The Alchemist's Key

by Traci Harding

  ‘I believe so.’ Tace turned to confirm the sighting out the back window.

  ‘Well, I wish they would stick to the bloody fields where they belong. Fancy riding a horse on the road at night, and in this frightful weather.’ Hugh shook his head in disbelief and then looked to the electrical activity that was now almost directly overhead.

  ‘Here it comes,’ he commented, as a loud clap of thunder brought the rain pouring down.

  Grace was cleaning one of the large, long gallery windows that overlooked the gardens, when she noticed the bright activity surrounding the dig outside. ‘Ma’am. She motioned the older housemaid to come and see.

  Rosia, who was polishing a coffee table, struggled to her feet. ‘What is the matter, child?’ She was slightly annoyed to have to make the effort.

  ‘I’m sorry, but this doesn’t look right to me.’ Grace pointed to the glowing light show. It could have been a regular occurrence, but knowing little about the century she was living in, Grace thought it best to make sure.

  When Rosia spotted the cause of the girl’s concern, she gasped. ‘Great mother of God.’ She pulled the younger maid back a couple of paces. ‘It most certainly is not right.’

  ‘Should I run and tell Mr Jenkins?’ Grace suggested, becoming slightly panicky. She knew her ticket to freedom here in the future was tied up with the strange machine that now glowed like a second sun. Grace feared that Time was coming for her.

  ‘Yes, child, tell Talbot at once. I’ll be right behind you.’

  Grace hurried off and Rosia looked back to the frightful mass of energy outside, which even outshone the extensive storm front that closed in over it. The thunder boomed and a great bolt of lightning shot from the sky to latch onto the towering, glowing rod in the garden.

  A burst of matter shot forth from the dig in all directions. It hit Rosia with the force of a large ocean wave, throwing her backwards into the pool table. Her head collided with the solid timber trim, knocking her unconscious.

  Grace was more fortunate, as she was cast forward onto the carpet. As she fell she could hear Andrew calling her from the other end of the house, then silence. She lay there a second, recovering from the surprise attack, before raising herself up onto her elbows and giving her head a shake.

  ‘So, you finally decided to come back, did you?’

  The voice sent shudders through Grace’s entire being, as she slowly turned to see the dominating form of Frances Ashby the second.

  No! She screamed inside, as the Lord’s hand stung her face with a sharp slap.

  Andrew had begun his search for Grace and Rosia in Wade’s quarters, and was heading back across the domed picture gallery when the wave of matter hit him.

  ‘Grace!’ he cried, and was sent hurtling backwards into the stair banister. On the rebound Andrew lost his footing on the top stair of the long, grand staircase, and was sent toppling down to the marble floor of the Great Hall, where he landed with a thud.

  He was too scared to move right away, fearing that he’d broken every bone in his body; he’d certainly managed to bruise every inch. He rolled onto his back, and managed to raise his battered carcass to a seated position.

  At first glance everything around him appeared normal, but then the subtle differences in the decor began to register.

  ‘Are you alright, Mister?’

  Andrew turned to find the young Ernest Ashby addressing him, a boy about seven or eight years old.

  ‘Oh, God no, anywhere but here!’ Andrew staggered to his feet. He had to find Grace before Ernest’s father did. ‘How can this be?’ Andrew mumbled, propelling his bruised body back up the stairs with the help of the timber stair railing. ‘I never even glimpsed the cat.’

  Upon reaching the domed saloon Andrew hobbled through the drawing room, concluding that Arthur’s appearance obviously had nothing to do with the time-slips. It now seemed more likely that the cat was the only one who could see the portholes that led between one time and another.

  By the time Wade reached the centre of Ashbury, the rain was bucketing down. Hence, he was forced to bring the horse to a halt, under the shelter of one of the shop awnings in the main street.

  Most of the town was deserted, normal business trading having ended hours ago, but the pub up the road was still looking lively, along with a couple of restaurants close by.

  ‘Nice night for a ride, Your Excellency.’

  Wade turned in his saddle to find the young constable who had taken his confession the night before walking down the steps of the police station.

