by J M Bannon
Guild Master Saint-Yves desperately manipulated his beads, muttering an arcane incantation. Slowly, a sigil began to surround and glow on the floor around Angelica. Rose could divine from the arcane writing it was some type of defensive binding spell.
The Voodooist made a mopping motion with the Ju-Ju staff over the eldritch sigils Gerrard was conjuring. The sigil broke apart into a grey-green cloud of dust. Angelica slammed the staff down while uttering a chant to manifest the spirits of her predecessors. Gerard gazed in awe as the apparition of Papa Lafayette spilled from the eyes of the dead Hougan's skull.
The phantom of Papa Lafayette moved across the room and grabbed Gerard by the throat. The guild master dropped his beads as his life force was drawn out into the apparition. The ghost let out a hearty laugh, pushed out his chest and stretched his free arm towards the Ju-Ju staff, channeling Gerard's soul into it. Gerard screamed as he began to wrinkle and age.
Angelica never saw Seer Thomas enter the room as she worked her spell. The Seer plunged a dagger between Angelica’s shoulder blades with both hands assuring full penetration. With the blade buried to the hilt, he twisted the handle to actuate a mechanism. With that twist, a valve opened, releasing the contents of a crystal vial, a potion pressurized with aether. The soul serum was the name the necronists gave it. This potion was designed to inject through the center bore of the blade and into the victim, not a poison but an arcane reactive fluid that initiated the coagulation and collection of the spirit force back into the vial in the weapon’s handle.
The instant the dagger plunged into Angelica’s flesh, she released her staff, and the spell was broken. Gerard fell to his knees, racked with pain.
Rose stood frozen in silence. Torn and confused, Angelica had shared her memories with her moments ago and now she lay prone and lifeless on the floor. Seer Thomas hovered over the dead body of Angelica. Gerard arose to his feet with some effort. He was visibly older. He limped to the mantle and put the orb into his coat pocket. The ex-nun watched the guild master as he steadied himself on the mantel. Rose felt a tap on her upper arm. It was Detective Williamson standing behind her in the archway with his pistol drawn.
* * *
10:31 PM, Pilton Road
“Drop the knife,” instructed Dolly, his gun pointed at Seer Thomas, who was still standing over Angelica and holding his dagger. As if in a trance, Thomas let the blade fall to the floor. Dolly quickly surveyed the room. Rose looked worn out but safe at his side, the woman on the ground had a stab wound to the back and there was Saint-Yves and one of his cronies with what had to be the weapon that stabbed the woman.
"Dear Detective, how timely of you to show up,” said the guild master, who turned to face Dolly. He pointed to the floor. “The murderess you have been seeking. She was attempting to kill me when my colleague stopped her."
Dolly waved his pistol at the gruesome scene of Lord Oswald. "Christ, what the hell happened to that poor fucker?"
Rose spoke, “The remains of occultist Lord Oswald, who failed a phase-shift attempt, not a direct attack by Ms. Du Haiti."
Burton entered the hall from the back of the house with the driver in cuffs and his pistol drawn. “Detective Sergeant, I nabbed this guy going in the back door.”
"Burton, get outside with that one and blow your police whistle to alert the uniformed constables and request a paddy wagon," barked Dolly, his attention back to the parlor where Gerard had moved from the mantle to the body of the priestess. He was reaching for the Ju-Ju staff.
“Dolly, don’t let him touch that,” yelled Rose.
“Guild Master, you just stop moving right now,” ordered Dolly, realizing Burton had not left the hall yet. He looked to the young detective and saw him standing dumbstruck. At first, he chalked it up to the gruesome scene, but then he heard the murmuring of the two necronists.
He turned to see them both chanting then he felt something warm on his left-hand side. It was the amulet that Rose had given him. He could see it glowing through his pocket. He then saw Rose’s necklace charm glow.
"You two shut your traps now."
They continued with the mesmerism.
