The Alchemist's Key

by Traci Harding

  ‘It was,’ Louisa confirmed, gripping hold of Hugh’s hand to ascend the stairs.

  The hallway that had once led to the Contessa’s offices was now lined with solid timber doors, and each had a small barred window inset at eye level.

  What is this place? Hannah wondered, too scared to voice her query out loud.

  She dared a look in through one of the peepholes, to see an old regal-looking gentleman who was not of her time. He sat in the middle of the sparsely-furnished room taking swipes at himself as if several people were touching him and he was madly trying to brush away their prying hands.

  ‘Schizophrenia maybe,’ she supposed in a whisper, as the history of the structure in which she stood suddenly came to mind.

  Hannah had thought it rather creepy when she’d first learned that the main college building had once been a private institution for the insane. Yet this knowledge now served to give her a fair idea of what was transpiring here.

  Slowly she proceeded down the hallway, braving a brief glance into each of the locked rooms. All manner of what people might consider undesirable types were contained therein. Some of the committed were deformed, whilst others were raving lunatics; some wept and moaned in pain, and others just huddled in corners or were strapped to their beds.

  Why do I get the distinct feeling that Wade’s machine has got something to do with this? Still, she couldn’t imagine how Ashby’s strange time phenomenon could have spread this far. Wade’s computers! Hannah recalled how he could dial in and connect with the school’s system.

  Normally, her first reaction would have been to be furious with Wade, for she’d warned him repeatedly not to mess with the archaic construction in his backyard. But her heart sank in her chest as fears arose for his well-being. What if he’d been injured in all this, or worse!

  Suddenly Wade’s imperfections didn’t matter any more. He was a gentle lover with a heart of gold. What did she care if he had a few bad habits or irresponsible tendencies? It was love, she realised, not just some relationship that she could cast aside and hope to be over in a few days, or even months. And how could she have abandoned Wade just like that, when he’d needed her support most? Perhaps if she’d stayed to aid him, this situation would never have arisen. Perhaps I am the one who is irresponsible and childish? she conceded finally.

  ‘Hannah?’

  She heard her name uttered in desperation, and so turned from the cell she was viewing to seek the source.

  ‘Over here.’

  A hand extended from between one of the tiny barred sections of a door that was on the other side of the hallway up ahead.

  Who here would know my name? Hannah crept cautiously forward to investigate. Oh my Lord! She rushed to the aid of the occupant, having recognised the Contessa.

  ‘Dear God, Hannah. Am I dreaming? Is that really you?’

  ‘Yes, Contessa.’ She grabbed her mentor’s hand to reassure her.

  The Contessa breathed a sigh of relief upon feeling the touch of an ally. ‘Please, you must get us out of here.’ The Contessa moved aside briefly, so that Hannah could see all the investors who were trapped with her. There was also an old woman huddled in a corner, holding her rosary beads before her as she mumbled prayers incessantly.

  Hannah looked down to find a large metal padlock on the door. ‘I’ll have to find the key.’

  ‘The warden holds the keys,’ a gruff old voice advised from the cell next door. This undesirable was of the chronically intoxicated variety. His family had obviously committed him, along with a full supply of booze, in the hope that he would slowly but surely drink himself to death — and by the look of him, he was doing a fine job of it too.

  ‘And where might this warden be found?’ Hannah enquired politely.

  The old drunkard smiled to display a great lack of teeth and bleeding gums. He urged Hannah closer in order to whisper. ‘He’s in a room downstairs.’ He nearly suffocated her with his breath, pointing to the end of the hall. ‘You’ll find stairs down that way.’

  ‘Yes, I know the layout.’ Hannah forced a smile to her face as she backed up a few paces.

  ‘He’s a big fella, our warden.’ He looked Hannah up and down with a gleeful look in his eye. ‘And he’ll rather fancy you, I’ll warrant.’

  Hannah didn’t much like the way the old man’s eyes were undressing her; thus she fled down the hallway to escape his gloating stare.

  ‘Tell him the Duke sent you now, ya hear!’ he yelled after her, breaking into a devilish laugh which served to incite the other occupants into a great ruckus.

