Chapter 22

AUbrEY

The next day

“This whole thing is madness,” Calix said as they prepared themselves to tackle Convergence and the vault once again.

“At the bare minimum, I’d say,” Aubrey murmured drolly while running his hand up and down Calix’s back. They’d barely slept and were now huddled around the small cook’s table in the kitchen while Martha, the cook, bustled about, tutting over how pale and skinny Calix appeared.

“I’d say what’s madness is that none of you are feeding him properly,” Martha sniffed. “Must I do everything around here?”

Calix let out a snort that was only half-laugh, then rested his head on his stacked forearms. “Martha, it’s not their fault. And I’m grown, remember?”

“You won’t stop me from fretting, Calix. You ought to know better by now.” With ruthless efficiency, Martha plunked down a plate of warm, sliced bread and jam. The scent was so enticing it made Calix lift his head, and the moment he did, Martha pursed her lips in what looked like an aborted smile.

Aubrey liked this woman quite a lot, and it was clear she held a great deal of affection for Calix. But he had to laugh when she snapped her fingers at Ethaniel, who was busy drinking enough tea to fill a bathtub. “You. Ethaniel? Right, you come help me with this pot. It’s too heavy for my old back and you look strong. I’d ask Richard, but Calix said the poor boy’s not well today.”

Ethaniel stared wide-eyed at Aubrey, and he made a shooing motion with his free hand. “Well, go on. Help the lovely lady.”

Martha let out a snort. “Ain’t been called ‘lovely’ since 1860.” Then she shot Aubrey a small smile and said, “But I’ll take it.”

Ethaniel wandered off after her, so Aubrey claimed his still-warm tea cup and drained the rest. The black tea was strong enough to wake the dead and it sang on Aubrey’s palette. Ethaniel would drink straight black tea all day long if he had the chance, but Aubrey knew the man was always far too busy running the shop and dealing with his uncle to indulge. He hoped they would all get the chance to linger over cups of tea and fresh bread and not have the threat of danger looming like a stormcloud.

“She’s going to run Ethaniel ragged if possible,” Calix murmured. They watched Martha direct Ethaniel to put the pot on the stove, then retrieve a bag of potatoes from the pantry. Ethaniel shot Aubrey a look that screamed help me, and with a sigh, Aubrey complied. “You stay,” he ordered Calix. To his shock, Calix shifted further down in his seat and poured more tea. “Good.”

When Martha was settled and happily whistling while peeling potatoes, Aubrey led the charge outside. Calix still carried the book, now wrapped in a scrap of fabric he’d swiped from Martha’s sewing bin. The rain had cleared, leaving the gardens a soggy mess, and a low mist swirled about their ankles as they trudged forward to the mausoleum.

Aubrey’s gaze lingered on the three large stone edifices. “They’re a tad unsettling. I’m surprised the previous families never wanted to move the mausoleums.”

Calix shrugged. “My mother always said it was their wish to let the dead rest where they’d been entombed, and that disrupting those wishes would be a grievous sin.” Then he frowned and said, “Considering she wasn’t a religious person, it always struck me as strange.”

Aubrey nodded, sensing an old wound he didn’t want to reopen. “We’re certain…it will behave? I’d rather not dodge another magic bullet, so to speak.”

Aubrey looked to Calix, who nodded, then to Ethaniel, whose tight frown and downcast eyes said so much. Ethaniel found eye contact difficult when his emotions ran high, and with the wind pulling at his queue of long brown hair, his coat fluttering behind him, he looked like a brooding hero ready for whatever lay ahead. But Aubrey didn’t like the little furrow between Ethaniel’s brows, or how tightly he’d stuffed his hands into his pockets. There was certainly more on Ethaniel’s mind than the book.

Carefully, Calix unwrapped the book, then with a great sigh, he opened it. Power crackled through Aubrey’s entire body as that gray-green mist rose from the pages once more, and the dread that lingered settled as much over his skin as it did in his belly. He hated this thing, but couldn’t help his curiosity. Maybe one day he’d get to study it, push his power into those pages and discover what truly lay inside. One day, perhaps.

