The Secrets of Life and Death (28 page)

‘I never questioned it until Helen was killed in that barbaric manner. My primary aim has always been to find the creature that killed my sister, and destroy it.’

Felix looked around the arches, up to the carved and painted ceiling. ‘A woman came to visit my office at the university. She looked somewhat like an older version of your sister. She called herself Bachmeier.’

‘That’s what they do. These fiends take on the appearance of their victims.’ He rubbed his hand over his face. ‘It has been the hardest thing for me to hunt her, looking like Helen. But I will catch her, and kill her.’

Felix frowned, confused. ‘But what does this woman want with Sadie?’

McNamara locked eyes with him. ‘You have no idea what Bachmeier is, do you?’

‘I know she has the power to mesmerise people.’ He pulled out the dark carving Amusaa had given him. ‘She tried to persuade my assistant to hand over some documents I have about the original symbols. This reduced her power over us.’

McNamara brought out an ornamented crucifix from a pocket, about as long as his hand. ‘This is my defence against her.’

‘Have you met her?’

‘Once.’ McNamara shuddered. ‘She let me live. I think she likes the idea of her victims suffering. But she will kill the child.’

‘Why?’

McNamara took a deep breath, as if trying to decide how much to say to Felix. ‘If I tell you, I break my sacred vow and give you information my enemies can use. Do you understand?’

‘I am not your enemy. I want to know why you, and this woman, want to get hold of a fourteen-year-old girl.’

McNamara leaned forward, hissing the answer at him. ‘Because this woman can only prolong her unnatural existence in one way. She must drain the blood of another revenant, until she drinks in her last moments of life.’

‘That demons possess men I have no doubt; also angels, who first communicated to me when I was a student at Cambridge. Here one spoke through me whenever I was cup-shotten, which made me eschew becoming intoxicated by liquors forthwith. They bade me seek out John Dee, and through me, he was able to speak directly with divine beings. I never doubted that they were angels, and that they would not lead us astray.’

Edward Kelley
From his own journal, 13 December 1585
Csejte

I had little time to wallow in the shame of my actions because Dee woke me in my bed at dawn. Mercifully, I was alone, but his eyes were so wild and his demeanour so upset I was distracted from my own concerns.

‘Edward, you must get up now,’ he whispered. He raised his hand to his lips. ‘Not a word, dear friend, just come and see what I have been working on.’

I slipped into the robe I had been lent, and my boots, and joined Dee within a few minutes. A splash of cold water upon my face had brought me awake, and I stood wiping my face on a square of linen, looking down at a table covered in pieces of vellum and open books.

‘These symbols are described by this Batthyány as being involved with healing.’ His hand swept over the open pages. ‘And these are from the Soyga notes I brought from London.’

I recognised the elaborate diagrams in Dee’s hand. But the figures sketched out on squares of vellum were different. ‘And these?’

‘These are the symbols inscribed into the countess’s skin. Here,’ he pointed to a star-shaped one, ‘and here, are shapes I believe have been wrongly transcribed from another tradition. Take these …’

He swept aside the notes to reveal a pattern he had drawn upon the dark wood of the table, in chalk. I recognised the ring of letters immediately. It was the circle of necromancy.

‘These symbols do not bolster a failing life energy or heal sickness. They are to bind a soul to a dying – or dead – body. This is not the work of God, Edward, this is not strengthening the weak. This poor lady isn’t ill, but living beyond her natural span.’

I could see how upset he was, his eyes looking over the scattered notes as if looking for something to refute his conclusions.

‘Master Dee,’ I ventured, lifting the oddments one by one. ‘We need to be careful. It would not be politick to say such things to the count.’

‘I have no doubt, Edward, that we are in as much danger as we have ever been. I cannot see how we might satisfy the count and travel back to Krakow.’

I straightened a few books. ‘The evil is done, surely? Having been created by such unnatural magics, our work is simply to strengthen the poor lady.’

He looked at me as a disappointed father might frown. ‘To sustain evil is as bad as creating evil. We cannot help the countess.’

‘Master Dee. We are prisoners in this castle, among these savage people. You will condemn yourself to die by refusing to help.’

‘If necessary.’

I took a deep breath, to confront my master. ‘And you condemn me, also.’