  Hannah reached the end of the hall and slowed down to descend the narrow, dimly-lit staircase. She looked to the ground to ensure she didn’t miss a stair and trip on the way down. Because of this and all the noise from the floor above, she didn’t notice the huge warden ascending until he was nearly on top of her.

  ‘Well, what have we here?’

  Hannah did a quick about-face, her heart pounding in her throat, to race back up the stairs, but the huge hulk of a man grabbed hold of her foot and she fell and hit her head on the timber lip of one of the stairs. The sudden collision with the ground also winded her, and in her daze she heard the warden utter: ‘Run from me, will you?’ He flipped her onto her back, and proceeded to unbutton his trousers. ‘Well, we’d best teach you a lesson.’ He reached down to pry her legs apart, when he suddenly found himself being choked by his own collar.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Wade heaved the huge man backwards, sending him tumbling down the stairs.

  The warden recovered quickly from the fall and, enraged by the interruption, moved to retaliate. He was so focused on Wade, he failed to notice a second man behind him.

  When Phil spotted the antique pistol stuck through the warden’s belt, at the back, he quickly retrieved it. ‘What have we here, then?’

  As the warden felt the cold barrel of pistol press hard against his temple, it persuaded him to refrain from movement.

  ‘Unless you want your brains to become a permanent part of the decor, you’d best calm yourself, big fella,’ Phil advised.

  ‘Hannah.’ Wade helped her to a seated position. ‘Are you alright?’

  Hannah threw her arms around his neck and, relieved beyond belief to see him, burst into tears.

  ‘It’s okay.’ Wade gave her a squeeze of reassurance. ‘I’m sorry I put you through all this, but —’

  ‘No, I’m sorry,’ Hannah cut in. ‘I’ve been such a bitch. I should have supported you. I love you, you know … no matter what happens. I was just being selfish.’

  ‘No, I was the one being selfish,’ he corrected. ‘The thought of all that responsibility scared me shitless. You were right, I was just looking for a way out.’

  ‘Excuse I,’ Phil interrupted. ‘I hate to break up this heart-warming scene, but shouldn’t we be doing something about getting out of here?’

  ‘The Contessa!’ Hannah gasped, remembering her mentor’s predicament. ‘She’s trapped in a cell upstairs with all the investors … we have to get them out. He has the key.’ She motioned to Phil’s captive.

  ‘Come on, big guy,’ Phil got him to his feet. ‘You heard the lady. Let’s go.’

  Hugh, Rex and Louisa had found their way to the Contessa’s cell. She was in the middle of informing them of Hannah’s mission, when her assistant reappeared with Wade, the policeman, and the huge warden.

  ‘We’ve been worried sick.’ Hugh was well pleased to see his friend. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

  ‘Here, there and who knows where,’ replied Wade, lightheartedly. ‘I’ll tell you all about it, once we get everyone out of here.’ He unlocked the heavy padlock and swung the door open for the Contessa and her associates to exit.

  ‘My hero.’ The Contessa kissed his cheek upon her release, and turned to usher the investors out the door.

  ‘What is going on?’ one of them demanded to know on his way past.

  ‘There’s a time and a place,’ Wade advised, ‘a
nd this is not it.’ He urged the stately gentleman to keep moving.

  ‘What are we going to do with our friend here?’ Phil quizzed, motioning to the large warden.

  Wade considered their options for a second, before looking to Hugh. ‘Get these people out of the building,’ he instructed and Hugh complied at once, leading the way. ‘Hannah, my love,’ he looked at her, ‘your stockings, if you please.’ He clicked his fingers to encourage her to hurry.

  Phil guided the warden into the cell, whereby they gagged and tied him to the old woman’s chair. The poor old dear couldn’t pray fast enough as she witnessed the proceedings around her. She huddled against the farthest wall ignoring the warden’s muffled pleas to be released as Wade shut and bolted the door on his way out.

  Downstairs Hugh was startled to find that the night clerk, a man equal in size to the warden, had returned to his post.

  ‘Where do you lot think you’re going then?’ The huge figure of a man stepped into their path.

