Academy of Secrets: From the Outcast Angels Christian Fantasy & Science Fiction series
Page 22
The lake, fed by the same viaduct system that struggled to meet the daily needs of Naples’ expanding population, was presided over by a gigantic sculpture carved out of the bare rock of the cliff that formed one side of the lake. The sculpture—at least one hundred varas tall, decided Chrymos when she first saw the magnificent creation—represented, she was told, the mythical Neptune. The Roman god of the sea, heavily bearded with unruly hair, was depicted astride a mighty throne, gazing down at his aquatic kingdom. In one hand, he grasped an outstretched trident, as he commanded his waterborne subjects. That looks like the sort of god I would respect, thought Chrymos, supremely powerful yet caring. Hardly, she reflected as she walked along the pathway, the type of deity the Academy prefers. I don’t imagine the Master was very impressed when the sculptor unveiled the finished work.
Once she was safely past the water, Chrymos quickened her pace. Another hundred yards and the gardens began to look distinctly less manicured. Visitors aren’t usually allowed to come this far.
Another dozen yards and Chrymos was reminded why few ventured this way. In the flickering flame of the torch, she could see the outline of the Tower. More importantly, she felt its threatening influence beginning to pound away at her mind.
EIGHTY
The Tower, Academy of Secrets, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, night, Monday, June 21 1610
As she neared the base of the Tower, Chrymos slowed—not because she was any less desperate to get inside but rather because of the enchantments protecting this cruel edifice.
The entrance serum Odaldi gave us—he said it would last for about two months. It’s been longer than that now since I received it—the effect will have worn off.
Under any other circumstances, Chrymos would have followed the instructions that screamed at her—“Turn and run, you are not welcome here.” But her mind kept replaying the conversation with Olivia, kept picturing the accusatory glare with which Olivia had viewed her former caregiver. She kept thinking of Sirus and the very real possibility that he was already doomed to the most painful and horrific death. Those images, playing through her mind, were enough to drive her forward despite the Tower’s relentless curses.
Chrymos placed the flaming torch on the tiled floor surrounding the Tower and retrieved the gauntlets. Hitching the swete bagge over her shoulder again, Chrymos pulled on the gauntlets and began to climb.
It was almost impossible to resist the fear cascading from the grim Tower—and Chrymos didn’t even try. Instead, she soaked it up and channeled that raw emotion to power her climb up the outside of the building. The gauntlets couldn’t dig into the incantation-protected stone slabs but they could help her cling to the small mortared crevices between slabs.
No, I am not worthy, she told herself, as she stretched up from one slab to the next. I will fail Olivia as I have failed myself, I will fall from here and the ravens will peck out my eyes and devour my living flesh.
Her thoughts turned to a gravely ill Sirus. By now, his face will be covered in weeping sores and he will have swellings as big as eggs under his arms. His skin will have turned the most odious black. He will be tossing and turning in his bed, coughing and spitting out blood.
Perversely, Chrymos’ focused imaginings on the very worst that could happen helped shield her from the exhortations streaming from the Tower. You cannot possibly condemn me more than I condemn myself. My fears drive me forward because I cannot go back.
Minute by minute, Chrymos clawed her way up the side of the Tower. Were it not for the Járngreipr, she would have fallen a hundred times, whether by accident or as a deliberate result of throwing herself off the Tower to distance herself from the hate spewing into her mind. Yet those empowered gauntlets refused to relax their grip as she clambered in search of the illusion-cloaked cavity that would readmit her to the Academy.
Each time that Chrymos stretched upward, she hoped desperately that she would be within reach of the hidden entranceway. On each occasion, she encountered yet more unyielding stone. Success, when it finally came, was anticlimactic. Chrymos had actually climbed past the camouflaged hole. It was only when her right foot was questing for a foothold that it plunged into nothingness, almost causing Chrymos to lose her balance and fall.
Chrymos carefully crabbed across, gingerly reaching out sideways to determine the edges of this entranceway. At last, she eased her way inside. As she crossed the threshold, the Tower’s enchanted curses eased, though they did not dissipate entirely.
Remembering how crowded and chaotic Odaldi’s laboratory had been, Chrymos lowered herself down very carefully to the floor. She removed the Járngreipr and stuffed them into her swete bagge.
Chrymos stood motionless for a long moment, attempting to take stock. Earlier, she had been grateful that there was no moon, which had enabled her to climb the Tower without being seen. Now, however, she wished otherwise. It’s pitch black in here, some moonlight would have been a great help.
Before she could succumb to her rapidly-rising feelings of panic, another distant memory stirred and Chrymos glanced over to her left. I can use that red powder to find my way out of here and down into the Academy. She carefully walked over to the bench that housed a number of small glass jars containing the glowing red powder.
She picked up one jar, loosened its lid, and then gave the jar a slight shake. To her delight and relief, the powder within, exposed to the air, began glowing more brightly.