The face appeared once more, clawed hands clinging to the edges of the book as Calix held it as far away as his arms would allow. “Does our accord still stand?” Calix asked.

“It does.” The voice writhed and wriggled under Aubrey’s skin, as if it could find all his old wounds and bruises, a lifetime of small injuries, and reopen them. If it was a threat, it was an effective one. He tensed, waiting.

“Good. We’re going inside. Don’t anger my mother’s tomb,” Calix warned.

“We have an accord,” Convergence said, as if Calix were a small child incapable of understanding.

Calix looked at him and Ethaniel. “Let’s go.”

Aubrey took the book from Calix while he undid the mausoleum’s defenses. Aubrey saw all that magic dance across Calix’s hands, zipping up his arms and across his neck and chest as he glowed golden and warm.

“It’s like being next to a small sun,” Ethaniel whispered in Aubrey’s ear. “He’s beautiful.”

“He is.”

Something cracked across the wind, and Calix’s glow flickered, then faded, and the door to the mausoleum swung open. In his hands, Convergence’s visage swirled, those unblinking black pits for eyes swinging around as if it could peer inside. It was an unnerving sight, and Aubrey didn’t want to admit to how relieved he was when Calix took the book once more.

“Inside, Oracle,” Convergence rasped.

The mausoleum’s granite walls and floors were clear of debris, but spiderwebs and dust lingered in the corners. In the middle of a space roughly the size of a small parlor sat a single tomb, its sharp edges carved with elaborate filigree work and glinting with gold. At its base sat a small plaque that read:

LILY ADDINGTON

“WITH SIGHTLESS EYES AND FLIGHTLESS WINGS, SHE IS BORNE ALOFT”

No dates, no “devoted mother” or “will be missed by all” lines. It was the oddest memorial plaque Aubrey had ever seen, and from the way Ethaniel was staring, he felt something similar.

Calix handed Aubrey Convergence, then bent a knee before his mother’s tomb and laid a reverent hand upon the cool stone.

“Hello, Mother,” Calix whispered. “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

In Aubrey’s hands, Convergence swirled, fathomless eyes staring forward. “You hide power below,” it said, a note of glee in its voice. “I want to see it. You promised me freedom.”

Calix snapped his head up, confusion marring his fine features. Aubrey felt that bit of dread in his belly bloom, a springtime flower unfurling for the first proper sunlight. “Everything in the vault is negated or dead.”

“No,” Convergence said, the glee building. It was almost giddy. “Take me. I wish to see.”

Calix looked at them, his gaze pleading. “Can either of you sense anything? Ethaniel, with your patterns—”

Ethaniel nodded gravely. “Give me a moment. Aubrey, would you…”

Aubrey understood. Out of the three of them, Ethaniel was the most wary around Convergence. He stepped back as far as he could, his back now to the opposite wall. “What are you playing at?” Aubrey asked Convergence quietly. “Calix said the items in the vault are dead. Why lie?”

The head swiveled again and the eyes juttered, then settled. It tipped its chin up to meet Aubrey’s gaze, then said, “I do not lie. I have never lied. Falsehoods are part of a game played by humans and demons alike, young magician. The vault contains magic. I can feel it. It tears through me like a wound, and yet I cannot resist its claws.” Convergence’s own claws gripped the edge of the book tighter. “I want to see.”

“Patience,” Aubrey hissed. “You will wait.”

The visage’s mouth snapped shut, but Aubrey doubted it would stay quiet for long. He was honestly surprised it even reacted.

