The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)(5)

"And old," Matt said. "And a nurse claimed the patient breathed. You should have checked."

Hale's mouth worked but no words came out. He looked as if he would reach across the desk and strangle Matt to keep him quiet. "The fact is," he eventually said, "whether the patient was already dead or almost dead, I brought him to full recovery for a few minutes. Alas, it didn't last. But think of the implications, Mr. Glass. Think of what it could mean."

"I am," Matt said heavily. "I think of nothing but the implications."

"If I could perfect the cure, make it last longer…" He left the sentence unfinished, but his smile had returned. "But there's no way to do so."

I looked to Matt but he shook his head slightly. He didn't want me to reveal what we knew about combining time magic with types. I agreed with him, for now. We should not reveal our knowledge until we knew we could trust Hale. He may have lied about this entire scenario for the attention.

"I'm very excited by your interest," Hale went on. "The Weekly Gazette is one thing, but The Times is quite another. Your reach is incredible and the paper's reputation beyond question. If you report on magic, and state that it exists, then you will be believed." He got up and began pacing back and forth in front of his window, as if he couldn't be still. "This is an exciting development and quite unexpected. I think the world is ready to believe. People want magic to exist. They're tired of their mundane lives. They want to break the monotony. Magic can do that." He snapped his fingers and pointed at Matt. "Speak to Oscar Barratt. He might be able to enlighten you on some other magical cases. I believe I wasn't the first magician he reported on."

The more he spoke, the more I found myself believing him. He might be arrogant, and a little irritating, but he did speak in earnest. He was a magician. I was certain of it.

My heart did a little skip in my chest. If this man was a magical doctor, then Chronos might be aware of his existence and perhaps have been here. I was about to ask Hale when Matt suddenly sat forward. He'd had his doubts about Hale's story, but I suspected he now thought the same as me.

"Do you know a man named Pierre DuPont?" he asked, the words spilling from his lips in a rush.

Hale shook his head. "Is he a reporter with an interest in magic, too?"

"He also goes by the name Chronos."

Surprise flickered across Hale's face. "The old clockmaker? He came here some time ago. He never told me his real name. DuPont sounds like a French name, but that Chronos fellow didn't have an accent."

My breath caught in my throat. We'd thought the name and accent were part of a disguise, but to hear Hale confirm it was a relief. And to think he'd met Chronos! It was more than I'd hoped for.

"What does he look like?" Matt asked. His features schooled, but the flush in his cheeks gave away his excitement.

"White hair, elderly but rather sprightly for his age." Hale leaned forward and glanced at each of us in turn. "He's a magician." He leaned back again. "But I see that you both knew that already."

The knuckles on Matt's fisted hand turned whiter. "Do you know where we can find him?"

"Yes."

"Where?" both Matt and I blurted out.





Chapter 2





"Why the sudden interest in Chronos?" The pout could be heard in Hale's voice, if not seen on his face. "I thought it was me you wanted to interview for your story."

"We do," I said, before Matt could dismiss him and ruin not only our chances of finding Chronos but having Hale help us once we did find him. Although Dr. Parsons, the original magical doctor, had claimed the problem was with Matt's timepiece, not his body, it was possible he'd been mistaken. Perhaps both magicians were required to work together after all.

"Then don't you want to know the details of how I cured the patient?" Hale asked, indicating his bookcase full of jars.

"Of course we do," I said, summoning some patience from goodness knew where. Matt's body had gone rigid, as if he were trying to contain himself. "But we're interested in all magic, and we've heard about Chronos. May we have his address, please?"

"Oh, I don't know where he lives," Hale said, "only the name of a tavern where he drinks. He told me if I ever came across a magical doctor that I was to contact him at the Cross Keys on High Holborn."

Matt stood. "Thank you, Doctor." He checked his pocket watch—not his magical one—and headed for the door. "India?" he said when he realized I hadn't followed.

But I couldn't take my gaze off Dr. Hale. "What did he mean if you 'came across a magical doctor?' You are a magical doctor."

"Ah, you made the same mistake as Chronos."

Matt stalked back to me and leaned his knuckles on the desk. "You told us you're magical."

"I am. But I'm an apothecary, not a doctor. Well, I am a physician by profession, but my magic is with medicines." He indicated the jars again. "Do you understand the difference?"

Matt lowered his head. He must have thought the same as me—that if we required both a doctor and horology magician, we had at least found the former. But we had not.