Here his distress showed on his features. ‘I am sorry for that, truly—’

‘Not to mention Mistress Jane and Mrs Kelley, and your children, who I love as my own. What will happen to them, alone in Krakow?’

His mouth opened but he could find no words.

I added my next argument to the pile. ‘Saraquel did not tell you to foreswear helping the lady; you know he did not. Indeed, he described for you the very symbols you seek.’

Dee nodded slowly. ‘He did.’

‘Dear sir, if we save this poor lady, who is as much a victim as anyone, we can ask for an escort back to Krakow and get out of the country.’

Dee looked shocked. ‘Edward, this is sorcery, and you know I have foresworn all magics.’

‘Yet you used foxfire on the road against the wolves.’

A faint flush darkened his cheeks above the flowing beard. ‘In a moment of intense danger, Edward. My affection for you made me incautious. But this must be my decision, as your preceptor and master.’

‘Look at the danger we are in now!’ I moderated my tone. ‘Sir, sometimes the worst, most vile things, have good consequences.’ I took a deep breath. ‘The child that died, the one that came to the castle.’

‘Yes?’ His tone was cooler than I was used to, but courteous.

‘I fear that her life, her blood, was taken for sorcery.’

‘In what way?’ he scoffed. ‘For what purpose?’

‘It was used by witches, forest women.’ I took a deep breath, for I knew the words must hurt my old friend. ‘It was done to save you.’

Jack was astonished at how much Sadie could discover with the computer in one evening. After breakfast, they sat down again on the floor of the study and turned on the laptop Felix had left them. First, Jack called Charley, and found Maggie had been taken to hospital but her injuries were not life-threatening. Having lured the intruders to follow her, she had clipped a reversing tractor and overturned the car. Charley had confirmed that apart from a mild concussion and a sprained wrist, Maggie would be fine.

Sadie also spent an emotional few minutes showing Jack the good wishes that had been set up on a webpage for missing teens. Messages from family, friends, schoolmates and neighbours had been left every day. ‘Come home … we miss you … we’re not angry, just let us know you are OK …’

Jack wanted to distract her. ‘Sadie, could you look for any mention of Melissa Harcourt?’

Sadie tapped the keyboard. She scrolled down a list of results. ‘That’s your name, isn’t it? I found your notebook.’ She clicked on one line. ‘This might be you.’

Jack was transported back to the dining hall at school, the smell of cabbage and custard, the polished bench. One chance to smile, and then the next child was sent along. The girl in the picture had a puzzled half-smirk, as if the photographer had just missed the real grin. She could remember her hair band pulling her scalp, her mother’s insistence that she have everything smart for the school portrait. Mum and Dad always bought several copies for her grandparents. She snatched a deep breath, as something tugged in her chest. Grandma Lydia, was she still alive? She would be over eighty now.

‘That’s you, isn’t it?’ Sadie sounded uncertain, looking at Jack.

The headline above the photograph was ‘Yorkshire’s Child Abduction Mystery – Finally Solved?’

‘What does it say?’ Jack looked away from the screen, after a quick glance at a picture of her parents in front of their old house.

Sadie read off the screen, in a subdued voice. ‘“The body of a girl has been found … between ten and thirteen … examination of the remains, including DNA tests, are on-going.”’ She looked up. ‘But they know it wasn’t you. There’s a link to a later article, saying it’s someone else.’

‘What does it say?’ Jack stood up, and looked out of the window.

‘Your mum was upset it wasn’t you. Maybe she needed closure.’ Sadie hesitated for a moment. ‘Why didn’t you ever contact them once you grew up? You didn’t, did you?’ She closed the lid on the laptop with a soft click.

‘They would have called the police. They would have wanted to know what happened, and at that age, how could I have explained? Besides, I wasn’t as strong as you; I couldn’t have coped away from the circle for very long. They would never have understood the potions, the tattoos …’

When Jack looked back at Sadie the girl was crying into her hands. ‘I miss my mum so badly,’ she said, her voice muffled.

‘I know.’ Jack crossed the hall to the cloakroom to pull off a length of tissue for Sadie, but when she handed it over she found her own eyes were stinging. ‘Here. We’ve got to keep our focus, so we’ll be ready for whatever Felix will tell us.’

Sadie sniffed, warded off the dog who had wandered over when she started crying, and opened the laptop again.

