Chapter Seventeen – The Queen’s Magician

“At this stage I am not prepared to get the police involved any more than I absolutely have to. There is, after all, nothing stolen, is there?”

The director of the Beinecke Rare Books and Manuscripts Library leaned back in his chair and looked up at the frowning face of the librarian. She scared him a little. Her arrogant and imperious nature combined with her striking beauty had always made him nervous around her, but this time he was determined not to be undermined by her.

“This library is purpose-built and one of the most secure in the world. Imagine how it would look if we went around making a fuss about supposed burglaries where nothing’s taken,” he said in his soft transatlantic accent. “We shall have to assume that this is a clever student prank and nothing more.”

“But the mess?” The librarian was angry and her narrow face grew redder and redder as she spoke – her New York-accented voice rising to a sharper pitch with each sentence. “My computer was wiped of everything. Thankfully I back everything up, but we have no way of knowing just what they might do with the information they could have gotten hold of.”

“I really don’t feel that one crashed computer can be regarded with this level of suspicion. I’m assuming that you didn’t keep information about the security system on there?” the director asked.

“Of course I don’t!” she replied indignantly. “And that PC is not even networked so they couldn’t have linked into any other systems from it, but that’s not the point. There was a huge amount of information about the manuscripts, their shelving codes and details of what’s in the archive and what’s out on loan. They could pick a library that’s more susceptible and aim to steal something that’s on loan.”

“For crying out loud, you’re making this sound like an international incident when all we’re actually talking about is a bit of a mess in your office. Are you sure you haven’t upset someone recently?”

The frown on the librarian’s face grew deeper.

“As you may or may not know, I am not very well liked and I have not been attempting to win a popularity contest,” she said. “Here it’s my primary function to maintain order and to make sure the manuscripts are well cared for and kept safe. It’s not always easy and sometimes toes must be trodden on.”

“So it could be anyone on the faculty?” the director muttered to himself.

“I beg your pardon!” she barked.

“I think that we should talk to the faculty and see if they can offer any insight into this. They may be aware of anyone who was planning a prank.”

“I do not see how this can be a prank.” She spat the word with disgust. “Have you seen the display cases yet?”

“No, maybe you’d better show me those now.” He stood up, grateful for the opportunity to usher the angry librarian from his office.

He followed her up the main stairs and out on to the central floor, which housed the display cabinets. The golden glow of the last rays of afternoon sunshine falling through the thin marble panels cladding the building gave the library an eerie atmosphere. He always thought this effect, combined with the air so still and warm, gave the library a feeling that was a little like being inside a jar of honey He hated this stifling sensation.

The librarian marched on almost impossibly high heels with quick, angry steps to the first display box – a glass-sided cube with a book resting open inside it.

“There,” she said indignantly, pointing to the book. The director leaned over the case and examined the creamy pages of text.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t see anything wrong with this book. Am I missing something?” he said as he peered into the case.

“Yes,” she snorted, “it’s obvious. This book is turned to a different page!”

“A different page? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure; I have a strict routine for turning these pages so the binding is not stressed by being open at the same page for too long. This volume had only just had its pages turned. That one,” she pointed to the next case along, “was due to be changed on Friday. But they’ve all been changed.”

“And there’s no one else who might’ve changed them?”

“There’s no one else who could have changed them. I have the only key and it was at home with me. These cases are bombproof and tamper-proof and each one carries a link to the alarm system. As far as security is aware, no one came in here at all.”

“I see.”

“I want these cases fingerprinted to track down who’s bypassed the security system, and then possibly we can find out why.”

The director stood up straight once more and tore his gaze from the case. “As I’ve said before, I do not wish to have the police crawling all over the place unless it’s absolutely necessary and I don’t feel that the situation warrants it.”

“But the books, my office . . .” she stammered.

“However,” the director interrupted, “I do know someone who may be able to help, an Englishman I used to know. I’ll email him and see what he has to say.”

“Thank you,” she said, clearly not pleased with his decision. “I suppose that’ll have to do for now. Who is this person anyway?”

“He’s an . . . um . . . international archivist, an expert in ancient texts, and has seen pretty much everything in his long career. We worked together a few years back in another building I was responsible for. His name is Toby D’Scover.”

“Are you angry with me?” Adam whispered.

Edie was asleep on the couch and Adam was trying his best not to wake her. Despite the quiet, she was sleeping fitfully, her eyes jerking in an uneasy dance behind her closed lids.

“No,” D’Scover replied curtly.

“But I did kind of break into your library, and went through your books without asking.”

D’Scover slid the balcony doors closed, but did not turn back to look at Adam who stood, still clutching the dark book from the library.

