The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (103 page)

“Of course.” Stephen nodded, taking a deep breath and leaning back in his seat, though Giovanni could still see the energy snapping off him. “Of course. I just… I had no idea you had no confirmation of its existence, Giovanni. I’d be happy—”

“Another time, Stephen.” Tenzin rolled her eyes. “Tell them about the manuscript. Tell them about Geber’s work.”

“Geber?” Giovanni’s ears perked up. “I wondered. So it was alchemy, or early chemistry? A lost manuscript? An experiment?”

“An incomplete work, but his greatest achievement. Of that, I have no doubt.”

“Okay,” Beatrice broke in. “Geber. I know I’ve heard the name, but remind me.”

Giovanni turned to her. “Jabir ibn Hayyan. He was called Geber during my time, Tesoro, but he was an eighth century Persian alchemist.”

“One of the first to apply modern scientific methods to his work,” Stephen said. “He was hugely influential in the Middle East and later in Europe.”

Tenzin piped up. “His work mostly related to the artificial creation of life. Not achievable, that we know of, but his formulas held promise and were better tested than others of the time. He wrote in deliberately cryptic ways, so many of his original formulas are still a mystery.”

“But what is so special about this book? The book you stole, Dad? Why is it worth killing for?”

“‘Knowledge is power,’” Giovanni murmured, still haunted by the words of his father. He shook his head and squeezed Beatrice’s hand. “Humanity steals it. Trades it. Covets it. Many have killed for it. What is the knowledge that Lorenzo seeks from this, De Novo?”

Stephen sighed and spread his hands on the table.

“Life. The secret mankind has sought for centuries. Geber found the elixir of life. He discovered its source.”

Beatrice shook her head. “That’s not possible, that’s—”

“And it’s not just for humans.”

Chapter Four

Mount Penglai, China

August 2010

“The elixir of… life?”

Beatrice could hear the skepticism dripping in Giovanni’s voice.

Stephen only nodded. “Yes, the elixir of life.”

“Let’s pretend I believe that this is possible,” he said. Tenzin barked something in Mandarin, but he just waved a hand in her direction and continued looking at Stephen. “I’ll pretend this is possible, and you tell me why on earth an immortal vampire like Lorenzo wants this elixir enough to start a war with me.”

“I told you, it’s not just for humans.”

Beatrice’s eyes were darting around the table. She was as skeptical as Giovanni, but she knew her father had never been easily fooled, and he looked dead serious.

“I’d like to know why you think this is plausible, Dad.” She spoke quietly, but every head at the table swung toward her. She had forgotten about her food almost as soon as it was set in front of her, but she played with her chopsticks nervously. “I mean, from all accounts, alchemists have tried for thousands of years to create a magic formula to prolong life, but none of them ever accomplished it.”

Tenzin finally spoke. “But, none of them—as far as we know—had the advantage that Geber had.”

“And what was that?” Giovanni leaned back in his chair as he spoke.

Stephen said, “Four vampires willing to work with him.”

All attention was on her father again.

“What?” Giovanni narrowed his eyes, glaring at Stephen.

“Geber had four vampires, one of each element, that he was working with. I finally figured it out by reading one of his journals in Andros’s library. It’s one of the other books I took. I took the manuscript with the formula, along with three of Geber’s journals and a few books I knew I would be able to sell for quick cash.”

“Some of
my
collection.”

He offered Giovanni an embarrassed frown. “I’m sorry. I’m sure some of them were yours, but I had nothing.”

“I’ll get them back. Continue.”

“The key to the elixir is the blood. No one knows why we have an affinity toward the elements, but all vampires do. And it’s our blood that seems to hold the key. Geber was smart and probably knew that his contemporaries would doubt his use of blood that wasn’t even supposed to exist—except in myth—so he never names the ingredients in the formula, but from reading his journals, I was finally able to figure it out.”

“But why would that even—”

Stephen turned to Beatrice. “You have bruises all over, why can’t Giovanni heal them?”

She frowned. Surely her father knew that much. “Because I’m human. Gio says my digestive system would break down his blood before it could have any positive effect. That’s why it only works on open cuts or scrapes.”

“Exactly, your human system doesn’t know what to do with it. Whatever magic animates our blood—”

“It’s not magic,” Giovanni spit out. “We just haven’t figured out what it is yet.”

“Damn it!” Tenzin said. “You’re so damn arrogant, Gio. Do you think your science can explain everything? There are things in this world—”

“That haven’t been explained yet. And once upon a time, humans didn’t know what the stars were, either. But that time has passed. The mysteries of the natural world—”

“Are not going to be revealed at this table,” Beatrice interrupted. “But the super-secret mystery of the elixir of life might be if you all quit arguing and let my dad talk.”

Stephen chuckled, but Giovanni and Tenzin looked annoyed to have been interrupted. Still, they fell silent and Giovanni gestured to Stephen. “Continue.”

Her father turned to Tenzin. “If you were injured, would you go to another wind vampire for blood?”

“You know I wouldn’t.” She seemed content to play along with the rhetorical question. “I would go to a vampire of another element that I trusted if I needed strength. The blood of your own
 
element—”

“Does very little to heal, unless it is your own sire,” Giovanni said, a sudden light of interest coming to his eyes. “It is the combination of elements that seems to heal. Tell me about the four types of blood.”

Stephen took a deep breath. “Geber must have researched extensively, and his subjects must have been very open with him. What he discovered was that, combined, the four elemental bloods would create an elixir that would heal and prolong human life. Possibly indefinitely.”

“Oh, wow,” Beatrice whispered. “So—”

“How?” Giovanni asked. “How would a human even be able to ingest it?”

