Notes: I have used history and the works of John Dee not so much as a source as a vague jumping-off point. Please suspend disbelief accordingly. Written for the Yuletide 2005 challenge.
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"O God! pardon me if I have sinned against Thy Majesty in revealing such a great mystery in my writings which all may read, but I believe that only those who are truly worthy will understand." – John Dee, Monas Hieroglyphica
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Kim had hoped most of all that married life with Mairelon wouldn't be any different from their life before, and in this she was not disappointed. Despite the nerve-wracking nature of their previous adventures, she could not help but be delighted at the turn her life had taken when she first took the commission to break into Mairelon's wagon in search of the elusive silver bowl.
After Mairelon's proposal, she'd been offered a position in the Ministry of Magics working for the Earl of Shoreham, who oversaw a semi-clandestine group of intelligence-gatherers and operatives. Apparently Shoreham had been impressed by Kim's initiative when it came to keeping Mairelon out of trouble. Kim thought this assessment of her talents was frankly ludicrous, given that she'd only bungled along until it all came out all right. Then again, she'd found that most people had no sense whatsoever, so perhaps a willingness to do what needed to be done was more valuable than she had thought. In any case, Kim had accepted the commission happily, relieved to have a purpose and place at last. Simply being someone's wife would never have suited her, and she hadn't the training for any respectable profession. Working for Shoreham was at least minimally acceptable within society, and as Mairelon's wife she wouldn't be expected to be anything other than eccentric.
She'd hoped that the engagement would put an end to the shopping and teas and morning calls, as well, but that was only partially the case. Preparations for the wedding included a number of interminable dress-fittings, supplemented by the purchase of rather more intimate garments. At first, Kim had protested against the latter, saying that her current pieces would more than suffice.
"A lady must have a trousseau," replied Renée firmly, espousing the French and newly fashionable trend of supplying a more elegant and luxurious set of linens for a woman about to be married. Lady Wendall agreed, but for different reasons.
"I know you don't think it necessary, my dear, but I think having the trappings will make you feel more at home with being a lady. The more completely we transform you, the more comfortable you will feel." Though not sure she wanted to be so fully changed, Kim at last acquiesced, more for Mairelon's sake than for her own.
It had proved the most excruciating experiences of all; even more painful than being dressed without consultation by Renée and Lady Wendall was having them eye her speculatively and make veiled comments as to their presumptions about Mairelon's preferences for the fabric and style of her underthings. Renée, in particular, seemed to have taken to the idea that Mairelon's tastes would run to the elegant yet adventurous, and her comments drove Kim to a constant, near-painful blush as she imagined the circumstances in which he would see each of the items they purchased. Thankfully, these fittings could at least take place in the privacy of her bedchamber with a visiting seamstress, rather than in a public shop as had the dress fittings for her coming out ball.
Even when the trousseau was completed (shifts and stockings in luxurious silks that Kim would not be allowed to wear until the wedding day, bed linens to be likewise set aside for the servants to put on the bed in their honeymoon residence), the ordeal was not yet over.
"One requires a chest in which to keep the trousseau, my dear," mentioned Renée idly late one morning when the last of the fittings had been completed. Kim sighed with exasperation but knew better than to object. "Besides," Renée continued, "I 'ave been meaning to speak to you about a rather delicate subject. This will give us an opportunity to get away from the stuffy types." Intrigued, Kim agreed that they would go shopping alone when she could make the time.
In between these less-than-interesting activities, Kim continued her magical studies with her bridegroom and others he brought in to supervise specific aspects of her education. Though her Latin and Greek were far from fluent, she began to feel confident with creating spells to accomplish specific tasks as well as analyzing spells and enchanted objects that Mairelon brought home. Though Mairelon continued to do more advanced research at the Royal College of Wizardry, he began bringing Kim along to assist in his experiments in the labs. Then, when he moved to more theoretical areas of research, she took classes in history and law from one of Shoreham's assistants, attempting to squeeze the basics of the college's years of classes into a shortened and more practical course.
The afternoon following her final fitting, she had agreed to assist him in finding references to a particular spell in a series of large and heavy tomes with miniscule lettering.
"So why isn't there a spell for this?" she wondered aloud. "If there could be a spell for finding books within a library, why can't there be a spell for finding words within a book?"
"Ah, good question, my dear," Mairelon said, adopting his lecturing tone. "You've seen the standard scrying spell, so you know its limitations," he paused, inviting Kim to fill in what she knew.
"You can use it to find a unique object or person, but not to find a series of similar things. Once you've found the object, you can only shift the viewpoint a little without destabilizing the spell, and if you're using an object as a focus it can only be used while the association is fresh."
"Very good. Now the spell that Mannering gave Starnes to find the books in Andrew's collection was put together very differently, but it has the same restrictions – there isn't any way to limit the area of the search beyond the physical location of the caster, and each object had to be unique. It was really a series of smaller spells cobbled together into one, each finding a specific book, not a spell designed to find a series of books which were all the same in some way."
"But it would be more efficient to search for things which had something in common, wouldn't it?"
"Indeed it would, but there isn't a commonly known way to do it. The problem is that it's too difficult to define the similarities. The magic goes everywhere, so if one is too broad, the result is too large to be useful, whereas if one is too specific the result misses things out. The only exception is the archives at the Royal College. Somehow," here his voice lost the lecturing tone and became curious, "they have made it possible to search the text of the collection for specific words. But the spell is kept very secret. Only Kerring and his apprentices know it, and they are sworn to absolute secrecy."
"Why? What could it hurt to share it?"
"I've often wondered that myself. But no one knows except Kerring and the others, and perhaps the head of the college." He shrugged, then drew his attention back to the task at hand. "But nonetheless, it is an ability we do not have. Back to work, apprentice mine." Kim sighed and bent over the book again.
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Between Mairelon's lessons and Lady Wendall's tutorials on running a household, Kim thought her mind might burst with all the knowledge being shoved into it. With that dubious thought, she boarded the carriage with Renée D'Auber the following day, wondering what the French woman's "delicate subject" could possibly be. No sooner had the doors closed than Renée broached the subject of her concern.
"'Ow much do you know about…" she paused, searching for the appropriate phrase, "the activities of the marriage bed?" Kim froze and flushed, then reined in her irritation and gave the question some serious thought.
"I know enough. Living on the streets don't tend to make someone too sheltered."
"While I am sure you are well aware of the…" Renée paused delicately, "mechanics of the situation, I am referring primarily to the ways of romance. The little feminine arrows we ladies 'ave in our arsenal. Not tricks," she continued hastily, seeing Kim's face screw up in disapproval of the type of fluttering female she'd come across so often during her come-out season. "M. Merrill is not the person for such games. But there are certain things a lady must know about how to deal with a gentleman. They are such strange creatures. So inconveniently touchy about some things." Kim smiled, remembering Renée's scheme to reconcile Mairelon and his brother Andrew when they'd fallen out over the suspicion that Mairelon had stolen the Saltash set. The French woman had seemed to regard the whole situation with a tone of fond irritation.
"It is a simple matter to do one's best to avert such displays of poor humor," Renée continued, "and to, hmmm, retain the mystique of the bedchamber. Now you are young and beautiful, that is all well and good, but someday, ah someday…"
Kim's attention was effectively caught and she spent the rest of the ride committing Renée's tips to memory. Despite her dislike for putting on a mask, these ideas were somehow more palatable, perhaps due to the fact that they were more compromise than falsehood, or perhaps due to the fact that their ultimate goal included her own, as well as Mairelon's, pleasure.