“They are no more my books than they are yours,” he said, staring out over the city. “I am merely the Keeper of them; if they had something they wished to show you, that is at their discretion. You would not have been able to enter the room at all if it was not meant to be.”

“There you go with that fate and destiny stuff again. I just don’t get it,” Adam snorted.

“It does not matter; you do not have to understand it for it to happen.” D’Scover spun round to face Adam. “No, your access to the Texts does not worry me. I am more concerned about the increase in spirit activity. I have had a number of reports from living agents who have the care of certain important buildings. They are witnessing an increase in activity, even the reactivation of once dormant spirits.”

“But you said yourself that this happened before,” Adam reminded him.

“Yes,” D’Scover agreed, “but never on this scale. Have you noticed a pattern in any of the reports you inspected?”

“No, apart from the fact that there are a number of libraries that’ve had archives disrupted.”

“Libraries?” D’Scover was interested. “I would like to see the full details of those reports.”

“But it was just a few reports out of hundreds,” Adam exclaimed.

“Even so, I would like to see them,” D’Scover insisted. “What did the Texts show you? You seem to be clutching that volume very tightly.”

Adam looked down at the book in his arms and it wiggled slightly as if to remind him it was there.

“Oh yeah, it’s all about alchemists in Tudor times.” He loosened his arms and the book lifted from them and slid through the air, coming to rest on the desk. “Show Mister D’Scover the pages, please.”

The pages once more flickered open and speeded up, wafting the other paperwork on the desk before slowing down at the pages Adam had already seen. D’Scover walked over and laid a careful hand on the pages to steady their movement before reading his way through the text.

“John Dee, a good man, misunderstood,” he muttered.

“You knew John Dee?” Edie’s voice startled them both and they turned to see her sitting up on the couch.

“Hey, sleepyhead!” Adam laughed. “Long journey?”

“Yeah,” Edie grinned. “I don’t last as long as you dead people, I need my sleep – and anyway, I seem to remember that you need your rest too.”

“Wow, you do wake up in a bad mood, don’t you?” Adam joked and returned the grin.

“What do you know of John Dee?” D’Scover interrupted their banter.

“I did a school project on the Tudors last summer. We had to pick a Tudor person and write about them. I chose John Dee.” She yawned and stretched. “Pretty amazing coincidence, isn’t it? You have something about him and I know who he is.”

“Oh no!” Adam clutched his head in an overdramatic mocking gesture. “Please don’t get him started on coincidence! He thinks that there’s no such thing – it’s all fate and destiny.”

“Well, Red, it makes sense, you have to admit it,” Edie said. “Although I already believe that I’m here with you for a good reason.”

“Oh God, I forgot you were another one who believes in all that crap!” Adam slapped his forehead in mock disgust.

“We have work to do.” D’Scover, the voice of reason, brought them back to the book.

Edie stood up and walked over to the two of them and the book that D’Scover still held.

“John Dee was alchemist and advisor to Elizabeth I, and so that makes it the sixteenth century – were you still alive then?” she asked D’Scover.

“A typically candid question, Miss Freedom, and the answer is no,” he replied. “The Brotherhood had been founded, but I was just another small part of it. The Senior Council were not yet fully established with ten members organising just over a hundred Shades. I had seen the Brotherhood grow, and had been a part of several discoveries that made operating the Brotherhood easier. This drew me to the attention of the Senior Council. I was sent to meet Dee to see if I could convince him to join the Brotherhood.”

“Stop!” Adam blurted. “This sounds like a cool story. Don’t tell her – show her! You can do it for the living, can’t you?”

“Yes, but in the circumstances it would be quicker to just explain the basic details,” D’Scover said.

“But you might miss something that the Hypnagogia will show her,” Adam insisted. “It could be important, you know, fate and all that.”

“Hypnagogia!” Edie said. “The bit between waking and sleeping; old witches used to use that to influence people. What d’you do? Please show me.”

“Your knowledge again impresses, Miss Freedom. Very well,” D’Scover sighed, “take a seat back on the couch, and you might as well join her, Adam, but I warn you – to show you all the details it will be a long Hypnagogia.”

“I bags the warm end of the sofa!” Edie ran back to where she had been sitting.

Adam walked over and sat next to her while D’Scover pulled over his desk chair once more.

“Do not worry; it all looks real but it is not,” D’Scover explained. “None shall be able to see you, including the image of myself, and you will be unable to touch anything. You can pass through solid objects and people, but it takes a while to accustom your mind to it; you have to keep reminding yourself that it is like a dream. As Adam said, the experience is very vivid and you may feel it is real. Because you are still within the living world, and because of your gifts, you may feel even more connected to the illusion. You will not be able to stop it. Only I can do that and I will do so if I feel that you are under too much stress.”

