The Secrets of Life and Death

by Rebecca Alexander

  ‘You, my man,’ he snapped out to the servant. ‘We must speak to the count. Count Nádasdy, do you understand?’

  The man backed away, bowing, but I could see the fear on his face. We waited by the door to the main hall, but I was caught between the agony of each step away from the stairs and the wish to retreat to safety. I closed my eyes, and in my agony, felt something brush my face. The pain eased, and I lurched to my feet.

  ‘I am better, Master Dee.’ I swallowed, the last of the pealing receding. ‘But I think our “friends” wish us to go up into the tower.’

  The count gave us permission with, I felt, some reluctance. The tower room, when it was reached, proved to be my lady’s solar. A spacious and pleasant chamber, it had a large curtained bed in one corner, two high-back chairs and some stools by the window. A lute was laid upon a side table. Here my lady’s writing box was topped with what I took to be a prayer book. The windows faced due east, south and west, the bed being located against the long wall, to the north. Very practical, perhaps, but not auspicious for the conception of a child.

  The floor was of close-fitted wooden planks, heavy and well polished.

  ‘These could be marked with charcoal, Edward, then we could refine the best arrangement of symbols before we draw them with ink. Help me move these chairs.’

  We started clearing the smaller pieces of furniture. Using Dee’s compass, a beautiful gilded instrument given to him by the Earl of Leicester, we lined up the first symbol on its scrap of vellum. Gradually, we divided the circle into cardinal points, then spread out the sigils between them. They made two complete circles.

  ‘See,’ he gestured to the marks, ‘these spell out the earth qualities, and these the air.’ He indicated which was which. ‘I hope to balance these symbols with some of the witch’s, if they are truly healing marks.’

  He walked to the smouldering fire, and poked about for a moment, bringing out a half-charred piece of kindling. ‘Try this, Edward, your hand is more skilful than mine.’

  The reward of my youthful follies as a forger, thought I, but I started to draw the bold imprint of the shapes, with a little assistance from Dee on alignment and size. Then I lay down, in the centre of the circle, and crossed my feet. I couldn’t feel any cold draughts or shivers that I had come to associate with the calling up of the dead.

  ‘It seems quite comfortable, Master …’ I started to say, then caught sight of the ceiling above me. Twelve panels with a central motif, which was carved into a twelve-pointed star. ‘Look. What would be the effect of also drawing the sigils above the lady?’

  Dee picked up the pages bearing the sigils. ‘But then, these ones would be reversed, and …’ His voice trailed away as he started mumbling calculations under his breath. ‘And we would need more of the witch’s symbols to complete the circle, and perhaps angelic names. What do you think of the archangels’ marks as well, in the inner circle?’

  ‘I think so, Master.’

  He turned one so it sat more perfectly in the circle. ‘I have come to appreciate your scholarship more and more, Edward.’ He smiled down at me. ‘I could not be trapped within a foreign castle with a better companion.’

  I was touched. I had started our acquaintance with venal, mercenary aims, but I had grown to value the man as a friend and teacher, as well as a great thinker. It made my coveting his wife even more repulsive, and I lowered my eyes in shame.

  I heard the scuff of a heel, and saw the high red shoes that elevated the count. I scrambled to my feet, avoiding the charcoal marks. His stature was emphasised by his embroidered dolman and a tall black hat.

  ‘My lord,’ I said, in Latin, and bowed.

  Dee conversed in Latin about the possibility of drawing on the ceiling and moving the bed into the middle of the circle. I watched the count and his escorts. Two of his lords, Mihály and László, walked around looking at the circle, avoiding the symbols, discussing them in Hungarian. But it was the king’s brother who caught my eye. He stared at me, and I felt the impression that he was uncomfortable with our work. I walked over to him.

  ‘Lord Miklós,’ I said, bowing low.

  He nodded to me, and turned his face towards the circle. ‘Your master is certain of a cure through this sorcery?’ he asked in German.

  ‘My lord,’ I replied, in a low voice, and shielding my lips from view behind a hand. ‘The countess has been saved, until now, through witchcraft, the devil’s work. I believe we have been guided here by angels.’