When they alighted from the carriage into the furniture shop, Kim was already beginning to think of ways to put Renée's comments into practice, and distractedly brushed against a large, tall gentleman exiting past her. He muttered a hurried apology and strode on.
"'Ow rude," commented Renée, and Kim drew herself from her musings with difficulty.
"Hmmm?" she queried.
"Nothing," Renée dismissed it. "Merely a distraction. Come along, then."
Once inside the shop, the atmosphere of opulence overwhelmed Kim. Large pieces filled the floor, leaving only a few, very narrow, walkways in which they could move around. Smaller items filled every available surface, and astounded her in their variety. There were lush tablecloths, silver teapots and cups, marble basins, ornate teakwood cabinets, silk Chinese screens, pewter snuffboxes, writing desks, cozy chaise lounges, and more.
"May I help you?" An attentive but harried looking shop assistant stood off to one side of the door. At Renée's request, he directed them around the shop to look at a series of chests, most of which Renée rejected immediately. Of the remaining, one in particular caught Kim's eye. It was higher and not as wide as the others, but what drew her attention were the detailed and intricate carvings that covered every surface. Unusually, the carvings were not symmetrical; they seemed to begin at the bottom of the front panel where there was a symbol made up of a circle with a point at the center, superimposed by a half-circle, above a right-angled cross and a doubly-curved line.
Outward from this symbol spread a series of lines both straight and curved creating a sort of lattice on which more symbols were set, some of which Kim recognized from her studies but many of which were unfamiliar. The lines looked almost like they had grown of their own accord up the front of the chest and over the lid. The only place that wasn't completely covered was the plate which contained the keyhole, which was bare except for the plain carving "IOANNIS D."
"What can you tell me about this one?" asked Kim, curious.
"This is a much older piece with an uncertain history. We believe it dates back to at least 1575, and the carvings are so unusual they must have been designed by the original owner, who is, alas, unknown. The key is, unfortunately, missing, so the chest cannot be secured. It was purchased along with a number of other valuable items from the estate of Lord Winchester," and here Kim looked to Renée for commentary; evidently Lord Winchester had been respectable enough, for she nodded acceptingly.
"Many of these symbols are not familiar to me, but it might provide an interesting diversion for M. Merrill to examine," she commented. As Kim authorized the purchase, the clerk continued his smooth patter praising her taste and selection.
"This particular piece has been very popular the past few weeks. Why, we've had a young man in practically every day trying to get me to lower the price for him. But I prefer to sell to a better type of customer like yourself, madam." Kim mentally cringed at the clerk's fawning statements but allowed Renée to lead her from the shop without commenting after they arranged for delivery of the chest.
"That was unusual," remarked Kim as they climbed back into the carriage. "He was trying too hard to get rid of it. He could have raised the price after I showed an interest, but he didn't, even though he talked it up."
"He was probably weary of that young man bothering him about it." Renée dismissed Kim's suspicions. "Young men are very tiresome."
Unconvinced, Kim resolved to bring the matter up with Mairelon that afternoon. But when they returned to the house, she was immediately drafted by Lady Wendall to sit in on discussions about wedding invitations, and the matter disappeared from her mind as the day wore on. The chest arrived and was duly filled with linens and undergarments and set aside with the other items to be packed for the honeymoon. When she glimpsed it in the course of her daily activities, Kim no longer remembered her suspicions about the clerk who had sold it to her, and thought instead only of the possibilities it symbolized.
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The wedding went off without a hitch and embodied every fairy tale or play Kim could have imagined. Throughout, Kim felt as if she were floating outside her body, watching it all happen to someone else, like a play. But somehow she found her way through without forgetting any of her lines, or tripping over her gown, and Mairelon, though professing disdain for the process, looked at her with delight in his eyes as she walked down the aisle.
That night, Kim was skittish and nervous – though she trusted Mairelon with her life, she was still afraid to be vulnerable, and even more afraid of disappointing him. With shaking hands, she removed her dress and corset, then stood, trembling, in her chemise as he similarly undressed. Tenderly, he kissed her and stroked her hair until she clung dizzily around his neck. When he paused, nervously gazing into her eyes as if seeking confirmation of her desire, she boldly slid away, no longer afraid, and beckoned him to the bed.
They spent the honeymoon in Bath, taking the waters and visiting various friends from Mairelon's school days and covering all manner of conversational topics. Kim most enjoyed hearing the absurd stories that Mairelon, laughing, attempted to keep his friends from sharing. But they also discussed magic and history, and visited a number of country estates with expansive vistas and ornate gardens. At one, Kim saw a chest similar to the one she'd purchased for their own home, and took the opportunity to ask about it.
"Oh, yes, madam" said the housekeeper, "That was brought to the family as part of the dowry of Lady Penelope, the great grandmother of the current Lord Hestin. It had been in her family for a century – you can see the date here, in the carvings." She pointed to an ornate representation of the year, 1573, scrolled across the bottom of the piece.
"I wonder how old ours is," Kim thought aloud. "I didn't see a date, but the carvings were much more complicated than these."
"We'll have Andrew investigate it when we return to London. His hobby is antique furniture and he can go on for hours about a particular piece." Kim smiled to think of the excessively reserved Andrew getting excited by a table or a set of chairs and made a mental note to ask him about it when they returned to London. Andrew had been nothing but supportive of his brother's marriage, but with him being the elder and more restrained brother, Kim seldom knew what to talk about when they were thrown together. She'd heard more than her fair share of humorous anecdotes about Mairelon's childhood that way, though, like the story of the time he had climbed onto the roof of the stable to examine birds' nests and fallen straight into the pig sty.
"I'm sure he'll have some fascinating story about a time where you got your head caught in your mother's headboard," she teased, and laughed at the good-natured frustration on his face as they caught up to the housekeeper, who had moved on to the portrait gallery. Mairelon's mouth turned up into a smirk that promised she'd get her own share of teasing once they were alone.
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On their return to London, Kim was once again reminded of the chest and its strange attraction. Only a week after they'd been reinstalled in the townhouse, they returned from a session of experiments at the Royal College of Wizardry to find the house in uproar.
Hunch led them down to the servants' parlour with an explanation.
"Apparently Mrs. Milligan surprised the new footman in your room going through that new chest with Mrs. Merrill's personal items, but they can't get 'im to say why 'e did it."
Mairelon was equally puzzled. "I can't imagine why he'd have chosen that, of all things, to pike off with. The chest itself is too heavy to take and while the linens are of good quality, I would have expected he'd go for the silver or something similar."
Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Kim caught a glimpse of a young man she did not recognize glaring darkly at the housekeeper as Harry and another footman held him rather firmly by the arms. Lady Wendall stood impatiently in front of him with a hard look on her face.
"If you'd only cooperate, things will go much more easily for you, young man. Oh, Richard!" she exclaimed as they entered. "Perhaps you can talk some sense into this… person, though I doubt it."
And indeed her prediction was correct. For all Mairelon's questioning and Kim's shrewd guessing, he kept his silence, and was eventually taken away by the local constabulary. The housekeeper could only contribute that his references had been verifiable, and that while none of the other servants had particularly liked him, he'd been quiet and kept to himself. He'd only worked for them since slightly before Mairelon and Kim's marriage, but this was the first occurrence of anything unusual.
Kim could not help but see a connection.
"He was hired here right after I bought that chest he was going through," she commented to Mairelon as they retired upstairs. "And we've had it with us for the past month, so this would be the first opportunity for him to get time alone with it. I noticed when I bought it that there was something strange, too. The clerk seemed too eager to get rid of the thing."
