by Amanda Quick
Inside the chamber an old steel chest elaborately decorated with alchemical symbols sat on a carpet. The aurora stone, dull and opaque, rested in an indentation on top.
In spite of the frightening circumstances, a small rush of excitement flashed through Leona. Sybil’s strongbox. For generations it had been no more than a legend among the women of her family.
Doing her best to appear calm, she walked across the chamber and examined the strongbox. The thin sheet of gold that covered the lid was etched with a very familiar alchemical code. It was the code in which her mother’s journal was written, the code that had been passed down to all of Sybil’s daughters for two hundred years.
Silently she translated the warning Sybil had left:
Know ye that the aurora stone is the key. All the mysteries inside will be destroyed if the box is forced by any man’s hand.
“Interesting,” she said, as though the strongbox was nothing more than an artifact on display in a museum. She looked at Gold Mask. “May I ask why you simply didn’t pry open the lid?”
“As it happens, Miss Hewitt, I am something of an expert on the code used by Sybil the Virgin Sorceress. According to the writing on the lid of that strongbox, the aurora stone is the only key that may be safely employed to open it.”
Damn. He was able to translate Sybil’s code.
“How odd,” she said.
“We are waiting, Miss Hewitt.” Gold Mask was losing patience. “The instructions are clear. I intend to see that they are followed. It only remains to be seen if you possess the talent to work the stone. If you are not successful, I shall be forced to seek the services of another crystal worker.”
“Let me see what I can do for you,” she said.
She went to stand on the far side of the table that held the strongbox, facing her audience of five. Slowly, trying to infuse as much drama into the moment as possible, she raised her hands and placed her fingertips on the aurora stone.
Power whispered to her. She channeled a small amount of energy into the heart of the stone.
The crystal pulsed with moonlight.
The men in the cowled robes sucked in their breaths as one and surged closer.
They were riveted, just as she wanted.
“She can work it,” one of them said, awed.
“Damnation,” another muttered, “will you look at that?”
“You must control your audience, Leona. Never allow your audience to control you.”
She opened her senses fully to the power of the crystal.
49
FOG RACED THROUGH the vaulted doorway and charged down another stone passage, head low to the stone floor. Thaddeus and Caleb followed, pistols in hand. It was all Thaddeus could do to maintain his grip on the leash. The dog had not commenced howling when they had entered the darkened abbey, as Caleb had feared. Instead, as if he understood the need for both haste and silence, he had settled into the hunt.
He had led them through a maze of corridors, the ancient scriptorium and into the ruins of the kitchens. From there he had whined softly until Thaddeus had opened a door. Then he had plunged down a flight of narrow steps, claws scrabbling on stone.
They had not encountered anyone thus far. That worried Thaddeus more than anything else that had happened. Where were Leona’s captors?
“There should be guards,” he said to Caleb.
“Not necessarily.” Caleb raised his lantern to angle the light into the empty chamber they were passing. “They desire secrecy, but they have little reason to fear the police.”
“They have reason to fear us.”
"True.” Caleb’s smile was cold. "But they do not yet know that, do they?”
Fog came to a halt in front of another door. Again he whined softly.
“Stand clear,” Thaddeus said quietly.
Caleb flattened his back against the wall. Thaddeus opened the door. No shouts or shots rang out but light flared dimly in the chamber.
“This room has been used,” Thaddeus said, edging inside. He glanced at the lantern. “And recently.”
Fog did not hesitate. He trotted eagerly to a door set with iron bars, tail waving like a banner.
There was a small, choked cry of alarm from the other side of the door. Thaddeus crossed the room and looked through the bars. A figure huddled on a small cot. His stomach knotted. The woman’s hair was the wrong color.
Fog had already lost interest in the cell.
“Who are you?” Thaddeus said to the woman on the cot. The door was old, but the lock was new. He removed the pick from the pocket of his coat. “Where is Leona?”
Hesitantly, the woman got to her feet. “Are you talking about Miss Hewitt?”
“Yes.” Thaddeus applied the pick to the lock. “She was here, wasn’t she? The dog senses her.”
“Dog? I feared it was a wolf.” The woman walked forward. “Two men came for Miss Hewitt a short time ago. They took her away. That bastard, Dr. Hulsey, said something about the members of the Third Circle needing her crystal-working talents.”
Thaddeus got the cell door open. “Where did they take her?”
“I don’t know.”
“They’re still here in the ruins,” Caleb said. He nodded toward the lantern. “They would not have left the lamp if they were not in the vicinity. Too much danger of fire and a fire would draw attention to their secret location.”
Thaddeus looked at the woman. “Go through the door we used. The steps lead up to the abbey kitchens. Get clear of the ruins as quickly as possible and hide in the woods. We will look for you after we find Leona. If we do not come out within the next half hour, you must find your own way back into the city. Go to Scotland Yard. Ask for Detective Spellar. Tell him everything that has happened. Tell him The Ghost sent you. Do you understand?”
“Yes. You must find Miss Hewitt. She saved me from the nightmare with her crystal. I intend to repay her with the most beautiful hat any woman ever wore.”
“Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Annie Spence.”
