Hawkeye frowned, taking the two vials out and gingerly placing them back into a wooden box.

“No, but it’s dangerous stuff. It must have been a recent invention, since someone from the Royal Alchemists came down to brief us on it personally.”

There were no chairs in evidence, but Hawkeye sat on one of the workbenches – next to what appeared to be a cross between a lightning-gun and a harpoon launcher – and motioned for her to do the same. Elletra put the jar of gunpowder back on the shelf.

“I’m pretty sure this Nightmare stuff was invented by your father, the Earl.”

He shrugged, picking up a another gun – heavily-built carbine – and sighting down its length.

“It’s entirely possible. He had a lot of alchemists working for him, especially around the time when you came along. We mostly kept to our own devices except for formal occasions or when he wanted something from me. I had better people to be spending time with – um, I mean, there were other things to worry about.”