"Well, perhaps we ought to take a closer look at your intriguing purchase," said Mairelon, and Kim smiled, relieved that he was at least taking her seriously. But an examination of the chest did not reveal anything unusual, either physically or magically. There appeared to be no hidden compartments or spells in the wood. The only unique aspects of the chest were its carvings, which even Mairelon could make no sense of.
"This is a job for Kerring," he eventually declared, referring to the archivist at the College, "who is a far better scholar than I. Let us make a copy of as much of this as we can manage, and tomorrow we can visit and get his opinion." Kim agreed, and after several hours of copying the intricate network of lines and curves, they retired.
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The following morning, Kim and Mairelon made their way through the maze of corridors leading to the archives at the Royal College of Wizards. Bypassing the short, brown-haired apprentice at the main doorway, Mairelon somehow managed to find his way to Kerring's office without obviously counting the identical doors along the hallway. The office was, as usual, filled with tall shelves overflowing with papers, books, and unusual objects, so that the path from the doorway was an obstacle course made immensely more difficult by Kim's feminine attire. The exceptionally untidy Lord Kerring looked up as they entered.
"Ah, Merrill! What sort of interesting insanity have you landed in this time? More mysterious books?" Kerring's overgrown hair shook as he tilted his head expectantly, eyes twinkling.
"Not books, this time, Kerring," said Mairelon good-naturedly. "Kim seems to have acquired a piece of furniture that someone is taking an undue interest in. As far as we can tell, it's a late 16th century chest with some unusual carvings. Perhaps you could take a look?" Mairelon drew out their painstaking diagrams of the chest's inscriptions and passed them across the desk. Kerring studied the pages, slowly flipping through them.
"Aside from the obvious zodiacal symbols, some of these do look vaguely familiar. If I recall, they were never in wide use. They were invented by one of those mathematician-astrologer chaps, but his calculations never came to anything. Unfortunately, I don't remember who, but I'm sure we have some of his records here. Would you like me to see what I can find?"
Mairelon nodded, and Kerring disappeared behind the bookcase with the diagrams. "This central symbol seems likely," he continued, his voice muffled by the paper. "One moment."
"That spell you were telling me about, the modified scrying spell," Kim began softly, looking around at the chaos. Mairelon nodded. "Is it the only way they have of finding anything in this place? What a mess!" He laughed.
"I think they think the disorder is a security mechanism," he said, keeping his voice low.
Just then, Kerring returned with a peculiar list that Kim could not quite make out – each entry consisted of two symbols and a number, apparently indicating the location within the catacomb-like archives of individual books that contained the symbol on the chest. There were only five items on the list; Kim could not decide whether to be pleased that so little reading had to be done, or displeased that the symbol promised to be an exceedingly elusive one.
Mairelon and Kerring began to weave their way through the archives in search of the particular books they needed. Kim, declining to wind through cramped, dusty, and dark rooms, settled herself at an only semi-covered table in an adjoining room. The archivist's footsteps only slowly died away, the sound carrying back through the open doorways and cramped stacks to Kim's table. She spread out the pages of diagrams and examined them again, more closely.
"IOANNIS D" once again caught her eye. Was this meant to signify a name, or some other combination of initials? "Ioannis" seemed to indicate a name, but why give the first name and only the initial of the surname?
As Kim puzzled over the series of letters, another noise came to her attention - the sound of footsteps, decidedly different from Mairelon's or Lord Kerring's. As they came closer, a pair of voices joined them. She recognized one as the apprentice who had admitted them to the archives.
"I'm sorry, sir, but I've done all I can. Are you sure you've read all the documents closely?" This was the apprentice.
"Of course I've bloody well read them, you imbecile. I've read everything three times over. What I need is not more bloody reading material! I need the key." Kim didn't recognize this voice, but sensed the tone of desperation it held.
"There isn't anything more I can do to help you, sir, I promise you. If it isn't within the archives, I cannot find it for you. Have you tried scrying?"
"Do I look like a simpleton?" the voice raged. "Scrying doesn't work. It must be protected. The great Doctor John Dee would not leave such a thing to chance. And now it's in the hands of that bloody Merrill," Here he began to mumble, but Kim sat up straight as if she'd been hit with a lightning bolt. Doctor Dee? The coincidence would have been unbelievable if she weren't already aware of Mairelon's bizarre propensity to attract strange happenings. But before she could do more than boggle at the situation, the voice was raised again.
"I know you are hiding it from me. It belongs to me by virtue of my pedigree! But no one accepts me. It is a conspiracy! You archivists and your secret spells. You must be able to find the key for me!"
The apprentice's reply was somewhat fearful. "I swear to you, sir, I cannot. The spell simply does not work that way."
"Liar!" By this point, Kim was on her feet and moving in the direction of the voices, but given the cramped and maze-like qualities of the rooms, she had difficulty discerning exactly where they were coming from.
"Liar!" the angry voice continued. "You are keeping it from me! I will have the key!" The voice continued to rage incoherently, not quite drowning out the apprentice's fearful protestations.
"I swear to you sir, on my honour, it simply cannot be done. Unhand me, sir!"
At this last, Kim rounded a corner into a long, dark room full of over-filled shelves. At the far end, she could faintly see the two figures struggling – the short, slight apprentice and the taller, bulky gentleman who had pinned him against the wall. As they struggled, the taller man's rantings ceased and he fell silent, panting. Kim's running footsteps echoed in the space and he turned, catching sight of her approach. Frantically, he shoved the smaller man to the floor, his head catching a table with a sickening crack. Not stopping, the taller man fled to a side door and exited into the larger corridor. By the time Kim arrived at the far end of the room, he had disappeared along the hallway.
Rather than chase after the attacker, Kim knelt and examined the apprentice, who was unconscious and bleeding from the head. She tore a strip of cloth from her chemise and used it to bandage his head, but was reluctant to do any more. Thankfully, just then Mairelon arrived, followed by a puffing Lord Kerring, who appeared to have run all the way from the other end of the College.
"What happened?" Mairelon asked, concerned, as he raised the apprentice's head and began to examine him. Kim quickly explained the conversation she'd overheard, omitting the connection between the object of the attacker's interest and the chest they had come to investigate. Mairelon's glance told her he knew she was leaving something out, but he let it pass. Exclaiming, Kerring slipped into the hall to summon a physician, but returned before Mairelon could question her.
When the physician arrived and the apprentice was carefully taken away, Kerring led the two of them back to his office and solemnly poured three glasses of brandy. Kim had little experience with spirits and carefully took only a few sips of hers, more than enough to restore her color. She was surprised, however, to see Lord Kerring drain his glass down without the slightest care.
"And now, Mrs. Merrill," Kerring said, giving her an acute glance, "perhaps you would be good enough to give us the whole story."
Surprised at the old man's acumen, Kim glanced at Mairelon for confirmation before beginning her tale in full. When she'd finished, the two older wizards exchanged a thoughtful glance.
"Interesting," mused Kerring, "and unfortunate that you didn't manage to see his face. I think that what he seeks and what you have are indeed one and the same. But there must be more to it than that. You said you've examined the thing thoroughly."
"When I say a thing, I mean it," said Mairelon pointedly, his pride injured. "I performed all the standard analysis spells and even some I picked up from Edward last year. The thing is just a chest. There's nothing to find." Kerring made a soothing gesture.
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you did. I don't doubt you. But what about the stone?"
"Surely you don't believe it exists, Kerring! It's a myth. And our mysterious attacker is obviously deranged. From Kim's description he seemed quite unhinged."
