A Web of Crimson

by Alexander G R Gideon

  “I have endured more than you will ever know, and I have suffered your arrogance long enough. You will not speak to me that way. I am one of the only allies you have left in London. You would do well to remember that.” Power of an ancient kind filled his words, and I felt as if I stood before one of the old gods. Silence fell, delicate as glass, and I feared if I spoke, or even moved, the world itself might shatter. I never imagined the foppish Julian Baker could frighten me. Finally, he sighed, and the terrible power in him dissipated. He collapsed back into his chair, looking absolutely exhausted.

  “I want to help you, Aleister. But Henrick is the only Agent in London other than the two of us.” He rubbed his eyes; his voice weak.

  I blinked. We always kept agents available. “Where did the Synod send everyone?”

  “Not the Synod.” He lowered his hands and gave me a meaningful look. “The Archmage. He’s emptied the city in the last week, sending them all over the world. Henrick is to leave for Egypt in the morning. Did you bring these drawings with you?”

  I shook my head. “I gave them to an associate to look into.”

  “How long ago did you leave his house?”

  “An hour, perhaps.” I took a deep breath and swallowed hard, my composure returning. “You think this about the Book?”

  “I think it very likely.”

  “Do you think the Book compromised already?” Panic crawled up the back of my throat.

  “No,” he said, and the knot of anxiety in my gut loosened a bit. “But the Archmage is up to something.”

  “This doesn’t make sense.” I stroked the stubble on my cheeks. “Why has the Synod allowed Wells to send agents away like this? And why was I called back to the city?”

  “I called you back to the city. Not Wells or the Synod,” Julian said, catching me by surprise. “Things haven’t been quite right for some time now. I wanted you here as I investigated so that I had someone close at hand I knew I could trust.”

  “You trust me?” I asked, confused, and a bit touched.

  “Of course I do. I still remember Winterbourne Academy. When we were friends.”

  I smiled despite myself. “Before you became the golden child, and I the wickedest man in England.”

  “How things change,” he whispered sadly. “What are we going to do?”

  I turned, running a hand through my hair as I thought. Our Archmage had sent the majority of the Knight Mages away not just from London, but from England itself. And a possibly mystical organization possessed details on the location of the most powerful book of magic in the world and boasted a sizable portion of Parliament among its members. But were they connected? Julian said that he brought me back to London, but that raised another question.

  “Julian,” I said, turning. He sat with his fingers steepled, watching me. “How did you find out about the Golden Dawn?”

  He remained quiet for a moment, a thoughtful look in his eye. At last, he said, “The Archmage originally asked me to take the case. I gave it to you instead.”

  “Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?” I said, dropping into a chair off to the side of the office. “If Mathers is trying to bring the Book of Thoth here, and Wells is involved, why would he ask you to investigate?”

  “He wouldn’t,” Julian said, his brow furrowed. “Which means—”

  “We don’t have a damn clue what is really going on,” I finished for him, leaning my head against the wall, and closing my eyes. God, I was tired.

  “Then we find out,” Julian said. I liked the resolve in his voice. “The Archmage hates your guts, so I think it best if I focus on that line of investigation. Continue your inquiries into the Golden Dawn and those drawings you found.”

  He stood, and I did the same. He came around the desk to stand before me, extended his hand, and I took it. We grinned at each other, and the knot of anxiety in my stomach unwound completely. We had a direction. We could do this.

  “We’ll meet again soon. For now, you need to leave. No one other than Henrick knows of your presence here and the less time we spend together, the better.” He gestured toward the door. “The initiation rite for the Golden Dawn happens tonight. I imagine you need to prepare.”

  I’d completely forgotten about the rite. I had no notion of Mathers’s plans, and little more than a day remained to prepare. I needed to be ready for anything. We made our way back to the front door, and Julian froze when he saw Henrick.

  “Did you have to go so far?” he asked with a weary sigh.

