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Adelard.”
    â€œNot in the least, Prior. Aqua regia was first compounded over one hundred years ago. It is simply the combination of certain of God’s elements in a given ratio. No spells or incantations are required. Anyone with the recipe can do it. I will show you later, if you wish.”
    â€œThat will not be necessary. What I want to know is, will it work?”
    â€œIf gold cannot stand against aqua regia, how can the Compendium ?”
    Tomás remembered having similar confidence about holy water last night.
    â€œPlease stand back, Prior. I am going to try a small amount first.”
    Tomás held his ground. “Start your trial.”
    He watched as Adelard tilted the flask and allowed a single drop of the smoking liquid to fall onto the cover. It stopped fuming on contact. It neither bubbled nor corroded nor marred the patterned surface in any way. Frowning, Adelard slowly poured a little more over a wider area with similar result. A container of spring water would have had the same effect.
    Adelard used his sandaled foot to flip the cover open, revealing a random page onto which he emptied the flask. The corrosive had no more effect there than on the cover.
    Adelard’s shoulders slumped, and Tomás imagined his own did as well.
    â€œI see no recourse but a deep-sea burial,” Tomás said.
    Adelard lifted his head. “Not yet, good Prior. I am not yet ready to surrender. Give me three days before I must admit defeat.”
    Tomás considered this. Yes, they could spare three days.
    â€œVery well. Three days, Brother Adelard, but no more. And may God speed.”

9
    Tomás spent those three days in prayer, often with Brother Ramiro at his side. Tribunal matters were postponed, meetings were canceled for the time being. Two relapsos awaited their auto da fé but Tomás delayed the sentence until this more pressing matter was resolved.
    They did not know what Brother Adelard was up to, but Tomás was aware of the monk making many trips to and from his workroom carrying mysterious bundles of materials. Questions were raised by other members of the order, inquiring as to the cries of anger and anguish, the cacophony of hammering and sawing and smashing glass issuing from behind the closed door. Tomás was able to put them off with the simple truth: Brother Adelard was engaged in the Lord’s work.
    Toward the end of the third day with no results, Tomás called Ramiro to the tribunal room. He squinted at the stains and sawdust on the monk’s black robe. Ramiro must have noticed the scrutiny.
    â€œI have been making some changes in the library, Prior—doing the work myself since I no longer have a carpenter to call on.”
    Tomás wasn’t sure if he detected a barb in that last remark. Never mind…
    â€œWhile Brother Adelard’s efforts have been heroic, every time I pass him in the hallway he reports no progress. I have given up hope of success by philosophical means. I see the ocean bottom as the only remaining option.”
    Ramiro nodded. “Yes, Prior. I am afraid I agree. I will be happy to make the voyage.”
    Tomás smiled. “How well you anticipate my thoughts. I was just about to tell you that I was assigning you the task. I do not think Brother Adelard has slept at all these past three days and he will be in no condition to make the journey.”
    â€œIt is the least I can do after all his efforts.”
    Just then they heard a voice calling in the hallway.
    â€œPrior Tomás! Prior Tomás! I have done it!”
    Praying that Adelard was not mistaken, Tomás allowed Ramiro to help him down the hall to the workroom.
    â€œI have been trying one combination of elements after another,” Adelard said, leading the way. His eyes looked wild and his robe was pocked with countless holes burned by splashes of the corrosive compounds he had been handling. “Finally I found the one that works—quite