The Alchemist's Door

by Lisa Goldstein

  “Ah, Master Kelley, what a clever man you are,” the demon said. “Though, unfortunately, just not clever enough. You’ve tied your fate to the wrong man—Rudolfs brother Matthias will triumph and take the throne. And then where will you be? Selling elixirs from a stall in the road, I don’t doubt. And that’s if you’re lucky.”

  “No!” Rudolf said. “No, that’s not true. I won’t let it happen!”

  “Such pride,” the demon said. “But Matthias knows all about your sins. I warned you when I spoke to you last, remember? All your mistresses, your illegitimate children … Matthias will have you declared unfit for the crown.”

  “It won’t happen!” Rudolf said. His calm had deserted him; he was enraged, lunatic. “It won’t!”

  Suddenly Dee felt the demon loose its hold. The strength left his muscles and he collapsed to the floor.

  “Hello again,” Rudolf said with the demon’s voice. “I knew if I maddened him enough I could find a way in.”

  “Do something!” Kelley said. “Get rid of it!”

  “Yes, of course, get rid of it,” the demon said. “You didn’t mind when I possessed your friend Dee, or Dee’s daughter.”

  “Last time—you spoke some sort of chant, some spell—” Kelley said to Loew. He looked on the verge of rushing from the room; only his expectations from the emperor seemed to be keeping him there.

  Dee stood up carefully. “Let’s go,” he said hoarsely. “We can escape—the guards are gone—”

  “You can’t go,” Kelley said frantically. “You can’t leave it here, loose like this—you have to send it back.”

  “Unfortunately your friend is right,” the demon said. “Your former friend, I should say. You can’t leave me here. Who knows what I might do, especially now that I control one of the most powerful men in the world? It’s a hard choice, isn’t it? Run and leave me here, or stay and return to prison.”

  Suddenly Dee understood why Loew had not exorcized the demon earlier. He needed an open window, somewhere for it to go. Dee spoke a few words. Glass shattered in a distant room.

  Loew seemed to understand immediately; he began the minor-key melody Dee had heard once before. Rudolf opened his mouth, closed it. Expressions ran like water over his face. Dee watched, sickened, as Rudolf fought with the demon for control.

  Loew’s voice grew louder. Rudolf said something but it was drowned by Loew’s chanting. “Help,” Rudolf said weakly. “Help me.”

  Dee relaxed; the demon was leaving. Or was this one of its tricks?

  “Get it out!” Rudolf said. “Ah, God, get it out of me!”

  Loew sang one final phrase. Rudolf slumped in his throne. “I want that thing out of my kingdom,” he said. His voice was thin but as assured as ever. “You brought it here, Master Kelley, now you send it back wherever it came from.”

  “I had nothing to do with it,” Kelley said. “It was Doctor Dee—”

  Dee did not stay to hear more. He ran from the room, hoping Loew would have the wit to do the same. “Guards!” Rudolf called. “Guards, bring my prisoners back!” But the guards had fled when they first heard the voice. Dee had a moment in which to get free.

  He glanced behind him as he ran and saw that Loew was following. They rushed headlong through the rooms of the castle, passing the emperor’s wonders on either side of them with every step. Candles shone from the walls, their flames reflected in sheets of gold and silver behind them, though the rooms were empty of people.

  Finally Dee stopped, panting, unable to run any farther. Loew had slowed as well. It’s hopeless, Dee thought. Look at us, two winded doddering old men. How can we hope to outrun an emperor?

  Still, they had lost the guards, at least for the present. He strained to hear beyond the rasp of his breathing. They began to move again, walking this time, going as silently as they could.

  “Thank you,” Loew said, whispering.

  “For what?”

  “For breaking that window. That’s a useful trick.”

  “I’ll teach it to you. And thank you for reciting that psalm.”

  A short while later they came to a long hallway with doors on both sides. “Which way?” Loew whispered.

  “I don’t know. Wait.”

