The Secrets of Life and Death (29 page)

‘Under the desk.’ Felix pulled the bulky leather chair out. ‘Scoot under there, there’s a gap behind the drawers. I used to squeeze in there when I was little. It’s just inside the edge of the circle.’

Jack pulled the dog back, as the pounding started again.

Felix jogged into the hall. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ he called.

Jack pushed the chair in front of the desk, and hauled the dog towards the living room, his hissing whine as close as he would normally come to a bark. She just had time to restrain him before several uniformed officers clattered down the tiled hallway, shouting to each other.

‘Are you the owner of the car on the drive?’ The first officer in the room was wearing a padded jacket, like he was expecting a fight.

‘No. I mean, it belongs to the garage, they have my car in for repair. Why?’

‘We have reason to believe …’
Oh God, it was that dog walker, she must have reported the registration to the police.
‘… Sadie Williams …’

Jack could feel her whole life unravelling. Sadie would die within seconds of being ‘rescued’, and Jack would fade within a day or two, away from the circle and the herbs. One part of her was so tired, it didn’t care, just wanted to let go and sleep. The other part of her wanted to follow the feelings to Felix and lose herself in his touch, his warmth … the dog heaved against his collar in an effort to reach the new threat.

‘Jack.’

Felix’s voice reached her, and touched the part of Jack that wanted to live. He was standing in the doorway, looking as pale as she felt. She let the dog go, the collar slipping through her fingers, and stood up, even as the policeman seemed to stiffen. The dog ignored him and Jack locked eyes with Felix. It seemed it was all she could do, paralysed somehow between breaths. She could see confusion then effort in Felix’s eyes, but all he seemed to be able to move was his face. Then, darkness swept in like icy sleep, and her knees buckled as if they were boneless. The last thing she saw was Felix, crumpling towards the ground.

‘I was undecided as to the nature of my angelic adviser – or my demonic possession, whichever it was – and whether to tell Dee. Since Saraquel, whatever his nature, was showing us a way to satisfy our kidnappers and leave the castle, I could hardly go against his wisdoms but held my tongue against my fears.’

Edward Kelley
14 December 1585
Csejte

Dee spent the rest of the day, and some of the night, in prayer. I could hear him, and sometimes I wondered if there were a few tears, also. Dee had great love for children. The thought that one was sacrificed to save an old man was sickening to him. By the next morning he was pale but resolute.

‘We must be guided by Saraquel, Edward. Look here.’ He led me to the table, with the remains of the smudged necromancy circle. ‘These letters will never work, not sufficiently. We would need to use the witch’s symbols as well. I imagine they should be centred about the lady’s heart, and supported with herbs and ritual. She should lie within a circle cast with the correct ceremony, this will bind her soul … but to what, Edward? A dying body?’

‘It is the only body she has, master.’

Eventually he nodded. ‘And should angels speak, you must hear them, Edward. They must be our guides in this. Indeed, they may be our only friends in this accursed place.’ He shuddered, pulling his jacket around his shoulders.

‘Master,’ I said, fearing to distress him more. ‘The blood potion—’

‘It is done, Edward. I shall strive to make that child’s sacrifice a reason to work harder in the Lord’s work.’ He hesitated for a moment, then said, in a soft voice, ‘for she is surely better in heaven than in this serpent’s den.’

We worked in silence. I transcribed all the necromancy figures onto pieces of parchment, as Dee directed, and he researched more books he had taken from the library. The entrance of a young woman with a pitcher of warm water and a woven basket of kindling to restart the fire surprised us both.

My eye was drawn to her pale face, so like many of the other servant girls. I understood it was like trefoil leaves, you might search a meadow for many minutes, and see none, yet once your eye has fallen upon one, you see them all. I realised that I had accepted that the people here were fair of skin, sallow at best, but now I suspected that this wench was sickly. Their elders were so ruddy and dark of feature that their young were in shameful contrast. I could not deny the possibility that these children were being used to sustain the dying countess. She was not just a victim of her strange malady, but the cause of great weakness in others.

