Read A Conspiracy of Alchemists: Book One in the Chronicles of Light and Shadow for Free Online Page A

sun scented the earth with sage and rosemary. We helped them see in the study of the leaves what would come to pass. But that was a long time ago. Mankind no longer concerns itself with what might be tomorrow. Instead, they spend their short, brutish lives burning and wasting, without sparing a thought for what might happen once they are gone. They call themselves scientists and “enlightened,” while we, the ones who have seen the seasons turn a thousand times over are denigrated to dwell in the Shadows.
    There are those who believe that humans are beyond the assistance that any of my kind might give. There are those of us who have hardened our hearts. But I embrace neither of these thoughts completely.
    The girl with the horse chestnut hair did not know the danger she would face. She was blissfully unaware of the clouds that gathered from behind. And so I slept on, dreaming of the serenity found only at the feet of trees.

    The clouds before the headlights of the Water Lily parted for a moment. Elle caught a glimpse of the quartz-black sea of the English Channel as it shifted below them.
    She checked the clock on the instrument panel. It was past midnight; they had been flying for almost seven hours.
    She yawned, put the steering lock in place to keep the ship on course and reached up to stretch her shoulders. Out of habit, she glanced at her compass to check the ship’s bearings and smiled with satisfaction. Apart from being a bit low on balloon gas, they were steady on course.
    The ship was pulling a little to one side as helium seeped from the bullet holes, but they didn’t have far to go now, so they would be all right. She would need to book the Water Lily in for an overhaul after they landed though. She was also now going to need her canvas patched and refilled. That was annoying. A quick charter across the Channel did not usually include being shot at. She fiddled with the bracelet around her wrist. She should have known there would be problems the moment Patrice gave her this bracelet. What could possibly have been inside the box that would have caused such a fracas? She shrugged. If she’d learned anything in the past few years as a pilot, it was that sometimes it was better not to ask questions.
    She glanced over at her travel companions. Patrice was asleep on a bale of cotton packing bags, judging by the soft snores that were emanating from the back. Marsh was in the seat next to her, hunched up in his cloak with his eyes closed. He had a fine face, etched out in profile by the lights of the flight console. It was a pity that it belonged to a man who was so ill-tempered.
    “That must be England,” he said, opening his eyes as if it was in reply to her thoughts.
    She looked away and cleared her throat. “Yes. I took the long way round across the Channel from Dieppe. The moon is out, so if you look carefully, you should see the white cliffs and the lights of Eastbourne in a few minutes.”
    He leaned forward to look out of the window. “Interesting. I’ve never flown in the front seat before. Look at all those stars.”
    “It’s what I love best about flying. Up here everything is so quiet. Peaceful.” She thought better of telling him why they were still in the air. The fact that she had to fly at slow speed to conserve balloon gas and that she’d taken the long way to avoid air patrol ships did not make for tranquil flying.
    She spotted the lighthouse that signaled landfall in the distance. “See those lights to the left of that bank of clouds? Those are just off the white cliffs at Beachy Head. We’re nearly home.”
    “And where would home be, Miss Chance? London?” he asked.
    “Oxford actually, but I stay with my uncle and aunt in London when I am flying. They have a house off Grosvenor Square.”
    “And your uncle is?”
    “Lord Geoffrey Chance. My father, Charles, is his younger brother.”
    “Professor Charles Chance?” Marsh considered the matter for a moment. “The spark-reactor