“I wasn’t nervous before, but I am now,” Edie said, but she tipped back her head and closed her eyes all the same.

“Now I must ask you if you are sure you wish to go through with this?” D’Scover asked her.

“How could I not after that build-up?” Edie grinned without lifting her head. “Bring it on!”

D’Scover took a deep breath.

“In the early summer of fifteen eighty-three the Brotherhood became aware of a new element in the London scene that made them sit up and take notice,” he began. “An alchemist and mathematician by the name of John Dee had been causing a stir by relating his conversations with spirits, or angels as he believed they were. He had been working in London for some time, but, due to his dramatic revelations, he found himself in fashion with the elite of the London set and this drew him to the attention of Queen Elizabeth the First . . .”

Edie felt the words wash over her and the sounds seemed to throb in and out of her hearing range. It was almost as if she was on a swing, drifting backwards and forwards towards D’Scover as he spoke. Soon the words became even less audible and faded with each swing until she was aware that she could not hear them at all. She had hardly noticed that she was no longer sitting on the couch, but on a low wooden bench inside a crowded coffee house filled with smoke and noise. Turning, Edie could see that Adam was still sitting next to her and that he too was marvelling at their surroundings.

“How does he do this?” Edie gasped, still twisting and turning on the bench to get a better view of everything. “Am I dreaming or awake?”

“We’re on the edge of dreaming,” Adam replied. “I think he does it by drifting from speaking proper sentences into disjointed words that explain what we need to see, and our minds fill in the gaps from what we’ve read about this stuff, you know, in books and that.”

“It explains why it sounded like his voice came and went. He wasn’t speaking in sentences at all,” Edie said. “I thought it was my imagination, but it makes sense; you can get a lot across if someone can see where they are and just have lists of objects to fill the image. Suppose it’s like hypnotic suggestion.”

“I try not to think too hard about it,” Adam said. “Does my head in.”

“What do we do now?” Edie asked.

“Just go with the flow,” he shrugged. “It worked for me the last two times.”

They sat still and looked around the room at the organised chaos going on all about them.

The room was large and scattered with low tables that were barely lit by several massive iron candelabras that hung on great hooks from the ceiling. These monstrosities of twisted metal were liberally stuck with grey fatty candles, which spat and crackled as they burned, giving off a pallid yellow light. Around the tables sat men, all dressed in rich and elaborate costume, and all swigging repeatedly from large pewter flagons. They wore long velvet jackets of the deepest shades of red, blue and light-absorbing black with ice-white lace that spilled from deep cuffs. They were obviously impatient for something and many highly polished black boots stamped the floor as the men made raucous demands for entertainment.

“Look at the bling on him!” Adam pointed to a man who wore an elaborate black wig studded with the fire-gleam of rubies. “It must be difficult for him to lift his head.”

“Yeah, but the smell’s awful,” Edie said, holding her nose. “Don’t these people ever wash?”

“Not much, washing this stuff must’ve been murder,” he said. “Guess they just got used to it. Anyway, it’s just our imagination – the smell.”

“Tell that to my nose!” She wafted her hand in front of her face.

A very large woman, wearing a white wig piled high on her head like a snowy peak, wove her way through the crowd until she was standing right in the middle of the room. She shook open a large fan of deep blue feathers and wafted it around to gain the attention of everyone in the room.

“I have a pleasure for you, gentlemen of the Court of Bacchus!” she called out and received a riotous wave of laughter in return.

“Bacchus, Roman god of wine and pleasure,” Edie explained. “This is like some kind of fancy gentlemen’s club. What can D’Scover want here?”

“Every time I’ve been in one of these Hypnagogias he’s been here too. He must be around somewhere,” Adam said. “We should have a look for him; after all they can’t see us.”

The laughter died down and the mountainous woman spoke once more.

“For your distraction this evening I have managed to secure the attentions of someone who has the ear of our Queen.” She swung her bulk to one side to reveal a man who had been standing behind her. “Master John Dee!” she exalted.

A tall thin man, with a long white beard and flowing robes of shimmering green, stepped forward into the circle of space around the woman.

“Master Dee will astound you all with his prophetic visions and feats of magic,” the woman continued, wafting her immense fan around. “He will produce marvels the like of which . . .”

“STOP!” A shrill voice interrupted her mid-sentence. “This man is not John Dee.”

“Look!” Adam whispered to Edie. “It’s D’Scover. So that’s not the real Dee? Why would she say it was him if it wasn’t?”

“He was very well known in society circles. I suppose it’d give her some kind of status if she had the real one at her party,” Edie reasoned.

