A Conspiracy of Alchemists Read online

  “And will our endeavors be successful?” he asked.

  The Oracle looked straight at him.

  “You will find more that you bargained for, Warlock. Beware of those you trust when the moon is almost full.” She closed her eyes and dropped back onto the floor, where she lay very still. Marsh reached out. The energy that had surrounded her was gone. He bent over her.

  “Elle. Elle, wake up.” He touched her face.

  CHAPTER 29

  The coolness of mosaic tiles seeped through the fabric of her clothes. Elle opened her eyes and slowly sat up. Her hair fell in a curtain around her. It had come loose from its knot somehow. She looked about. “What happened? Did I faint?”

  “You did, in a manner of speaking. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. Yes, I’m fine.” Marsh was staring at her with great concern.

  She stood rose to her knees and gave her hips a pat. “See, I told you that this was a waste of time. No prophesy.” She pulled her hair back and started tying it into its knot.

  Marsh was staring at her as if she had sprouted another set of arms. “You truly have no idea what just happened, do you?” The expression on his face was very odd.

  She smiled at him. “Of course not, silly. How would I remember if I fainted?”

  “How extraordinary.”

  “Extraordinary? I think it’s more a case of I shouldn’t wear my underwear laced so tightly.” She patted her midriff. “What is wrong with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “And you honestly don’t remember anything?”

  “No, I’ve already told you so. You are acting very strangely. What is it?”

  Marsh crouched down next to her and gripped her shoulder. “Constantinople,” he said. “Your father is in Constantinople. The city of Constantine. It has to be.”

  “Excuse me?” Elle said.

  He let out an incredulous laugh. “The most important event in two generations and no one to confirm what I witnessed,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair.

  “Marsh, have you completely lost your mind?”

  He recovered himself and stepped away from her. “Elle, you spoke as the Pythia. Pure and clear, just as was done in the legends of old. The volume of power you accessed and channeled a few moments ago was astonishing. I’ve never seen anything like it. You told me where your father is.”

  Elle felt herself grow excited. It felt like some part of her—the part that had always felt wrong—had clicked into place inside her. And it felt right. “Do you honestly believe that?” She eyed him.

  “I do.” He grew serious.

  “Well, then we need to go to Constantinople as soon as possible.”

  He sighed. “There is one more thing you need to know.”

  She frowned at him “What?”

  “It is said that Pythia should live out her days in silent contemplation and devotion,” he said.

  Elle dropped her arms. “You have got to be joking,” she said.

  “The Pythias of old lived in chastity in the temples, learning and meditating. Now that we know you are the Oracle, you must devote your life to your calling. We can stay at the hotel until the Council has prepared a place for you.”

  “But my mother lived with us. I was born after all.”

  “Vivienne ran away from the sanctuary to be with your father. And away from our protection, she went to her doom.” A look of sorrow crossed his face. “Elle, you are too important. We cannot afford to take any risks. You have to come with me so the Council can take you into their protection.”

  A terrible feeling of dread filled her. “Let me make sure I understand this correctly: I am to be locked away like a nun in a cloister, to live out my days in isolation so a council of old men can ask me things in order that they may further their political power?”

  “Not if I have any say in the matter,” he said. “I will make sure that you have every luxury and comfort you desire.”

  “So it’s to be gilded cage with velvet draperies then?”

  “Your life will be no different to the lives of other women. But instead of devotion to your husband you will be devoted to the Council. And they will revere you like a goddess. We should go. There is no time to waste.”

  Elle felt like the floor had given out from under her. She had to fight the urge to scream and hit him. “You!” she said, prodding his shoulder. “You have been plotting to bring me to this place all along, haven’t you?”

  He looked away. “Elle, it’s complicated. I needed to make sure that I was correct about you being the Oracle before I took any further steps,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Patrice was right. This has all been a conspiracy to drag me here. To this place. I bet my father’s abduction was just a ruse to get me here. Wasn’t it?”

  He looked shocked. “No, it’s not like that.”

  She folded her arms. “Then what is it like, Hugh Marsh? Tell me. Tell me that you haven’t been working towards recruiting me for your precious Council all along. Tell me you haven’t been plotting to get me here so they can use me as they wish.?”

  He remained silent.

  “Elle, you don’t understand.” He shook his head.

  She snorted. “I understand enough, it seems. And I’m not moving from this spot until you tell me the truth.”

  He sighed with exasperation. “Yes. The Council knows you are the Oracle. I notified them from Oxford.”

  “And how long have you known?”

  “Since the night we drove up from London. And our shared dream confirmed it. But many can walk the Shadow realm. I wanted to make sure, so I brought you here.”

  “So you have been stringing me along, cleverly leading me into your trap, haven’t you? And now I suppose I’m to be handed over like some prize to a life of slavery and servitude.”

  “I’m trying to find a way that will satisfy everyone. And you’re not making it easy for me.”

  “Easy for you?” She felt her anger rise. “And what if I don’t want to go?”

