He found himself, almost against his will, becoming interested in the work of alchemy. He had always understood that the goal of the work was not riches or immortality but the creation of a perfect Stone, a mineral forged from the union of opposites. That the Stone, being perfect, could change ordinary metal to gold, or restore a sick man to health, was an added benefit, but not what the true alchemist sought.
King István, he found, had a well-stocked library, and Dee spent a part of every day there, studying the alchemists who had gone before him. They spoke of many different unities: of
mercury and sulphur, man and woman, sun and moon, sperm and blood. He began to understand that these were not allegories, or that if they were they pointed to something beyond the creation of a Philosopher's Stone. There was more here than Kelley, with his desire for riches, had realized.
So he puttered around his laboratory, pouring and heating and cooling various substances. Sometimes he ventured out into the town to find the things he needed. And always, as he worked, he felt he was growing closer to something, something that lay just beyond his grasp.
The only thing to break his loneliness was his suppers with Magdalena. She kept the shape of the crone; it took too much effort, she said, to change back and forth. Dee could not help but feel relieved at this; he found it much easier to talk to her when she looked like an old woman.
He asked her, a few times, about her time on the streets, but she would not discuss it except to say that her life had been in danger more than once. So they talked about the letters he had received from Loew, about what made a righteous man or woman, about the town and the people in the castle.
“Do you remember Zoltán and László at the alchemists' tavern?” he asked. “One of themâI could never tell them apartâhad jewels braided in his beard. I thought that was a Hungarian fashion, but I don't see anyone doing it here.”
“László, yes,” she said. “It was a fashion, but hundreds of years ago. They were always very pretentious, those alchemists.”
“And yet they had some knowledge, even some wisdom.”
“That's true,” she said. She studied him a moment. He could still not see her features clearly; he knew now that that was part of her magic. “You've changed since you got here,” she said finally. “Once you would have scoffed at the idea that these men had any wisdom at all.”
He shrugged. “I've become like Rabbi Loew, I suppose. Anyone might turn out to be the thirty-sixth, anyone at all. Everyone is worth listening to.”
“Except Erzsébet,” she said, grinning.
“Even Erzsébet. We don't know that she's done anything wrong.”
“Oh, comeâyou can't believe that. I hear things, coming from her rooms ⦠.”
He remembered the screams, the sobs. “I do, too,” he said uncomfortably.
“There, you see. I have to go back in there, have to find out what she's up to.”
“You can't. It's far too dangerous. She's already seen you once. And you'll change shape there, you know that. You can't risk anyone seeing that happen.”
“But what if she's torturing people, or poisoning them? What happened to Judit?”
“It's not our businessâ”
“You've said that. But I think it is. It's my business, anyway. I know what it's like to be terrified, to be at someone's mercy. I'm going in there.”
“You can'tâ”
“Why not? Are you saying you'll stop me?”
“No,” he said miserably. “I can't stop youâI know that. I'm just saying that you should think about it, you should be careful.”
“I have thought about it, and I will be careful. There's been some talk in the kitchens about Erzsébet and her party going hunting. I'll wait until then, and then slip inside. It'll be perfectly safe.”
“When are they going?”
“I don't know yet. I'll find out.”
He sighed. “I'll have to go with you, then.”
“No you don't.”
“Yes I do. I don't like thinking of anything happening to you. You're far too impulsive. I used to wonder why, when I thought you were an old woman. And anywayâ” He raised his hand to forestall argument. “âI want a look at that book of Marie's.”
LOEW BORROWED A HORSE AND RODE SOUTH TO TREBONA to the estate of Count Vilém of Rosenberg. The estate spread out before him for miles; he saw breweries, sheep farms, workshops and outbuildings and artificial ponds. He had been able to get away from his teaching duties for two days, but he did not see how he could find Vilém's servant in such a short time. He tied his horse to a tree and set off.
In the first workshop he came to he saw a group of women making soap. He asked if they knew Petr, but they shook their heads and went back to their work.
The second outbuilding contained a huge table holding alembics and pipes and minerals and vials of various-colored liquids. A furnace huffed softly in the corner. So Vilém, like Rudolf, was an alchemist. Somehow this did not surprise him; a great many noblemen had caught the desire to find the Philosopher's Stone from the emperor.
“Hey!” someone said behind him. “What are you doing here?”
Loew turned, startled. The man was tall and well-dressed and carried a clear glass bottle; probably he did experiments for Vilém in the workshop.
“I'm looking for one of Count Vilém's servants. A man named Petr.”
For a moment he hoped that this man would be Petr, that the thirty-sixth would turn out to be a scholar after all. “Don't know him,” the man said. He studied Loew suspiciously, taking
in the unfashionable clothes and the yellow circle. “Did Rudolf send you?”
“What? No, I'm here on my own.”
“Because Rudolf wants milord's secrets, I know that much. And he's been known to consort with Jews, to study Kabbalah. Back away from the door, please. Milord doesn't let anyone in here but me.”
Loew moved away cautiously. “I'm looking for Petr,” he said. “That's all.”
“I've already told you I don't know him. If you don't leave now I'll call the guards.”
Loew set off again. Fortunately the man entered the workshop and did not see Loew head farther into the estate.
Several hours later he was no wiser. A number of people thought they had heard of Petr, but they could not agree on whether he worked in the main house or the stables or on the sheep farm. He saw another alchemical workshop, this one with nobody in it, and wondered how many alchemists Vilém thought he needed. Once a couple of guard dogs chased him from a building, tails wagging, mad with delight at being called upon to do their job.