“Rose, they are trying to hex us. Do something to protect Burton,” yelled Dolly. She and Dolly were safe at the moment with the wards she had made to defend them, at least he thought they were since he felt like he was thinking clearly.
Rose turned, pulling off her coat. “This will afford him some protection,” said Rose as she threw the coat over Burton, diving on him like he was a man on fire.
No way will I become a mind slave under someone’s control or be made to fight Rose or Burton. “Alright, let's give this a try," he shouted.
He placed a bullet into Seer Thomas's thigh. Blood and gristle flew, and the necronist went down with a howl.
The report of the pistol broke Gerard's concentration. He bellowed, "You can't shoot him. We are diplomats, guests of your government!"
Dolly squared his gunsight on Gerard's head. “One more move from your lips, and I'll let this next chamber go.” As Dolly stared at his head through the sight, he realized how ill and haggard the guild master looked. “Now, Guild Master, you look like you need a lie down. Why don't you just have a seat and keep your arms in the air and palms facing me. Don't say a word.”
The detective lowered his pistol and looked at the other necronist. He was passed out and losing blood fast. “Looks like I may lose my badge ,but your mate's going to lose that leg. Burton, get outside and start blowing your whistle to get some uniforms in here.”
Burton snapped out of his haze as he collected himself after Rose’s body tackle.
“Rose, come here.” He handed her the pistol. “You get close to the guild master and point this at his head. If he tries to summon anything, pull that trigger and conjure a hole in his head.”
Rose took the pistol in both hands and stepped next to Gerard.
Dolly took off his belt and grabbed a candlestick to fashion a tourniquet. Thomas would certainly lose the leg. Staving off the loss of blood would be his only chance at living through the night. While he worked on the leg, he considered Saint-Yves seated in the chair, "I know what you’re up to. You were trying to mesmerize me and Burton. You two are under arrest for the murder of Angelica du Haiti.”
“So that's how the Metropolitan Police work? We do your dirty work, and now you arrest us?” retorted Saint-Yves.
“What's he talking about?” asked Rose.
"Never you mind, Rose. If he opens his mouth up one more time, you just pull that trigger. And point it a little more to the left. If you do shoot him, his brains won't be enough to stop that ball and you could hit me."
"Dolly, were you working with them?"
“In a manner of speaking, my boss requested I collaborate.”
“The detective authorized me to hunt her down,” replied the guild master.
“And I also told you to make sure I was on hand. Funny thing is that you weren't the one that tipped me off to Angelica's whereabouts. It was Sister Rose here that sent me a wire-type of the address.” Dolly was struggling to get the bleeding to slow on the seer. It started to sink in that bullet might end his career. “So I'm prepared to bring you in and let the Crown decide if you were defending yourself or here to commit murder,” said Dolly as he gave Gerard a smile while he twisted the tourniquet tighter.
Burton came back in with a constable. "Jesus Christ, has that guy been blasted through the wall? Bloody hell," the constable exclaimed.
"Constable, put some irons on the guild master."
19
Monday, the 28th of June
9:20 AM, Königsberg, Prussia
“Deiter, are the plans complete?” inquired Duke Gorber.
“Yes, Your Grace, as best as I can tell,” the chief engineer replied.
“Excellent. When do you expect to get started on the construction?”
The engineer looked as if he wanted to speak but lost his words.
“When can I
tell Prince von Bismarck that Prussia will have its first air dreadnought?”
“Your Grace, may I speak freely?”
“Go on.” The Duke needed updated information on the progress, even if he had to listen to the engineer whine about his staff, materials and working conditions.
“While my engineers and technicians have the plans, we still need time to grasp the technology of the mechanists. I am informed daily that we require more documentation to unravel the complexities of a subassembly. That confounds us because we do not comprehend the process they use to craft a specific part. I know it pains you to hear it, but this is the most sophisticated airship ever to be built, and we need more time. Before we lay the hull, we need to understand the metallurgy process. For the ship to fly ,we need to master the design of the solar and stellar-scopic registers that drive navigation.”
