by Alison Pensy
As her gaze continued around the room, she noticed three cloaked figures. They were standing in another room off to the side of the top of the steps where she'd seen the tortured soul just moments ago. Two men and a woman draped in blue robes looked up at her. The woman smiled and broke away from the others. She moved towards Faedra and her friends, her robes billowing around her as she moved through the crowd. As she drew nearer, she lowered her hood to reveal olive skin, almond shaped, pale blue eyes, and jet black, wavy hair that shone in the lights from the ceiling. Faedra braced herself as the ghost approached. The woman reached them and held out a hand.
Faedra took a hesitant step back, even though she tried with all her will to stay planted to the spot. Baby steps, she told herself. At least she wasn't running for the door this time.
“Welcome to Falconchase,” the woman said. “Do you have your tickets?”
“Right here,” Etyran responded, handing over the red and gold tickets.
Faedra looked at Etyran and let out a nervous giggle. This wasn't a ghost at all; this was one of the organizers of the treasure hunt. Etyran's brows creased, to which Faedra responded with a barely discernible shake of her head and a silent 'it's nothing, don't worry about it' look.
The lady took their tickets and led them to a table at the end of the room where they had to sign in for the treasure hunt. She went to stand behind the table with the two men.
“Simon, can you pass me a cypher wheel?” she asked the man to her left.
Faedra looked at Faen. “A cypher what?”
Faen shrugged.
Etyran leaned over to her and whispered, “It's a cypher wheel. We use it to decipher the codes we’ll get to find the clues.”
Faedra's eyebrows rose with interest. “Oh, okay. Well, that sounds...interesting.”
She turned her attention back to the lady standing the other side of the table.
Simon went to hand the lady a fake fur pouch with a long strap. She gave him an irritated look. “Not that one,” she snapped. “I want that one.” She pointed to another fur pouch that was sitting under the table by itself.
Simon looked puzzled. “What's wrong with this one?” he asked.
The lady looked back at Faedra and blushed a little. Faedra could sense anxiety coming off her in waves and gave the woman a considering look.
“That one sticks,” she answered, regaining her composure.
Faedra's eyes narrowed as she felt the anxiety being sucked away from her and hidden. If it was tangible, she would have seen the energy shoved into a box, the lid being slammed and locked up tight.
The lady looked at her and smiled as she held the pouch for Faedra, one hand on top and one underneath, as if she were handling something very precious.
“Here is your cypher wheel,” the lady said, her smile unfaltering.
Faedra took the pouch. The fur felt soft under her touch and it contained something solid inside. She undid the toggle on the pouch and opened the flap, revealing a solid circle of wood. She pulled it out and put the pouch on the table.
“Wow, that's different,” she said.
Faedra ran her fingers over the cypher wheel. It was made of wood; the solidness of it felt good in her hands. There were three separate wheels layered on top of each other and held together in the middle with a small fastener. Each ring of the wheel moved independently from the others and had a couple of different alphabets carved into them, the letters stained black. Only two of the alphabets she recognized. One was the modern Latin alphabet, the other, which was carved around the outside edge of the largest wheel, was Runes. The rest were new to her.
She let her fingers trail over the different symbols. “This is beautiful.”
She thought that with the amount of cypher wheels they were handing out, they would just be plastic rubbish made in China. But the craftsmanship that went into this was spectacular; it must have taken someone umpteen hours to make.
“So what are these other alphabets?” Faedra asked the cloaked lady.
“This one is Theban; we believe it was used to write the Liber Juratus.” She trailed her finger over the swirly symbols that were carved into the top of the large outer wheel. “This one is Ogham, alphabet of the Druids.” Her finger moved to the symbols depicting straight lines layered over each other that were carved into the second, smaller wheel. Both of those wheels also hosted the Latin alphabet. Her fingers then trailed to the middle circle, “and this one is Enochian, it's angel script.”
“What? As in, real angels?” Faedra asked.
The woman nodded. “We believe so, yes.”
“Wow.”
“As you are our last participants to sign in, we can go ahead and explain to everyone how to use it,” the woman said as she picked up a cypher wheel from the table and held it up in front of her.
Faedra's group took a couple of steps back and joined the other participants huddled together in small groups around tables in the pub.
“May I have everyone's attention please?” the woman called across the pub as she tapped a glass with a spoon. She stood at the top of the steps in the center of the pub so that everyone in each of the pub's three small rooms could see her.
The room fell silent and all heads turned to the organizers.
“Shortly, we will be handing all of you your first clue, but I need to explain to those of you who have never used a cypher wheel how it works. It's very simple really. The clue will be written in one of the different alphabets on the wheel. Each clue will also have its own number. You use this number to align the wheels correctly, allowing you to decipher the clue. Any questions?”
Several people raised their hands and the organizers answered their questions. They then started handing out blood-red envelopes, with a golden falcon stamped on them, to each group. When every group had an envelope, the lady in the blue cloak announced that the treasure hunt had begun.
“Good luck, everyone,” she called over the din that erupted as envelopes around the room were torn open and their contents ripped out.