  ‘Nádasdy has his own reasons for going to these extraordinary, and ungodly, lengths.’ His gaze flicked over his fellows. ‘They are children, amused by tricks. But what they ask is sorcery.’

  ‘Without them the countess will die.’

  ‘She is already dead.’ He murmured the words so low, I could barely hear them. ‘Did my brother not tell you, when Erzsébet was a child, even her parents believed her dead? She fell into a paroxysm, at her aunt’s house, and could not be wakened. She lay in a coffin in the chapel for three days, as is our custom. When she did not begin to stiffen, or mortify, the witch was called to examine her. I escorted Zsuzsanna to the coffin myself.’

  I looked around the hall, and fancied Dee was watching me, though he was nodding to the count.

  ‘I have known soldiers knocked insensible, and then recover,’ I said. ‘Also a child, fallen under the ice.’

  ‘Zsuzsanna breathed into her mouth thrice, then drew her sharpened nail across the child’s chest. She bled, and cried out, a mew like a newborn kitten.’

  I shivered a little at his tale. ‘Go on.’

  ‘From that day, the witch started feeding the girl the potions to strengthen her. Slowly she woke, like a bear from hibernation. The local people called it a miracle. But then they would visit friends in distant villages whenever the Lady Erzsébet visited the castle.’

  I became aware that there were glances from the other lords now, and to my surprise, Lord Miklós smiled at me, and pressed my arm above my elbow. ‘And soon the lady will be well, and will give the castle hearty sons,’ he said loudly.

  His fingers dug in more than I liked. I turned my face so that the count and his captains could see my smile. ‘Yes, many sons.’

  He held back as the count and his escort left, talking loudly down the stairs.

  ‘And then,’ he whispered to me, ‘it would be better if the dead are banished to the grave.’

  Chapter 48

  Jack’s first thought was that she was being suffocated by something pressed against her face. She swatted at it, and dragged a breath into her lungs. Her hand seemed heavy, and fell back.

  ‘Jack!’ The voice sounded familiar, but strained. She opened her eyes a little, seeing Felix’s face through her lashes.

  She tried to speak but her tongue rolled in her mouth, and she only managed a faint sound.

  He lifted her head and shoulders off the ground, and someone took her legs. She was carried to a sofa in the living room by the two men.

  Sadie! her mind tried to scream, but all she could manage was a moan.

  ‘It’s all OK. Hear me, Jack? Everything is OK.’ His eyes warned her to be quiet.

  ‘Need help in here!’ The shout came from the study, with urgency in it. The paramedic – she registered that’s what he was – climbed to his feet, and went to look. He returned, shaking his head to Felix.

  Oh God, Sadie. Jack shut her eyes and shivered. She felt two large, warm hands enclose hers. Please, please be alive.

  Shouts from the police announced the arrival of ‘Mike’, whoever he was, and a lot of activity seemed to be centred on the study.

  ‘Please …’ she managed to whisper. ‘See what’s …’

  He nodded, exchanged a glance with the paramedic, and walked from the room. She felt as if she was counting while he was away, one breath, two breaths. The paramedic put an oxygen mask over her face, a plastic smell. Three breaths, four.

  ‘You’re a bit shocked. Do you remember anything?’ The man pr
essed a stethoscope to her chest.

  She shook her head, one hand clutching the mask.

  Felix’s face was softer, more relaxed when he returned. ‘It’s the dog. They are doing their best, he’s taken a few breaths. The other paramedic just jump-started his heart.’

  ‘Ches?’ she mumbled through the plastic.

  He squeezed her hand. ‘He seems to be the worst off. Everyone else seems fine. Except you.’ He gazed into her eyes for a moment. ‘Everyone.’ He looked towards the paramedic. ‘How’s she doing?’

  Jack felt strong enough to push the mask away. ‘I’m OK.’

  ‘So, what happened?’ The paramedic looked into her eyes with a light, one side, then the other.

  ‘I don’t know.’ It seemed the easiest answer. ‘I just passed out. Felix, you too?’