  “I thought matters too serious to let him stop me at the front door,” I said. Julian knew it for an excuse as well as I.

  “Of course he tried to stop you when you stormed in.” He jammed a finger into my chest. “Fix this.”

  I grimaced and knelt next to Henrick and probed him with my will. I found a few bruises from his fall, but no serious injuries. Kindling my will, I gave him a quick healing before undoing the sleeping spell.

  Henrick’s eyes cracked open and he groaned. “Wha’ ‘appened?” he slurred, trying to roll over and get to his feet.

  I put an arm around him and helped him up.

  “Sorry about all this, Henrick,” Julian said, his tone jovial. “Just a misunderstanding on Mr. Crowley’s part. His business couldn’t wait, and you know how overzealous he gets. No hard feelings, I hope?”

  Henrick glanced between Julian and me, both of us displaying the biggest smiles we could manage. He shrugged. “Guess not.”

  “Glad to hear it. I didn’t mean to put you down so hard, lad.” I gave the man a pat on the back.

  He shook his head. “I face worse in the field. Lucky you caught me by surprise.” He stepped away from me, rubbing his head.

  “Of course.” I said, fighting hard to keep the sarcasm from my voice.

  “Why don’t you go lie down for a bit while the spell wears off.” Julian gestured toward one of the bedrooms reserved for active duty Knights.

  “Aye, I think I will. Thank you, sir,” Henrick said as he headed for it.

  Once Henrick disappeared inside, Julian opened the front door and I stepped out into the morning.

  “I’ll do my job,” Julian said, his tone suddenly low and serious. “Now, go do yours.”

  With that he closed the door.

  I turned and looked up at the sky, violet with the rising sun. I started toward home, feeling as if the doom of the world followed just behind me.

  9

  Mark Mason’s Hall

  Memory haunted the few fitful hours I slept. I stalked the halls of the Nameless City repeatedly, each corridor blending into the next until I found myself hopelessly lost. But no matter which way I turned, I ended up in the same place every time, standing before the sarcophagus as my father opened it. Words refused to pass my lips as he leaned into the tomb, and when he straightened, he held an enormous book, its solid gold cover embossed with an image of Thoth like the sarcophagus.

  He turned to me and grinned. “We did it, Aleister! We found it.” He placed the Book on the lid of the tomb and waved me over to join him. “You deserve to see this.”

  When he opened it, something happened.

  Every torch in the room died. Darkness blacker than the devil’s heart took hold of us. Fear gripped me, and I called out for my father, trying to grope my way forward. I received no answer. But I heard another voice, one I didn’t recognize. It told me to make a soul flame.

  I did.

  In time to see my father wrap his hands around my throat.

  I tried to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t breathe. I clawed at his hands, but his fingers refused to budge. He brought his face close to mine, and I didn’t recognize the person in his eyes. In my ear, he snarled, “You won’t take it away from me.”

  My vision dimmed, and the unfamiliar voice in my head shrieked at me to use my magic. So I kindled will, blasted my father off of me, and gasped a breath of precious air. But a moment later, my father’s fingers wrapped around my throat once more.
/>   You cannot stop him, Aleister.

  He’s my father.

  Your father lost himself the moment he touched the Book. He means to kill you. You know what you must do.

  My soul flame guttered. I can’t.

  Yes, you can. You cannot die here. Kill him.

  No.

  Do it now!

  Before the world faded away entirely, I did as the voice demanded.

  The echo of my scream still reverberated through the room when I awoke, dripping with cold sweat. I threw back the blankets, stumbled out of bed, and made my way to the water closet. It felt like God himself slapped me when the icy water hit my face. The shock left me sputtering and cursing, but very much awake.

  That seemed like an intense nightmare, Vex said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

  Shouldn’t you know? You live in my head, after all.

  Not when you sleep.

  Good to know.

  What did you dream about that left you in such a state?

  A memory.

  Of?

  Why I hate you.

  Vex didn’t respond, but I felt him heavy in my mind, waiting.