  ‘I mean, the locals have reported seeing some pretty outrageous things in the last couple of hours,’ the policeman added, fit to laugh, ‘but if this don’t beat all.’

  Wade did feel rather ridiculous, considering the circumstances, but as he had no explanation, he didn’t bother trying to come up with one.

  ‘What kind of outrageous things have been reported?’ Wade, sopping wet, climbed from his mount.

  ‘Nothing to worry about,’ the officer assured. ‘This happens every full moon … people hit the bottle a tad harder than usual.’

  As the constable made a move for his car, a great gust of wind knocked him to the ground.

  Wade went flying backwards, although one of the store pillars prevented his fall. Caught by surprise, Wade let go of the horse’s reins, whereby it reared up and bolted off up the street. ‘Damn it!’ He leant back against the pylon, still winded from the collision, when his support suddenly collapsed behind him and Wade fell backwards onto the ground.

  By the time he and the young constable got to their feet, they found themselves standing on the side of a narrow cobblestone road in a little baroque-style township. The pub was still in the same place, only it appeared more like a tavern now, and the rain had gone.

  The young policeman didn’t know what to say. ‘It’s the wrong time of year for Allhallows Eve, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ Wade mumbled, rather stunned himself. For although he’d had this experience before, he’d never imagined it on such a grand scale.

  As they stood gaping at their remodelled surroundings, a coach pulled to a halt beside them and a beautiful eighteenth century madam leant out the window.

  ‘Could either of you fine gentlemen tell me how much further it is to the asylum?’

  The young policeman was rather captivated by the sight of her. ‘There hasn’t been an asylum around here for hundreds of years.’ When he realised what he was saying, and took another quick glance at his surroundings, he pointed up the road towards the college. ‘I think you’ll find it just a few minutes down the road.’

  ‘Much obliged,’ she smiled, and withdrew into the carriage.

  ‘Hold on.’ Wade approached the constable, worried by his perception. ‘Are you saying that the asylum was somewhere near Glenoak?’

  ‘I’m saying,’ the policeman emphasised, ‘that it was Glenoak.’

  ‘Oh no.’ Wade gripped both sides of his head, as if his brain might explode. ‘And I thought our ghosts were bad.’

  The young constable was stunned as the Baron suddenly took off after the carriage and jumped onto the rear of it to catch a ride.

  ‘Wait on, you’re not just going to leave me here.’ The police officer launched into a sprint to catch up to Wade, finally hopping onto the back of the coach alongside him.

  Glenoak College was in virtual darkness when Hugh’s party arrived out front. Due to the widespread electrical faults, the students and faculty had evacuated the buildings and were waiting around in the car park for help to arrive or power to be restored. Most had found a car to cram into to escape the dreadful weather, and the school buses were also being utilised.

  ‘Things look pretty much under control here.’ Hugh opened his door, preparing to make a dash for the administration building. ‘But we’d best find the Contessa and Hannah, just in case.’

  Louisa nodded in accord, climbing out into the rain to join Hugh in his sprint for cover.
/>   ‘Hey!’ Tace objected to their sudden departure, scurrying out of the car with Rex right behind her. She brushed the water and wet hair from her face to make sure she didn’t lose sight of Hugh and Louisa. They were about twenty metres ahead, scaling the final set of stairs that led to the building’s entrance, when they unexpectedly vanished.

  ‘Huh?’ Tace couldn’t believe it, racing to the spot to find no trace of them.

  Rex sidetracked onto the lawn thinking that they might have rounded the building. ‘Hey, Tace —’ he called as he turned to her and disappeared.

  As fast as she hurried to find Rex, her effort proved fruitless. ‘What the hell is going on?’ she cried in frustration, being soaked to the skin by the heavy rainfall. ‘Rex!’ Tace stumbled around in the darkness in a desperate attempt to find her cameraman, but no answer was forthcoming.

  Dipping and dodging the exploding bulbs of the overhead lighting, Hannah found her way to the basement. Here she found the fuse box ablaze with blue waves of electricity, and the two maintenance men scratching their heads over what to do about it.

