The Alchemist's Door (17 page)
Read The Alchemist's Door Online
Authors: Lisa Goldstein
“It couldn't be helped.”
“No, that's true,” Loew said. He hesitated. “Would you like to have Sabbath dinner with us? I'm certain Pearl has made enough for one moreâshe never knows when I might bring home some traveling scholar.”
“Yes, I'd like that,” said Dee.
I
T WAS VERY LATE BY THE TIME HE FINALLY LEFT the Quarter and made his way home. He walked slowly, thinking of Loew's family around the dinner table, their faces shining in the candlelight. Two of Loew's daughters had come, along with their husbands and children.
T WAS VERY LATE BY THE TIME HE FINALLY LEFT the Quarter and made his way home. He walked slowly, thinking of Loew's family around the dinner table, their faces shining in the candlelight. Two of Loew's daughters had come, along with their husbands and children.
He had drunk another odd beverage, this one called “tea.”
He had watched as Pearl had lit the Sabbath candles, as the family prayed and sang and ate. “The Sabbath must be welcomed like a bride,” Loew said. “She restores our souls for the week ahead.”
He had watched as Pearl had lit the Sabbath candles, as the family prayed and sang and ate. “The Sabbath must be welcomed like a bride,” Loew said. “She restores our souls for the week ahead.”
At one point Pearl set out a loaf of bread and a cup of wine on another table. Dee looked at Loew, a question in his eyes, and Loew said, “Even the dead are allowed to celebrate the Sabbath, even the most wicked among them, and they must be made welcome. When the Sabbath ends they must go back to their torments. Then we light candles and burn spices to protect ourselves from the stench of the fires of Hell.”
The next day Dee stayed at home with Jane and the children, telling Jane about his adventures, trying to summon the energy to leave once again. Rudolf had not forgotten about them, as he had hoped. But where would he go? Prince Laski would not welcome him, he knew that much.
Arthur and Katherine played around him, running and screaming, until he thought he would go mad from all the noise and his own inactivity.
“Listen to this,” Arthur said.
“Str
prst skrz krk
. It's a sentence with no vowels. Can you say it? It means âPut your finger down your throat.'”
“Str
prst skrz krk. It's a sentence with no vowels. Can you say it? It means âPut your finger down your throat.'”
“No,” Dee said.
“Why not? Say it.”
A knock sounded at the door and Jane went to answer it. She came back with an odd look on her face. “One of your strays,” she said.
He was almost relieved to find Magdalena standing at the door. “The alchemists would like to talk to you,” she said. “Something happened last night, and we want to know what it was.”
“Nothing happened,” Dee said.
“Nonsense. We all felt it.”
Dee shrugged. “Very well,” he said. He had no intention of giving up Loew's secret, but it would be good to leave the house for a while. He said goodbye to Jane and walked with Magdalena to the alchemists' tavern, once again marveling at how spry she was for such an old woman.
Everyone nodded to him when he came in, and as he took a seat at the scarred table they all clustered around him.
“So,” the Scotsman, Seton, said. “What was it that happened last night? I sensed something coming from the Jewish Quarter, and of course we all know that you have become close to Rabbi Loew.”
“How do you know that?” Dee asked. Then he remembered Kelley's meeting with Mamugna, and he looked at the Greek man reproachfully.
Mamugna met his gaze openly. “There are no secrets among us,” he said.
“Tell us about Rabbi Loew,” Sendivogius said. “We have heard that he is a great magician.”
“He probably is,” Dee said. “I know very little about him.”
“What did you two do last night?” one of the Hungarians asked. Dee had learned that their names were Zoltán and László, though he still had trouble telling them apart.
“Nothing,” Dee said. “We did nothing.”
“I cannot believe that,” Seton said.
The door opened and another man came inside. At first Dee could only see shadows, but as the man headed into the light Dee realized it was Kelley. His heart began to pound.
Everyone greeted Kelley, and he nodded back. “Why have you come here?” Dee asked. “Are you going to report our doings to the emperor?”
“The emperor?” Sendivogius said. “Do you work for Rudolf now?”
Kelley smiled around the table. Dee remembered that smile, how it had nearly always followed one of Kelley's fits of
anger. The smile had not lost its charm, apparently, because the alchemists quieted to hear Kelley speak.
anger. The smile had not lost its charm, apparently, because the alchemists quieted to hear Kelley speak.
“Yes, I'm ashamed to say I did once work for Rudolf. I succumbed to his wiles, his flattery.”
“His wealth,” Dee said.
“Yes, if you like,” Kelley said. “He offered me a great deal. But it was for an evil cause, and I have quit his service. I repent all that I have done.”
For a brief moment Dee believed him. Then he remembered all the lies, all the pretty stories about angels. “Nonsense,” he said. “Rudolf rewards you too well. I can't believe you would give up that huge house of yours, let alone all the money he must be paying you.”
“I have, though,” Kelley said. “I grew afraid of the flames of hell. What the emperor asked me to do is wrong, evil.”
“What did he want from you?” Seton asked.
“Do you know the story of the thirty-six?” Kelley asked.
All around the table people shook their heads.
“It was a Jewish legend originally,” Kelley said. “Rabbi Loew could tell you more about it. Or my friend Doctor Dee here, if he cared to.”
A few of the men looked at Dee. It was amazing, Dee thought, how Kelley had managed to turn the alchemists against him, all the while presenting himself in the best light possible. He felt a vast frustration; he knew, to his sorrow, how far Kelley had allied himself with evil forces, and knew too that no one around the table would believe him if he told them. They had all fallen under his enchantment.
Everyone grew quiet as Kelley spoke of the thirty-six righteous men who upheld the world. “So what do you think?” Sendivogius asked when he had finished. “That the thirty-sixth is one of us?”