  I shook my head and dried my face. With the initiation ritual for the Golden Dawn hours away, I could spare no time for such frivolity.

  I need your eyes on my back tonight, so stay sharp.

  Always.

  I knew it counterintuitive to ask Vex to assist me after telling him how much I hate him, but no other choice remained. I didn’t know what, if anything, might happen at the ritual. But the drawings in Mathers’s possession put me on edge. Someone sought to bring the Book of Thoth to London, and no matter their reason, I couldn’t allow it to happen. So I made tea and set about readying myself for the night. I perused my books and checked my potions, but in the end, there was little I could do.

  As the sky darkened, I made ready to leave. A few flurries of snow fell about me, and I wrapped myself in my great coat. In the process of extinguishing the lights, someone knocked on the door. I gathered will as I went to the door. I opened it, prepared to cast in a moment’s notice, and found Elaine standing on my doorstep. She wore a dress similar to the one she’d worn when I’d first met her. This one also seemed ill-fitted, though she hid it well under her coat, shawl, and heavy scarf.

  “Good, you’re here. I worried you might have already left,” she said, descending the stair to the street. “Are you coming?”

  “Good evening to you as well,” I said, stepping out into the cold and locking the door behind me. “I didn’t expect to see you before the ritual.”

  “You wanted me to come here with any information I gathered,” she said. That certainly caught my attention. “We’ll talk about it on the way. You know where we’re going, I take it?”

  “Of course.” From a pocket I produced the hair I took from George Cecil Jones the night before. I gathered will, and with a few words, kindled the finding spell. The hair disappeared in a flash of blue flame, and I felt a pull toward the west. I started down the street and she fell into step beside me.

  “Others in the city received copies of those drawings,” she said as we turned onto Strand.

  I halted in my tracks, and she stumbled a bit as she did the same. “Who else?”

  “Maybe a dozen others, all members of Parliament as well as the Golden Dawn.” She narrowed her eyes. “The person who gave them out asked the recipients to support a joint effort with the Egyptians to search the ruins and bring any findings back to London.”

  My mind raced through the implications. The Knight Mages guarded the Nameless City, but if Parliament and the Egyptians came to an agreement, that would end and leave the Book of Thoth unguarded.

  “Who made the request?”

  Elaine shook her head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t get my hands on any of the letters. But Mathers received his like all the rest.”

  “Damn it all to bloody hell,” I said as we started down Strand again. “If we don’t stop him, they’re not only going to bring it here, but it’ll be legal.”

  “Bring what here?” Elaine asked. “And don’t tell me you can’t say. Those drawings scare you out of your mind. I want to help you stop this, but you need to tell me what we’re stopping.”

  Tell her, Aleister. Vex said before I could respond. You cannot handle this alone, and she has proven herself resourceful already. You need her aid.

  “Fine, fine,” I said to both of them. “The ruins in those drawings are in a forgotten part of Egypt. Precious few writings exist about it, yet all refer to it as the Nameless City. No one knows who built it, or why. Those same writings claim the city lies underground, and runs so deep, you’ll reach Hell before the bottom. In its darkest depths lies a sarcophagus, its lid carved in the shape of a man with the head of an Ibis. Egyptians know him as Thoth, the god of wisdom, writing, and most importantly, magic. Inside, you’ll find no body. Only a book.”

  “A book?” she scoffed. “All of this over a book?”

  “The Book of Thoth is a grimoire. A book of magic,” I said. “Common enough among those with real power, though legend claims The Book of Thoth is the most powerful grimoire ever written.”

  “Legend?” She leaned closer, her rapt attention on me.

  “Not all believe the Book exists.” I said as we passed the Somerset House. “Many say the legend makes us strive for greater heights.”

  “But you believe?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “That is a story for another time.”

  For a moment, I thought Elaine would argue, but she shrugged and said, “So, someone wants to get their hands on this book, and you think they’re using the Golden Dawn to do it.”