  ‘Allow me,’ Rex advised Hugh, and he moved past Hugh to confront the clerk. ‘Why, I think we’d be heading straight out that door.’ He let loose with a punch that sent his opponent reeling backwards.

  The clerk wasn’t down for long. Once he was back on his feet, he launched himself at Rex and they proceeded to fight their way down the lower corridor.

  ‘Go!’ Hugh urged everyone to make a break for the door, but he stayed where he was hoping he’d be able to aid Rex.

  The cameraman was doing just fine on his own, however, and with one final punch, he finished the scuffle by knocking his opponent out cold.

  Wade, Phil and Hannah arrived at the bottom of the main staircase just in time to witness the victory.

  ‘One of your journalistic skills?’ Wade questioned.

  Rex winked up at the Baron. ‘You bet … it’s saved my camera from being destroyed on many occasions.’

  ‘In that case,’ Hugh interjected, ‘I’m sure the Baron here could see his way clear to reimbursing you for your most recent loss of equipment.’

  ‘Why? What happened to it?’ Wade assisted Rex back to his feet.

  ‘Your machine ate it,’ Rex informed.

  ‘What?’ Hannah was annoyed to learn of this. ‘The machine’s digestive system didn’t come in the form of pulsing blue light waves, perchance?’

  Rex confirmed this with a nod. ‘Turned my camera into smoking, gooey muck in a matter of minutes.’

  Hannah’s accusing eyes turned back to Wade. ‘Sounds much like what was afflicting the school’s fuse boxes, right before I found myself in this mad house.’

  Wade’s brow wrinkled into a pitiful frown. ‘You love me no matter what, remember? Honey?’ He pleaded for her understanding as she folded her arms and glared at him.

  ‘Are they implying that you have something to do with this weird episode?’ Phil stepped into the middle of the dispute.

  ‘Ladies.’ Hugh called for everyone’s attention. ‘If you could all kindly take this argument outside, it would be greatly appreciated.’

  Wade was more than happy to drop the subject and make for the door. The rest of their party were hot on the Baron’s heels, firing questions and accusations at him as they went.

  When Andrew entered the long gallery to find Frances beating Grace in an attempt to defile her, the pain of his own injuries was overcome by his rage. He came up behind the Baron, and grabbing him by the collar, wrenched him away from his girlfriend.

  ‘So, you like attacking young women who cannot defend themselves, do you?’ Andrew punched Frances so hard that he was sent reeling into the far wall, where he collapsed onto the floor. ‘Well, I enjoy beating up old, drunken perverts.’ He pulled the Baron to his feet and headedbutted him square between the eyes. ‘So how do you like them apples?’ Andrew laid into Frances’ kidneys, before thumping him to the ground and kicking him a few times.

  ‘Andrew, stop, you’re going to kill him,’ Grace pleaded. She held no love for the aging gent, but she didn’t want him dead.

  At the sight of his lover’s face, battered and bleeding, Andrew’s anger was fuelled anew. He lifted Frances up off the floor and the Baron began to beg for mercy.

  ‘Shut up you disgusting weasel, and listen,’ Andrew demanded, whereby he nodded. ‘If you ever, ever, so much as think about laying a hand on any female again, servant or otherwise, I will personally see you to your deathbed … do I make myself clear?’ He shook the trembling man to hasten his response.

  ‘Yes,’ the Lord replied, spitting blood as he did so.

  ‘And don’t think I won’t find out, or that your guards will protect you, because I am not of your world, Frances, and there is nowhere you can hide that I will not find you. My wrath is a promise that shall haunt you to your grave, of that you may be assured,’ Andrew told the Baron harshly as he let him drop to the floor.

  ‘Father?’

  Andrew and Grace turned to see young Ernest standing in the doorway that led to the drawing room. When the child saw the state of his father he immediately ran to get help.

  ‘Quickly,’ Grace urged, ‘you must get out of here.’

  ‘We,’ Andrew corrected, grabbing hold of her hand.

  ‘But he is badly injured …’ Grace hesitated.

  ‘Grace.’ Andrew held her face to drill his words into her eyes. ‘You are badly injured. We have to find Arthur. I’m taking you back with me.’ Grace appeared to be torn between his words and staying in her own time, but there was no way Andrew was leaving without her. ‘We belong together. If you stay, I stay too.’