We worked through the next day, and the servants must have reported our diligence to their masters, as we noticed more visits and more covert looks at our notes. Dee began encoding the shapes into the Enochian letters we had developed, just to prevent observers reading our work. Finally, we sat around the table, the symbols arranged in a rough circle.

‘This must be nearest the head. This one should be nearest the organs of generation,’ Dee said, pointing to the main sigil. Then he hesitated. ‘What do you think, Edward?’

I considered the symbols he had designed. ‘I think it should do well. Master,’ I asked in English, ‘if we are able to help the countess, do you think the count will ever release us?’

‘I do not know.’ Dee bent to the final symbol, adding a precise line. ‘But this will not help the poor lady recover, as we know it, just prolong an unnatural life.’

‘And bear a child?’

He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe that is possible. I heard the story the king told us, but it must be that the woman Katalin was merely wounded, and weakened by it. How could a living child grow within a dead womb?’

I hesitated. ‘The witch believes it and her mother was present.’

He stared at me over his long nose. ‘And you believe that ungodly harlot? You have allowed yourself to be contaminated.’

I huddled miserably upon the stool, shamed and mortified that Dee should know of my lapse. He must have heard us through the connecting door, when I had believed him asleep.

‘I believe that she believes it,’ I said. ‘She has many more years’ experience of this phenomenon than we do. Her own mother attended Lady Báthory’s grandmother.’ I drained the dregs of the wine-and-water we had been fortifying ourselves with. ‘Master, Zsófia …’

Dee waved me away. ‘I don’t wish to speak of it, Edward. I was surprised at your lewd behaviour, you have always struck me as a decent and faithful man.’ He sounded more sad than angry.

‘I am! I have never before …’ I shook my head. ‘She bewitched me.’

‘She bewitched you? I don’t believe she could have done so unless you wanted that same event.’ He turned back to his work. ‘But we waste time talking of distasteful subjects. I wonder that angels find you a suitable mouthpiece.’

I was hurt by his coldness, and angered. ‘I believe the angels will be more understanding than my own master.’ When I said the words, I remembered the form the witch had seduced me in, and was filled again with shame. That was one story I could not tell Dee. I moderated my tone. ‘But I am sorry for my mistake. I truly regret behaviour which is far from my normal nature.’

He sighed and shrugged. ‘My dear Edward, I do forgive you.’ Dee half smiled through his beard. ‘In truth, if I were much younger, and more to the witch’s taste, perhaps I too, would have been bewitched.’ He ran his hands over the table and smoothed a piece of paper torn from my journal. ‘Come, my friend. Your eyes and hands are steadier than mine own. Copy these figures down onto one sheet, and we will see if we can effect an improvement in the countess.’

The whispers in my ears had become as ringing bells. I was distracted and my head began to ache. I noticed Dee watching me more as the afternoon went on. I excused myself to the close stool, but instead, I went to the chapel, which was empty between services. Here I tried to still the voices with prayer, but with a surge like water rushing through a pipe, the words gushed into me.

‘Audite, audite nos narro verum,’
they sang,
‘quod sono of misericordia quod diligo of Deo.’

Listen to the mercy of God, I thought bitterly. That mercy had led me to a citadel filled with rich tapestries and good food, and the company of harlots and witches. It had brought me to do the work of the Devil.

I managed to still my anger enough to let the voices spill into my mind, although it was as if my soul was forced open and ravished. The voices became muted as they compelled my tongue to speak their words. I don’t know the language they spoke, but I could understand it, so I shall recall it in my own.

‘Save the woman.’ It must have said it dozens of times, maybe a hundred, my mouth spewing out the strange words. Then a single voice came into my ears, and I was dazzled by a great glow. It was unlike sunlight, it was as if the sun was at the same time all the colours and glittering, even with my eyes shut.

‘Eduardus.’

I prostrated myself on the floor, shaking with fear at the strange voice, praying that it would not demand that I perform some great feat of bravery. Instead, the light grew nearer, with great heat, and I covered my eyes with my hands. I decided to scramble to my feet, and stand against it. I shook in my great fear, my head bowed, my lips mumbling snatches of prayers. I could barely breathe. The last moment before my senses left me, I felt the touch of a burning like ice pressed upon my forehead, and I knew I had been kissed by an angel.