  Dee peered into the nearest room. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. He saw books made of leather and velvet and satin, books bound in maroon and brown and black and orange, huge books locked with iron clasps, threadbare books with broken spines, books squeezed into shelves or balanced on top of each other. He went inside.

  “That’s not the way out,” Loew said. “We have to get going—”

  His voice trailed off as he followed Dee into the room. “Look at this,” he said reverently, lifting out a book tooled in gold. “De Arte Cabalistica. I’ve never seen a copy.”

  “And here’s a book on Zoroastrianism,” Dee said excitedly. “And an illustrated herbal. And look—Copernicus’s book, On the Revolution of Celestial Spheres.”

  “Do you believe him?” Loew asked. “That the earth travels around the sun? It flatly contradicts the Bible.”

  “But his calculations—”

  Footsteps sounded outside in the hallway, recalling them to where they were. “Quickly!” Dee said, guiding Loew to a shadowy corner behind a table.

  The footsteps paused at the library. Dee held his breath. Two men looked inside. “I thought I heard something in this room,” one of them said.

  The men raised their torches; light played over the spines of the books near the door. “There’s nothing here,” the other man said. They studied the room a minute longer and then walked on.

  Dee and Loew looked at each other, shamefaced, two old scholars who would drop everything, who would even risk their lives, for a good disputation. Then they both began to smile. For the first time since his disastrous visit to Loew’s house, Dee’s feeling of kinship with the other man returned.

  They stayed hidden until they could no longer hear the men, then left the library and continued down the hallway. One of the doors led to a vast room and they went through it.

  This room opened onto other rooms, and others beyond that. Dee had not realized how enormous Rudolf’s palace was. And each room held pieces of the emperor’s collection. They passed fossils and coins, skeletons and stuffed animals, mirrors and orreries. Once they were startled by a loud ringing sound; a clock in the room with them had started to chime the hour. As if in answer all the clocks in the collection rang out, a cacophony of bells high and low, near and far. Then there were two bells ringing, then one, and then all the sounds faded into silence.

  As Dee entered one room he saw a man sitting at one of the tables at the far end. He jerked back. “What?” Loew whispered, coming up behind him. “What is it?”

  Dee put his finger to his lips, then gestured toward the open doorway. Loew looked inside. “My God,” he said softly. “It’s Rudolf.”

  The king sat motionless, studying one of the objects on the table in front of him. Dee could barely see it in the dim light; he thought it might be a seashell. They watched for long minutes, neither daring to move, as the king contemplated his treasure. Then they turned and left as quietly as they could.

  “All these—these things,” Dee whispered. “All these priceless things, and he chooses to look at a seashell.”

  They continued on, through rooms of paintings, of sculpture, of tapestries and glasswork and musical instruments. Their senses became stupefied. Dee opened a door without thinking and something flew at his face. He flung up his hand and cried out.

  He stood motionless, watching as the thing fell to the floor. “What is it?” Loew asked.

  “Some kind of flying automaton,” Dee said, moving closer to study it. “It must have been connected to the door somehow, ready to fly if anyone came into the room.” He laughed. “I made something like it once for a play at Cambridge. They called me a witch. Here I would just be another of the emperor’s craftsmen.”

  “Hush,” Loew sai
d.

  It was too late. Dee heard men speaking to each other around the next corner, probably alerted by his cries. Loew turned to flee. Dee held his sleeve; they could not possibly outrun them.

  The men came into view. Guards, Dee saw, wearing Rudolf’s uniform. His heart sank.

  “What are you doing here?” one of them asked.

  Dee smiled, trying to look sheepish. “I’m afraid we’re terribly lost,” he said. He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness and held his smile, certain that he looked like the worst sort of fool. “We had an audience with Rudolf and he told us how to get out of the castle, but, well …”

  “You’re nowhere near the audience chamber,” the guard said, frowning.

  “Yes, that’s just the problem, I’m afraid,” Dee said. “The more we tried to find our way out the farther away we got. And of course we were dazzled by all the treasures … .”

  The guard’s frown deepened. Mentioning the treasures had been a mistake, Dee saw; he had only made the man more suspicious. “Take off your cloaks,” the guard said.