  ‘In all my forty years as an electrician, I’ve never seen or even heard of anything like this,’ the senior maintenance man told her. ‘I was going to call the electricity station and have them shut us down, but the phones —’

  ‘I know,’ Hannah intervened, ‘there’s too much interference.’

  ‘Perhaps it has something to do with the storm?’ the younger electrician suggested.

  ‘Could be,’ his senior nodded.

  ‘Well, what am I to tell the Contessa?’ Hannah quizzed impatiently. ‘She’s in the middle of a very important meeting.’

  ‘I wish I could suggest something, Miss Martin, but we can’t get close enough to the fuse box to do anything about it. And even if we could, chances are this overload will have melted all the circuits anyway. If that happens, the problem is solved, although we’re going to have a hell of a lot of repairs to do around the campus.’

  ‘Terrific.’ Hannah knew the Contessa was not going to like that scenario. ‘Well, let us know if there’s any change.’

  ‘Will do,’ the maintenance man assured her. ‘And, Miss Martin …’ He called her back from the stairs to give her a candle.

  ‘Thanks.’ She forced a smile. ‘I’m going to need it.’

  The corridors of the administration building were deserted by this time, and Hannah wondered if the Contessa had already fled the building with the investors. ‘Don’t be a chicken,’ she quietly encouraged herself. She proceeded onward, just in case the Contessa was still awaiting her report.

  As she scaled the staircase that led to the offices, Hannah felt a wave, thicker than air, pass over her. The occurrence was chilling to the senses and unlike any draft Hannah had ever felt.

  Light was suddenly restored to the building and, breathing a sigh of relief, she made greater haste up the stairs.

  But how can that be? Hannah considered, for she had witnessed all the bulbs self-destruct on her way down the staircase earlier. She raised her eyes to discover the candelabras fixed to the wall. These had three candles each that lit the stairway with a dim golden glow. A string of eerie sounds and distant cries stopped Hannah’s ascent altogether, for it sounded as if hell itself was up ahead.

  The sudden dispersal of the rain prompted Hugh and Louisa to cease their sprint. That’s when they noticed their destination’s ominous change in appearance.

  The building before them was dark and foreboding. A huge iron fence with sharp spikes lining the top surrounded the large dwelling on all sides. As they were already inside the grounds, Hugh and Louisa didn’t have the problem of getting past the gatehouse guard — not that they were sure they’d want to, given a choice. The building had bars over many of the windows, and unearthly moans and groans echoed from within.

  ‘Is it a prison?’ Louisa questioned in a timid manner, gripping Hugh’s arm with both her hands.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Hugh observed, trying not to sound as apprehensive about their new situation as he felt. ‘It looks more like a private institution. In the eighteenth century such places were established to house the insane and other undesirables of the upper class.’

  ‘What happened?’ Rex stumbled over to join the pair, his eyes fixed on the haunting structure ahead.

  ‘Where’s Tace?’ Hugh wondered aloud.

  ‘I have no idea.’ Rex glanced behind him, only just realising his partner was missing. ‘Where are we seems a more pertinent question?’

  ‘Beats the hell out of me,’ Hugh informed in all honesty, wondering why on earth only they had been transported to wherever it was they were. ‘Did you see us vanish?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rex replied simply.

  ‘And you just followed us in?’ Hugh gathered, wondering why Tace, with all her effrontery, had not.

  ‘Well, no,’ Rex recalled. ‘Actually, I sidetracked a little, thinking you might have circled round the building. Why?’

  ‘Off this way?’ Hugh motioned to his left, which was the direction the occurrence would’ve been moving if it were heading away from Ashby.

  ‘Yes. Why? What is going on?’

  ‘Did you feel something like a ripple of matter wash over you on your way here?’ Hugh quizzed Rex further.

  ‘I felt that, too,’ Louisa interjected, before looking to Rex to see if he had.

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed, both baffled and intrigued. What had he stumbled into?

  ‘And Tace didn’t follow you?’ Hugh found this point most curious indeed.