He smiled. “I am relieved to know that you are alive, Annie Spence.”
“Not nearly as relieved as I am, I’ll wager.” At the door she paused and looked back, her eyes stark with a mix of exhaustion and wonder. “She said you would come straight down into hell to find us. I did not believe her. But she spoke the truth.”
50
ALWAYS GIVE the customers a show, Leona.” Uncle Edward’s advice rang in her head, steadying her nerves. Just another audience, she thought. She fed more energy into the heart of the stone. The moonlight grew stronger, gleaming on the cryptic words inscribed on the gold lid.
“It’s working,” someone breathed. “The key is opening the chest.” The members of the Third Circle watched, rapt with amazement. Leona could feel the intensity of their concentration. They were all focused completely on the stone. Unwittingly they had opened their paranormal senses to her.
An unwholesome lust emanated from each man. It was not the lust associated with sensuality, Leona thought. These five sought Sybil’s secrets with a passion that was nothing short of obsession.
“I have awakened the true power of the crystal,” she intoned in her best stage accents. Uncle Edward would have been proud.
The silvery glow at the stone’s heart began to flare and pulse, darkening and changing hues. She intensified the resonating pattern of the currents. Eerie waves of luminescence appeared around the crystal, radiating outward, enveloping her. There were no words for the bizarre colors that formed and dissolved and reformed. She knew she was bathed in the shifting light.
“An aurora,” Gold Mask whispered, astounded.
She had never worked the crystal to this degree. The surging energy aroused all her senses. An exhilarating thrill came upon her. Think positive? She wanted to laugh. This sensation went far beyond positive thinking. This was sheer exultation. This was euphoria. This was what it felt like to wield raw power.
The light of the crys
tal splashed wildly, turning the chamber into a furnace filled with cold, paranormal flames. She cupped the stone in her palms and lifted it out of its cradle. Holding it in front of her face she looked at the circle of masked faces through a flaring veil of brilliant energy.
She smiled, savoring the thrilling fire arcing through and around her.
“You all really do look quite ridiculous in those masks, you know,” she said.
Perhaps it was her smile or maybe Gold Mask’s intuition finally whispered a warning. Whatever the case, he took a sudden, panicky step back and threw up his hands as though warding off a demon.
“No,” he shouted. “Put it down.”
“I’m afraid it’s much too late,” Leona said gently. “You wanted Sybil’s secrets. This is one of them. It has been passed down to me, generation after generation, for over two hundred years. It comes from the Sorceress, herself. And by the way, she was no virgin.”
She sent another surge of energy crashing through the stone. The undulating currents of the brilliant aurora locked on to the energy patterns of the five men, overwhelming them.
The members of the Third Circle began to scream.
They were still screaming a moment later when Thaddeus, Fog and a stranger kicked open the door.
51
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, they gathered in the library.
Thaddeus was at his customary place behind the desk. He had just come from a meeting with Caleb and Gabriel Jones and he had brought the essence of the day into the house with him. When he had walked into the room a moment ago, deliberately brushing against her skirts, Leona had smelled fresh air and sunshine mingled with his intriguing male scent. The combination had revitalized her as nothing else had since he had brought her out of the abbey last night.
She sat on the sofa with Victoria, waiting to hear the latest news. Fog lounged at her feet, languidly content, as though nothing at all of an exciting nature had occurred in the past twenty-four hours. Leona envied him the canine talent to live in the moment. Dogs did not waste time dwelling on the past, nor did they worry about the future. One could learn a great deal about positive thinking from them, she reflected.
For her part, although utterly exhausted after working the aurora stone to such a powerful level, she had been able to sleep only fitfully. When she had managed to close her eyes for short periods of time, she had endured dreams of such a strange and bizarre nature that she had been jolted awake. Victoria had provided her with a lotion made of cucumber and milk, which she had applied to her face and eyes before coming downstairs, but she feared she looked quite haggard today.
Thaddeus sat forward and folded his hands on the desk. “Caleb was correct in his initial intuitive suspicion. It appears that a well-organized conspiracy does, indeed, exist within the Arcane Society. He thinks it is controlled by a small cabal of very powerful men at the top. Its members refer to the conspiracy as the Order of the Emerald Tablet.”
Leona picked up her teacup. “That is the name of one of the ancient texts of alchemy. It is said that the rules for the successful transmutation of primordial substances were originally inscribed on an emerald tablet by Hermes Trismegistus. The old alchemists believed that if they properly interpreted the code in which they were written, they could understand the secret of life and thereby gain great powers.”
“Not to mention pick up a few handy tricks like turning lead into gold,” Victoria said, mouth turning downward in disdain.
“The Order must be taken apart,” Thaddeus said. “But Gabe and Caleb believe that will be a complicated process. When I left, Caleb was envisioning a network of trusted agents such as myself. It seems my career prospects as a private enquiry agent have just become a good deal brighter.”
For the first time in hours, Leona felt some of her natural energy return. “You said he is planning to enlist a number of investigators in this project?”
Thaddeus raised his brows. “Don’t get any ideas. You have contributed more than enough to the investigation of this conspiracy. Further efforts on your part would have a disastrous effect on my nerves.”