Next, Chrymos began searching for the two glass vials that had so caught Adric’s attention when their class toured through the laboratory. Doctor Odaldi said that when those two liquids are mixed together they could melt through solid iron. I’ll need that for the locks and chains at the Tower entrance.
Chrymos quickly found the two vials and placed them in her bag, being extremely careful to place them well apart. Then she used her makeshift lamp to guide her passage to the door of the laboratory. She reached forward to turn the door handle.
It wouldn’t move.
EIGHTY-ONE
The Tower, Academy of Secrets, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, night, Monday, June 21 1610
Puzzled at first, Chrymos shook the door handle firmly. It still wouldn’t turn.
She took a closer look. There was no sign of a lock anywhere on the door. Another enchantment? I hate this place.
Chrymos once again donned one of the gauntlets and applied its pressure to the door handle. Again, nothing happened. I didn't actually think that would work.
She slowly peeled off the gauntlet and replaced it in her bag.
Then, conscious that precious minutes were slipping away, Chrymos lifted up her red powder lamp and began exploring her surroundings. Something in this place must work on this door, surely.
The first, obvious answer was to use the two vials that she had already placed in her bag. Those two liquids when combined are supposed to melt through metal.
A quick glance at the vials unfortunately confirmed what Chrymos had already feared. There isn’t enough in those vials to melt through both the laboratory door and the main lock at the Tower entrance. I’d better save them for now and try to find some other alternative.
Chrymos began to search the laboratory, revisiting some of the exhibits she had noticed the last time she was here.
She heard scurrying sounds and looked over with distaste at the glass jars filled with the creatures responsible for the noise. Scorpions? No, I don’t think so.
Next, Chrymos walked cautiously past the snake enclosure, mildly surprised to find it empty. I’m glad they’re not here, I hate those creatures.
She crossed over to the benches that contained a wide array of glass jars containing assorted mysterious liquids. She moved her red-light lamp close to the jars and discovered that they were labeled, but not in any language Chrymos knew. I could try mixing some of these together, but—she looked over at the part of the wall which had been blown up—who knows what would happen if I did that?
Then Chrymos found herself in front o
f the cabinet containing the Exousía potion that she had been so desperate to receive. The cabinet was locked—but a small key on a chain lay on the bench in front of the cabinet.
Chrymos tried the key in the cabinet lock. Something’s gone right, for once. The key works.
Inside the cabinet were three small jars of liquid, exactly as Chrymos had expected. Two parts blue, one part yellow, she reminded herself, and avoid the crimson, it will make me nasty.
Chrymos wasn’t expecting, however, that the three liquids would be the wrong colors. One liquid was black and the other two were red.
EIGHTY-TWO
The Tower, Academy of Secrets, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, night, Monday, June 21 1610
Chrymos nearly smashed the jars in rage. Of course those aren’t the Exousía ingredients, she thought bitterly. Little else has gone right tonight, why would that?
She left the jars beside the cabinet and resumed her search of the laboratory. Most of what Chrymos saw, she couldn’t use—the mysterious labels continued to defeat her. But then she came across a sealed container carrying a small strip of metal and another memory returned. Odaldi said this would burst into flames if we took it out of the container. Perhaps I can use it to burn down the door.
Chrymos picked up the container, intending to try out her theory. As she moved towards the door, however, she tripped on yet another of Odaldi’s hoarded treasures and the container flew out of her hands, landing heavily on one of the benches.
The glass container cracked, letting in air. The metal strip burst into flame, momentarily blinding her with its brightness in comparison to the dim red light that she had been using.
As the bright white light flared, Chrymos instinctively looked away—and in doing so, she caught a fresh glimpse of the liquids in the potion jars. I don’t believe it. The liquid have changed color.
In the light from the new white flame, the black had become blue and one of the red liquids had apparently turned yellow. The other red—stayed red.
Before the fire could die down, and before she lost her nerve, Chrymos grabbed an empty goblet and poured in ‘two parts blue, one part yellow’. The combined mixture sparkled and snarled. That’s exactly what the Exousía potion is supposed to do. Now let’s see if Adric was right about the foul taste.
She quickly swallowed the potion. He was.
EIGHTY-THREE
The Tower, Academy of Secrets, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, night, Monday, June 21 1610
Chrymos stood for a moment, watching and waiting. She could feel her stomach fighting valiantly against the foreign invader. Other than that, she felt no different. Please, please, Lord, let me receive my powers immediately so that I can save the children, she prayed.
Nothing seemed to be happening, except that the white light grew dimmer and then went out completely as the thin metal strip finally consumed itself. All that remained was the red glow from the powder.
Chrymos again shook the glass jar containing the red powder, and was once more rewarded with an increase in the light’s intensity. Might as well keep looking through the laboratory for some useful tool or weapon, there’s not much else I can do.
She started afresh in a separate section of the laboratory and was thrilled to discover that she could actually read the labels on the jars in this area. That’s more like it!