  ‘I think she tried,’ Rex explained, ‘but I really don’t know.’

  ‘What are you getting at?’ Louisa encouraged Hugh to voice his theory.

  ‘Well, obviously these portholes are mobile. That would explain the different points of entry and exit. But it would seem that they are concentrated and directional. Otherwise, we should have a whole car park full of people off to our right, and Tace would have been able to follow Rex through after us.’

  ‘Maybe she just got scared,’ Louisa posed.

  ‘Tace, scared … never.’ Rex could offer a view on that scenario, although the rest of Hugh’s babble was a bit of a mystery.

  ‘But Tace would have been thrust here like the rest of us if the wave was widespread.’ Hugh stressed the point. ‘Whether she was scared has no bearing on the matter.’

  ‘So you think that something is channelling the phenomenon?’ Louisa concluded. ‘But what? The power-lines?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Hugh shook his head. It was a bit hard to hypothesize, given their current circumstances.

  ‘What phenomenon?’ Rex demanded an answer. ‘I mean, obviously we’ve travelled without moving, but to where?’

  ‘When, is more the question,’ replied Hugh, as the front gates opened, and a horse-drawn coach entered and proceeded up the carriageway. ‘Into the bushes,’ he encouraged.

  15

  The Path of Power

  When the carriage stopped at the gatehouse, Wade and the young constable concealed themselves underneath it. Once it had passed through the gates into the asylum, they lowered themselves onto the carriageway and then rolled off and over into the cover of the bushes that lined the drive.

  ‘Well, look at that,’ whispered the young policeman, who could hardly believe his own eyes — the school, barring one big dwelling, had vanished, and the structure that remained was vastly different to the one he’d come to know. ‘I thought old farmer Brackstone was losing it when he reported, on numerous occasions, that his whole farm had vanished. But now … I do confess I believe him.’

  ‘Is that the report you were on your way to check out?’ Wade enquired.

  ‘It was.’

  ‘And where is farmer Brackstone’s place?’ Wade knew the answer before he’d asked the question.

  ‘Just to the other side of your manor, as a matter of fact.’

  As Wade contemplated the information, the young constable became restless.

 
‘So what’s the plan, Your Excellency?’

  ‘The name is Wade.’ He held out his hand to the policeman, who shook it.

  ‘Phil,’ he informed Wade. ‘Phil Stewart.’

  ‘Well, Phil, I don’t fancy our chances of waltzing in the front door unnoticed, so perhaps we’d best check around the back for a way in.’

  ‘Are you sure your girlfriend and the Contessa are in there?’ Phil double-checked their reasons for doing this.

  ‘No,’ Wade confessed, ‘but I’m not leaving until I make sure. You can wait here if you like.’

  ‘Hardly,’ he scoffed. ‘It’s my job to protect the locals … even the drug addicts.’

  Wade ignored the dig, happy not to have to proceed alone. ‘Good-oh.’ He motioned Phil to follow him and, squatting low, they headed through the gardens towards the back of the asylum.

  ‘Well, I’ll be buggered,’ mumbled Rex, as he witnessed the eighteenth century madam climb out of the carriage and enter the building.

  ‘Yes. Well,’ Hugh raised both eyebrows, ‘at least we have a better idea of when we are placed.’

  ‘So how do you expect we’re going to get in there?’ Louisa squirmed around in her squatting position, as her legs had begun to stiffen.

  Hugh shrugged. ‘In all of the other episodes we’ve experienced, nobody we encountered seemed to think us out of place. So let’s try our luck at the front desk.’

  ‘Are you nuts?’ Rex rose to stop Hugh’s advance.

  ‘Nuts enough,’ replied Hugh. ‘How about you?’

  ‘If you’re game,’ Rex decided, motioning for Hugh to lead the way.

  Upon entering the foyer of the asylum, they found no one in attendance at the front desk.

  ‘The lady that entered before us must have the night clerk detained,’ Louisa supposed.

  ‘I’m not complaining.’ Hugh headed down the corridor towards the staircase to the next level. ‘Is this the way to the administration offices?’