served the Queen in many capacities: as an advisor and a translator, a
mathematician and an astronomer, and a personal astrologer. It had been left
to him to choose the date of her coronation, and he had picked noon on
January 15, 1559. He promised the young princess that hers would be a long
reign. It lasted for forty-five years.
Dr. John Dee was also the Queen s spy.
Dee spied for the English Queen across Europe and was her most influential
and powerful agent operating on the Continent. As a renowned scholar and
scientist, magician and alchemist, he was welcomed at the courts of kings and
the palaces of nobles. He professed to speak only English, Latin and
Greek though in actuality, he spoke a dozen languages well, and understood at
least a dozen more, even Arabic and a smattering of the language of Cathay.
He learned early on that people were often indiscreet when they didn't know
that he understood their every word, and he used that to his fullest
advantage. Dee signed his confidential and coded reports with the numbers
007. He thought it wonderfully ironic that hundreds of years later when Ian
Fleming created James Bond, he gave Bond the same code name.
John Dee was one of the most powerful magicians of his age. He had mastered
necromancy and sorcery, astrology and mathematics, divination and scrying.
His journeys across Europe brought him into contact with all the great
magicians and sorcerers of that time including the legendary Nicholas Flamel,
the man known as the Alchemyst.
Dee discovered the existence of Nicholas Flamel who had supposedly died in
1418 entirely by accident. That encounter was to shape the rest of his life
and, in so many ways, influence the history of the world.
Nicholas and Perenelle had returned to Paris in the first decade of the
sixteenth century, and were working as physicians, tending to the poor and
sick in the very hospitals the Flamels had founded more than a hundred years
earlier. They were living and working virtually in the shadow of the great
Cathedral of Notre Dame. Dee was in Paris on a secret mission for the Queen,
but the moment he saw the slender dark-haired man and his green-eyed wife
working together in the high-ceiling wards of the hospital, he knew who they
were. Dee was one of the few people in the world who had a copy of Flamel's
masterwork, The Summary of Philosophy, which included an engraving of the
famous Alchemyst opposite the title page. When Dee had introduced himself to
the doctor and his wife, calling them by their true names, neither had denied
it. Of course, they also knew of the famous Dr. John Dee by reputation.
Although Perenelle had had some reservations, Nicholas had been delighted
with the opportunity to take on the English magician as a new apprentice. Dee
had immediately left England and spent the next four years training with
Nicholas and Perenelle in Paris.
And it was in Paris, in the year 1575, that he had first learned of the
existence of the Elder Race.
He had been studying late at night in his tiny attic room in Flamel's house
when a creature out of a nightmare had slithered down the chimney, scattering
coal and wood as it crawled out onto the scorched mat. The creature was a
gargoyle, one of the ancient breed of ghouls that infested the sewers and
graveyards of most European cities. Similar to the crude shapes carved in
stone that decorated the cathedral almost directly opposite the house, this
was a living creature of veined, marble-like flesh and cinder black eyes.
Speaking in an archaic form of Greek, the gargoyle invited him to a meeting
on the roof of the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Recognizing that this invitation
was not one he could refuse, Dee followed the creature into the night. Loping
along, sometimes on two legs, often on four, the gargoyle led him through
increasingly narrow alleys, then down into the sewers, and eventually into a
secret passageway that took him deep within the great cathedral s walls. He
followed the gargoyle up the thousand and one steps carved into the interior
of the wall that finally led onto the roof of the Gothic cathedral.
Wait, it had commanded, and then said no more. Its mission accomplished,
the gargoyle ignored Dee and settled down on the parapet, hunched forward,
wings folded over its shoulders, tail curled tightly against its back, tiny
horns visible as they jutted from its forehead. It peered over the square far
below, tracking the movements of the late-night stragglers or those who had
no homes to go to, looking for a suitable meal. If anyone had chanced to
glance up, the gargoyle would have been indistinguishable from any of the
countless stone carvings on the building.
Dee had walked to the edge of the roof and looked across the city. All of
nighttime Paris was laid out below him, thousands of winking lights from
cooking fires, oil lamps and candles, the smoke rising straight up into the
still air, the countless dots of light split by the black curve of the Seine.
From this height, Dee could hear the buzz of the city a low drone, like a
beehive settling down for the night and smell the noxious stench that hung
over the streets a combination of sewers, rotting fruit and spoiled meat,
human and animal sweat and the stink of the river itself.