Even though Chrymos could read these labels, that didn’t mean she could understand how to use the ingredients that the jars contained. Weremilk. Phoenix feather. Dragon tooth. Owl eye. What am I supposed to do with these? Maybe they covered this stuff in the two and a half years of the training that I missed.
Chrymos worked her along the bench, growing more and more frustrated as she read and discarded jar after jar. After completing her review of all the ingredients in one section of the laboratory, Chrymos moved on to the next bench, reading and dismissing, reading and dismissing.
She stopped in shock when she recognized a particularly distinctive jar containing desiccated vulture beaks. I’ve already been through this section before—but I couldn’t read the labels then.
Chrymos sank to her knees in despair. This is my power? To understand languages? What use is that? Is this the ‘world-changing power’ for which I gave up the children?
EIGHTY-FOUR
The Tower, Academy of Secrets, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, night, Monday, June 21 1610
Come on woman. Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t getting you anywhere. Get off those knees and keep looking for something that will get you out of this place in time to save Sirus and the girls.
Chrymos’ self-talk may not have been inspirational but at least it pushed her to start moving again. She stood, lifted up the red powder-lamp, and continued inspecting the ingredients on display, searching for anything at all that she could use.
After another fifteen minutes or so, she had narrowed her selection down to a couple of options. One, labeled ‘Greek Fire’, seemed to promise explosive possibilities. A second, the ‘poison-fog magic smoke eruptor,’ was intended, according to the notes on the label, to ‘choke enemies with a formidable spray of poisonous smoke.’ If I have to call the guards to get me out of here, maybe I could use this to escape, she thought, not entirely convinced.
What else? Chrymos circled around the laboratory—and then paused when she spied the emerald tablet that Odaldi had called his most precious possession. I wonder?
She picked up the tablet and began reading, pleased to discover that she could understand this ancient writing. She skipped past the opening honorifics and the subsequent warnings that the tablet’s contents were intended only for alchemic adepts.
The next few section headings alone made for horrifying reading: ‘how to destroy an enemy and his entire family, how to control the unliving, how to conjure a sand-demon, how to mummify your enemy alive, how to convert a believer—’
Chrymos had read enough. Right now, I may be the one person who can read this tablet—but I doubt that will always be the case. The secrets it contains must never be revealed.
She lifted the tablet high in the air with both hands and then threw it with all her might against the stone floor beneath her.
The tablet shattered noisily into a thousand pieces.
A few minutes later, she heard shouting and the clatter of footsteps.
EIGHTY-FIVE
The Tower, Academy of Secrets, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, night, Monday, June 21 1610
Chrymos hastily gathered the only real weapon she had found, the ‘poison-fog magic smoke eruptor’, and took up a position near the door, waiting her chance.
The footsteps slowed and then stopped in the corridor outside. She heard a chant.
She waited.
The door opened, slightly. Before Chrymos could unleash her smoke weapon, a snake slithered inside, hissing angrily. She tried to stand up and move out of its way but Cleopatra, Odaldi’s favorite snake, was too quick to unleash its fury.
Even as she stood up, Chrymos could feel the deadly venom hitting her lower leg. She backed away desperately as the creature reared up for another attack. Already Chrymos could feel a burning sensation as the venom began its work.
At first Chrymos was able to dodge as the snake spat another load of poison. She scrambled onto a bench and might even have managed to lift herself out of reach of the murderous creature.
Unfortunately, while she was otherwise occupied, one of the guards had slipped into the laboratory. Armed with a blowpipe, he fired a dart into Chrymos at pointblank range. She crumpled over within seconds.
EIGHTY-SIX
Academy of Secrets, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, night, Monday, June 21 1610
Chrymos awoke to find herself seated in the office of Giambattista Della Porta. She felt terrible—her head was splitting and the whole left side of her body
throbbed in intense pain. She looked up to find the Master of the Academy sitting at his desk watching her, shaking his head.
“You amaze me, Chrymos,” he said.
“Oh?”
“I’m surprised that you can even move, let alone talk. That snake spat venom at you a half-dozen times before my men dragged you out of there. Still,” said Della Porta, pausing to make a note on a piece of parchment, “it’s only a matter of time. Doctor Odaldi tells me that the venom should kill you within forty-eight hours.”
“Then why am I here?” asked Chrymos. “What’s the point if I’m dead already?”
“Father Carracci arrived back this evening,” said Della Porta.
“So I heard,” said Chrymos. “What does that have to do with me?”
“He asked for this meeting so we could discuss what happened with Galileo.”
Chrymos winced in pain as the poison continued to burn through her body. “I’m dying, remember. Why should I care?”
“We do have a medicine that will relieve your pain,” said Della Porta, noting her reaction to the news. “Cooperate with us and your final hours will be much less agonizing.”
“Not a cure, though,” observed Chrymos.
“I’m afraid not.” Della Porta didn’t even bother to look sympathetic. He turned his attention back to his papers while the pair waited on the priest to arrive.
Carracci bustled into the room a few minutes later. He ignored Chrymos and greeted the Master in their shared language, which had previously been such a mystery to Chrymos.