“What can I provide to make this project meet my schedule?” asked the Duke.
“I need a proper mechanist team and industrialist leaders such as Bessemer, Whitworth and Clooney. Likely I require intelligence from each of them,” demanded the engineer.
“I will be back in one week’s time, Deiter. I want your plan to have a keel laid by winter,” demanded the Duke.
“May I make a suggestion, Your Grace?” asked the engineer. He wanted to provide solutions, not cry about poor resources.
“If it moves our plan forward, I will hear it. If it’s more excuses, then keep it to yourself.” Gorber was at the mercy of the Prussian engineers but did not want to show that weakness.
“If we were to follow these plans and build a replica of the British ship, it would be obvious that we have spies in the London works. Instead, my engineers can take the innovations and integrate them into Prussian designs. In fact, some of these concepts could be retrofitted to naval ships and ground artillery immediately,” The engineer knew he had to deliver some progress given the risks taken to secure design drawings of the HMS Victoria.
The Duke was intrigued. “Continue.”
“For example, we have the specification for Professor Honeysuckle’s flexible armor. One of my engineers postulated that we could line the interior of our dirigibles an immediate improvement to the existing fleet,” followed the Engineer.
“Deiter, strike my request. Upon my return, I want you to have a list of the upgrades and time frame for the implementation of the items you suggest.” The Duke could use this idea to show progress. The Engineer did have a point that a duplicate of the dreadnought would leave no doubt there had been espionage.
“Affirmative, Your Grace.”
The Duke left the factory located on the outskirts of Königsberg and returned to the city center to report to Prince von Bismarck. As the Minister for Internal Affairs, Duke Gorber’s title was an innocuous term for his real purpose as the head of the Prussian spy service.
Operation Braunbär was the Duke’s critical plot, essential for the game at hand of the Minister President of Prussia Otto von Bismarck.
Duke Gorber entered the Minister President’s office. Kiefer, the High Elector Guild Baron of the Alchemists, was seated having a coffee with von Bismarck.
“Guild Baron, Minister President.” The Duke greeted the two gentlemen with a curt bow and click of his heels.
“Have a seat, Gorber. May I call for a coffee or other refreshment for you?” queried Minister President von Bismarck.
“A brandy, sir. We should all have a brandy to celebrate the success of our operations in the British Empire,” suggested the Duke.
“Very well. While we await the bottle, let’s begin with a briefing on the home front. What can you report from the palace?” inquired von Bismarck as he walked to the door of his office and opened it. “Hans, bring three glasses and a bottle of brandy.”
When Gorber knew he had the attention of Bismarck again he began. “The King’s health continues to deteriorate. While none of the doctors have openly speculated on the King’s demise, it appears there is little chance of him recovering from this stroke,” replied the spy master.
“Very well. Do you have a summary on the Prince Regent?
“Not now.”
“How about our Danish friends?”
“Nothing more than you read in the papers, I am afraid. The Danes are sensitive to our disputes to the hereditary claims on the two duchies.”
A steward knocked at the door carrying a tray. “Excellent timing,” said Gorber. “Pour the Minister President and Guild Baron a snifter, for we toast the success of our agents and the illustrious alchemists of Prussia.” The men touched glasses and drank. “The Guild Baron and I are keen to be updated on the results of Braunbär.” von Bismarck inquired.
“My agent in Scotland Yard has confirmed that the police are looking for saboteurs and do not believe the bombing was instigated by home-grown revolutionaries That being said, they suspect the subversives to be French, not Prussian,” offered Gorber.
“What of the designs, Duke Gorber? I blew up my plant for your charade. Was it worth it?”
“Operation Braunbär was a success because of the sacrifice you made for the unification of Germany, Guild Baron. First, there is now a plausible reason for you to delay the supply of LQ to the British. Next, the explosion allowed us to destroy the drafting and records building to cover for the documents our agent stole. We have detailed plans of the Victoria to design counter measures to the warship. In addition, we have uncovered hundreds of innovations we can begin to include in the design of current and future airships and artillery,” gloated Gorber.