"Wait a minute, what stone?" queried Kim, impatiently. Once again Mairelon seemed to be ten steps ahead of her.
"Ah, yes, my apologies. One of the books we came across indicated," and here he pulled the third volume from the stack Lord Kerring had set on the corner of his desk, "that the chest most likely belonged to Doctor John Dee, an alchemist who was obsessed with the philosopher's stone, a sort of mythological cure-all that could convert lead into gold and grant eternal life. Of course, he's dead, so we know he never succeeded in creating one." Mairelon smirked and Kim's stomach curled up with pleasure. He slipped into his lecturing tone of voice.
"The symbol on the chest is what he termed the 'monas heiroglyphica' or the hieroglyphic monad, a symbol which represented the universe both as a whole and as an essence which could be invoked in specific ways to great results. He believed this symbol held the secret to creating the stone, but that's about as far as I got into the manuscript before we were so rudely interrupted."
"A succinct description if ever I heard one, Merrill," commented Lord Kerring. "And though you may not think it exists, our mysterious attacker obviously does. Grant me, just for the sake of argument, that he might be right, and that it might be hidden in that chest of yours." Mairelon nodded reluctantly. "If it does exist, it would be immensely valuable. We cannot afford to take the chance that it is there, somehow, and that it could be stolen or found by someone else. You must find the key, if it exists, and the stone." Kim also nodded in agreement. She didn't want to imagine the consequences of a violent madman running around with the power of eternal life. "I think first you will need to replicate his analysis of the texts. Unless he said anything to make it clearer?" He glanced at Kim and shook her head, resigned to several weeks of hard reading.
"To that end," Kerring continued in a long-suffering tone, "I am prepared to let you take temporary possession of these titles, with your assurance that they will be well-protected. I hope I can be assured that you have enhanced your wards since the attempted burglary last season." Kim snorted at Kerring's extravagant concern for his books but blushed when both men looked at her.
After a questioning look that turned to amusement, Mairelon returned his attention to the archivist. "Of course, of course. Terribly kind of you."
Kerring's eyes twinkled, but then he abruptly sobered. "Do be careful. We've already seen that this person can be dangerous. If and when Robert wakes, we will be able to take action against the man responsible, but the physician has advised me that it is unlikely he will for quite some time."
Mairelon nodded solemnly and, after meeting Kerring's eyes, Kim did the same, despite thinking that she could well defend herself. Rising, Kerring bowed to each of them, and a moment later they were seeing themselves out with a last "and keep me up to date" ringing in their ears.
As Mairelon assisted her into the carriage, Kim gave vent to her rather confused thoughts in an attempt to sum up what they had learned, slipping into her old ways of speech in her agitation.
"So, this loony thinks we have some sort of glim stone hidden away in that chest, and that somewhere there's a key that will allow him to get at it." Mairelon nodded, his eyes far away. "Supposing he's the flash cull that was hanging about the shop trying to buy the thing in the first place. According to the clerk, he hadn't got the ready, so he just kept coming back to peep at it. Then we snaffled it, and he's lost his chance. So he got that footman to try and mill the ken, yeah? Then he threatens this kid to try and find the key. And we know he's a wizard himself, right, cos he said he'd done the scrying spell, and he said it was his deservedly cos of his family." Mairelon nodded at each of her points but wouldn't look her in the eye. "So," she finished, "we have a cleaned out, toff wizard who's dicked in the nob and thinks we've got a magicked boulder that doesn't exist. Does that about fit the bill?"
Mairelon laughed despite his preoccupation. "Just about. And since there are any number of penniless gentlemen who might fit the description, we are at a bit of a standstill in that direction." In the privacy of the carriage, he looked up and paused as if seeking the right words. "I wouldn't want to forget to say how terribly brave you were this morning." Kim's faced heated under his scrutiny but she held his eyes. "I can't say I'm terribly pleased, however, with your tendency to run towards conflict rather than away from it, however." She opened her mouth to protest. "Nonetheless," he rode over her objections, "I shan't tell you not to. He stroked her face gently. "But let us continue our promises to each other not to do anything goose-witted without consultation. We can muck it all up together if we must." Kim nodded, pleased by both his concern though not by the suggestion that she couldn't take care of herself.
"I suppose this is merely another symptom of my lack of respectability," he continued, lightly, and Kim laughed with pleasure.
"Respectability is overrated," she replied, and they enjoyed the ride home in a peaceful silence.
-----
The following weeks were filled with research. Kim's knowledge of history and alchemy expanded dramatically while they focused almost exclusively on the diagrams carved on the chest. They discovered that the parts of the symbol stood for the important elements of the universe – the circle was the sun, around the point, representing the earth. The semi-circle represented the moon (the arc being symbolic of the face of the moon which constantly reflects the sun's light) and the cross the earth (the meeting point of the two lines being the "copulative center"). The wavy lines at the bottom of the symbol made up the zodiacal sign Aries, which symbolized fire. Taken as whole, the symbol was meant to encompass the soul, or the essence of the universe.
The greater carvings seemed to represent a sort of method by which the hieroglyphic monad might be derived from various physical substances and systems. The chest was divided into four parts according to the four grades – "esse, vivere, sentire et entelligere (to be, to live, to feel and to comprehend)." To be was represented by alchemy and the study of physical objects; to live by the study of the human body and its four humors; to feel by the study of "celestial astronomy" or, more properly, astrology; to comprehend by the study of theology and God's word. Within each of these sections, the lines indicated a series of steps to be taken to derive the shape of the monad from the source materials.
Among all this information, only briefly was the philosopher's stone mentioned, though it was given as the pinnacle of understanding for Dee's readers: "it is the medicine of the soul, the liberator from all suffering, and is prepared for those who wish for it and as he has taught; it is to be sought for in the Voice of the Creator of the Universe" and, later, "who, then, is not now able to procure the sweet and salutary fruits of this Science?"
Mairelon and Kim were baffled. "Sounds like it's just as much blether as truth," commented Kim sagely, when they'd gone through Dee's manuscript several times. "And no reference to a key at all! Where's our bufflehead getting his ideas?"
Mairelon was reluctant to admit defeat. "Perhaps there's something in one of his other works that would tell us something. We owe Kerring an update in any case; tomorrow we can stop in and see if he has any advice." Kim looked down at the books again, worried that her purchase had put them in danger and frustrated that they seemed no closer to understanding the mystery of the chest than they'd ever been.
Their musings were interrupted by the arrival of Renée D'Auber, who swept in imperiously. Kim looked up, pleased. She'd come to like Renée in spite of her feelings of inadequacy in the presence of the other woman. For all Renée's elegance and grace in society, she was surprisingly no-nonsense when it came to those she trusted.
"Ah, Renée!" Mairelon greeted her warmly. "Perhaps you can be of help to us." The French woman sighed, exasperated, and Kim interrupted her husband.
"It is good to see you," she said pointedly, and Mairelon hurried to say the same. Renée smiled.
"It is of all things the most pleasant to see you both as well. But do not keep me in suspense. What is it for which you need my assistance?"
Mairelon explained the situation – the strange interest in the trunk, the conversation Kim had witnessed, and the results of their researches. Renée, unfortunately, had nothing to contribute.
"I have heard of this Doctor Dee, but what I know is less than what you have told me." She shook her head apologetically. "I cannot help you." Kim was not really surprised; the man was an obscure Welsh alchemist who apparently hadn't achieved anything in particular except writing a number of bizarre manuscripts that made no sense in the context of what was known about magic today.
