by Morgan Rice
“Is he all right?” Esther said under her breath.
Oliver couldn’t blame her. Newton did seem a bit odd. But considering the things he’d discovered, he could be forgiven. It had to take a very unique mind to work out the things he had.
“Are you staying long?” Newton asked. “There’s a cockfight on tonight. We could go and watch it in the town square.”
“And bear-baiting!” Locke called out.
Oliver shook his head. “No. Um. I don’t think we have time for… sports.”
Fatio de Duillier spoke next, in a strong European accent. “A youth of finer tastes, perhaps. Maybe we should frequent the theatre tonight? There is a play on I’ve heard rumored is starring a female actor. Or should I say actor-ress? Either way, it is quite groundbreaking. I for one would like to see how the little darling gets along.”
Esther pulled a face. Oliver flashed her an apologetic look.
Ralph sniffed. “What is that smell?” he said under his breath.
“Deodorant doesn’t exist in the 1600s,” Oliver explained quietly.
Esther grimaced. “You mean to say they’ve invented a telescope that can see the stars but they haven’t realized the benefits of bathing?” she whispered.
Oliver shrugged.
“So Professor Amethyst sent you,” Newton said then. “I suppose it’s for some invention or other? He’s always sending students back in time to see me during times of mild peril.”
He chuckled.
“It’s more than mild peril,” Oliver tried to say, but Newton was already leaving the parlor, his back to Oliver. Oliver hop skipped to catch up with him. The others followed.
“Excuse me,” Oliver said. “Master Newton.”
But the inventor was striding through the corridor rather quickly, paying him no attention. The three exchanged a look and increased their pace to catch up to him.
He disappeared through a door. When they entered after him, Oliver gasped with surprise.
They’d entered a laboratory. On the shelves were several freshly printed copies of Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica, Newton’s infamous text that would go on to become the defining text on physics for centuries to come. There were also several blackboards at one end of the wall, covered in formulas, one of which, Oliver recognized, was Newton’s formula of gravitation.
But those were not the things that surprised Oliver. What surprised Oliver were the clearly magical elements of Newton’s laboratory.
On the large table in the middle was a series of beakers and tubes, with small flames beneath them. The machine chugged and whirred. Newton appeared to have set up some kind of experiment working with different metal alloys, heating them and cooling them. He’d never read anything about Newton working with metals.
“What is that for?” Oliver asked, shocked.
“Ah yes,” Newton said. “This is my newest pursuit. Alchemy.”
Oliver gasped. He knew that alchemy was akin to magic. Those who studied it were usually trying to change one metal into another—iron to gold, for example. He’d had no idea Newton was interested in it.
“I’m attempting to discover the elixir of life,” Newton said. “Of immortality. Most of the men here tonight are part of my Alchemists Guild. Say… you’ll know. Do I succeed or not?”
Oliver shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest. If you do succeed, it’s not something that’s ever talked about.”
Newton tapped him chin. “Interesting. Perhaps I keep my findings to myself. Or perhaps my theory of gravity is considered more important.”
He hurried onward, spinning globes that hung from the ceiling as he passed.
“I’ve recently concluded that the earth is an oblate spheroid,” he announced.
Esther raised her eyebrows. “You mean that the world is round?”
Newton’s eyes sparked. “Why yes! She’s rather clever for a pretty thing.”
Esther pulled her unimpressed expression again. She folded her arms. “I heard the church isn’t very happy with you.”
Newton seemed to deflate then. “My theories aren’t accepted by everyone. But all I am doing with my work is attempting to understand God’s creation. For now, I’m making some great headway with my alchemy. Here, this is the recipe for sophick mercury.”
Oliver looked over his shoulder at the stack of papers Newton was showing him. He was stunned. There must have been more than a million words there—words Oliver knew would never be published. He wondered why Newton’s extensive work on alchemy never saw the light of day. Because of what he’d discovered? Or because he’d discovered nothing?
“See, I’m studying these ancient texts,” Newton said, “in relation to exploring the nature of matter.” He indicated the experiment set up on the table. “By repeatedly distilling mercury and heating it with gold, I’ve created this alloy. Look at its delicate branches. Just like a tree. The metal comes alive.”
Oliver found this all very fascinating. Perhaps there was something here in this laboratory that Newton was studying that would help them in their search for the Orb? Something that bordered the realms of science and magic? There had to have been a specific reason why Professor Amethyst wanted them to find Newton in the first place. In fact, Ralph had paraphrased his words as, “There’s only one person in the universe who can help.”
“Sir, Professor Amethyst sent us here for your help,” Oliver explained. “The power source for our school has been stolen. If it’s not returned within twenty-four hours the school will collapse.”
Newton gasped. “And Professor Amethyst thought I could help?”
He looked troubled and paced over to the window, where strong shards of light came through. In front of it was a strange object; a long brass pole with piece of oddly shaped glass affixed to it. Absentmindedly, he spun the glass. Suddenly, the colors of the rainbow sprayed out in different directions across the room. It was beautiful. Everyone gasped.
“What’s that?” Ralph asked.
