Seven Lessons in Alchemy, Prologue

Serjaa, God of Poison, blinked His eight eyes in surprise. "You didn't mean to?"

"Indeed." I edged away from the black venom that drips endlessly from His fangs. "I thought you'd already know that, being a god and all. No offense intended."

He shook His head. "Oh, no, I'm not omniscient. I sensed that a mortal had taken action to poison about a hundred thousand people, so I assumed you were trying to win My favour."

I looked back at the river. With a sinking feeling, I recalled that it flowed directly through the capital. "Not trying as such, no. I was gathering some Emerald Flux for my master and, well, sort of dropped it while crossing the bridge on the way back. I should probably have sealed the jar properly."

Serjaa reclined His sinuous body on His eight legs. As the moments stretched on, I trembled at the thought that He was preparing to slay me for my insolence.

"Very well," He said at last. "I'll keep in touch."

And with a great POP! the god vanished.

I began to wonder whether my apprenticeship had been a mistake.

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