  Felix shrugged, then sat beside her on the sofa, and put his arm around her. ‘The police burst in, looking for that missing girl. The next thing I knew, I was waking up on the floor.’

  She leaned her head against him for a moment. ‘I can’t think why anyone would think we could be involved in anything illegal.’

  Felix looked across her and she turned to the doorway, to see a police officer with a bruise on his face.

  ‘We’re off to the vet’s, sir, Mike thinks he’s looking better. He’s an ex-dog handler, you can trust his judgement. We were thinking, maybe there was some sort of electrical event, and it hit the dog harder because he is smaller.’

  Jack stumbled over her words for a moment. ‘Why … why would anyone think we would be involved in this missing-child case?’

  ‘A member of the public reported your car, miss. They said a girl matching Sadie Williams’s description was on the back seat.’

  Jack made an effort to sit up, but Felix’s arm was heavy around her shoulders, pressing her against his side. ‘But Felix is working for the police on a similar case,’ she managed.

  ‘So Professor Guichard told me, but we have to follow up all the tips, even the strange ones. I have to get my team checked out. One of them fell down some stairs when he passed out, and one of my female officers had to be resuscitated, like yourself.’

  ‘I did?’ Jack was surprised, and glanced up at Felix.

  ‘I thought you were dead,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t breathe by yourself for ages. If it wasn’t for the sergeant here …’ His voice failed.

  ‘I didn’t realise. Thank you.’ She managed a smile at the officer, who touched a finger to the bruised side of his head.

  ‘Glad we could help. But I will be requesting a full electrical survey of your property. You haven’t had anything like this happen before, Professor?’

  ‘No, nothing. Could it have been some sort of lightning strike?’

  ‘Possibly. Anyway, since the ambulance is already here we’ll get Ms Hammond down to the hospital for a check-up.’

  ‘No. I’m feeling better, and I really hate hospitals.’ She injected as much firmness into her wavering voice as she could. Wherever Sadie was, she needed Jack on her trail as quickly as possible.

  ‘It looks like you hit your head.’

  ‘That was before – I crashed my car a few days ago.’ She managed a smile, though it was crooked. ‘I’m having a terrible week.’ The smile faded. ‘And Ches, my dog, I need to talk to the vet.’

  Every minute wasted, until they could start looking for Sadie, was agony for Jack. She needed to persuade the police that they were mistaken about her abducting a child. She needed to see her dog, who had been placed on a drip and sedated at the vet’s. More than anything, she needed to stop shaking inside from the cold. She could see Felix staring at her, feel the strength of his hand under her elbow steadying her at the veterinary surgery. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the encounter with the witch had moved her closer to death.

  She curled up in the front seat of his car, and let herself slump back. He leaned over to strap her into the seat, and then she was asleep.

  She woke into a cocoon of warmth, and the smell of beeswax. For a moment, she thought she was still dreaming, but when she opened her eyes, the familiar face of Charley was hovering over her, smiling.

  ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Morning? Where am I?’ Her eyes took in the newly drawn symbols on the ceiling, the candles burning in holders around the bed.

  ‘Felix’s house, upstairs. It’s great, he’s been working on the sigils. He’s also cooked up a bucket of the decoction, and come up with a magical formula to make it work better. I like him.’

  ‘You do?’ Jack tried moving her limbs, some of the stiffness had melted away in the warmth. The events of the last days filtered into her brain. ‘How did you get here?’

  ‘My number was on your phone. He called me.’

  Jack relaxed back into the pillow. ‘How’s Maggie?’

  Charley’s smile faltered a little. ‘She’s staying in hospital. She wasn’t badly hurt in the crash. She’s still concussed, and she’s got spectacular bruises from her seat belt. It’s nothing too serious, but they are keeping an eye on her. She’s sixty-one, you know.’

  Jack pushed herself up onto her elbows, one of which buckled. ‘Ow.’

  Charley managed a small smile. ‘Maggie’s nosy about Felix, I can tell you.’

  Jack looked around the room, realising she was in her underwear. ‘Where are my clothes?’