  “What?”

  “I said take off your cloaks. No one is allowed in this part of the castle except Rudolf. People have stolen things from here before.”

  “I assure you we are not thieves,” Dee said, trying to put a note of outrage in his voice. “We are guests of King Rudolf. Ask him yourself if you don’t believe me. And while you’re doing that I’ll tell him how you’ve insulted us. I assure you he won’t be pleased.”

  “Tell him whatever you like. He’s the one who ordered us to search everyone in this part of the castle—he’ll be happy to hear how well we’re doing our jobs.”

  Dee shrugged and dropped his cloak to the floor. Loew stepped forward and did the same, but not before the guard had seen the yellow circle on his breast.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I hadn’t heard that the king invites Jews for supper.” He snickered and motioned to the other guard, who stepped forward and began to search Loew roughly.

  “King Rudolf asked me here to discuss Kabbalah,” Loew said.

  The second guard stepped back, a frightened expression on his face. “Kabbalah?” he said. “What’s that—some kind of Jewish sorcery?”

  “Yes,” Loew said. “The king wishes to learn it from me.”

  The second guard looked at the first. “It’s true—he’s always studying some sort of magic or other. We’d better let them go.”

  “We might as well,” the first guard said. “They haven’t stolen anything, anyway.”

  Dee and Loew bent to pick up their cloaks. Dee’s hand was trembling, he noticed; he had been calm while facing the guards but now that he was free to go his terror had caught up with him. “How do we get out of the castle?” he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

  “Oh, just keep going the way you’ve been,” the first guard said, smiling maliciously.

  “But we don’t—” Dee said.

  Loew put his hand on Dee’s sleeve and Dee quieted. They were lucky to leave with their lives, after all. The guards continued down the corridor.

  Without discussing it the two men began to run in the opposite direction, rushing heedlessly through room after room. The rooms began to blur around them. Surely they had been here before, they had seen this double-headed monster, that statue of Mercury.

  “Look!” Loew said suddenly.

  Dee followed his gaze. Several rooms ahead of them he could see a formal garden with a fountain near the entrance. They hurried toward it.

  He strained to hear Loew behind him but could make out only the laboring sound of his breath. The garden lay ahead of him like a sight of paradise. He put on one last burst of speed.

  But as he drew nearer and began to slow he saw that there was something wrong with the garden. Its flowers were blooming, for one thing, though spring had hardly begun. And there was no splash of water from the fountain. No wind shook the trees. It was a painting, a mural completely covering one wall.

  He stopped, gasping for breath. “It’s hopeless,” he whispered. “It’s all a giant maze. We’ll never get out.”

  Loew said nothing. He was breathing hard.

  Then Dee noticed something extraordinary. A small summerhouse stood at the right of the painting, near the bottom. Its door was open, and beyond the door Dee could see a single tree, its branches stripped bare by winter. Was this another illusion? It didn’t matter; the emperor’s guards would be on them at any moment.

  He ran. He could hear Loew calling after him, but he could not spare breath to explain. The air began to smell fresher; he had not noticed how stifling the palace was. Then he stepped through the door.

  The sky outside was black and filled with bright stars. Loew came through the door after him. “It’s night,” Dee said stupidly.

  “It is,” Loew said. His voice was filled with amazement. “We have to hurry. The guards could still be following us.”

  Despite what Loew said they could only walk; their final sprint had taken all their remaining energy. They made their way slowly through the lanes surrounding Rudolf’s palace, the outbuildings looming dark against the night sky.

  Dee felt oddly disoriented. Was this the true sky, the true stars? Or were they still trapped in a room of the Cabinet of Curiosities, enchanted by an astonishingly lifelike painting of the sky and the stars?

  A lion roared nearby, startling him from his reverie. “The emperor’s menagerie,” Loew whispered.

  Other beasts were sounding now, squawking and gibbering and howling. Something or someone shrieked out, “Help! Help!” Dee shivered violently and turned toward it.

