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The man grabbed his hat—a fancy affair, with a gold crest on the band—and stormed from the room.

“Inside,” Master Ostrum ordered me. Once the door was shut, he sat down at his desk. “That was Lord Anton,” he said, as if the name meant something to me. I shrugged. “He ran against Governor Adelaide.”

“I saw Governor Adelaide today,” I said.

“Yes.” Master Ostrum’s voice dripped with derision. “I heard about her little stunt.”

I frowned; I didn’t think the governor had pulled any stunt with her speech or by providing the barges. It had been a kindness, one that was needed after the plague had hurt so many.

“You know,” Master Ostrum mused, “the Lord’s Council voted in Lord Anton as the next governor.”

“But then why—?”

“The child Emperor appointed Adelaide instead,” Master Ostrum said.

I hadn’t known it was legal to overrule a vote, but I supposed anything was legal for the one who made the laws.

“You don’t like them very much, do you?” I said. “The Emperor or the governor.”

“No,” Master Ostrum said without inflection. “He’s too young and inexperienced, and he thinks only of himself. And she’s a pawn.”

Emperor Auguste was my age, but I could see Master Ostrum’s point.Icertainly didn’t feel adequate to rule a vast empire.

“But there’s nothing you can do about it,” I said with a shrug.

Master Ostrum leveled me with an intense gaze. “That’s your poverty speaking,” he said bluntly.

I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I didn’t like to be reminded of just how out of place I was at Yugen. My eyes dropped to my lap.

“Don’t be ashamed, girl,” Master Ostrum said. “That’s just the way it is. Someone is raised poor, they don’t see the system, because the system doesn’t work for them. A man tells you that you have to pay a tax, you pay it because to you, the only other option is jail. Men like Greggori,” he continued, raising his eyebrow when my gaze shot up at Grey’s name, “taxman goes to his parents, his parents look at the law.Find a loophole. Don’t pay. Get wealthier. Thenyourfamily’s taxes go up again.

“When you’re an alchemist,” Master Ostrum continued, as if he weren’t slicing me up with his words, “you’ll be richer than your parents. You’ll start to see the system. See how it’s unfair, and how it’s made to be unfair. And then you’ll have to decide if you want to change it or if you want to take advantage of it.”

He leaned back in his chair, the wood squeaking in protest. “I thought I told you to take a holiday, Nedra,” he said, his tone much gentler. “What are you doing here?”

“I can do more,” I said. “To help with the plague.”

Master Ostrum’s lips curved up, but I wouldn’t call it a smile, exactly. He stood and opened the door to his private laboratory for me, following me inside.

Instead of the experiments we’d set up, there was only a book in the center of the metal table.

Master Ostrum’s fingers trailed along the open pages as he took his seat. I sat opposite him, curious. It was a slim volume, bound in deep tan leather almost the exact same hue as my skin, and while there had once been a title gilded on the cover, it had long ago faded to nothing but golden flakes in vaguely letter-shaped outlines.

As if making a decision, Master Ostrum picked the book up and thrust it in my hands.

“What is this?” I asked, gently opening the cover and turning the first few pages. They were stiff and crumbly with age, the paper beige, the ink faded to a russet color.

My fingers found the title page.The Fourth Alchemy.

I read the words several times before I understood what they meant. Transformative alchemy was sometimes called the “first” alchemy. Those alchemists used silver crucibles and dealt withchemistry and physics. The second alchemy was medical, with gold crucibles. The third alchemy was for transactions, a simple alchemy most merchants and bankers knew, using copper.

My eyes raised to Master Ostrum’s. He looked grim. “The fourth alchemy is necromancy.”

The book dropped from my hands, landing with a thud on the metal table. A tiny cloud of dust rose from the pages.

“That’s illegal.” I choked the words out, but they seemed long and heavy. Bennum Wellebourne’s legacy had dogged me all day, from the iron rings on the graves to now.

“It’s not illegal to study necromancy, just to practice it,” Master Ostrum said. He closed the book and again held it out for me to take. After a moment, I did.