Chapter 3

Previous evening in Salem...

A shaken Janus dark hurried through the Old Burying Point Cemetery, wanting nothing more than to be away from the long shadows of old tragedy that seemed to haunt the place. The warning of Sarah Good still echoed in his ears; 'Condemn the innocent and God will give you blood to drink.' The old warlock shuddered as he passed the ancient tree that spread its gnarled branches like boney fingers trying to grasp at his cloak, and impede his progress out of the cemetery.

Finally he was on Charter Street and ready to put some distance between himself and that cursed place. Never again would he come to Salem to get a rush order of this ingredient for the Curatio, not for the Hellfire club, or anyone else. They would just have to wait until he received a regularly placed order, or go elsewhere. What had he been thinking.

It took ten minutes of brisk walking to get his nerves back in order, and then the old potion maker began to think about the man he had come to see, Xavier Malum. Janus had met the reclusive Malum centuries ago, when the only cure for demon pox was a potion that would slow down the symptoms. At that time, Dark had already begun to gain a reputation as a first rate potion maker, and he had spent considerable time trying to improve the old cure, to no avail. He loved a challenge, but all his efforts seemed to be nothing but an exercise in frustration. Then one day a good friend of his told him about a reclusive old warlock living near Salem who was reputed to be a genius with potions.

Janus Dark wasted no time in contacting the warlock, sending him a long message outlining his attempts to improve the treatment for demon pox, and begging for a chance to visit Xavier Malum. It had taken three months to get a response from Malum, a response that included a refusal to meet, and a quantity of reddish brown powder with the instructions that it was to replace one of the key ingredients in the standard cure. He was to let Malum know, by fire message, how it worked. Janus did as instructed, and the Curatio Daemonium Insanitas was born.

The efficacy of the new potion was nothing short of miraculous, although it still wasn't a true cure, managing only to suppress the symptoms for as long as one took the potion. But it was so much better than any of its predecessors that Janus' reputation became unassailable, he was the potion maker extraordinaire. Janus Dark snorted, his claim to fame rested on an ingredient that he could not even analyze, let alone make. Lord knew he had spent years trying. Janus' reputation as the premier potion maker would certainly have been challenged if Malum had decided to market the Curatio himself.

Deep in his own thoughts Janus almost missed the overgrown lane that led to Xavier Malum's house. It was a windy night, and very dark when the moon was shrouded by drifting clouds. The old trees that lined either side of the lane creaked and groaned as they were buffeted by stronger gusts. Standing starkly at the end of the lane was an old weathered wooden house. Whatever paint had adorned the exterior was long since gone, leaving the exposed wood to gray and rot. Many of the windows were boarded up, and those that weren't displayed jagged, broken panes exposing the interior of the house to the elements. Taken all together, anyone seeing the place would certainly be forgiven for thinking it was an abandoned house, and most probably haunted.

Janus made his way up the steps, careful to avoid areas of the porch that looked particularly rotten and unsafe. It was only when he reached the front door and saw it was slightly ajar that the first thrill of fear touched him. Zavier was an eccentric, reclusive warlock, but he was not a fool. The few times Janus had visited him previously, he'd been very aware that the place was strongly warded. Now he felt nothing, and the open door swinging slightly on its hinges was more than enough to tell the potion maker that something was very, very wrong.

Stepping carefully into the dark hallway, Janus snapped his fingers to produce a glowing vermillion flame. It was enough light to show him the cracked and broken plaster walls, and the inches of dust that covered the few remaining sticks of furniture. How could anyone live like this Janus wondered, especially a gifted potion maker like Xavier Malum. Moving deeper into the house he came to the doorway of what at one time, must have been a cozy parlor.

It was a strange, ruin of a room now. The tattered drapes adorning the windows were a nondescript gray, shattered by age, and neglect until they resembled nothing so much as cobwebs. In the corner of the room sat an old upright piano, its once lustrous wood cracked and dusty, the ivory keys yellowed where they weren't missing entirely. The ancient instrument seemed to be leering at him with a hideous gap toothed grin. The old potion maker shook his head slightly trying to clear his mind of such silly fanciful nonsense.

A sudden moan from behind Janus had him whirling around with his heart in his mouth. It was all he could do not to race for the door and put as much distance between himself and this frightful place as possible. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Dark approached the corner of the room where he'd heard the noise; "I-is anyone there?" he stammered; "Xavier?"

The only answer was another low moan. Janus was close enough now however to make out the figure of a man slumped on the floor. Despite the blood that covered part of the man's face, Janus recognized his friend Xavier Malum and hastily knelt down to lend some assistance. Healing wasn't the potion maker's forte, but he could manage in an emergency, which this certainly seemed to be; but just as his magic began to collect and spark at his finger tips, Malum laid a shaking hand on his arm and stopped him.

"Every warlock knows when it's his time, and this is mine;" Xavier's voice was weak and it took an obvious effort for him to speak, yet he somehow managed to sound very calm and certain, there was no fear or doubt.

"Xavier, don't be ridiculous, let me help you!" Janus cried.

"I don't need any help Janus, but you do, so don't waste anymore time, help me sit up a bit and listen to what I say. Your life may depend on it." Xavier said coughing slightly as he tried to regain his breath. Janus reluctantly complied with his friend's wishes.

Once he was settled Xavier took a shaky breath and began to speak; "The men who came here were from the Hellfire Club. They are trying to produce the Curatio themselves, and somehow discovered I provide you with an essential ingredient, one they could not analyze;" Xavier broke off as coughs wracked his weak body, at last however, he was able to compose himself and continue. "I don't suppose that is any surprise to you, as I'm sure you've been trying the same thing for years."

Janus nodded his head, and again tried to offer some healing magic, but the old warlock shook his head.

"Listen! He said urgently; "They took a supply of the powder I had on hand, believing it would be enough to allow them to determine the secret. Such arrogant fools. If a brilliant potion maker like you can't suss out the secret, they will never be able to!" Xavier stopped to catch his shallow breath, grabbing on to Janus' robe and dragging him closer. "They don't know! They don't know!" He said cackling hoarsely between fits of coughing. "Here! Here!" He grasping weakly at his pocket and dragged forth a small, leather bound book; "This will tell you everything! It will save you Janus, it will save...!" With one last desperate gasp, the old warlock pushed the volume into Janus hands and collapsed. No amount of healing magic could save him now, all that was left was to do was arrange his hands, and close his sightless eyes.