Mairelon shrugged, expressing her thought. "I didn't really expect any more, but thank you, Renée. I suppose we shall have to muddle along on our own. Perhaps Kerring will have some other suggestions. But what is it that brings you by?"
"Well," she replied, "I have just the thing to take your minds off these strange circumstances. I will be having a bureau d'esprit, of magique and philosophie. It will be of all things most entertaining, and your heads will be clearer for having been exposed to the air. You both spend too much of the time in this library." All of this was said with the utmost firmness, as if she could not imagine an argument. Kim and Mairelon exchanged a glance.
"What, precisely, is a bureau d'esprit?" asked Kim, whose French had improved in pronunciation but not understanding. Renée was not quite the type to hold balls or frivolous parties, but Kim didn't fancy being trapped in a room without knowing what she'd be getting herself into.
"It is a party of a sort, yes, but not for dancing or socializing," Renée said, correctly anticipating Kim's concerns. "There is generally a topic, and the hostess chooses magiquistes to speak on the different aspects, and then there is a discussion. I promise you will not be as bored as you fear, my friend." With a smile, Kim nodded her agreement as Mairelon accepted the invitation.
-----
The bureau, or salon, that Renée held later that week was indeed an exciting interlude to the otherwise unprofitable week of research, but not precisely for the reasons she intended. During the first hour, as people arrived and greeted each other, the same few steps were repeated by the company. A new person or group would arrive, immediately be hailed by several people in the room, and join one of the multiple conversations taking place. This would cause a wave of chaos as members of the company already assembled lost interest in their current companions and drifted apart. Each time, their conversation partner would be drawn away, either by his own interest or by another guest, and Kim and Mairelon would be joined by someone new. Often this would be a gentleman who was one of Mairelon's many acquaintances, and they would rapidly descend into an intricate discussion of some artifact or spell. At the beginning of the conversation, Kim would listen eagerly, asking questions or, rarely, giving her opinion, but eventually there would come a point at which the conversation would continue past her level of understanding and become tiresome.
At these moments, rather than interrupt her husband, who, Kim thought, was utterly charming when he was engaged and excited, she would subtly cast her eye about the room and study members of the company as they conversed. It came as little surprise to her that some wizards were as capable of a senseless interest in social activity as the non-magical members of the quality. One wizard, who Kim knew to be the third son of the Earl of Wickersham, currently in his fourth year of magical studies, pontificated to an audience of increasingly uninterested and scornful listeners, one of whom, she noted, was having difficulty keeping himself from saying something scathing about the young man's logic. Of course, other wizards were even less socially apt than Mairelon; while Renée greeted guests at the door, a very young-looking gentleman kept trying to get her attention to ask some question about a book he seemed to have pulled from her shelves.
After a few minutes, Mairelon would have discovered that Kim was no longer contributing to the conversation, realized the reason for her distraction, and tactfully attempted to change the topic, drawing Kim's attention back to him with a careful squeeze of his hand on her arm. Not much longer after that, cries of excitement would greet a new arrival and the cycle would repeat.
On a few occasions, the person desirous of their company was an unknown, and was generally accompanied by a mutual friend to perform introductions. The first such was a credulous young student of magic eager to hear stories of their "adventures." Mairelon regarded the young man with amused tolerance, but cautioned the young man to gain some experience before doing anything rash. He was apparently typical of the sort of person Mairelon attracted, for the next few gentlemen who begged an introduction were much the same. Right before the discussion was to begin, however, they were hailed by a friendly but none-too-bright student who Mairelon had come to know through a lecture he'd given at the college; the young man had apparently been asked to introduce his friend to the couple.
The friend, a Mr. Isaac Nash, was large both in width and in height, with small, hard eyes softened by the determinedly pleasant look on his face. Something about him nagged at Kim's attention, but it was when he finally spoke that her curious brain made the connection.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Merrill, Mrs. Merrill. I have heard so much about you both." Kim stiffened imperceptibly but managed to keep her indignation in check. It was he, the man she'd overheard in the archives, who had attacked the apprentice and who they suspected was behind the attempted theft of the chest. What gall the man had.
Thinking quickly, however, she decided against confrontation. It might be easier to find out what he knew about the chest if he was unaware of their suspicions. Carefully, she murmured the appropriate pleasantries while endeavoring to look as brainless as possible. Beside her, Mairelon raised his eyebrow inquisitively but otherwise did nothing to call attention to her unusual behavior. He and Nash, who revealed himself to be a second year magical student tutored by one of the more absent-minded professors, entered into a light conversation about the quality of the equipment in the laboratories at the Royal College. Kim resigned herself to smiling pleasantly at each of Nash's not-particularly-interesting assertions while silently filing away anything she thought important.
Just at that moment, however, Renée drew the assembled company's attention to the area she had set up for the discussion, and Nash was obliged to break off the conversation.
"Perhaps I might be allowed to pay a call on you sometime this week, Mr. Merrill," he put forward silkily, "and ask your opinion on a particular project I am contemplating." Mairelon bowed and allowed as how that would be acceptable, and led Kim to the opposite side of the circle of chairs as the company came together.
"What was that all about?" he whispered urgently into Kim's ear, but she merely shook her head.
"Not here. Later," she mouthed back, mentally vowing to develop some sort of code for situations such as these in which they could not communicate freely.
The next few hours were a curious kind of torture for Kim; the discussion itself was fascinating and she would normally have hung on every word, but the back of her mind was busily working on the problem of Isaac Nash and his interest in Doctor Dee's chest. Thankfully, she wasn't yet advanced enough as a student to be expected to comment publicly in the proceedings, but Mairelon commented a number of times and Kim made sure to pay rapt attention while he was speaking. Just because she was preoccupied didn't mean he wouldn't quiz her later.
As they said goodbye to Renée later that evening and stepped into the carriage, Kim was more than eager to share her discovery. She held back, however, until they were firmly settled and the driver urged the horses forward, despite Mairelon's inquisitive stare.
"Nash was the toff in the archives," she said. "I recognized his voice." He sat back, thoughtful.
"I thought that must have been the case," he commented. "You did an admirable job of hiding the recognition. I think only a few of us who know you well would have noticed it." Kim smiled, pleased at the praise, then frowned at his next words. "So now we can inform Kerring and put this whole business behind us. A pity we likely shall not be there to see the bastard arrested."
Kim raised her voice in incredulous protest. "Have you no interest in finding out what he knows? What may be hidden in that chest, now that we've worked so hard and found so few answers? Aren't you curious?"
Mairelon shrugged, irritated. "Come now, Kim. There's nothing there. We've examined the thing so many times. I've run all the diagnostic spells and measured every aspect of it. There's no place to hide even a piece of paper, much less a piece of rock with mythical powers. And the man's obviously a loony." He seemed frustrated at her credibility.
"But what if, just what if, there's something to it?" Mairelon shook his head angrily. "Just grant me this," she rode over him, and he reluctantly nodded. "If there's something to his ravings, we'll never find it if they lock him up. He'll just keep mum and go after it again when they let him out. And they'd never authorize a truth spell on him for something like this." Mairelon nodded again, acknowledging the truth of her words. "So why not let him come to us and see if he'll spill what he knows? He doesn't know it was me that overheard him in the archives. He thinks we're in the dark."
Mairelon frowned. "But why go through all that for something we know isn't true?" Kim sighed exasperatedly.
"Just what's got you all a-tizzy about this stone, anyway? Why are you so sure it doesn't exist?"