“Minister President, it would mean a great deal to the guild if any of these innovations could be incorporated into our processes,” added the Guild Baron.
“Minister President, I will need to conduct further operations on British soil to obtain additional industrial secrets. Some of what we have learned from the documents indicate other novel approaches in metallurgy and precision machining are needed to master and build at the level of Queen Victoria’s mechanists,” the Duke advised.
“We cannot rely on royal bonds of matrimony to secure alliances nor depend on those affiliations for our security. For decades, our borders have been subject to the whims of the French, the Russians and a pack of squabbling Germanic dukes. No offense meant to the present company,” articulated von Bismarck.
“None taken,” replied Gorber.
“Prussia will lead the Germanic people to a unified German Empire that will rival the French Russian and British monarchies. This empire will be fueled by alchemies of our most prestigious guild and finally bring peace to our people. No longer will our lands be trodden on by foreign invaders,” von Bismarck declared.
Duke Gorber had no reason to doubt the Minster’s mettle to make his vision a reality.
20
Tuesday the 29th of June
11:00 AM, Necronist Guild House, Ile de la Cité Paris, France
Guild Master Saint-Yves reached the shores of France with Moreau by his side and Thomas in a coffin in the hold of the ship. He’d made his way to the headquarters of the necronists and had been resting there for several days. He remained within the walls of the compound until he was certain that the French and English had settled any issues connected to Angelica’s death. Of those that passed on Saturday, he still grieved the fall of Angelica the most. Thomas was devoted, but he was impetuous in stabbing Angelica and the necronist guild had its stock of rash zealots. Then there was Oswald, who Gerard knew for only a few hours, and there again he did not follow Gerard’s aim to subdue Angelica, and for that he surrendered his life. There would be no further talk of the mission today for soon the Emperor would visit the guild hall. The necronist guild house ironically sat next to the Cathedral of Notre Dame on the Ile de la Cité, the site of a medieval hospital. The land stretched from Notre Dame all the way to the Seine. More than a house, it was a compound with multiple interconnected buildings and deep sub-levels that many of the guild did not rank high enough to enter. The site had been a donation t
o the necronist guild from the Emperor himself on the day of his coronation.
The necronists viewed themselves as savants of metaphysics seeking to define the science of the spirit. The Church saw his brother's exploration into the afterworld as heretical and counter to the beliefs and teachings of the Church. If it were not for the events that took place on Napoleon Bonaparte’s expedition to Egypt and the work of one young necronist in particular, the guild may have become a footnote in occult history.
The accepted reason for Napoleon’s expedition to Egypt and Syria fifty-nine years earlier was to establish France’s leadership in Egyptology, but it was more to exert influence in the failing Ottoman Empire. General Napoleon sought to offset the expanding influences of England and the Russian Empire by leading a French scientific expedition with a military contingent for protection; the mission would show his ability to project a force into the Middle East. The research detachment included a metaphysicist and guild member, Sebastian Crocus, to lead the group that found the Rosetta Stone. The tablets provided the key to deciphering hieroglyphics and allowed for the origin of Egyptology through the translation of the symbols to ancient Greek and eventually to all other languages.
Another discovery was made in the royal tombs, the Oraculum, stones scriptures that allowed for decoding messages from the ancient oracle. The necronist seer translated the tablets and instructed the general on the uses of the Oraculum. Napoleon consulted his translated version for every significant political decision, finding it to be indispensable, It was the secret behind what the world perceived as military genius.
While the expedition devoted most of its resources to collecting antiquities and detailing the history of the ancient Egyptians, it was the Necronist Crocus who used the Rosetta stone to unravel the mysteries of the Egyptian priests and the experiments they were conducting to open and close gateways into the afterlife. These discoveries became the basis for the two areas of study in the necronist guild: divination and rejuvenation.