  “In essence, yes.”

  “Do you think Mathers is behind this?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “I suspected him, but we found those sketches and letter in an office I wager he never expected anyone to find. No, I believe the one we’re looking for simply wishes to use his influence.”

  “Then our mystery man or woman remains as such. But we have an advantage.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “And what’s that?”

  “They don’t know we’re on their trail, but we know they’ll be present at the ritual tonight.” She grinned at me. “We just have to keep our eyes open.”

  “Aye,” I said with a smirk. “That we do.”

  We fell into a comfortable silence after that. My spell pulled westward, and after nearly an hour, I finally caught sight of our target. George Cecil Jones stood upon the front steps of the beautifully crafted Mark Mason’s Hall. It seemed to loom over us as we approached, and I frowned. I’d not thought the Golden Dawn related to the Freemasons.

  “Good evening, Mr. Jones,” I said as I neared.

  His eyes snapped up, and his face split into a handsome grin. He placed his watch in his waistcoat pocket and descended the steps to meet us, his hand outstretched. I took it, and we shook. “Good evening to you as well, sir. I didn’t expect you for some time.” He noticed Elaine next to me and blinked in surprise. “And Miss Simpson as well. I take it the two of you are on better terms now?”

  “We found common ground,” Elaine said, holding out her hand.

  He took it and kissed the back. “Splendid. Well, no sense in staying out here in the cold. Follow me.” Jones turned, and Elaine and I fell into step behind him.

  “I thought the Golden Dawn its own entity, not under the thumb of the Masons,” Elaine said as we made our way along St. James Street. She’d noticed as well. My respect for her grew by the minute.

  “We aren’t, though Lord Mathers did seek for those of like mind and skill among their ranks at first. When he found no such men, he created an Order of his own. He intended for both men and women of superior skills and demeanor to gather, practice their craft, and further their ambitions. So started the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn.”

  “Then why did we meet at the Masons’ Hall?” Elaine asked.


  “Because Lord Mathers built our temple under their very noses,” he said, voice full of disconcerting adoration as we made our way around the Hall to the unoccupied private carriage courtyard in the rear. “The Masons maintain a notorious secrecy and much of London already avoids this hall. What better place to build our temple?”

  What better place indeed? Camouflage one secret society within another. Even if the citizens of London took notice of the Order’s coming and going, they would simply attribute it to the eccentricities of the Masons. Brilliant. We hugged the edge of the courtyard, staying close to the Hall until we came to a stair leading up to the back entrance.

  “Let me show you a bit of Lord Mathers’s genius.” Jones knelt at the foot of the stair and ran his hand across the bottom step. He pushed on a particular brick which sank at his touch. A section of the stairs collapsed with the rasp of shifting stone, sliding down to make another staircase leading under the hall. I schooled my face to hide my shock and opened my Sight for a moment. No magic.

  Curious.

  Jones stood with a satisfied flourish. “After you, my dears,” he said, stepping aside so we could pass.

  “Quite remarkable,” I said as Elaine and I stepped into the gaping maw of the corridor beyond.

  “Lord Mathers never fails to impress,” Jones said, following on my heels.

  The light from outside diminished as we descended. A few feet inside, we came upon a sconce holding a dead torch. Jones reached up and took it, and the stairs at the entrance ground into motion.

  “Mr. Jones?” Elaine said, a warning in her tone.

  A few moments later the entrance closed, pitching us into darkness. I shared her sentiment.

  “Not to worry, Miss Simpson,” Jones said. “It wouldn’t do to leave the stair open for too long. Wouldn’t want anyone noticing, after all.”

  The strike of a match flashed in the dark, and the torch blazed to life, filling the corridor with flickering light. Elaine stood in a battle stance, a blade in her hand. A thrill of panic shot through me and I stepped in between her and Jones before our patron noticed. Her eyes snapped to mine, a sheen of sweat upon her brow.