting uncommonly jumpy, she told herself. Surely no one was really trying to make a philosopher’s stone in 1928? It sounded both ridiculous and impossible. The instructions and recipes were all vague and where, exceptionally, they weren’t vague, they were all different. If Ashmole said that one used mercury, bole ammoniack and saltpeter and Robert Fludd said that the same operation was achieved using slaked lime, verdigris and oil of tartare, then how could the chemical result be the same? Phryne, in common with all girls at her school, had learned a little chemistry, known with a jolly laugh as ‘stinks’. She recalled watching as the teacher poured mercury into a chamber and heated it. Phryne had seen it oxidize into a red powder, then she had watched in amazement as the powder had been heated again and little beads of silvery metal had popped up out of the oxide. That was alchemy, Phryne thought. She got up and washed her face. She was losing her sense of proportion. But if he wasn’t trying to make a philosopher’s stone, why did Simon Michaels have those parchments in his pocket, and why did an honest shoemaker like Yossi Liebermann burn his landlady’s table with chemical experiments? It promised to be an interesting evening.
Chapter Nine Air: this is no Element, but a certain miraculous Hermaphrodite, the Caement of two worlds, and a Medley of Extremes…in this are innumerable magicall Forms of Men and Beasts, Fish and Fowle, Trees, Herbs, and all creeping things. —Thomas Vaughan, Euphrates Dot was not enjoying her attempts to extract information from Miss Lee’s neighbours. She had started at the nearest poulterers, and had waked what was clearly a long-standing feud. ‘I’m investigating the murder in the bookshop,’ she said to the boy behind the counter. He stared at her, momentarily forgetting the large chicken which he had under his arm. It also stared at Dot, and clucked. ‘You know, two days ago. A young man was poisoned,’ she encouraged. The boy gaped. Dot, who was nervous and shy, reflected crossly that she might get more answers out of the chook, and tried again. ‘Is Mr. Lane in?’ For answer, the poultry-bearer shuffled to the door and yelled ‘Boss!’ Then he seemed to feel that he had fulfilled his obligations
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Chapter Nine<br />
Air: this is no Element, but a certain miraculous<br />
Hermaphrodite, the Caement of two<br />
worlds, <strong>and</strong> a Medley of Extremes…in this<br />
are innumerable magicall Forms of Men <strong>and</strong><br />
Beasts, Fish <strong>and</strong> Fowle, Trees, Herbs, <strong>and</strong> all<br />
creeping things.<br />
—Thomas Vaughan, Euphrates<br />
Dot was not enjoying her attempts to extract information from<br />
Miss Lee’s neighbours.<br />
She had started at the nearest poulterers, <strong>and</strong> had waked what<br />
was clearly a long-st<strong>and</strong>ing feud.<br />
‘I’m investigating the murder in the bookshop,’ she said<br />
to the boy behind the counter. He stared at her, momentarily<br />
forgetting the large chicken which he had under his arm. It also<br />
stared at Dot, <strong>and</strong> clucked.<br />
‘You know, two days ago. A young man was poisoned,’ she<br />
encouraged. The boy gaped. Dot, who was nervous <strong>and</strong> shy,<br />
reflected crossly that she might get more answers out of the<br />
chook, <strong>and</strong> tried again. ‘Is Mr. Lane in?’<br />
For answer, the poultry-bearer shuffled to the door <strong>and</strong> yelled<br />
‘Boss!’ Then he seemed to feel that he had fulfilled his obligations
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