  ‘I think Felix put them in the wash. I brought you some clothes from the cottage – the place stinks of petrol. I left the windows open at the back. But I was upset at the state of it. I mean, it was my childhood home, too.’ She handed Jack some clothes from a bag on the floor. ‘So, tell me so I can tell Mum, because you know she’ll interrogate me. How did you end up in Felix’s bed. I mean, are you … ?’

  ‘No! I hardly know him.’ At Charley’s raised eyebrow, Jack winced. ‘Oh God. He put me to bed, didn’t he?’

  ‘I bet you wish you weren’t wearing your oldest underwear.’

  It was strange, the thought had occurred to her, among fears that she had appeared pathetic. She could feel her face heat up, even as she dressed. ‘I only have old underwear,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Where is he anyway?’

  ‘Ah. That’s the other thing he thought you wouldn’t like.’ Charley held out a mug of the foul-smelling decoction.

  ‘What?’ She sipped it, grimacing. It was weaker than she was used to, but the proportions were about right. She could feel the energy creeping back.

  ‘He’s downstairs talking to the Inquisition.’

  Jack brushed past Felix in the hallway, where he was waiting for her, and walked straight up to the inquisitor. ‘Where is Sadie?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ The man stared back with calm indifference. ‘But she is a captive of the woman I intend to destroy.’

  ‘Jack …’ Felix tried to get her attention, but she waved him away.

  ‘If we help you locate Sadie you’ll kill her.’

  ‘I swear I will not.’

  She looked from one blue eye to the other, trying to read him. But he seemed icily sincere.

  ‘But you don’t care much, either way,’ she said.

  His face softened a tiny bit, around the eyes. ‘I do not blame the child for what she was forced to become.’

  ‘Which is?’

  His gaze on her face became more intense, as he studied her. ‘A revenant. A corpse that has clung to its soul, by sorcery.’ She stared back. He has no idea I’m a ‘revenant’ too.

  ‘Right. Great. Don’t tell him anything, Felix, just chuck him out.’

  Felix walked up behind her. ‘Just listen to him. Then, if you want to send him packing, we will.’

  She sat on the end of the leather sofa. ‘I want Charley to hear this.’

  ‘The less people we involve—’ the inquisitor started, but Charley sat next to Jack, leaning on her.

  ‘Well?’ Charley’s voice was as calm and cool as Maggie’s would have been. ‘Let’s hear it.’

  McNamara walked to the fi
replace, and stood staring into it for a moment. ‘You understand what Dee was trying to accomplish when he travelled to Hungary?’

  Felix leaned against a sideboard, and answered. ‘I have been translating a journal that Edward Kelley kept in 1585. He was trying to assist King Istvan Báthory’s niece.’

  ‘And you understand that she was the person we know as Elizabeth Báthory, in the West?’

  ‘So?’ ventured Jack. A memory of some lurid old vampire legend trickled down the back wall of her memory. ‘Wasn’t she a myth?’

  ‘She was tried and convicted of the torture and killing of up to eighty girls.’ McNamara spoke the uncompromising facts as if they were a weather report. ‘She was then walled up in a tower in her own castle because they could not execute a member of the royal family.’

  Jack risked a glance at Felix, who was standing with his head bowed. ‘What has this got to do with us?’

  ‘The sigils that Dee created did extend her natural life. But they affected her behaviour and she became aggressive. Dangerous.’

  ‘But she was … a borrowed timer?’ Charley’s voice was incredulous. She squeezed Jack’s hand.

  ‘Revenants cling to life, and they die within a few years, a couple of decades at most,’ McNamara said. ‘But she found a way to extend her life through the ingestion of human blood. Over the years, it became like a drug to her. The Vatican followed the case through an inquisitor called Father Konrad von Schönborn. He hunted the abomination until his death.’

  ‘Why is blood like a drug?’ asked Jack.

  McNamara’s gaze flicked over her for a second. ‘It fills these creatures with the energy of the living donor. Báthory employed sorcerers to do more research. She found that exsanguinating other revenants and consuming their enchanted blood would extend her existence even further.’

  Felix looked at Jack. ‘That’s what Bachmeier did to McNamara’s sister. She consumed her blood. All of it. That’s why he’s here.’