“Of course he is Dee. Mark his appearance, who else could it be?” The woman spoke in a mocking tone. “My concern is more with who you are than he. Why are you at this gathering, Master, er . . .?” She waited for his reply.

“My name is of no concern to you,” D’Scover spat, “but I do know that is not Master Dee and the trickery here is yours if you tell your fellows otherwise.”

“I think my fellows will believe me far more readily than they will believe a stranger who does not even know his own name,” the hostess said mockingly.

The crowd laughed again, a hearty and spiteful guffaw that rolled around the room.

“Now,” she continued, “I think the time has come for you to leave us.”

She raised a fat hand and gestured to two huge men standing in the shadows behind D’Scover. They stepped forward until they were standing right behind him. D’Scover turned and looked up at the two men and took a few steps back.

“There is no call for aggression. I will leave of my own volition,” he said, and walked to the door.

“Come on,” Adam said to Edie. “We have to go with him; this is his memory of those events so we have to stay close.”

They followed D’Scover to the door and out into the street. The party rose in volume again and the sound of laughter followed them out on to the street. Once outside, the door was slammed behind them and with it the light that had spilled out from inside was abruptly removed.

“It’s so dark, how will we find him?” Edie tried to peer through the blackness of a London night. “What I wouldn’t give for a few streetlights!”

“We just have to see if we can . . . there, there he is!” Adam said and pointed to where the figure of D’Scover could just be made out briskly walking down the muddy street with his cloak snapping behind him.

They followed him through the darkness, desperate to gain ground and get closer to him, but he moved so fast that it was almost impossible. After a short distance the clouds parted overhead and a sharp white blanket of moonlight fell through the streets. The party had been in a wide avenue with tall trees and elegant houses that rose up around a large square; the streets they now entered were quite different. Here the stench of the river was all-pervading and it hung over them like a hot, foul blanket. The houses crowded in on each other and the gaps between them became dirtier and smaller as they walked on. D’Scover had slowed down now and walked at a steady pace through the silent streets as though the anger he had felt earlier had worn off. Adam and Edie felt more relaxed about following him and no longer worried about losing him.

“I wish I’d been able to do this when I was doing that project at school. I would’ve aced it,” Edie said, staring around, trying to take in every detail of the streets around her. “You know what I don’t get though?”

“No,” Adam replied, “what?”

“How can we both see the same thing here?” she said in a puzzled voice.

“I don’t know if we do.”

“What?” Edie stopped for a moment. “You’ve lost me.”

“Well, who’s to say that we’re seeing the same stuff now?” Adam said. “I might see different colours or different objects, but because they’re on the edges of the illusion we don’t know that we’re seeing different things. I reckon that’s how it works anyway. You’ve done a whole project on this period so you probably have a better idea of what London looked like than me. I might see a totally different street scene, but the main details will be the same because D’Scover has given us those images.”

“Pretty complex stuff.”

“As I said, it does my head in if I think too hard about it,” Adam laughed. “I think I’ll give up thinking for now in case D’Scover drives me totally off my head.”

“Tell me about it! Speaking of D’Scover, where is he?” Edie said.

The street in front of them was empty; D’Scover was nowhere to be seen. Adam and Edie ran ahead and stopped just in time before they fell over the wharf into the Thames. The black slick of the river ran slow in front of them, but no boats were floating across it and so he could not have taken that route. They turned round and listened hard for any evidence of footsteps, but the only sound was the soft lapping of the river against the legs of the wooden piers that stretched out over the water.

“So what now?” Edie asked.

Adam shrugged and looked all around at the buildings fronting the water with a heavy frown on his face.

“Hey!” he said, with a sudden flash of inspiration. “I’ve been here before, last time when D’Scover showed me all this. I know where he is!”

“Where?” Edie asked.

“There.” Adam looked up and Edie followed his gaze.

Above them rose the tower of the building Adam had followed D’Scover into in the last Hypnagogia. The city around it was different, he had last seen it nearly a hundred years in its future, but it was unmistakably the same tower. It reached up above the river, casting a long moon-shadow across the foul water. Around its base wooden scaffolding still stood and the remains of the day’s building work littered the floor. The convent buildings were not attached to the tower as they would be in the future, but the door to the tower was in the same place in its base. Adam showed Edie the way into the building and, after steadily climbing the narrow, winding stairs to the top of the tower, they emerged into D’Scover’s lofty room.

“This is earlier than when I was last here, but it looks pretty much the same,” Adam said. “I suppose he doesn’t need much in the way of personal stuff.”

“I dunno, he has all those bowls and paintings,” Edie replied, “so he must’ve started collecting those later.”