Ethaniel stood roughly fifteen feet away now, eyes closed, hands held before him with fingers outstretched. He looked like a painter trying to frame up a scene for his next masterpiece. Aubrey could imagine Ethaniel paint-speckled and beautiful in the late afternoon light, his dark brown hair tied back, lips moving as he whispered to himself to make art from the world around him. No worries about magic and family and a book waiting with maw open. Just them. Together. When his gaze snagged on Calix, Ethaniel’s power flared in the corner of Aubrey’s eyes and they both turned to watch.

Ethaniel was effulgent. Glorious. The very air around him quivered with a color like the waters of the Mediterranean, unnameable and vibrant and so very alive. Ethaniel’s eyes glowed softly, a match to the light building between his hands. Tiny threads of pure magic spread out, from fingertip to fingertip and back again, until Aubrey saw it coalesce into a web. But it had a squarish frame to it, and inside was something Aubrey couldn’t even comprehend. It should have been neat and orderly and flat, exactly like a spiderweb. But this had depth; zigs where it should have zagged, curves and hills and valleys where it should have been all straight lines. And most shocking of all, it had shape. Ethaniel was building a bit of magic between his hands and it had dimension and weight.

It was art and architecture and Aubrey felt its power beating beneath his skin. At first he’d wished he had his monocle, so he might see the intricacies even better, but with the pulsing in his body, some kind of pain-pleasure level of ecstasy he couldn’t fully understand, Aubrey had no need of it. He could feel Ethaniel’s magic inside of him.

“There’s a lot of magic inside that vault,” Ethaniel finally said as the glow slowly faded. “A lot. But it’s not like anything I’ve ever seen before. With many objects, I might be able to see bits and pieces of each pattern of their magic. But this feels like little pieces of one large tapestry, so to speak.”

“What?” Calix croaked. Aubrey saw how pale he was and moved closer, lending Calix an arm on which to lean. Calix took it, wrapping his hands around Aubrey’s bicep and squeezing. His hands shook.

Aubrey didn’t know what to say. They were all likely thinking it — that Calix’s mother, the woman he clearly adored, had lied to him. And quite a lot, it would seem. The betrayal, the pain Calix must feel. What could Aubrey say to help abate that? Calix’s inherent ability to trust was simply who he was at his core, and he’d been taken advantage of yet again. With anyone else, Aubrey might have called them naive, and maybe Calix was to a degree. But trust was a tougher thing to swallow whole than cynicism. Aubrey worried this new betrayal might turn something in Calix that could never be righted.

Words might be difficult in such circumstances, but actions always lead to something. “Can you open the vault, Calix?” Aubrey asked after several silent moments.

“Yes,” Convergence hissed. All of them startled, but Aubrey’s instinct was to snarl at the thing in his hand. So he did. Convergence didn’t seem bothered. “Open the vault, Oracle. So much power.”

With a nasty glare at the book, Calix finally, even if haltingly, moved to the wall opposite the one Aubrey had been leaning on. Palms again flat to the cold stone, Calix breathed out and closed his eyes. Again, there was a golden glow, and again Aubrey was stunned at how beautiful they both had been when bathed in their magic. Calix his miniature sun, Ethaniel his endless ocean.

Beyond the wall, gears churned and clanked, and slowly the wall slid open to reveal a staircase. It was a very short, chilly descent into what turned out to be a natural cave. Aubrey heard water drip somewhere in the distance, and as they moved forward, torches on the wall flared to life.

“My mother’s favorite place besides Rosehill,” Calix said glumly as they walked into a space twice the size of the Collectio’s workroom. On the natural shelves in the rock wall were dozens and dozens of strange objects. All of them silent.

Aubrey itched to explore, but Convergence said, “Yes. Yes. I can feel it here. A soul phylactery. I felt its stirrings before but here….the energy. Life. Blood.”

Ethaniel eyed the book with disdain. “And if we can get you…transferred into this soul phylactery, then we’ve made good on our promise. Like we agreed.”

“A deal,” Convergence said, head swiveling as if to see Ethaniel better. “A deal, yes. We agreed.”