  ‘No,’ Grace uttered in horror. ‘You’ll hang for this.’

  ‘So will you,’ he pointed out. ‘Please, come with me.’

  At the sound of hurried footsteps on the main staircase, Grace’s resolve was swift. She took hold of Andrew’s hand and fled with him to the tower.

  Outside, Andrew looked left and right. Which way should they run? Then he sighted the Temple of Knowledge. ‘I know somewhere where they won’t find us.’ He hurried Grace towards the circular dwelling.

  Downstairs, they entered John Ashby’s private library. In between the two reading lounges, Andrew lifted the rug to find a trapdoor. ‘Just as the Baron said,’ he grinned. ‘Quickly.’ He urged Grace to descend, and climbing in himself, he pulled the rug back over the top of the hatch and lowered it.

  The pair backed up, looking at the closed trapdoor overhead, as people were heard entering the library above.

  ‘Well, I am impressed.’

  A voice came from behind. Both Andrew and Grace were stunned into an about-face.

  ‘Nobody has ever discovered this place,’ the regal old gentleman smiled. ‘Don’t worry, they won’t find you,’ he assured. ‘You’d think they would have worked it out by now, but my hideout continues to elude them.’

  ‘They must have headed out the other side of the temple,’ one of their pursuers was heard to say as the party who sought them left the library.

  ‘See,’ said the gent, ‘stupid.’

  ‘John Ashby?’ Andrew questioned Grace and the obliging character in front of them.

  ‘Indeed.’ He held out his hand to shake Andrew’s. ‘And who might you be, young sir?’

  ‘Andrew Jenkins,’ he introduced himself. ‘This is a great honour, as you could say I am a great admirer of your research.’

  A frown beset the nobleman’s face. ‘Only a select few people know anything of my work, and I am sure you are not one of them.’

  ‘It is not that any of your associates have been indiscreet,’ Andrew assured Ashby, ‘but rather, this machine,’ he looked to it, to find it was only partially constructed, ‘has had a profound effect on the future, which is where I am from.’

  The old gent was forced to laughter, until Grace added: ‘It is true, my Lord. I have been there. To the twentieth century, in fact, a most grand and amazing place.’

  ‘Is that so?’ John was still sceptical, although somewhat curious as well. ‘Then do sit
down, both of you.’ John headed for a decanter of brandy to pour them all a drink. ‘Tell me of the future … and while you’re at it, you’d best explain why half my household is chasing you.’

  Over the next few hours, Andrew and Grace entertained the Baron with the whole sordid story, including the temple fire, the Baron’s descendants, and the machine. They told him of all the strange time occurrences that had happened since the thirteenth Baron had come to occupy the house, bringing with him all his electrical equipment.

  ‘So that’s how I make it work. Of course!’ John rose to gaze in wonder at his creation in progress. ‘What you have said makes so much sense; so many of my conundrums have been answered. Now I can proceed with my research … you have steered me in directions I would never have considered. My invention may not work in my lifetime, but in a few centuries … it will be possible!’

  Andrew, however, could not share the Baron’s excitement. ‘But this machine is wreaking havoc with the future. I was hoping that this information might discourage you, not the other way around.’

  ‘But, my dear lad, don’t you see? If I was to stop now, then you would not be here. How could you be? And some good has come of this … I would never have found out about my son’s abuse of my female staff, which I assure you will come to an end this instant. I was wondering why that poor young maid hung herself some months back … well, now I know.’

  Andrew was pleased about the latter matter. And, as he considered John’s statement about stopping his research, it made him realise that he would never have found Grace if it were not for the machine.

  What Andrew needed was a way to get Grace and himself back to the future, and a means by which to destroy the machine once he got there. He thought back to what Rosia had said about there being portholes to other eras and dimensions all over the planet, where the veil between inner and outer time is very thin, and he wondered if John was aware of this.

  ‘Did you build your temple in this particular spot for any reason?’ Andrew phrased the question carefully.

  John’s smiled broadened. ‘You know, don’t you, about the path of power.’