He sighed. "When I first started studying magic, I thought it could do anything. We could solve all the world's problems with magic, if only people took the effort. But it doesn't work that way. There are some things that magic just cannot do. Keeping someone alive… is one of those things." Mairelon's eyes took on that faraway look and Kim felt uncomfortable. She'd obviously hit a nerve with the question. "It's a lesson I've never forgotten," he continued, raising his head, "and I don't want you to have to learn it the hard way. Death… comes to us all." Kim looked away, not meeting his eyes. She plowed onward.
"But what if you're wrong? This isn't about me wanting to stop death or be wildly rich. If it exists, it's a powerful weapon. Oughtn't we to do our best to keep it in the right hands? Can we afford to take the chance that Nash isn't as crazy as he seems?"
Mairelon opened his mouth, then closed it again as Kim continued, losing her temper with Mairelon's uncharacteristic arrogance. "And another thing – how can you be so sure that you know everything there is to know about this? You're as bad as Nash, thinking everyone's in a conspiracy to keep the stone from him, only you think everyone's just gullible and you're the only one with any sense. All in the face of what's right before your eyes. And then you assume I'm only interested in living forever like some cheap glory hound? You're acting like a heavy-handed prat!" By this point her chest was heaving with the effort of keeping her voice down.
"Are you quite finished dressing me down?" he inquired evenly, in the tone that usually meant he was holding onto his temper by a thin string. Kim nodded, prepared for an outburst.
"You're right," he surprised her by saying. "I apologise. I won't have you thinking that I mistrust your motives, for I don't in the least. I merely wanted to protect you from disappointment. But I see that I've gone about it all wrong. Can you forgive me?" Kim nodded, speechless.
"Tomorrow we'll go to Edward and tell him what we know," Mairelon continued, "and what we plan to do about it. Your idea of pretending to be innocent of the whole affair is a good one." Now calmer, Kim felt her stomach tighten in pleasure at the approval. "And I will try not to smother you in the aim of protecting you from Nash, if you will promise not to be alone with him. I know you can take care of yourself, but he's already shown he can be quite dangerous and even deadly." Kim agreed, glad to have reached a compromise, and settled back against the cushions.
Now," he interrupted her thoughts with an upraised finger, "what did you think of Stapleton's assertion about the primary focus of the language spell?" Kim sighed, exasperated but still smiling, and cudgeled her brains for a reminder of which one of them had been Stapleton and what, exactly, he'd been saying. Some things never changed.
----
Three days later the couple returned to the Horse Guards to meet with the Earl of Shoreham, who they'd asked to find out as much as possible about Nash's history and activities. Shoreham had frowned disapprovingly at the two of them as Mairelon summed up the activities that had kept them occupied in the weeks following their honeymoon, and their interest in stringing Nash along in search of information, but agreed to search his records.
"There's no keeping you out of trouble, Richard, is there?" he'd commented ruefully as they departed.
Now, returning, they found him seated pensively at his desk, fingers steepled together. As they were shown in, he looked up, gesturing to the couple to sit. Kim perched eagerly on the edge of her chair.
"I think there may be something to Nash's ravings," he began, not bothering with the ordinary pleasantries. "Let me begin with the family. I believe Isaac Nash to be a descendant of Edward Kelley, also known as Edward Talbot, who was Doctor Dee's assistant and, later, partner in the work on the Philosopher's Stone. Kelley is not known to have had any children, but as you know, records from that time are regretfully incomplete. Nash has asserted the relation to several young gentlemen, and it seems substantiated by his possession of a particular gold amulet engraved with a representation of one of Kelley's visions. The vision is documented clearly in one of Kelley's manuscripts and the amulet has been the object of some speculation as Nash recently offered it as collateral on a loan."
Kim nodded, taking in the information. The man's raving about pedigree and acceptance suddenly made sense.
Shoreham continued. "I don't know how much you may know about Kelley already, but let me cover the basics. During his association with Dee, Kelley claimed to have discovered two powders in the tomb of a Welsh Bishop, which would, when mixed with other ingredients, turn heated mercury into gold. There was also a manuscript, which supposedly gave the secret to creating these powders. Apparently these claims were accepted by Rudolf II of Bohemia, but not by Dee, who was, in his later years, convinced that he was receiving direct communications from the angels, and that the angel Uriel had revealed Kelley's assertions to be lies. As Kelley began to gain more favor, Dee broke off the association and returned to England. Later, when Kelley failed to continue his output of gold, he was imprisoned and eventually died in an escape attempt."
Both Mairelon and Kim nodded at this information, which meshed with the research they'd already done. Kelley and his powders had been mentioned, but only briefly.
"If these powders and the manuscript still exist, they have been lost to anyone who knows what they are, and I believe that if Nash thought they were valuable he'd be searching among Kelley's belongings, not Dee's, so we can dismiss them from consideration. Still, the connection between the two men must be significant. But as to how, that I do not know."
Kim sat back, considering. Mairelon broke the silence. "Nash must have some sort of information that we don't have. If he has Kelley's amulet, he likely has other objects. I wonder if we might--"
"No burgling, Richard!" interrupted the Earl sharply. "I've got him under surveillance but I won't have you doing anything rash just because you fancy you can solve a mystery. You had entirely too much fun at Bramingham Place last year and I'm afraid you've a taste for it."
Mairelon huffed indignantly, looking hurt. "I wasn't thinking anything of the sort, Edward. I was only wondering the best way to draw it out of him. He asked permission to call on us, you know, and I couldn't very well say no." As Shoreham placated his friend, Kim had to suppress a grin. She'd bet her boots that the Earl's assessment had been dead on the mark. Mairelon never did have any sense when it came to a chance for larking about.
Having extracted a promise from them both not to seek out Nash and giving, in turn, a promise to keep them up to date on anything he discovered, Shoreham showed the two out.
Upon their return to the house, they set to work preparing the charade. The chest was moved to the library and placed casually in the corner where it was filled with loose papers from Kim's magical studies. Since Nash seemed to be unaware that Kim was the one who had interrupted his attack in the archives, they decided to play as if the chest were merely a bauble that Kim had fancied, and that they were completely unaware that there was anything special about it. Perhaps, then, they could lead him into revealing potentially relevant information.
-----
Several days passed during which Mairelon and Kim continued their regular activities. They visited Renée to update her on what they had discovered, and she informed them that Nash had apparently swindled the invitation from the young student who'd brought him by cheating at cards. Other that than tidbit of information, nothing of interest came to their attention, and the couple passed the time in continuing Kim's studies and working on other magical projects.
The following Tuesday, Nash finally paid his promised call. At first the conversation was thoroughly unexceptionable; the three of them covered the weather and the most recent magical innovations from the Royal College, and both men shared a number of humorous stories about Nash's tutor, known to be one of the most absent-minded and prone to forgetting the names of his tutees. From there, talk turned to magical studies.
"I confess, sir, that the purpose of my visit was not entirely social," said Nash, surprising them both. "I had hoped to get your opinion on a manuscript I had the good fortune to come across, but which I have had little success in understanding."
Kim and Mairelon exchanged a surprised glance; would Nash have been so bold and brainless as to bring his valuable information to them, even assuming they knew nothing about the chest? Apparently so, thought Kim, restraining herself from an eye roll as, given Mairelon's expression of interest, Nash brought forth a tattered sheaf of papers from his coat.
At a closer look, the papers were revealed to be a reproduction of a Latin manuscript interspersed with an English translation. The manuscript was not very long, and seemed to consist of several sections set apart by square pieces of artwork. With Nash's permission, Mairelon spread the pages out on the table and scanned through them. Kim bent over the table as well while Nash stood behind them both.