The temptation to slam the book shut had Aubrey gritting his teeth, but when his attention snapped to Calix, the man had stepped before a short shelf just to their right. He was staring down at a handful of objects and, unable to resist the siren song of the strange and mystical any longer, Aubrey joined him. Ethaniel lent his support from the other side, putting a hand on Calix’s shoulder.

“Do you think it’s one of these?” Aubrey asked. “I don’t feel anything. I don’t usually need to touch something to know if it’s dead or not and I feel…nothing.”

“Nothing?” Calix echoed, disbelieving. There was a glassy look to his eyes that Aubrey didn’t like. “At all?”

“No. But let’s ask the expert.” Aubrey set the book down on another shelf and waited for Convergence to reorient before asking, “Care to help us out, or are you content to simply ask for power and let us do all the work?”

Ethaniel let out a snort and even Calix cracked a smile at that. Aubrey supposed he probably looked a little silly, talking back to a book with some ghostly image rising from its pages. Perhaps the strain of the entire debacle was finally turning his brain to mush.

“A moment,” the book said.

They gave Convergence a moment. While they did, Aubrey turned to the others and said, “Ethaniel, did you see any particular patterns that were stronger?”

Ethaniel shook his head. “It was just…power. A giant ball of it, all connected together.” Then he paused. “Oh. Well, is that even possible?” He ran his hand through the air a mere inch above the objects.

Ethaniel had this habit that Aubrey always found adorable. When he was truly focused, the tiniest bit of his tongue would poke out, as if he wanted to bite his lip but knew it would hurt, so his tongue got in the way. Aubrey watched him do so now and realized, with a burst of joy, that Calix was staring at Ethaniel, too.

“Is what even possible?” Calix prodded.

Ethaniel turned to survey the cave and all its strange things. The book chained to a stalagmite with a padlock twice the size of Aubrey’s hand. A small wooden statue of a woman carrying a basket over her arm, her eyes blazing with uncut sapphires. A rack of crystal bottles, stoppered with cork, in which varying levels and colors of liquid beckoned. A grandfather clock with no numbers or hands on the face. Objects Aubrey might have called death masks tied to sacks of flour, as if to give the viewer an idea of what they might look like with flesh underneath (or maybe it was his too-vivid imagination). And several bits and bobs of gold and silver and brass; medals and charms, cherry stones wrapped in cloth, even a fortune teller’s crystal ball on a beautiful bronze stand.

“I think it’s all being…well, covered, by one spell.” Ethaniel waved his hand out over the cave. “Like a blanket. Lift the blanket, see the magic.”

“Magical hide and seek,” Aubrey mused. “It would be entirely clever.”

“Very clever,” Convergence rasped. “That is precisely what’s happened.”

And there was only one person who could have done that. Aubrey saw recognition on Calix and Ethaniel’s faces, but Calix’s expression was chased with sadness. Another person who lied to him, used his trust, Aubrey thought. Sympathy rushed through him anew.

“How do we lift it?” Calix asked, blinking away the shine in his eyes.

“Should we?” Ethaniel gestured to the shelf before them. “We don’t know what any of these can do.”

Aubrey had to agree. “It would be more than ill-advised,” he said. “Ethaniel’s right. Any one of these things might have enough power to warp our minds, for example. Overpower us. Possess us, even.”

At that, Convergence hissed, the noise throaty, almost animalistic. “That was us,” it said, head swiveling about as if to look at them all. “The book was a trap. A snare for those who dared to use it. Be warned, Oracle. Be wary.”

Well, that was new information, Aubrey thought as he stared hard at the ghostly image. “Convenient to tell us that now,” he snapped. Calix looked even more horrified, while Ethaniel took a step back from the book.

Aubrey had always been able to make strange leaps in logic, to connect dots that seemed to be of different lines entirely. Calix might be an Oracle, but Aubrey had instincts honed on blades forged in centuries of experience. Cunning Folk weren’t called thus for a lark; cunning was an art and a science. And now all of that instinct told him to make the connections.