Jack handed her a sheaf of notes. ‘Here are a few ideas Felix had last night, he jotted them on the back.’

‘Did you sleep with him?’ The question dangled in the air, and Jack couldn’t breathe for a moment. She didn’t know how to answer, there was no frame of reference for it. Sadie carried on, still typing. ‘It’s obvious you fancy each other. I just wondered.’

Jack’s voice sounded prim and high-pitched when she answered. ‘I slept downstairs, on the sofa. Alone, of course. I don’t …’ She ran out of words.

‘I just wondered. I don’t really care.’ Sadie looked at Jack from under long eyelashes, her blue eyes inquisitive. ‘He’s pretty old, anyway.’

Jack opened her mouth to protest, then shut it when she saw the mischief on Sadie’s face. ‘There are more important things to think about. Like keeping us all safe.’

The key squeaking in the lock alerted her to Felix’s return. She brushed by him in the hall, unable to meet his eye. ‘I’m putting the kettle on,’ she threw over her shoulder.

‘Great.’ Felix hung his coat on a hook by the kitchen door and followed her in. ‘I’ve ordered the police reports, I can pick them up later. Jack …’

He looked awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say. She turned back to the cups and clattered a spoon into one with unnecessary force. ‘What?’

‘I met with Stephen McNamara.’ His voice was low, as if trying to stop Sadie hearing. ‘Helen McNamara’s brother. He is an inquisitor, as Sadie said.’

‘What?’ She turned to face him. ‘You might have led him straight here!’

‘No. No, I haven’t. He’s not after Sadie.’

‘He came to my house, soaked it in petrol and tried to kidnap Sadie! You can’t trust him.’ Words piled up in her throat. ‘How could you, Felix?’ The betrayal choked her.

‘Look, I didn’t seek him out, he found me. He was at the police station.’ He stepped towards her as she pulled away, then reached out to catch her by the shoulders. ‘Listen to me, Jack. Trust me.’

Why should I trust you?
She looked into his eyes, dark green, and watched his expression change from frustration to something else, something that made his breath come faster and eyes wander to her mouth.

‘Because I like you, Jack. I like Sadie.’ He shook her lightly for emphasis. ‘And the reason I trust what he’s saying, is because he told me why everyone is after Sadie.’

‘Go on.’ Somehow her anger had transmuted itself into something softer.

‘He thinks this Bachmeier woman needs Sadie’s blood to stay alive. He thinks Bachmeier is some sort of creature, not human any more.’

Jack remembered the woman’s face, stripped of its glamour. ‘So she really could be older?’

‘He believes that she takes on some characteristics of the person she kills. That’s why she reminds us of the picture of his sister.’ He dropped his voice. ‘She wants to feed on Sadie. The Inquisition want to stop her. They were going to use Sadie … for bait. To catch this woman.’

Jack pulled away from Felix’s hands and led the way into the study. ‘We’ve discovered things, too. Sadie?’

The girl had moved to the desk, her eyes looking huge in the light from the screen.

‘We’ve found out more about Edward Kelley,’ she said, without looking up. ‘Have you got those old papers Jack was talking about?’

Felix pulled out a folder, and leafed through the papers. ‘I assumed they were by Edward Kelley from the content.’

Sadie spread some of the photocopies over the desk, a dozen or so of them, then Felix’s transcripts. She frowned. ‘Your notes are as badly written as the original.’

‘Well, I’ve left the Latin bits, as I can read those.’

As she bent her head over the papers, she started reading aloud. ‘“That whych … sustayns the countess shall be the detrimente of every chylde in the castle … ”’

‘I think,’ began Felix, ‘I’m not sure, but Dee was trying to help a noblewoman in Hungary. I think he was working on creating someone like you, or at least refining her treatment.’

‘Making a borrowed timer?’ Sadie turned back to her notes, her mouth moving as she continued reading.

Jack sipped her tea, watching Felix as he read his own notes.

‘Here. Something about using symbols of necromancy, not healing,’ Felix said. ‘I got that far.’

He was interrupted by a thunderous banging on the door. The dog jumped up, and Jack caught him.

‘Police! Open up.’

‘Oh, shit.’ Jack felt as if the floor was shuddering under her feet.

Sadie was standing, looking around the room, her eyes wide. She stuffed the papers into a pile, and hugged them against her chest. ‘There’s nowhere to hide.’