“Me!” Mamugna said, laughing. “It's me.”
“No, me!” said one of the Hungarians.
“Seriously, though,” Al Salah said. “What do you want from us?”
Dee had not heard Al Salah speak all evening. Kelley turned toward him, seemingly unable to resist the man's natural authority.
“I wondered if any of you know who the man is,” Kelley said. “Or if you have any guesses.”
“I wouldn't tell you if I did know,” Dee said. He looked out at the others. “Can't you see? He's lying. He'll report whatever we say to Rudolf. He's lied to me before, many times. He told me he could see angels in my scrying glass, but he saw nothing, nothing at all.”
“Nothing?” Kelley said. “I called up a demon, according to you.”
The others studied Kelley with new respect. “So this was the friend you spoke of,” Mamugna said.
“He summoned a demon, yes. That's the sort of man he is. He pursues knowledge but doesn't care how he gets it. Demons, angels, it's all the same to him.”
“All of us wish to acquire knowledge, though,” Mamugna said, his face impassive.
“And why do you want the name of the thirty-sixth man?” Dee asked. “Tell us that.”
“I would think that much is obvious,” Kelley said. “We must protect him from the emperor, of course. If Rudolf finds this man before we do he will kill him.”
“Why would he do that?” Sendivogius asked.
“The world becomes malleable if the man does not die at the appointed time. If Rudolf kills him he can make the world over the way he wants it.”
“Imagine what a world created by Rudolf would be like,” Seton said.
“Yes, imagine,” Dee said. “Don't tell him anything. He's working with Rudolf, not against him.”
“There's no real evidence of thatâ” Sendivogius said.
“Evidence! I saw him in Rudolfs throne room! He stole my scrying glass!”
“Yes, but as he says, he's repented.” Sendivogius turned toward Kelley. “I'd like to help you, but I have no idea who this man could be.”
“Nor I,” Seton said.
The othersâZoltán and László and Mamugnaâshook their heads. Kelley shrugged. “Well,” he said. “Please let me know if you discover anything.” He grinned; Dee saw a flash of the old Kelley, the man filled with plots and mischief. “I live in Doctor Faust's old house.”
Several of the others looked at him with a mixture of fear and admiration: here was someone unafraid to sleep in a house where a man had been snatched by demons. And yet even that fact failed to dissuade them, Dee thought. They all wanted what Kelley had, his air of wealth and power; they didn't care how he had gotten it.
Kelley left, and the rest of them followed soon after. Dee found himself walking next to the Scotsman, Seton.
“Are you certain he's not to be trusted?” Seton asked. He was speaking English, but his accent was so distorted that at first Dee had a hard time understanding him.
“Yes,” Dee said.
“I think I can discover who the thirty-sixth man is,” Seton said. “But I don't know if I should pass this information on to Kelley.”
“You must not tell him anything.” Dee's curiosity got the better of him and he asked, “How would you do it?”
“Come visit me tomorrow and I'll show you.”
Dee hesitated. He should be packing, should be deciding where to go and what to do next. But Loew had told him to find out all he could from the alchemists, and he had to make certain that Seton would not pass on any discoveries to Kelley.
“Very well,” Dee said. Seton gave him directions, and the two men separated for the night.
“Who was that odd woman?” Jane asked when he came home.
“Odd woman?” Dee said. “Oh, Magdalena. One of my strays, as you said.”
“Where does she live?”
“I don't know. On the streets, I think.”
“On the streets! And you never invited her here for supper? Men!” She looked at him fondly and shook her head.
He had never thought of it. He marveled at how good she was, and wondered, not for the first time, whether she might be the thirty-sixth.
The next day he made his way to Seton's house. The house was small, with peeling paint and cracked shutters. The steps up to the front door listed to the right, and creaked ominously as he climbed them. Five or six orange cats lay on the porch.
None of the other houses in the neighborhood looked much better. Dee felt surprisingly reassured by this; these people were probably not in Rudolfs service, then. Not for them the echoing, glacially cold mansions of the very wealthy.
Dee knocked on the door. He was looking forward to this meeting; it had been a long time since he had had someone to share his work with. And it would be good to speak English with someone besides Jane and the children. He had been feeling marginal, unimportant, like a note scrawled in the borders of text in a book. Even a heathen like Al Salah was more at home here.
The door opened. “Come in, come in,” Seton said. He led Dee through several very tiny rooms and into what looked like a small study.
A scrying glass stood on one of the bookshelves. Dee stepped back in alarm, and Seton looked at him, puzzled. “Iâ
I have sworn off scrying glasses,” Dee said, trying to make a joke of it.
I have sworn off scrying glasses,” Dee said, trying to make a joke of it.
“Yes, I remember,” Seton said. “Master Kelley used yours to call up his demon, is that right? Don't worryâwe will do nothing like that here.”
He sat at a desk, picked up a pen and dipped it into an inkwell. Then he closed his eyes, spoke a few words under his breath, and put the pen to a piece of paper.
Nothing happened. Dee watched him for a moment and then looked away, thinking it impolite to study a man who could not see him. His eyes rested on a skeleton of some animal on the shelf in front of him. It looked like a cat; he thought of the cats he had seen on the porch and stirred uneasily.
He glanced back at Seton. The other man still sat as he had, though now drops of sweat were beaded on his face. Suddenly his pen moved in a strange jerking motion, as if someone, or something else controlled it.
The pen jerked again, then swung back and forth across the paper. It described one arc, then two, then three. Then it moved to the top of the page and began to scribble rapidly. Seton muttered as he wroteâa long stream of unintelligible sounds.
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