The Heartsmith's Daughter

Chapter 18.

I watched as Oliver took a step back from the mighty flame before I blew it out from existence, its smoke leaving a ghostly trail behind. "What?" he exclaimed. "The same air from the balloon is in here? How?"

"It's the way the lavatory is designed," I pointed out, trying not to sound too prideful. Really, it had been a lucky guess at best. "The Romans invented sewages ages ago, and yet it was crafted much better than most of the pipes running through the houses we live in." I glanced over at him. "Or at least, the ones most people live in. So many people are starting to come to America now, that houses need to be built, and built quickly. So most of the gases that come from human waste..." I gestured to the water closet. "...like methane and hydrogen, are left to sit and stew in lower pipes before it's fully flushed away. There were several cases of people bringing candles in their lavatory late at night, and horrible accidents would ensue from the flammable gases. We're lucky it only grew the flame that high rather than causing a whole fire."

"That almost makes me glad to just have to dig a hole in the ground," Oliver admitted.

"Lovely." I rolled my eyes, not even caring to watch my attitude. Boys...

"So what now? How do you suppose we make acid out of air?" Oliver asked.

"It isn't just made of air," I muttered, digging my hand through the satchel on my hip. My hand landed on the bottle of chloroform. I sighed. I have to be sure to only use a little, or else I'll have nothing for surgery. I pushed aside a small cup holding a straw toothbrush, to make room for the glass bottle. "We're also going to need something called chlorine." I screwed open the top of the chloroform, being careful not to take a whiff of the contents. I had made that mistake once before as a curious child, and knew better than to try it once again. The colorless liquid sat in its glass jar on the counter, and I dumped a large amount into the cup that had the toothbrush, hoping it would reserve it for later.

After leaving the bottle open for a minute, I tested to make sure the air was inside by striking another match. It remained lit inside the jar, which meant it had made its way inside. With that, I quietly turned on the sink water to fill the bottle a little bit more, and screwed the lid back on tight. I could only pray that it would hold well enough.

"Is it acid?" Oliver wondered aloud, crouching down to inspect the contents with one eye, the other squinted for a better look.

"Not yet," I admitted, looking away. "Truth be told, they have to be combined, but I'm not sure how to go about doing that."

"Hmmmm. How's about a spoon?"

I didn't even bother to stop my hand from slapping into my own face. "What do you take this for? Cookie dough? You can't just mix it." I looked over at it, my mind flashing back to everything I had ever read on science. I knew the acid was used to add a citric taste to foods, and the specific passage I had seen it in had claimed it was a very unhealthy practice, being made of chlorine, but how to combine it? "Most chemical concoctions are produced through heat, but also unlike cookies, it is most likely going to need a lot. A simple toss in the oven wouldn't be even close to enough. What if it should need to be five hundred degrees? I don't know how to bring up the temperature that high." And if I can't, we cannot collect the heart pieces. Who knows how many could be behind that door. How many others would I have to kill to find what I needed? How many more lives would have to be on my hands, ones that I would regret for the rest of my stolen life?

"Eva. It's all right." At the sound of his voice, I looked up, realizing with a start that I had begun to cry. "We'll find something. Isn't this the home of a Gadgeteer? He would have to have some tools to melt metal. Like a..." I watched as he began to tap his fingers in front of him, trying to think of the word. "A lötlampe!"