“My newest invention,” Newton explained. “I refer to it as optics. By using the concept of alchemy, of breaking down a material into its component parts, I’ve discovered that color is actually a property of light. I’ve made many of these things”—he pointed at the glass—“in different shapes and sizes to see whether there are differing properties depending on which. There, that prism on the table is one.”
Oliver went over and angled the glass prism so it picked up the light. At once more rainbow colors came from it, spraying across the table.
“Is this one too?” Esther asked.
She was holding up a spyglass.
“Yes.” Newton shook his head. “But that one never worked.”
Esther held it up to her eye. “It works for me.”
Newton’s eyes boggled. “What do you mean? What can you see?”
He was suddenly very animated and hurried toward her.
“Rainbows,” Esther said. “All over the place.”
She handed it to Newton. He looked through the glass. But his shoulders slumped with disappointment. “You’re mistaken. It still does not work. This one is a failure.”
“I’m not mistaken,” Esther contested. “I know what I saw. Here, give it to me.”
Newton passed it to her and she looked through again. “Yes. There are definitely rainbows.”
“Let me have a go,” Oliver said.
She handed it to him. He looked through. Sure enough, Newton’s laboratory was suddenly covered in rainbow lights.
“She’s right,” he said. “It works. For us, anyway.”
Ralph came over and looked through the spyglass. He nodded in confirmation. All three seers could see through the glass.
“I think you’ve invented a piece of seer technology, Master Newton,” Oliver said, grinning.
“Perhaps this was what Professor Amethyst sent us for?” Esther suggested. “Something through which only seers can see?”
Newton clicked his fingers suddenly, as if a moment
of inspiration had come to him. “The shrouded school.”
Oliver frowned and exchanged a look with his friends. “The what?”
“The shrouded school!” Newton repeated. “A rumored place of magic, right here in London. I and the rest of the alchemy society have been trying to follow leads to find it, with no such luck. It is said to be hidden just out of sight of the human eye.”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “Do you think this might lead us to it? Perhaps we can see the school through it?”
Oliver ran to the window, suddenly excited. This could be it!
He held the glass up to the window and peered through. All manner of colors now bathed the streets. It was an amazing sight.
“There!” Oliver cried. “On the horizon! I see something shimmering.”
The others ran over. They each took it in turns to look through the glass, inspecting the strange glow in the distance.
“Whatever that is,” Ralph said, “it’s definitely magical.”
Hope blossomed in Oliver’s chest. “Do you think it might help us locate the Orb of Kandra?”
“Yes, perhaps,” Ralph agreed. “Or perhaps if we find the shrouded school there’ll be people there who can help.”
“We should investigate,” Esther suggested. “It’s our best lead so far.”
Oliver nodded his agreement.
“Take me with you,” Newton said. “If it is the shrouded school, I want to see it.”
Oliver chewed his lip, suddenly worried. If the school was shrouded from human eyes, then it must be for a good reason. And if Newton couldn’t even use the spyglass he’d invented, there had to be an even better reason!
“Let’s go first, just the three of us,” Oliver explained. “Then we can come back and tell you if we found the school or not. Besides, you’re busy entertaining, aren’t you?”
Newton pouted a little. “You’re right. But you will come back, won’t you? And tell me what you found?”
“Of course,” Oliver exclaimed. He held up the spyglass. “We have to anyway, to return this.”
Newton nodded, though he seemed disappointed he was not able to join them in locating the school. He led them out into the corridor, passing them to the care of his butler.
“It was wonderful to meet you all,” Newton said. “Do come back some time when you’re not on a perilous quest. You never got to try the banana.”
The group walked to the door.
“We will,” Oliver promised Newton. “You have my word. Just as soon as we’ve saved the school.”
“Good luck!” Newton said.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Chris was lying on his back. He touched his torso, his legs, his head. He was in one piece.
He recalled the terrifying plunge from the rooftop and sat up, blinking with surprise. Was he dead? Was this hell? He appeared to be in a very dark room.
“You’re awake,” came the voice of Malcolm. It seemed to be all around him, coming from all directions.
Chris glanced about in the darkness. “Where are you?”
“You won’t be able to see me,” Malcolm replied. “You’re human. There’s a veil over your eyes.”
“Well, take it off,” Chris stammered. “This is freaking me out.”
He could hear the click-click-click of Malcolm’s footsteps on what sounded like a marble floor. But Chris could see nothing.
“There’s only one way to remove the veil,” Malcolm said. “And that’s for you to join us.”
“Join who?”
“Us. Here. At Obsidian School.”
Chris’s mind reeled. He had no idea what Malcolm was talking about.
“Fine. Whatever. Just let me see.”
Suddenly, Malcolm’s face appeared before him, just an inch away. It looked like candlelight was glowing on it, though Chris could see no candles.
“You’ll have to sign this contract first,” Malcolm said.
Chris noticed a piece of parchment in his hands and a golden quill. Chris realized then that the light was coming from the quill.
Without even reading what he was signing, he grabbed the quill in his fist and quickly scribbled his name onto the parchment.
All at once, the room blazed with light, so bright Chris had to shield his eyes. When he finally opened his eyes again, he got his first glance at where he was.