CHAPTER FOUR
Etyran ripped open their envelope with an enthusiasm that was palpable. He was like a kid at Christmas. Faedra could feel everyone's excitement and her smile widened. He pulled out a piece of gold colored card that was embossed with a paragraph of swirling letters.
The four huddled together around their clue.
“This is written in Theban,” Jocelyn stated, comparing the letters to those on the cypher wheel.
Faedra held out the device, moving the wheel around as Etyran held up the card for her. She called out the letters, as they were deciphered, to Jocelyn who was writing it all down on the notepad they were given with the cypher wheel.
When Faedra finished with the last letter, all eyes turned to Jocelyn.
“What does it say?” Faen asked.
Jocelyn gave an excited look around at her three cohorts who were eagerly waiting.
“It says,” she looked down at the notepad, “yards of cloth were made here, along with chocolates to delight.
But most famously, a horse held dear, a stallion as black as the night.
Seek the machine where words abound, for that is where the clue will be found.”
The four looked at each other with blank expressions for a moment before a group of giggling girls distracted them as they exited the pub. Their clue already deciphered. Faedra could hear them squealing even after they shut the door behind them.
“It can't be too hard if that lot figured it out,” Faedra said, trying hard to hide her disgruntled feelings.
“Now, now,” Faen whispered, “Be nice.” He gave her a smirk.
“Sorry. Okay, so what do we have to go on? It's going to be a landmark so it's got to be historical or famous. What on earth do cloth, chocolates, words and a horse have in common?”
“Well,” Faen chimed in. “Cloth and chocolates are made; even words are made, especially if they are made into a book.”
Faedra clapped both ha
nds around Faen's cheeks and gave him a kiss. “You, genius! Could it be that simple?”
Faen's eye's widened at his charge's exuberance.
“A black stallion. Of course, it has to be Black Beauty, one of my favorite books growing up. One of Norwich's claims to fame is that it was printed just around the corner at Jarrold's printers. Jarrold's own St. James Mill which also used to be a cloth factory before it was a printers. I'm guessing they made chocolates there, too, at some point,” Faedra stated in an excited whisper so as to not announce it to the whole pub. She looked around and saw confused looks still on most of the participant’s faces. “Come on, let's go.” Faedra grabbed Faen's hand and headed for the door.
“And we're off,” Etyran said as he grabbed Jocelyn's hand and followed after Faen and Faedra.
It only took them a few minutes to get around to St. James Mill. The long oblong building towered over them at least six stories high. Countless windows were nestled amongst its red brick exterior. The building stood alongside the river that meandered through the city and was lined with willows that swooshed in the light breeze, their branches kissing the cold flowing water below.
The four ran to the entrance doors only to find them locked.
“What?” Faedra said, dismayed. “But this has to be the place.”
“Down there,” Jocelyn pointed further down the building to an open door. The group of giggling girls was exiting the building. They had found the next clue and were on their way again.
The four friends took off down the path, returning the smiles from the group of girls as they passed.
“Maybe we should just follow them,” Faedra mused, as she watched them run past her.
“Now where would the fun be in that?” Faen responded, bringing Faedra's attention back to the task at hand.
When they reached the door it had a sign above it. 'Printing Museum'. They filed inside one-by-one. The large room was filled with printing presses and all kinds of equipment used for printing throughout different eras. A musty smell hit Faedra's nostrils and she subconsciously screwed up her nose.
“Seek the machine where words abound,” Faedra read from the notepad.
They all scanned the room. “That could be any of these,” Etyran stated.
“Over there,” Faen said, pointing to a wall full of typewriters, from vintage models to more modern day electric models. They moved towards the typewriters. Sticking up out of a typewriter that sat in the middle of the display was a golden piece of paper. All four leaned in. They had found the next clue which was neatly scribed in the Ogham alphabet this time.
Faedra pulled the cypher wheel out of its pouch. “Who wants to do the honors this time?” she asked.
“You can do it,” Faen replied. “You seem to know what you're doing with that thing. Jocelyn is still the note taker?”
Jocelyn held the pad and pencil up in acknowledgment.
“What does this one say?” Etyran asked when Jocelyn had finished scribbling the letters onto her notepad.
“Its title may be deceiving, for it's no longer patients receiving.
But for those with privileged eyes, in the Cathedral's shadow it lies.
Sit down and enjoy a cup of tea, in the ward where eagles fly free,
for the pot used to make the brew, is an excellent place to hide a clue.”
The group looked at each other.
“What the heck is that supposed to mean?” Faedra asked, bewildered.
“Darned if I know,” Faen responded.
Faedra turned to Jocelyn. “Anything?”
Jocelyn shook her head.
“How about you?” Faedra asked the Lightbender.
“Not a sausage. To be honest Fae, we really don't know that much about the city's landmarks.”
“What do you mean? You've been around a lot longer than I have,” Faedra said.
“That is true.” Faen interjected. “But we had no need to be here in this realm until you were made my charge. I had not been to The World of Men before that time, so in essence, we know not much about this city.”
