The Masquerading Magician (An Accidental Alchemist Mystery, 2)

by Gigi Pandian

Though picnicking in cemeteries has fallen out of fashion, the Victorians loved it. Society wasn’t always death-phobic in the way it is today. Death used to be much more integrated into life. It was difficult to dismiss it so easily when it was more common, but it also wasn’t hidden from sight when it did happen. Though sorrow was involved, it was a natural part of life, and therefore it was celebrated as such, in part through beautifully constructed cemeteries.

Aside from my relationship with my brother, all of the other meaningful relationships I’ve had in my life have been with people—and a gargoyle—who’ve had vastly different life experiences from mine. Different ages, classes, languages, races, religions, nationalities, occupations, passions. The more I saw people’s superficial differences, the more I learned those things weren’t important. In alchemical terms, our bodies are the salt that ages, our spirits are dual-faced mercury that changes with the times, and sulfurous fire is the key to our souls across the ages. Our soul is our true self, regardless of age or history.