“Or he’s not mentioning them now, so we can’t see them in this illusion,” Adam said.

D’Scover was standing by the glassless window, looking out over the sleeping city. A wind blew up around the tower, whipping dead leaves through the windows. The wind grew until a now familiar dark cloud swirled through the tower, forming ten distinct shapes in the room.

“What are they?” Edie asked.

“The Senior Council,” Adam explained. “They’re the ones at the top who control the Brotherhood.”

“I thought that D’Scover . . .” Edie started to say.

“Don’t ask him, he gets real tetchy about it,” Adam cut in. “This must be important if they’re here; last time I saw them they were warning him about a demon.”

The shapes became more solid and once more the room was ringed with tall, cloaked figures. This time Adam felt a surge of confidence and ran forward into the circle where D’Scover had already dropped to one knee in reverence.

“What’re you doing?” Edie called out.

“I want to see what this lot look like; I was too freaked out by it all last time to do it.”

He walked round the ring and peered under the heavy cowls to see what was underneath.

“And?”

“Nothing,” Adam replied. “It’s like there’s nothing in there but darkness.”

“I suppose that they’re representations of the people they were,” Edie mused. “I mean, there’s no real reason for them to be here at all. They could just send an image to represent themselves. It could even be because D’Scover’s never seen them either.”

“Surely he must have an idea who the Council members are?” Adam said, still peering under the cowls.

“Probably not and, as this is D’Scover’s illusion, that means that he doesn’t know what they look like.”

The wind died down and the dancing leaves fell to the floor.

“RISE.” Cold voices boomed through the room. D’Scover stood and adjusted the sword on his belt.

“WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO TELL US OF YOUR SEARCH FOR THE MAN DEE?” the voices asked.

“I have not been able to ascertain his whereabouts, masters,” D’Scover answered, still keeping his head bowed. “He does not seem to be in the city and my restrictions mean that I am unable to search further afield. I have heard he has taken a house somewhere further up the river, but that is not confirmed.”

“IT IS NOW,” the voice replied. “YOU ARE TO GO TO MORTLAKE AND SEEK EMPLOYMENT AT HIS HOUSE THERE. THE DETAILS ARE ON YOUR TABLE.”

Adam and Edie automatically glanced over to the desk and watched as a layer of blue and silver sparks crackled up the side of a quill which stood erect and began to scratch words upon a half-curled piece of parchment.

“Thank you, masters. How am I to get there?”

“THE SENIOR COUNCIL VIEW THIS MATTER AS ONE OF GRAVE IMPORTANCE. WE HAVE BECOME INCREASINGLY CONCERNED ABOUT THE NATURE OF THE INFORMATION THIS MAN IS GATHERING,” the massed voices of the Council members explained. “WE MUST KNOW IF HIS CLAIM OF CONTACT WITH SPIRITS IS INDEED TRUE. WE HAVE DECIDED THIS MAN’S LIBRARY AND PERSONAL NOTES MUST BE EXAMINED AT ANY COST. THE COUNCIL SHALL SUPPORT YOUR CORPOREAL ESSENCE FOR THE DURATION OF THIS TASK. YOU SHALL BE ABLE TO MOVE AT WILL THROUGH THE CITY AND BEYOND.”

“Yes, masters, I shall make preparations to leave at once.” D’Scover bowed low. “But I fear I may not be able to gain employment in his house. I am experienced in the Texts as you well know, but this man is most private and will take none into his confidence, not even the Queen.”

“WE AGREE THAT YOU MAY NOT FIND EMPLOYMENT IN HIS HOUSE AS YOU ARE,” the voices continued, “BUT THE SENIOR COUNCIL FEEL THAT THERE IS ANOTHER WAY.”

D’Scover looked up into the dark, empty cowls and, as Adam and Edie’s mouths fell open, a thick black cloud rolled around him, obscuring him from their view.

“What’s going on?” Edie asked. “Is he in danger?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Adam replied.

The human-shaped cloud in the middle of the circle began to shrink in size so that it almost looked as though it was dropping through the floor. A series of small pops and crackles emanated from the cloud, sending silver sparks cascading out to dance across the floor before vanishing. The Senior Council remained in a wide, silent circle around the sparkling black cloud, with no sign of movement. Eventually the cloud began to break up and Adam and Edie could just make out the figure of D’Scover still standing inside – but now he looked somehow further away. The cloud dissipated and there he stood, still wearing the grubby green tunic and hose that he wore before, but without the bloodstained legs; the heavy sword hung from his waist – only now it scraped on the floor. Turning to each other, they both spoke at the same time.

“He’s a child!”