Gifford stared, horrified, at the pile of dust. He gulped.

"That was Hobbs?"

"I'm afraid so," murmured Jackson. "He was already old. Too old. He knew there was a risk but he insisted on trying the Elixir."

"So how old was he?" asked Ursula.

"Well, he admitted to eighty, but I suspect he was far older. And to be fair, it did seem to help. He was able to keep his job here, as gatekeeper-"

Jackson closed his mouth tightly, as if realising he might have said too much, then opened the door to the outside and gestured to the four visitors. "If you'll excuse me, I must go and let the Professor know what's happened."

Gifford scarcely waited until they were out of earshot before exploding.

"Well, that was a fracking waste of time! What good is an Elixir that turns you into a pile of dust?"

"To be fair, the Professor appeared healthy enough," Ursula replied, thoughtfully. "Always presuming he was telling us the truth about trialling it on himself. What I found interesting though, was the story he gave us about how he created an Alchemists' Stone."

"'Story'?" queried Jareth.

"Utter hogwash!" Ursula stated, firmly. "It made no scientific sense whatsoever. Seawater will never turn brass into gold, no matter what 'process' one uses!" she added scornfully.

"Interesting. I wonder what he hoped to achieve?"

"Maybe he hoped to dazzle us with his antics!" Gifford said, snidely. Evidently, he felt thoroughly disillusioned by the fate of Hobbs.

"Or else, he wished us to conclude he was a fraud," Jareth suggested.

"Why would he do that?" Gifford was mystified.

"Perhaps to cause exactly this reaction," Jareth mused. "We all return to our employers to report the whole thing is a hoax, and Maybury is then left alone, to pursue his research in private."

"Perhaps. I confess I hadn't thought of that," Ursula murmured.

Gifford was unconvinced. "I don't believe it. The man's a charlatan, pure and simple."

"I intend to keep my appointment with him tomorrow," Pol said. "I wonder what answer he will give me then, about the gold?"

"Hmm. I think perhaps we should also make a second appointment to see the Professor. We shouldn't allow ourselves to be discouraged so easily." Ursula sounded as if she was having second thoughts about her reaction.

Gifford disagreed.

"You and Coppersmith may do as you please. I, for one, have had enough of that man." He sniffed. "I shall arrange for transportation back to Blackworth this very afternoon and then take the Night Express to Stonehaven. I'll make my report to the Guild tomorrow."

They continued the rest of the walk to the village in silence, each busy with their own thoughts.

When they reached the inn, Gifford lost no time in arranging for a steam carriage to transport him to the station in Blackworth. He went upstairs to pack.

Ursula was waiting for him on the landing when he came out of his room.

"Have you changed your mind?" he asked. "The carriage isn't here yet. You still have time to pack if you're quick."

"No, but thank you. I want to stay a little longer, until I'm absolutely certain the Alchemists' Stone is still the myth it has always been."

Gifford pursed his lips.

"I think you're making a mistake, Miss Fisher, but it's your decision." He looked around to check they were alone, but lowered his voice anyway. "Just keep an eye out for Coppersmith, won't you? There's something odd about him... secretive. I've never really understood why the Guild wanted him to come with us."

Ursula smiled. "I'll be fine, you don't need to worry about Coppersmith."

She walked downstairs with him to the front door.

"Safe travels, Mr Gifford. I'll see you later, in Stonehaven."

~~

Jareth sat looking out the window in his room, watching Gifford depart with mixed feelings. Was it really worth his while to stay longer?

He had always thought the idea of creating a formula for turning base metal into gold was, at the best, wishful thinking. After meeting the Professor and observing his laboratory, he had been convinced they were dealing with a fraud, an opinion reinforced by Ursula's dismissal of Maybury's explanation.

Jareth thought back to his original brief, which had been to destroy the formula if it existed and prevent Maybury creating another. Then, when he'd refused, the assignment had morphed into preventing a rival from Mancuria getting hold of it.

Of course, if the formula was a fake then both problems were solved and no further action was required. Easy. He should pack up and join Gifford, and report to Gamer that the formula didn't exist.

But then... Maybury had produced that Elixir. That had caught his attention well and truly, despite its dramatically fatal side effects. An elixir that could prolong life would be worth far more than gold.

Jareth still believed the Alchemists' Stone was a trick, but as for the Elixir? He didn't know.

Certainly, that warranted more investigation.

He wondered what Pol was planning.

~~

Pol was sitting downstairs in the tavern, nursing a pint of cider. "'Steal the formula. Eliminate rivals as necessary,'" he grumbled. All very well for Godolphin, sitting snugly in the castle, but how exactly was he supposed to do that? It wasn't as if the formula was written out neatly on a piece of parchment. As far as he could tell, the formula, if indeed it existed, was entirely inside Maybury's head. He'd have to steal Maybury himself.

He smiled wryly at the image this conjured up.

And as for eliminating his rivals... he didn't want to eliminate Jareth. Not at all. He could think of much better things he'd rather do with him.