  “What you want is irrelevant. Don’t you understand? You alone have the power to ensure that order in our world is kept in balance. This is an awesome responsibility. You have a duty. A calling. You need to be trained. And I am here to help. And the Council will help too.”

  “And what about what I want,” she said softly.

  His expression grew gentler. “You need to think of the greater good, Elle. It’s not only about you anymore.”

  “But I would have to give up flying. My studies in physics. My father … Mrs. Hinges, Patrice. Everyone I love. This is my whole life you are talking about.”

  “I know this is a lot to take in, but in time you will see that I am right. You will be safe and cared for. I am sure that you’ will find contentment over time. You just have to give your new life a chance.”

  Elle folded her arms. “I am not going with you,” she said.

  He started. “Why on earth not?”

  “Why? You have to ask that?”

  He frowned. “You should be overjoyed. This is the biggest honor that there is for a woman. Even in these modern times,” he said.

  She felt herself grow angry. “ ‘For a woman.’ Is that what you think?”

  “You are making it sound all wrong.”

  She lifted her chin. “I won’t do it then. Only two people in the world know what I have just done. If you push me any further, I shall scream blue murder. I shall deny all knowledge of this business. You can’t make me.”

  He stared at her. “Elle, the Council can make you do this. I have fought hard with them to allow me to bring you to them of your own free will. The alternative does not bear thinking about.”

  She stepped away from him. “Don’t you dare. And if you do, then you will find that you have some careful explaining to do to the police as to why you lured a young woman unaccompanied into a room, with utterly improper intentions. I am sure the London papers would love a story about Viscount Greychester and h
is lascivious occult activities.”

  Marsh’s face grew still, his eyes hard with anger.

  Her insides trembled, but she held his gaze. She was bluffing of course, but right now bluffing was her only weapon. She was not going to allow herself to be dragged off to this new life without a fight.

  “I should remind you Miss Chance, that you are a thousand miles from England and entirely at my mercy for your survival.”

  Elle felt little waves of fear break inside her. This situation was becoming dangerous. Underneath her cloak, she reached for her Colt and took it into her hand. Carefully, she slipped the safety catch loose. The mechanism that loaded the bullets into the firing chamber clicked.

  Marsh frowned at the tiny sound.

  “I must say that it is nice to finally see your true colors, Mr. Marsh. Now that we both know what it is that you want.” Elle raised her arm and pointed the gun at him.

  “Take one step closer to me and I will shoot you where you stand. I am not bluffing.”

  He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.

  “Now take me back to the hotel. I wish to move to other accommodations. Without you.”

  She didn’t think it was possible, but his face grew even stonier and angrier. The silence stretched between them and Elle felt her bravado evaporate. He was bigger and stronger than her. Her little revolver only held three bullets. And there were many monks about, prepared to protect the Warlock amongst them. About a hundred other fearful thoughts flashed through her mind as the tense seconds ticked by.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he broke their standoff. “Very well, then,” he said. “What are your demands?” A deep sense of pain in his eyes accompanied his words.

  “I want to know where my father is. When I know he is safe, I wish for safe passage back to England.”

  “And if I don’t agree?”

  “A dispatch will be written and sent to The Times in London. If you or any Warlock comes anywhere near me, the paper will receive instructions to publish a full expose about the truth behind the Council, the lies they are telling. For added measure, there will also be information about Viscount Greychester and his lascivious occult fetish for forcing young women to do things against their will.”

  “As you wish.” All the friendliness and familiarity they had built up since Paris was gone. “I shall accede to your demands. But the Council of Warlocks does not have your father. The Alchemists have him and he is in Constantinople. I also cannot bind the Council in respect of your demands. The current Oracle is old and frail. She grows weaker every day. If you do not rise up and take the position, the Council must wait for you to die so a new Pythia may complete the process. And I cannot promise that they will wait for nature to take its course.”

  Elle shook with fear, but she forced herself to stay still. She needed to get out of this place, and the only way to achieve this was to remain in control. She would worry about the rest of the things he’d said as soon as it was safer. Right now, all she wanted to do was get off this island.

  “Let’s go. You first.” She motioned with the gun barrel.

  “There is one more thing you need to know about being the Oracle,” he Marsh said.

  “No, there is not. I don’t want to learn anything more about this. It is over.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Very well. May it be on your head then, Pythia who will be Oracle.”

  “And stop calling me that. My name is Eleanor.”

  CHAPTER 30

  The journey back to Venice on the boat felt much longer than it had on the way there. Elle’s fingers ached from gripping the revolver, but she kept it trained on Marsh under the folds of her cloak. He sat beside her in stony silence, looking deeply troubled, and he maintained his brooding presence all the way to the hotel.

  With her new portmanteau packed, she found a quiet little hotel with wrought-iron trelliswork in front of every window and large iron locks on every door. She paid for the room with the emergency money she carried tucked away inside her corset. It took a little while to convince them to accept sterling, but in the end, they relented.