Sadie curled up tight in the musty space behind one of the pillars of the desk. It smelled like old wood, like her grandfather’s house, and the dust on the floor made her face itch. So close to the edge of the circle she felt cold, and tasted acid as her stomach lurched. She heard shouting, as the door was pushed open, and the thump of hard shoes. After a moment, before anyone could find her, there was a series of loud bangs, then silence. It was broken by the patter of dog’s claws on the floorboards. Ches whined, as if he was frustrated not to be able to find her. She ventured a look out, to see a mop of brown hair, which she realised was someone lying on the floor. A radio was attached to his shoulder. It hummed.

‘Ches! Go away!’ she hissed, as loud as she dared.

Almost deafened by the painful thudding of her own heart, she froze at the sound of light steps in the hallway. The dog pulled away as well, lifting his head. He growled, a deep rumble, and backed away. Sadie could see beige, high-heeled shoes, crossing the threshold. She shrank back, out of sight.

‘It’s all right, Sadie.’

The voice was soft, with an accent, and she relaxed. Then the escalation of the growling interrupted her, and Sadie shook off the warm feeling.
It must be the witch with her mind control
.

‘You’d better call off your dog. And come out from under there.’

Sadie’s limbs pulled her out from the cramped space, even as she decided to stay put. Flushed with the effort of resisting, she ended up crouching in the kneehole of the desk, glaring up at the woman. She caught the dog by the collar as he tried to lick her face.

‘No, Ches!’ He squatted down, panting, his eyes on the woman. ‘What’s happened to everyone?’ she asked, looking around at the collapsed police officer.

‘They will be well,’ the woman’s accent was strange, ‘when you come with me.’

A bubble of rage popped in Sadie. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you, and you can’t make me.’

She staggered to her feet, clutching the dog’s collar in both hands.

‘But your friends?’ The woman spread her hands out in a gesture of questioning. The fingers re-curved in theatrical emphasis. She was wearing several rings and necklaces, and looked like she had a lot of money. A sweet scent began to make Sadie drowsy again. She gripped the heavy collar, balancing her weight against Ches’s.

‘What about them?’

‘Well, they are asleep now. I wouldn’t want them to pass into death.’

‘What?’ She looked at the policeman sprawled at her feet. His face was blue.

‘I’m afraid they aren’t breathing. They won’t take a breath until we leave the house.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ Even as panic surged through Sadie, she stumbled forward a step.

‘Or I could just touch them …’ The woman stretched out her fingers and dropped them onto Ches’s head. He fell, as if electrocuted, thumping to the wooden floor. Sadie couldn’t hold his dead weight, and the collar was wrenched through her fingers.

‘No!’ She wanted to try and help him, but couldn’t move. Tears poured down her face as she looked at the dog’s open eyes and his tongue, which had slid over his teeth to touch the floor.

‘Shall we go?’ The woman’s face was implacable, cool, simply certain Sadie would obey. ‘Or should I make another demonstration?’

Sadie could feel her muscles pulling her feet into one step, another step, even as her mouth shaped a howl of grief. It never left her throat. The woman smiled, and turned to leave the room.

Sadie finally found her voice. ‘I’ll die if I go out there.’

‘Not under my protection. Shall we go? They are starting to look like fish left on a riverbank.’

Sadie’s feet stepped over the collapsed Jack, folded against the wall. Unlike everyone else, her face was white. Felix had landed by her feet, one hand extended as if to try and save her. Tears poured down Sadie’s face.
I’m so sorry …

As Sadie left the house into pale sunshine, she could hear a wheezing gasp from someone in the house. She fought the weakness and sickness that surged into her, as she reached the back door of a car. A man, dressed in a suit, opened it for her, and she slid inside. She couldn’t see a circle, but could feel the relief of one.

The woman sat beside her as the driver got in. ‘
A templom, legyen szíves
.’ The words hissed out of her, and Sadie wondered what language it was.

‘You’re not German, are you?’

‘No. I am speaking Hungarian. I have a number of servants from there.’

The woman reached over and patted Sadie’s hand. Her fingers were dry, like old twigs, and cooler than Sadie’s, who was powerless even to flinch away.