"As you can see, it appears to be an illustrated poem of some sort," Nash continued, "and I have reason to believe the words contain a reference to a sort of hidden object. Yet I cannot puzzle out the riddle. You have a reputation for being somewhat… flexible in your thinking." Kim and Mairelon exchanged another look. How were they to react to Nash's request? He was a dangerous attacker, yet it hardly seemed right to continue their charade of ignorance when he seemed to be honestly asking for their help.
"Well," said Mairelon cautiously, "I'm certainly willing to take a look. This does seem a bit familiar in some way." He crossed the room to pull down a book from the shelf, and a moment later Kim's qualms about taking advantage of Nash's lack of sense were ripped away by the press of a pistol into her side and a thick arm around her neck.
"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you not to move, Mrs. Merrill," Nash said calmly, but loud enough to cause Mairelon to turn in confusion. His expression quickly turned to anger once he'd taken in the situation.
"I see," was all he said.
"Do you?" inquired Nash menacingly. "Good. I believe we can come to a mutually satisfactory agreement. Your young lady and I will just stay right here for a bit while you pack up that chest you've got over there in the corner and my notes. You can take it out to the carriage and we'll be on our way. I'll be happy to let the lady go once we get sufficiently far away, and we all get what we want." He pulled her even closer.
Kim was finding it hard to breathe with Nash's arm pressing against her neck. She swallowed hard but met Mairelon's eyes evenly. Suddenly, his heavy-handedness about her safety seemed less objectionable.
"Alright. Alright." His voice broke. "I'll cooperate." Mairelon knelt by the chest and began removing Kim's papers from it carefully.
Nash's voice showed his satisfaction with Mairelon's compliance.
"You people with your money and your whims, you know nothing!" he crowed. "You'll lose out to a smarter man any day. Your wife took a fancy to this chest, but she didn't know what it was truly worth. It's mine by rights. By the rights of spiritual inheritance. I am his true son, his only worthy son." Mairelon carefully continued moving papers as Nash began to rant, but he caught Kim's eye and gave her a reassuring, if shaky, smile.
"I am the only one to know his powers," Nash continued. "Soon, soon I will find the key, and then I will live forever!" He rambled in the same vein for several minutes, jerking Kim from side to side in his fervor. "I will be the true savior. I am the incarnation!" The movement allowed Kim to breathe more easily, and as she shifted her weight, she could see Mairelon's left arm moving in a circular motion as his right continued to unload the contents of the chest. Faintly, the feeling of magic in the room began to build. A moment later the sensation was unmistakable.
"What are you doing?" Nash stopped ranting. "You think you can trick me? You, who were so easily outwitted? Pfah!" Forgetting himself, he waved the pistol dismissively in Mairelon's direction.
As he did so, Kim ducked, grabbing onto the edge of the table and using it as leverage to pull her head down and out of the reach of Nash's crooked arm. Only a moment later, Mairelon finished his spell, his voice rising to a shout with the final Greek words. Nash's grab for Kim's arm was abruptly cut short as his body contorted in pain. He let out a strangled cry. Kim ducked behind the heavy library table, hoping Mairelon had the sense to do the same. She lifted one of the chairs and swung it by the legs around the edge of the table, sweeping the still-curled Nash off his feet. She ducked again and heard the pistol hit the floor with a heavy clang.
Only a few seconds later the library door burst open. Kim looked cautiously over the rim of the table to see Mairelon training the pistol on Nash, motionless on the floor, while Hunch stood in the doorway with an incredulous look on his face.
"Some ropes, Hunch, if you would be so kind," Mairelon said, breathing heavily, his eyes not leaving Kim's attacker. Kim stayed well out of the way as Hunch carefully bound the man and sent for the constables.
When Nash had been thoroughly restrained, despite his continuing unconsciousness, Mairelon carefully set the pistol on the table and, trembling, gathered Kim into his arms. Now that the danger had passed, reaction set in for both of them, and they clung together as he stroked her hair. After a long moment, Kim stepped back and gathered herself together. "Well," she said lightly, "that's one less thing to worry about."
-----
Before the constables took Nash away, Mairelon carefully searched his pockets, pulling out another manuscript with both a Latin script and an English translation, and asked Hunch to send for Kerring, Shoreham, and Renée. After Nash had been hauled off, Kim and Mairelon began to pore over the papers, and by the time the others arrived, they'd concluded that the first manuscript consisted of nineteen separate sections, divided by the strange miniature pieces of artwork. The second was all one long document consisting primarily of dialogue between Dee and the angel Uriel, but also included some descriptive passages.
"I should remember, in the future, to put my foot down with you, Richard," said the Earl of Shoreham after they all had gathered at the library table and heard the whole story. "I never imagined you could get into so much trouble in your own home!"
Renée laughed. "M. Merrill can get into trouble anywhere. He is positively a magnet for it." She sobered. "But still, it was a great chance you took, both of you. I hope you will be careful in the future. For it is sure you will continue to have the adventures."
Heads nodded all around and Kim was touched by their concern.
"Nonetheless, good thinking by the both of you," said Shoreham approvingly. "But now I think I should like to take a look at this manuscript. I do hope it does not disappoint."
The pages were spread out down the table and each wizard began to read a different section. Several minutes later, Kerring lifted his head.
"I think this is, perhaps, the key reference we've been missing." He cleared his throat. "'In the name of Jesus Christ crucified upon the Cross, I say the Spirit writes these things rapidly through me; I hope, and I believe, I am merely the quill which traces these characters, the ultimate and eternal key to opening the casket.' He follows this with a list of objects – vessels of clay and glass, grindings of 'lamels of beryl, carbuncles, precious rubies, artificial unperforated pearls, chrysolite,' etc. What an odd series of ingredients. Oh, some of these are quite impossible to find, these days." The group gathered around Kerring's page of the text and peered at the surrounding instructions.
"So the key can't be made, now?" Mairelon wondered incredulously.
"Not unless you have a handy supply of dried dodo dung," replied Kerring dryly.
"But it can't be destroyed once it's made," said Kim slowly, "since it's 'ultimate and eternal.' So he's been looking for the one that must have already been made."
"Well, I don't suppose we'll have much better luck, do you?" said Mairelon. "It could be anywhere." There was a pause in which they all considered the enormity of the search.
"No," said Renée after a moment, "I think this is not so very clear. The key, it is words. It is the characters traced by the quill of God. You see? It is not 'the key to the casket' but 'the key to opening the casket.' My English is not as assumed, so I notice these things that you take for granted."
They bent over the page again, considering the implications of her statement.
"Then what are the ingredients for?" Mairelon was skeptical.
"Perhaps they are a metaphor," suggested Kerring. "A metaphor for the words that are the key."
"Words as a metaphor for words?"
"And why not? Is that not what is said, 'in the beginning was the word?'"
"Well, I'm not sure that's quite what was meant by that phrase—"
Shoreham interrupted. "Before we get derailed by a tangent here, may I perhaps suggest that rather than trying to solve it all in one go, we make several copies of these to examine at our leisure? Charming as your company is, I haven't got the time for debate just at present."
That eminently sensible suggestion universally adopted, they set to work. Kim's section of the copying included a good portion of the poems, and as she reached the end of the first, her pen slowed. Carefully, she raised the page to her eyes and examined it closely, then held it at arm's length and various distances in between.
"I think," she said slowly, "that there's something else here. These drawings, are they words? I don't think it's Latin or Greek, but it's something…" She trailed off. Each of the others took a page and looked at it from different angles and distances. Renée was the first to see what Kim had seen – that the lines of the illustrations looked strange, as if the artist had to use certain shapes and amounts and had crammed some of them in at the last minute.