Perched over the cathedral s famous rose window, Dee waited. The study of
magic had taught him many things especially the value of patience. The
scholar in him enjoyed the experience of standing on the roof of the tallest
building in Paris, and he wished he d brought his sketch pad with him. He
contented himself with looking around, committing everything he saw to his
incredible memory. He recalled a recent visit to Florence. He had gone there
to examine the diaries of Leonardo da Vinci. They were written in a strange
cipher which no one had been able to break: it had taken him less than an
hour to crack the code no one had realized that Leonardo had written his
diaries not only in code, but in mirror image. The diaries were full of many
amazing drawings for proposed inventions: guns that fired many times, an
armored coach that moved without the need of horses, and a craft that could
sail beneath the sea. There was one, however, that particularly interested
Dee: a harness that da Vinci claimed would allow a man to take to the air and
fly like a bird. Dee had not been entirely convinced that the design would
work, though he wanted nothing more in the world than to fly. Looking out
over Paris now, he began to imagine what it would be like to strap da Vinci s
wings to his arms and sail out over the roofs.
His thoughts were interrupted as a flicker of movement caught his attention.
He turned to the north, where a shape was moving in the night sky, a black
shadow trailing scores of smaller dots. The smaller shapes looked as if they
could be birds except that he knew that birds rarely fly at night. Dee knew
immediately and without question that this was what he had been brought up
here to meet. He concentrated on the larger shape as it came closer, trying
to make sense of what he was seeing, but it was only when the figure dropped
onto the roof that he realized he was looking at an ashen-faced woman dressed
entirely in black, wearing a long cloak of crow s wings.
That night, Dr. John Dee first met the Morrigan. That night, he learned of
the Elder Race and how they had been forced from the world of men by the
magic in the Book of Abraham the Mage, a book that was currently in the
possession of Nicholas Flamel. That night, Dee learned that there were those
among the Elders who wanted to return to their rightful place as the rulers
of mankind. And that night, the Crow Goddess promised Dee that he would one
day control the entire world, he would be master of an empire that stretched
from pole to pole, from sunrise to sunset. All he had to do was to steal the
Book from Flamel and hand it over.
That night, Dr. John Dee became the champion of the Dark Elders.
It was a mission that had taken him across the world, and into the many
Shadowrealms that bordered it. He had fought ghosts and ghouls, creatures
that had no right to exist outside of nightmares, others that were left over
from a time predating the arrival of the humani. He had gone to battle at the
head of an army of monsters and had spent at least a decade wandering lost in
an icy Otherworld. Many times, he had been concerned for his safety, but he
had never been truly frightened until this moment, sitting before the
entrance to a Bel Air estate in twenty-first-century Los Angeles. In those
early days he had not been fully aware of the powers of the creatures he
served, but nearly four and a half centuries in their service had taught him
many things including the fact that death was probably the least of all the
punishments they could inflict on him.
The armed security guard stepped back and the high metal gates clicked open,
allowing Dee s car to sweep in on the long white stone driveway toward the
sprawling marble mansion that was just visible through the trees. Although
night had fallen, no lights were showing in the house, and for a moment Dee
imagined that no one was at home. Then he remembered that the person the
creature he had come to meet preferred the hours of darkness and had no need
of lights.
The car turned into the circular drive in front of the main entrance, where
the headlights picked up a trio of people standing on the bottom step. When
the car finally crunched to a halt on the white gravel, a figure stepped up
to the door and pulled it open. It was impossible to make out any details in
the gloom, but the voice that came out of the darkness was male, and spoke to
him in heavily accented English. Dr. Dee, I presume. I am Senuhet. Please,
come in. we've been expecting you. Then the figure turned away and strode up
the steps.
Dee climbed out of the car, brushed off his expensive suit and, conscious
that his heart was fluttering, followed Senuhet into the mansion. The other
two figures fell into step on either side of him. Although no one said
anything, Dee knew they were guards. And he wasn't entirely sure they were
human.
The magician recognized the heavy, cloying scent as soon as he stepped into
the house: it was frankincense, the rare and incredibly expensive aromatic
gum from the Middle East, used in ancient times in Egypt and Greece and as
far to the east as China. Dee felt his eyes water and his nose twitch. Those
of the Elder Race were particularly fond of frankincense, but it gave him a
headache.
As the three shadowy figures led Dee into the great hallway, he caught a
glimpse of Senuhet: a small, slender man, bald and olive skinned. He looked
as if he was of Middle Eastern origin, from Egypt or Yemen. Senuhet pushed
closed the heavy front door, spoke two words Stay here and then disappeared
into the darkness, leaving Dee in the company of the two silent guards.