It looked like a ballroom, with shiny black marble floors and dark wood-paneled walls. The ceiling was very high and there were several sweeping staircases leading upward to doors and walkways. Right at the top of the ceiling, directly in the center, Chris could see a small opening. The moon shone through it.
“Did we come through there?” Chris stammered.
“Yes,” Malcolm said, smiling.
“But how?” Chris still didn’t understand. How had he fallen so far and yet was still in one piece? And where was this strange place? Hidden beneath the streets of New Jersey?
Before Chris had the chance to ask any of his questions, he felt his stomach heave. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Malcolm crouched down. “Just travel sickness. It will pass.”
“Travel sickness?” Chris asked, confused. “Where have I traveled to?”
“You’re at Obsidian School,” Malcolm explained. “We exist within dimensions.”
“Within…” Chris began to repeat. Then he threw up his breakfast.
Malcolm looked disgusted. “Come on. Get up. Let’s get you cleaned up for your initiation ceremony.”
He grabbed Chris’s hand and heaved his bulky weight up to standing.
“My what?” Chris asked, wiping drool from his lips with the back of his hand.
“Initiation,” Malcolm repeated. He waved the parchment. “You’ve enrolled at the school now.”
Chris wasn’t particularly pleased to hear he’d just signed himself up to joining a new school, especially this one which looked as fancy as the Catholic school near Campbell Junior High.
“Are there fees?” he asked. “’Cause my parents are dirt poor. And what are the lessons like? I hate learning stuff. There better not be any history classes.” Then he shuddered. “Or French. No way am I sitting through all that oui madame stuff. I thought this was all about pummeling Oliver!”
Malcolm frowned at Chris, clearly annoyed at the barrage of questions he was firing at him. He shook his head. “No fees. No lessons. This isn’t a normal school, Chris. It’s a seer school. And once we initiate you, you’ll get your powers.”
Chris stared at Malcolm in disbelief. “Powers? You mean like the ones Oliver has?”
The thought of becoming a freak like his brother disturbed him. But then he recalled all the things Oliver had done to him. If he had powers himself he could do that stuff back tenfold! He could send Oliver sliding on his butt through the streets of New Jersey!
He followed Malcolm to the staircase, suddenly excited. “You’re making me a seer?”
“Not just any seer,” Malcolm said. “The best kind of seer. An evil seer.”
“Evil?” Chris grinned. “I like the sound of that!”
He followed Malcolm up the tall staircase. It made his thighs ache to get all the way to the top. Hopefully when he had powers he’d be able to fly or float or something. Stairs were annoying.
They walked across a dark corridor lit by flaming torches. The Obsidian School was very cold, Chris noticed.
“Hey, am I supposed to dorm here or something?” he asked, hurrying to keep up with Malcolm. “Because it’s way too cold. There’d better be blankets. And I’m not sharing a room. Not with anyone.”
Malcolm halted suddenly and turned on his heel. Chris had clearly infuriated him and he’d reached the end of his tether. He stared at Chris with dark, menacing eyes. The veins in his neck popped.
He raised his hand up. Then suddenly Chris flew back against the wall. Though Malcolm was not touching him, it felt to Chris like his hands were wrapped around his throat. He struggled for breath, kicking out against the wall
as he thrashed about in terror.
“No,” Malcolm said coldly. “You won’t be dorming here. You have a mission. One you’ll be undertaking once you’ve been initiated. So shut your mouth and listen.”
Chris could feel the pressure in his face as his oxygen reserves ran out. He nodded, desperate to be released.
Finally, the grip of Malcolm’s fingers released from his throat. Chris fell to the floor, gasping for breath. His vision was blurry, but he could make out Malcolm’s feet as he marched away.
“Come on!” Malcolm’s voice boomed.
And suddenly, Chris was sliding on his hands and knees. He looked up and saw that Malcolm was doing it, dragging him all the way across the polished floorboards with just the power of his mind. He slid right up to Malcolm’s feet and peered up at the menacing boy.
Malcolm sneered. “Come on now. No need to grovel. Pick yourself up. Dust yourself off. There’ll be far worse than that awaiting you.”
Chris immediately leapt up. The smirk had been wiped clean from his face. Usually, he loved irritating people. But not Malcolm. The strange boy terrified him.
Chris looked over at the door Malcolm had stopped outside of. The sign on it read Mistress Obsidian.
Malcolm rapped his knuckles sharply against it. The door creaked open and in he went. Trembling from the terrifying encounter, Chris took a tentative step inside.
There was a large round table in the middle of the room and candelabras dotted around the place. The walls were black. It reminded Chris of a vampire’s lair. At the head of the table was a large throne, and a terrifying looking woman sat on it.
“Christopher Blue,” she said, smiling disconcertingly. “I’m so pleased you decided to join us here at Obsidian’s. I’m Mistress Obsidian, the head teacher here.”
She held out a hand for Chris to shake. Her fingers were long and pale and bony. Her nails were like shiny black talons.
He shook her hand. The skin was as cold as ice.
“Please, take a seat,” she said.
Chris and Malcolm sat at the table. Mistress Obsidian turned to Malcolm. He handed her the parchment that Chris had signed.