"But yes! There is something. Is this perhaps Aramaic, or Ge'ez?"
"No, no," said Mairelon, "both of those are too formalized. This is more like Arabic. See how the lengths vary between this one and this one?" He placed two pages against each other. "Yet the shape is the same."
"It seems out of character for Dee to have used something like Arabic, though," commented Kerring. "He would have been more likely to be familiar with Hebrew."
Shoreham drew their attention by chuckling. "You are all wrong," he asserted. "It is the script from Trithemius's Steganographia. It's somewhere between a true language and a cipher. Richard, does Andrew's library have a copy of that?"
After considerable hunting and Mairelon's vows to reorganize as soon as he had a free moment, a copy was located. It took a few minutes of solid scrutiny before the Earl could work out the translation of the first illustration. His eyes widened in surprise.
"And once again Mrs. Merrill discovers the crucial factor. The translation here is 'third Enochian key.'" Kim sat back in her chair, surprised.
"Third key?" wondered Kerring. "That must mean there are several to choose from. How do we know which is the one to use? Or will any of them do?"
"Non," Renée commented, looking back at the text. "It must be the 'ultimate and eternal key' that is used."
"Ultimate meaning final? In that case it must be the nineteenth of these poems, no?"
They each took an illustration and gathered around the Trithemius to decipher it.
"I have the nineteenth," noted Mairelon a few moments later. He read the first few lines of it aloud. "O you heavens which dwell in the Air, are mighty in the parts of the Earth, roar in the heart of the holy Fires of Hell, flow in the Water from whence came all things,
and execute the Judgement of the Highest! To you it is said, Behold the face of your God."
"Yes," said Renée, "that is it. The words, they are a metaphor for words, do you not see?" Kim shook her head. Poetry was one thing but this was quite another. Lord Kerring also seemed somewhat confused. "The beryl is the air," Renée continued, "the carbuncle is the earth; the rubies are fire; the pearl is the water; the chrysolite is the spirit. It is the simplest thing to make the connection." Kerring made a derogatory noise but stifled it when Renée's frosty glance was turned his direction. "You men," she commented, "you have no sense of the romance. It is poetry." Kim smothered a laugh at the look on Kerring's face.
"Fascinating as this is," Shoreham interrupted again, "I fail to see how it gets us any further. The key is a poem. So be it. We have the key; we have the chest. How do we make something happen? A poem is not a spell."
Reluctantly, they returned to their copying which proceeded without further interruption, and the group departed with promises to reflect and meet for further investigation the following day.
-----
Several days passed with no further progress; Kerring worked on drawing connections between Dee's published works and the newly found manuscripts, while Shoreham, Renée, Mairelon, and Kim focused on experimenting with spell diagrams. They'd taken the chest into the ballroom (the only good place in the house for large-scale magical experimentation) and took turns reciting the nineteenth key while standing in various positions, with and without candles, various gems, and herbs. Nothing seemed to work.
Kim's lower level of education limited her usefulness in these conferences, so her assistance was limited to preparing ingredients, chalking diagrams, setting wards, and keeping Mairelon's spirits up. She found some of Renée's advice most useful in this last endeavor, and so it was with a cheerful countenance, if not with any real sense of optimism, that they entered the ballroom on the fifth day after Nash's attack.
This time, though, something seemed different. As soon as Kim stepped into the first diagram, she could feel the change; now there was a sort of hum of energy that had not been there the day before. Mairelon noticed it, too.
"I can feel it," he said as they took their places. "Something's different today." Kim finished laying out the holly on top of the chest and stepped out of the circle. The hum faded to nothing and everyone turned to stare at her.
Confused, she stepped up to Mairelon's place along the circle but just outside it. Nothing. She rested her hand on his shoulder and suddenly, the hum returned to half strength. She stepped forward into the circle and it strengthened all the way. The wizards traded uncomprehending looks, except for Renée, whose eyes narrowed shrewdly.
"I believe I understand," she said abruptly, "and it will not harm Kim to be part of this. In fact, I think it will be more effective if she performs the reading." She refused to be drawn any further on the subject, however, and it was only reluctantly that Mairelon agreed to the suggestion. The group reorganized to space themselves evenly around the circle and, at Shoreham's gesture, Kim began to speak the poem aloud.
"O you heavens which dwell in the Air,
are mighty in the parts of the Earth,
roar in the heart of the holy Fires of Hell,
flow in the Water from whence came all things,
and execute the Judgement of the Highest!
To you it is said, Behold the face of your God,
the beginning of comfort, whose eyes are the brightness of the heavens"
Kim could feel the power building behind the words in her stomach and flowing out of her mouth across the diagram, gathering in the hollow of the empty box. As the power grew, it began to radiate outward from other parts of her face – eyes and nose as well as mouth – and she raised her arms almost unconsciously to let it stream out from her fingers.
"Arise, Move, and Appear before the Covenant of his mouth,
which he has sworn unto us in his Justice.
Open the Mysteries of your Creation:
and make us partakers of Undefiled Knowledge."
As she delivered the last lines of the poem, the air in the room shimmered with the taut lines of power, which funneled into the center of the circle and coalesced into a dark object that dropped with a heavy noise into the wooden chest.
The power expended, Kim expected to be drained and exhausted, but instead she felt exhilarated and alive. The others seemed the same.
"I haven't felt so good in years!" exclaimed Kerring puckishly, and the group broke into laughter. Mairelon was the first to step forward. He took two short steps and, reaching down, pulled out the heavy, dark stone. Seeing his expression, they sobered, and Kim was reminded of his impassioned speech to her about his discovery of magic's failures. He held it almost reverently for a moment, then turned and handed it off to Lord Shoreham brusquely, as if wanting no more to do with it. His next words confirmed that impression.
"There you go, Edward, and that's the last I want to see of that thing unless it's absolutely necessary." Shoreham nodded. "I don't even want to know if it works," Mairelon continued. "I wash my hands of the thing."
Kim thought she understood; she'd been pondering the problems of the stone and its possibilities, and clearly Mairelon had been doing the same. If the stone worked, those who knew about it would be put in the position of choosing who was worthy of being saved. Anyone they chose not to save… it would be as bad as killing someone. The responsibility would be overwhelming. Shoreham had no choice about his responsibilities, but Mairelon could keep himself from that situation, if he chose. She was suddenly, selfishly grateful he'd taken responsibility for her, those almost two years ago, and vowed, perhaps for the hundredth time, to be worthy of him.
Shoreham expressed his gratitude to them once again and departed to take the stone off to a safe location. Kerring, too, was eager to leave, as he'd been sent word that morning that Robert, his apprentice, had awakened. As Mairelon showed them out, Renée pulled Kim aside.
"I will only warn you," she said, "that I think what happened here, with the circle; it means a great thing for you. You are young, yes, but one is never ready for this sort of thing. You will promise to speak to me, or to Lady Wendall, if you have any problems. M. Merrill, he is entirely too male to understand." Kim gave her word, but Renée's words had certainly failed to remove her confusion. Nonetheless, she smiled as the French woman departed, leaving Kim alone with her husband, who sighed in relief.
"I'm glad that's done with."
"What, you, tired of adventure?"
"Adventure, no, hard work, yes," he shot back. "And you? Tired? That spell had a lot of power behind it."
"I'm fine," she said emphatically, grinning to see him in fine form. "In fact, I'm more than fine." She slid her arms around his neck. "Let's go back to bed."