Dee looked around. Even in the shadowy half-light, he could see that the
hallway was bare. There was no furniture on the tiled floor, there were no
pictures or mirrors on the walls, no curtains on the windows. He knew that
there were houses like this scattered across the world, homes to those few
Dark Elders who liked to walk in the world of men, usually creating mischief.
Though they were extraordinarily skilled and dangerous, their powers were
extremely limited because of the proliferation of iron in the modern world,
which served to dull their magical energies. In the way that lead was
poisonous to humans, iron, the metal of mankind, was deadly to the Elder
Race. Dee knew, even without looking, that there would not be a scrap of that
particular metal in this house. Everything would be made of gold or silver,
even down to the door handles and the taps in the bathrooms.
The Dark Elders valued their privacy; their preference was for quiet,
out-of-the-way places small islands, patches of desert, countries like
Switzerland, portions of the former Soviet Union, the arctic reaches of
Canada, Himalayan temples and the Brazilian jungle. When they chose to live
in cities like this one, their houses were secured behind walls and wire, the
grounds patrolled by armed guards and dogs. And if anyone was lucky or
foolish enough to actually reach the house, they would encounter older,
darker and more lethal guards.
This way.
Dee was pleased that he d managed to control his fright at the sound of
Senuhet s voice; he hadn't heard the man return. Would they go up or down? he
wondered. In his experience those of the Elder Race fell into two neat
categories: those who preferred to sleep on roofs and those who preferred
basements. The Morrigan was a creature of attics and roofs.
Senuhet stepped into a puddle of light and Dee noted now that his eyes were
painted with black kohl, the top lid completely blackened, two horizontal
lines running from the corners of his eyes to his ears. Three vertical white
lines were painted on his chin, beneath his lips. He led Dee to a concealed
door directly under the broad staircase and opened it with a password in the
language that the boy king Tutankhamen would have spoken. Dee followed the
figure into a pitch-black corridor and stopped when the door clicked shut
behind them. He heard the man moving ahead of him, then his footsteps
clicking on stairs.
Down. Dee should have guessed that the Dark Elder the Morrigan had sent him
to see would be a creature of basements and tunnels. I'll need light, he
said aloud. I don't want to fall down the stairs in the dark and break my
neck. His voiced echoed slightly in the confined space.
There is no electricity in this house, Dr. John Dee. But we have heard that
you are a magician of note. If you wish to create light, then you are
permitted to do so.
Without a word, Dee stretched out his hand. A blue spark snapped to life in
his palm. It buzzed and hissed, spinning about, then it started to grow, from
the size of a pea to that of a grape. It gave off a cold blue-white light.
Holding his hand out in front of him, Dee started down the stairs.
He began to count the steps as he descended, but quickly gave up, distracted
by the decorations on the walls, the ceil
ing and even the floor. It was like
stepping into an Egyptian tomb, but, unlike any of the countless tombs he had
seen, where the artwork was faded, chipped and broken and everything was
coated in a fine layer of gritty sand, here the decorations were pristine,
brilliant and complete. The colors, slightly distorted by the blue light he
was carrying, looked as if they had just been laid down, the pictographs and
hieroglyphs were vivid and crisp, the names of gods picked out in thick gold
leaf.
A sudden updraft caused the blue-white ball of light to flicker and dance in
his hand, sending the shadows leaping and darting. Dee s nostrils flared: the
wind carried the stench of something old old and long dead.
The stairs ended in a wide, vaulted cellar. Dee felt something crunch and
snap beneath his feet with his first step. He lowered his hand and the
blue-white light shone across the floor which was covered with countless tiny
white bones, blanketing the ground in an ivory carpet. It took Dee a long
moment before he recognized the bones as those of rats and mice. Some of them
were so old that they crumbled into white powder when he disturbed them, but
others were much newer. Unwilling to ask a question to which he really did
not want an answer, Dee followed his silent guide, bones crunching and
crackling with every step. He lifted his hand high, shedding light across the
chamber. Unlike the stairwell, however, this room was unadorned, the walls
streaked black with moisture, green mold gathering close to the floor,
sprouting fungi dappling the ceiling.
Looks like you have a problem with damp, Dee said unnecessarily, simply to
break the growing silence.
It is of no matter, Senuhet said quietly.
Have you been here long? Dee wondered, glancing around.
In this place? The other man paused, considering. Less than a hundred
years. No time at all, really.
A shape moved in the shadows. And we will not be here much longer. That is
why you are here, isn t it, Dr. Dee? The voice was a cross between a sultry
growl and a purr, shaping the English words with difficulty. Almost against
his will, Dee raised his hand, allowing the light in his palm to illuminate
the tall, slender figure that moved in the gloom. The light moved over bare
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