  Loew held him back. “They are peacocks,” Loew said. “Nothing more.”

  “They sound human,” Dee said. He shivered again.

  They walked on, hoping the guards had not been drawn by the noise of the animals. It was too dark to see much: several times they stumbled on the uneven cobblestones or lost themselves in a warren of alleyways. Once they passed the menagerie again, coming at it from a different direction.

  Finally Dee noticed that the ground began to slope downward, that they were leaving the precinct of the castle. The usually bustling city below the castle was silent and deserted. Dee’s feeling of unreality grew.

  “How do we know this isn’t just another part of the emperor’s collection?” Dee asked. “How do we know that Prague, that the world, is not just one of his illusions, another room in his palace?”

  Loew said nothing. Dee stopped and saw that he was lagging behind and breathing hard.

  “Do you need help getting home?” Dee asked, concerned. The man was even older than he was, after all.

  To his surprise Loew nodded. “I do, yes. Thank you.”

  They staggered through the city like two drunken revelers. Once they sat on a low wall and gathered their breath. Three prostitutes passed them, tripping over their finery.

  “What are you going to do now?” Loew asked.

  “God, I hadn’t thought,” Dee said. “I can’t stay here in Prague, that much is obvious. I’ll have to go somewhere Rudolf can’t reach me. Poland, probably.” He laughed without mirth. “I left Poland to escape the demon, but it seems to have followed me here. Well, at least my family can stay where they are—King Rudolf doesn’t know how to find them. What about you, what will you do?”

  “I have the beginnings of an idea,” Loew said. “But I’ll need your help. Can you find safe lodgings for the night and come to me tomorrow?”

  Dee shook his head. “I can’t—the emperor—”

  “You can’t set out for Poland tonight. You said yourself Rudolf doesn’t know where you live. Go see your wife, sleep at your house tonight, and then come to me sometime tomorrow. Tomorrow evening would be best. I’ll meet you at the town hall, at nine o’clock. Under the clock, the one you say runs backwards.” He smiled; it had a bitter tinge. “I think my first feeling about you was correct, that we’re both in this together. Whatever it is.”

>   6

  LOEW LET HIMSELF INTO HIS HOUSE. PEARL HAD not gone to sleep or had woken early; she was sitting by the hearth, staring into the flames. She gave a startled cry when she saw him. “Oh, thank God,” she said. “Are you all right? Thank God you’re safe! What happened to you?”

  “I was in King Rudolf’s jail,” Loew said. He sank into a chair, more tired than he had ever been in his life. “I only just managed to escape.”

  Pearl put her hand to her mouth. “In jail? But why?”

  “Rudolf wants some information.” Loew hesitated, then told her what they had learned about the thirty-six men. As he spoke he felt a great weariness fall from him. He had wanted to shield her from danger, but now he saw how good it was to share his burden with someone he loved.

  “But what can we do?” Pearl asked. She looked around wildly, as if she thought Rudolf’s men would break into their house at any moment. “Will he come here?”

  “Not tonight, I don’t think. We didn’t see any of the watch on our way home. And perhaps he’ll forget all about us, or go into seclusion and ignore everyone. It’s happened before. Besides, the emperors don’t like coming here. It’s traditional for them to stay away from the Quarter.”

  “But what if he does? Will we have to leave Prague?”

  “It may come to that. But first we must find a way to protect ourselves.”

  “How?”

  “I have an idea.” He stood and kissed her, then held her close for a moment. “I’ll discuss it with Doctor Dee tomorrow.”

  “Can you trust him?”

  “I think so, yes. He’s a Christian, of course, and he has all the peculiar ideas Christians have. But I think he’s less hostile to us than others would be, and he’s interested in learning.” Loew almost smiled, remembering the two of them in the emperor’s library, the lure of the books making them forget for the time that they were in danger of their lives.

  He yawned widely. “I’ll be in my study. Could you bring me some coffee, please?”

  “Of course.”

  He took a candle and lit the way to his study. Then he sat at his desk, his head in his hands. A knock at the door roused him.