Evening came on. He headed back through the estate to where he had left his horse, and rode to his lodgings.
He had no better luck when he returned to the estate the next day, though he did catch a glimpse of Count Vilém and his wife Polyxena riding through their lands. Polyxena was far younger than her husband; one of the people Loew had talked to had said that she was his fourth wife, the daughter of Spanish nobility.
Discouraged, he rode back to Prague. Petr did not seem to work anywhere on the land. He was probably a servant in the manor house, but Loew could not think of a credible reason
for presenting himself at the door. Perhaps if he said he was an alchemist ⦠.
An alchemist. Yes. When he reached his house he went straight to his study and began to write to Dee, summarizing what he had learned in Trebona. Then he added:
“It occurs to me that you might have better luck. Perhaps you could pose as a scholar of the occult (this would be no pose, really) and spend a few days on the estate. Count Vilém would certainly be interested in meeting someone with your knowledge. I don't know if he would keep your visit secret from Rudolf, but considering his rivalry with the king I think it's possible that he might.
“The names left on the list are: traveler, Jewish Quarter; beggar, Town Square; and Wolfgang, counselor to the king. I have been unable to discover who the first two are, and as for the third, I have been staying out of the king's sight, for reasons you well know. But I will, of course, continue to work on this puzzle.”
A FEW DAYS LATER. DEE AND MAGDALENA STOOD BY DEE'S slightly-open door and watched as Countess Erzsébet and her party filed by. When the last woman passed down the stairs they waited a moment and then crossed the hall and let themselves into Erzsébet's rooms.
The rooms were dim; both Dee and Magdalena carried candles. As they entered Magdalena's shape blurred and shifted. Although Dee was waiting for it he still startled at the change. In a moment a young woman stood before him, her posture straight, her eyes blue as the base of the candle flame.
The transformation had absorbed him so strongly that he had not noticed anything else about his surroundings. Now he
could smell the bad odor Magdalena had told him about, like something stale and decaying. He scowled, and Magdalena, catching his thought, whispered, “What is it, do you think?”
“Rotting food?” he said, whispering as well. “You're rightâthey certainly don't do a good job of cleaning here.”
“Marie's room is this way,” she said, leading him down a corridor and through one of the doors.
As soon as he stepped inside he saw the book, which she had left on a table by her bed. He held his candle over it and saw the word “Bible” printed on the cover. “Look,” he said, pointing to it.
“That doesn't mean anything. It's a book of poisons, like I told you. Open it up.”
He did. At first he was confused, not able to make sense of the words. Then he realized the book was in French.
“What does it say?” Magdalena asked impatiently.
“Don't you read French?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then how did you read the part about the poisons?”
“It's in there, trust me.”
Suddenly Dee understood. He laughed.
“What is so amusing?” Magdalena asked, scowling.
“Look.” He turned the pages until he came to the Book of Matthew. “It's a Bible, just as it says. Look here, it says âpain et poissons.'” He laughed again, louder this time.
“Quiet. See, it's a book of poisons. Why are you laughing?”
“It's in French. Marie is from France, remember. This means âloaves and fishes.' It's the fifteenth chapter of Matthew, where Jesus feeds the multitude with seven loaves of bread and some fishes.”
“It meansâit's really a Bible?”
“Yes. They're not poisoning anyone, or torturing them. Marie is a genuinely religious person, and all those screams we
heard came from someone who was really ill. There's nothing at all suspicious here.”
“What happened to the person who was ill, then?”
“She recovered, I suppose. Comeâwe'd better leave before someone finds us.”
They went out into the corridor, Magdalena leading. Just then they heard the sound of a door opening, and voices coming into the rooms. Dee stepped back into the room but it was too lateâthey had already seen Magdalena.
“Who are you?” someone asked. That was Erzsébet, Dee thought. “What are you doing here?”
“Weren't you in our rooms before?” an unfamiliar voice said, probably Anna. “What are you doing, spying on us?”
“My, she's a young one, isn't she?” Erzsébet said.
Dee stood, irresolute, wondering if he should reveal himself or stay where he was. Nothing bad would happen to Magdalena, though; the countess and her women were innocent, they had proved that much. And he would not like to explain to King István what he was doing in Erzsébet's rooms.
He raised his candle, trying to penetrate the shadows around him. There was an open door in front of him; he went through it as quietly as he could.
“Young and healthy looking,” he heard Anna say from the front room.
“I think she'll do fine,” Erzsébet said. “What's that light out there? Is someone else here with you? Another young one like yourself?”
They were coming toward him. He lifted the bed covering, blew out his candle and dove underneath. The smell was much stronger here.
He felt something clammy under the bed with him. He turned, reached out to touch it. It was skin, but cold, very cold. He moved his hand, felt long strands of hair.
He nearly screamed. Magdalena did scream, loudly. “Help
me!” she called. “Help!” Her cries became muffled, as though someone had clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Marie, help me get her into the bath,” Erzsébet said. “And you, Anna, go see where that light came from. She seems to expect someone to rescue her.”
Footsteps came toward the door. Quickly, he clambered out from under the bed. Before Anna's eyes could grow accustomed to the dim light he grabbed the nearest thing to handâa fireplace pokerâand swung it at her head.