A magical trap.

Convergence in the lot of books he’d tried to win.

The book he’d sought had been that of a court mage of John Dee’s order.

“I’ll be damned,” he said softly as realization struck true. “I think this is the very book I’d been trying to procure that day at auction. I’ve no proof, of course…except…”

With Calix and Ethaniel watching on in stunned silence, Aubrey leaned forward, toward the book, despite everything in his being demanding he back away. “Do you remember your name?” he asked, everything in him deeply suspicious. If this was who he thought, that changed everything.

Convergence swirled, the mist at its edges darkening to the color of tar. Those blank eyes looked up at Aubrey, claws gripping the edge of the book, and when it spoke, Aubrey felt it vibrate through him.

“Yes,” it hissed. “Talbot.”

Let this be one mystery solved, though if my wild hunch is correct, it’s an entire Pandora’s Box, he thought before saying, “Edward Talbot? Sir Edward Talbot? Assistant to John Dee, Queen Elizabeth I’s court occultist?” The image’s mouth opened, and Aubrey felt a surge of victory. “It is you. My god.”

He straightened and backed away while Convergence sputtered and popped. The name seemed to have triggered something in its memory. The visage nodded and rasped, “That was my name. Yes. My name. I know it now.”

Aubrey backed up, returning to the others. “Talbot was John Dee’s primary assistant, and a competent scryer and alchemist. And a complete madman,” he explained in a soft voice. “I knew the diary I sought had come from that same time period, and I’d hoped it would have some direct connection to Dee, but this is…extraordinary. And it makes complete sense why the Golden Order would want the book. Talbot’s knowledge of magic was second only to Dee’s, and no one has ever been able to figure out what they were actually up to when squirreled away in Dee’s laboratory. And Dee’s Book of Angels has been long lost. I shudder to think that might be their end goal, but it’s all supposition at this point.”

Calix and Ethaniel both looked so exhausted, so Aubrey hustled along his explanation. “Talbot should be able to find the soul phylactery for us, even in all of this mess, and without lifting whatever dampening spell or the like sits over the objects. I should be able to poke a hole in the defenses, which will let Ethaniel pull out the phylactery.”

“Risky,” Ethaniel said. “You’re asking a lot.”

“I am,” Aubrey admitted. “But time is not on our side. We’ve no idea when, or if, the Golden Order strolls up to the front door and tries to—”

“Set us on fire again?” Calix said, all emotion gone from his voice. Aubrey could see the man shutting down, from the flat look in his brown eyes to the grim set of his mouth. This could be their only chance. “What should I do, then?”

“Go where Convergence — or Talbot, I suppose now — tells you to. I know none of us trust this thing, but we’re between a rock and a hard place. We find the phylactery, pull Talbot into it, and keep the rest of those voices in the book, then hand it over to the Golden Order.” Aubrey sighed and ran a hand over his short hair. “And after that…I don’t know.”

“Freedom,” Convergence hissed. “You promised.”

“And you’ll have it,” Calix said as he scooped up the book. “The phylactery will serve you fine.”

Oddly, Convergence was silent. Aubrey highly doubted the phylactery would satisfy Talbot forever, but they had no other options. The book couldn’t be destroyed, and it was clear Talbot had enough power to make them suffer if they didn’t uphold their end of the bargain.

They would do what they could for now. After that, the future was only a question mark. But Aubrey knew his bond with Ethaniel and Calix was more than a fleeting thing; he would take comfort in it, hold it close, and know it would carry them through whatever obstacle was flung in their path.

“We begin,” Convergence said as Calix held up the book.

Aubrey nodded to Ethaniel before pulling him close. He wanted them both near him, just in case. With everything that had gone wrong, he wasn’t willing to risk more chances at this point.

“Everyone ready?” Ethaniel asked as his eyes began to glow.

Aubrey put a hand on their backs and breathed in deeply. “Onward we must.”