She gave him her best stage smile.
Thaddeus sighed. “I’m doomed.”
Victoria tut-tutted. “What on earth do these conspirators hope to achieve?”
“Power,” Thaddeus said simply. “It is the greatest lure of all.”
“Power of a psychical nature?” Victoria sniffed. “Ridiculous. Why would anyone want more paranormal talent? Until recently I have found my own intuitive abilities extremely frustrating. And look at you, Thaddeus. Your talent has limited not only your friendships but your marital prospects as well. You should have taken a wife and set up your nursery years ago. But women are afraid of your true nature.”
Thaddeus’s face could have been carved from stone. Leona flushed and leaned down to ruffle Fog’s fur. What did Thaddeus think of her own talents now that he knew the full extent of what she could do with a crystal like the aurora stone?
“There are many who would deem great paranormal powers of far more importance than friends, family and a wife,” Thaddeus said neutrally. “The founder’s formula, if it could be successfully and safely reproduced, holds the potential to greatly enhance and extend the range of an individual’s talents. Just consider what I could do if I were not only a parahypnotist but also possessed a hunter’s talents and perhaps those of a parascientist as well.”
Victoria’s eyes widened in shock. “You would be a sort of superman, a superior species of human.”
“Not superior,” Thaddeus emphasized; “That is a moral and ethical judgment that does not apply. But I would certainly be extremely powerful. And if I happened to be inclined toward criminal activities . . . Well, I’m sure you see the problem.”
“Good lord,” Victoria whispered, horrified. “I understand. The conspirators must be stopped before they become a menace to us all.”
“As it happens, Gabe agrees with you,” Thaddeus said. “Furthermore, he is convinced that now that the rumors of the discovery of the founder’s formula have begun to spread through the membership, the Arcane Society will be bedeviled indefinitely by those who will seek to get their hands on it. Hence the establishment of a permanent office of enquiries.”
“But surely those dreadful men that you and Caleb caught last night will provide the information needed to nip this current conspiracy in the bud,” Victoria insisted.
“Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple,” Thaddeus said. “Last night I put each of them into a trance and questioned them. It was soon obvious that, while they could describe the general structure of the Order and its goals, they did not know the identities of those members in the circles above or below them. They were only acquainted with each other.”
“A very clever arrangement,” Leona said. “If one Circle is discovered, the members cannot betray the others.”
“Right,” Thaddeus said. “And the cabal at the top is very well protected. Caleb will have his hands full identifying the people who control the Order.”
“What will become of Dr. Hulsey and those dreadful men who kidnapped Leona?” Victoria asked.
“Hulsey vanished in the chaos last night, but we found his laboratory. Caleb is already plotting the hunt for him. As for the five men who were captured, that situation is somewhat complicated.”
“I don’t see why,” Victoria said. “At the very least they should stand trial for kidnapping.”
“Unfortunately, there is no way to arrest them without dragging Leona into the middle of a sensational scandal,” Thaddeus explained. “Her reputation would be destroyed if it were widely known that five men held her prisoner in that abbey for several hours along with a professional prostitute.”
“Good lord, of course,” Victoria whispered. “I should have thought of that. The public always blames the woman if there is even a suspicion of rape. It is so grossly unfair.”
“As it happens, I’ve had some experience recovering from scandal,” Leona sai
d dryly. “But I doubt if many in the Arcane Society can make the same claim.”
“What do you mean?” Victoria demanded.
Leona patted Fog and looked at Thaddeus. “I suspect the Society has its own reasons for wanting to avoid a public trial, reasons that have nothing to do with me.”
Victoria frowned. “I fail to understand.”
“Think of the sensation that would be launched if someone were to testify that prominent gentlemen have been secretly engaged in occult practices that involved the kidnapping of women for use in dark ceremonies.”
Victoria was incensed. “But it wasn’t like that at all. In any event, the study of the paranormal is not an occult practice. Members of the Arcane Society do not seek to contact the dead or summon spirits or demons. That sort of deplorable nonsense is the province of the charlatans and frauds who call themselves mediums.”
“I know,” Leona said. “But I do not think one can count on the ability of the press to distinguish between the paranormal and the occult, do you?”
Victoria bristled, clearly bent on further argument. But after a few seconds of tight-lipped tension, she subsided with a sigh. “No, you are quite right.” She turned back to Thaddeus. “Nevertheless, those five villains must not be allowed to go unpunished.”
Thaddeus’s smile was cold enough to make Leona shiver.
“Rest assured, they are paying for their crimes and will do so for the rest of their lives,” he said.
“How?” Victoria demanded.
Leona’s hand stilled on Fog’s head. “According to my mother’s journal, when the aurora stone is used as a weapon in the manner that I employed it last night, there is a great deal of damage inflicted on the nervous system. The five men in that chamber were not driven permanently mad, but virtually all of their paranormal senses have been destroyed. They will suffer from shattered nerves for the rest of their lives.”
Victoria’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “A suitable sentence, indeed.”
Leona looked at Thaddeus, the weight of what she had done to the five men falling upon her like a mountain.
