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causes our species to pass from an inferior to a superior plane by means of a
spiritual agent, a true seed called powder of projection!”

“B-but last night,” ventured Gemma. “Your eyes. And that disturbing
hircine sound.”

“Oh, yes. Well, you see, I went back for a second dose.”

“After promising yourself you wouldn't! Why?”

“It gave me a glorious feeling. I wanted it again. I craved it. The N’ariq
was calling to me, lulling me with music, serene, achingly beautiful.
Rhythmless but flowing, like the rippling of a river or the blowing of the wind.
It brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to hear that music again. I convinced
myself a second dose would be all I would need, as a preventative. The first
dose had cured me. A second dose would ward off a relapse and keep the fever
at bay. I am a perfectly healthy man, Gemma. I shall live to be a hundred.
Two hundred! This marvelous product is obtained by the real death and
putrefaction of a metallic substance, which, transfigured, in its turn modifies
the nature of other creatures. Under its action these likewise undergoes a
prompt death and resurrection that elevates them to their highest degree of
dignity. Ah, but there's a tradeoff. Perfect health, yes, but only so long as I
continue taking doses of N’ariq.”

“You took a second dose!”

“And a third, and a fourth, and now many, I have sold everything we
own to buy more.”

“The evil alchemist! We will bring him before the law!”

“No, my child. Do not blame the alchemist. He warned me. It is my
frail, weak nature which causes me to want more. The alchemist actually

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