  Safely inside her room, Elle sagged against the door, exhausted. The tiredness left a deep chill that seeped right into the marrow of her bones and she shivered at the profound strangeness of the sensation. As if in answer to her thoughts, the sun broke though the clouds and reached with watery light through the window casements. The sensation of warmth on her skin made her groan with delight. Sunshine and rest were what she needed. She raised her hand and studied the light as it fell over her, bathing everything inside the room in shadows and light. Everything except her.

  Elle stared at her arm with growing horror. She stood up and looked behind her. The chair cast a dark shape beside it. So did the little dresser and the washstand, but behind her was no familiar outline. The sunlight seemed to pass straight through her. It was almost as if she was no longer anchored to anything. As if her presence no longer made an impression, no matter how much she waved her arms or jumped up and down. She no longer cast a shadow.

  Elle felt the chill inside her return. Marsh had taken her threats seriously, which was unexpected, and she had bought herself a little time, but she was in big trouble. She needed to find a way to fix things, and there was no time to waste.

  Her stomach rumbled. She glanced at the clock, and she realized that she had missed lunch. Lost shadow or not, at least she was fairly sure she was still alive.

  She rang the bell for service and ordered a tray of tea and a plate of little balls of deep-fried rice that the Venetians favored. She also asked that stationery be brought to her room.

  She was writing furiously when her meal arrived. An hour and several cups of tea later, she bound the dispatch with string and sealed it with wax.

  With the papers in hand and with the revolver in place, she donned her cloak and locked the door behind her.

  Outside on the canal, she hailed a boat. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that no one was following her, she told the man to take her to the British Consulate. No one seemed to notice that her small, cloaked figure cast no shadow as she strode into the building.

  With her letter safely dispatched and a telegram sent to her uncle, she stopped off in a bookshop opposite the consulate. She found a convenient corner where she watched the street to make sure that no one intercepted her dispatch.

  She stood by the window until the owner politely coughed and asked if she needed assistance. Compelled to keep up appearances, she purchased a notebook and a novel. Satisfied that nobody was following her, she made her way back through the winding streets and little bridges, taking care to walk in the places where the buildings cast their shadows, so no one would notice her predicament.

  As she walked, she relaxed a little and her anxiety was replaced with a sense of sadness. Venice was achingly beautiful and she would have loved to visit this place under different circumstances.

  After the bookshop, she caught another boat to the shopping district. It took a little while, but she managed to find a jeweler who would give her a decent price on the earrings. She sold them for less than they were worth, but needs must. Not for the first time, she lamented the fact that the diamond bracelet was still stuck around her wrist. The jeweler tried to wedge the clasp open with one of his sharp little pliers, but to no avail. She would probably have to wear the dastardly thing for the rest of her life at this rate.

  Back at her hotel, she ordered a hot bath and more tea. She sipped the brew as she soaked in the hot water. What to do next? She watched the water trickle off her fingers. She was certainly in a fine mess—there was no mistaking that.

  A soft knock at the door interrupted her fretful thoughts. She got out of the tub and she stepped into her new dressing gown.

  “Signora.” It was one of the hotel maids. “A message has arrived for you.” She curtsied and proffered an envelope on a small tray. Elle thanked the maid and bolted the door again.

  She tore open the
seal on the envelope and pulled out a thick sheet of paper. It was addressed to her, written in a masculine hand.

  Elle,

  Words cannot convey how sorry I am about the manner in which we parted ways this afternoon. I hope you can accept my firmest assurances that I never intended to deceive you and that my intentions, while veiled, were honorable. I can only hope that in time you will forgive me for presuming too much.

  I accept that I can do nothing to change your mind, but hopefully the enclosed will assist you in your endeavors to find your father. Please accept it as a token of my apology. The train departs at 10 o’clock tomorrow morning. Please stay in your hotel until then. It is not safe in the city at night.

  Your servant, HM.

  She picked up the ticket that had fallen from the letter onto the floor. It was a return ticket to Constantinople. First class. What was Marsh playing at? She studied the gilt-edged ticket. It presented a tantalizing opportunity. A berth on the Orient Express would take her directly to Constantinople within three days. Even with the money she had got for the earrings, she would only be able to afford third class, and that would take her an extra day. A dirigible flight was even more expensive. She would have to wait for her uncle to wire money to her. If he agreed to help her; and that was a maybe at best, she would be delayed in Venice for a week. It was a perfect conundrum.

  Take the ticket. You must hurry. There is no time to lose … do not tarry here in this place. It is not safe. She shivered as she felt voices whisper to her.

  “All right, I’ll take the train, but only if you promise to keep quiet!” she said to the voices. She needed to find her father so she could return to her old life as soon as possible, before she completely lost her mind.

  The girl who casts no shadow did not sleep at all well that night. Over and over she woke from muddled dreams, unsure of where she was, afraid of crossing over to the realm of Shadows again. I could sense that she searched for the Warlock in the dark. But all that met her was silence. The girl believed that she was completely alone and abandoned. She hugged her pillow and sighed in the dark. She did not know we were there, ghosts and fairies watching over her. But humans are often ungrateful.