Tenzin spoke softly. “That’s where his alchemy came in, my boy. It seems that somehow, Geber was able to stabilize it. That’s what the formula is for. It’s the formula to stabilize the four combined immortal bloods in a way that will allow the human body to reap the benefits in the same way that a vampire body does.”

“But…”

She could tell from looking at him that Giovanni had been rocked. She was feeling a little overwhelmed herself. He looked at her and traced a hand along her cheek, letting his thumb rest at the pulse in her neck.

“Beatrice,” he whispered. “This could be…”

“Gio, we don’t know enough about this.”

Tenzin spoke up again. “No, we most definitely do
not
. And I’m highly suspicious of the next part of the findings.”

“What findings?” Beatrice asked.

“Geber tested it for almost a year,” Stephen said, “and the results seemed very promising. He gave it to a human that was diseased—he only described it as a ‘wasting disease’—but the recovery was almost instant. The human was observed for another few months before Geber sent him home, apparently totally healed. Another subject was very elderly. While the elixir didn’t reverse the aging process, it seemed to halt when he took the blood, and his quality of life improved. He was healthier and exhibited a ‘younger’ level of health.

“But you said this was not just for humans,” Giovanni said, leaning forward over the table. “What did you mean?”

“I mean that one of the vampires that drank from a human who had taken the elixir only had to drink once.”

Beatrice frowned. “Drink once for what?”

Stephen looked at her, spreading his hands across the table. “I mean, he only had to drink once, Mariposa. He drank once in the year of testing.”

She still didn’t understand what he was trying to say. “And then what?”

“And then he didn’t have to drink again,” Tenzin said. “At all.”

She turned to Giovanni in shock. His face was completely frozen.

Beatrice said, “What? At all? As in, he drank once from a human that had taken this elixir, and he didn’t have to drink any more blood in the entire year of testing?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Stephen said. “He drank once, ate the amount of food he normally would have, and never had to take another drop of blood.”

“There’s something we’re not seeing,” Tenzin said. “Gio, I can see the look on your face, and I know what you’re thinking, but this is not a cure for bloodlust. It’s not. There’s something—”

“But what if it is, bird girl?”

Beatrice didn’t think she had ever heard him sound more vulnerable.

Despite his pragmatic views on vampire life, she knew it still bothered Giovanni every time he had to feed from a human, even a criminal. It made him feel barbaric, like a parasite. When they were together and she received pleasure from him, it was one thing; but he couldn’t drink from her all the time, it simply wasn’t healthy. That was why he bought donated blood, even though it affected his health.

“It is not the answer. There’s something we’re not seeing here.”

“But what if it’s true? What if—”

“Then why would your son want it?” Tenzin shouted. “Why would he kill for this? He has no need of eternal life, and he has no compunction about drinking, or even draining, humans. He’s no kind of humanitarian, so why does he want it so badly? I’m telling you, there’s something here we are not seeing!”

They broke into a heated argument in Mandarin that Beatrice couldn’t follow, while Stephen watched, occasionally glancing at her as if she might know what to do. Tenzin and Giovanni had both risen to their feet and showed no signs of stopping.

“Enough!” Beatrice finally said, standing to join them. “This isn’t something we can solve tonight. Even I can tell this book needs more investigating before we all run out and drink the Kool-Aid, so to speak.”

“That’s why it’s still at the monastery,” Stephen added. “Zhang wanted his oldest student and Lu’s monks to take a look at it. Their knowledge of alchemy, particularly plant alchemy, which is what the formula required, is far better than my own.”

“Or even mine, to be honest.” Tenzin stepped away from the table. “Now, I’m going to find Baojia. I want to talk to him about training Beatrice. B, take him away and calm him down, will you?”

She could hear Giovanni growl next to her, but he didn’t feel hot, so she wasn’t overly concerned. She glanced at her father.

“Um… Dad—”

“I’m going to the library; then I’ll be in the Great Hall,” Stephen said. “I’ll talk to you both later.”

He slipped out of the room, and she and Giovanni were alone. He stared at her with the most tender expression she had ever seen.

“Tesoro, if this means—”

“We don’t know what it means yet, Gio. And we don’t know if we can trust this information. There are too many unknowns.”

He put a warm hand over her heart. “But, if you didn’t have to give up the sun, if you didn’t have to be a slave to your own hunger to be with me forever…”

She drew him down for a gentle kiss. “There’s still a lot to think about, love.”

He nodded, but pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up in his warm embrace as she tried to think past the feeling of dread that still churned in her gut when she remembered Tenzin’s warning.

Beatrice had to agree. There was something they weren’t seeing.

“I don’t trust that damn formula,” Tenzin muttered as they practiced late that afternoon. Beatrice was still astonished by how comfortable she was in the middle of the day. Though she couldn’t go out in the sun, the ancient vampire showed not a hint of reduced strength, although Tenzin claimed that flying wasn’t a very good idea.

They were taking some time off from heavier sparring to concentrate on tai chi forms.

“I don’t really want to talk about the formula any more right now, if that’s okay. I think there are too many questions.”

“Thank you for being skeptical. It’s a relief. I was worried that you were going to go crazy at the possibilities, and I’d have to restrain you both. I don’t trust it.”

Beatrice moved deliberately, focusing on the slow movement of her limbs and the steady rhythm of her breathing. “I’m skeptical of anything that seems too good to be true, and this formula falls into that category. Why are we doing basic forms again? And why are we doing them even slower than normal?”

“Because, when you turn, my friend…” Tenzin moved in front of her and started to mirror her in the “push hands” technique she employed when she wanted Beatrice to slow her movements. The technique always made Beatrice feel as if she was moving through heavy water.

Languorous. Flowing. Forceful, but still fluid in her body and mind.