“Well, a great lot of help you lot turned out to be,” Faedra snorted and held her hand out for the clue. Jocelyn passed her the notebook.
“No longer receiving patients. So it used to be a hospital,” Faedra mumbled to herself. “The main hospital moved out of the city a few years ago and they made apartments out of the old one, but it can't be that one, it's not in the shadow of the Cathedral. Privileged eyes? What does that mean? Hmm...” Faedra looked around the group to see expectant eyes staring back at her, the owners' breath bated in anticipation.
Just then another group of people burst into the museum.
“Come on, let's think about this outside,” Faedra said to her group. Deep in thought, pencil to her lips, she followed Faen out of the door to the fresh breeze outside. The willows seemed to whisper to her as the four of them stood under their weeping boughs. After a moment, Faedra broke the silence. “I have an idea. I'm not sure if it's right, but it's the only thing I can think of at the moment. Just around the corner is The Great Hospital. It's really old but it's not a hospital anymore; it's a care home for the elderly.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Etyran said.
“Well, the only one we have, anyway,” Faen continued with a sly curve to his lips.
“This way, then.” Faedra directed her friends. They took off at a steady clip out of St. James Mill and back around the corner past the pub they just left a little while ago.
A few moments later, they were standing in front of the open iron gates at the entrance to The Great Hospital. They stared at the rambling buildings that sprawled out in front of them. Faedra's shoulders sank.
“Even if this is the place, how the heck are we going to find a teapot in that lot?” She opened her arms wide to encompass the many beautiful buildings that were now home to some very lucky elderly residents. Faedra turned to look up at the ancient church tower that rose up to the right of her, for inspiration. The original hospital had been housed in the church itself. Apparently, it was the only church in the country to have chimneys. They had to build fireplaces to keep the patients warm.
“This might help,” Jocelyn said a little off to their right, tearing Faedra from her thoughts.
Faedra, Faen and Etyran turned to see the young fairy staring at the wall to the right of the wrought iron fencing. Intrigued they wandered over to join her. On the wall was a large information board telling the history of the buildings with pictures to go with it. Jocelyn was pointing to one picture in particular.
“I think we have found where 'the eagles fly free',” she said.
“Oh, well done, Sister,” Faen said giving his sister a rub on the shoulders.
Jocelyn turned to her friends with a very satisfied grin on her face.
Faedra leaned in to get a better look at the picture Jocelyn had pointed out. The entire vaulted wooden ceiling was painted with dozens upon dozens of black eagles.
The Eagle Ward was in the oldest part of the buildings and it didn't take much to decipher which one that was. They ran through a passageway and into a tiny set of cloisters, their footfalls echoing off the walls. Even through their excitement of getting close to the next clue, the cloisters threw off a tremendous feeling of peace. Faedra fell instantly in love with the building and its surroundings and thought to herself how lucky the residents were to live in such a place. There were a couple of doors they had passed but attempts to open them proved fruitless, they were all locked. A few more strides and they came to a door that was left open.
“This must be it if all the others were locked,” Jocelyn stated.
Just as Faedra was about to follow the others through the door, she sensed an energy that wasn't there a second before. She turned to look through the cloister arches. Her eyebrows scrunched. Was someone there? She leaned to one side, opening up her view across the garden square in the middle of the cloisters.
“Come on, you.” Etyran grabbe
d her by the arm. “We haven't got all day you know.” He gave her a playful tug though the door.
Maybe it was just a shadow. Faedra thought as she got pulled through the doorway.
A staircase of foot worn wooden steps led upwards as soon as they stepped through the door. The handrails, worn by centuries of palms, felt as smooth as marble to the touch. The steps groaned under the weight of the four friends as they made their way up the staircase, making their disapproval known. When they got through the heavy wooden door at the top, Faedra gasped. The picture on the board outside was pretty impressive but it did little to compare to the real thing. The ceiling towered above them, once part of the church. Black eagles were painted uniformly across the entire expanse. There must have been at least two hundred, but she didn't have time to count.
The room was partitioned into cubicles along both walls. A quick peek inside and she could see beds and old furniture set up into makeshift living quarters. It was left just as it had been many years ago. A piece of living history frozen in time.
Her friends were busying themselves looking in each of the cubicles down the long room. Although, she could tell, even in their exuberance, they were taking care not to damage any of the items on display.
“Nothing in this one,” Jocelyn called.
“Nor this one,” Etyran said.
“I'll look further up,” Faen told everyone.
At one end of the long room was a snug, a little room with a couple of chairs and a fireplace. If they were going to brew tea anywhere, it would be in the snug.
She poked her head in the tiny room. A kettle and teapot were positioned on the hearth in front of a fireplace. She lifted the lid off the teapot. Sure enough, a golden card was tucked inside.
“Found it!” Faedra exclaimed as she plucked the clue from its hiding place.
This time the clue was written in what the organizer had told them was Angel script. Enochian. The others joined her as Faedra moved the circles of the cypher wheel letter by letter, relaying the Latin equivalent back to Jocelyn who started to studiously scribble them down on her notepad.