The Fatal Tree

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The Fatal Tree Page 22

by Stephen R. Lawhead


  She let the words sink in a moment, then added, “If the world ends next week and all life in this or any other world is extinguished because of your pigheaded refusal to accept help, I hope it will be some comfort in your last moments to know that, well, the universe and everything in it may have been destroyed, but at least Kit Livingstone held fast to his principles.”

  Kit glared at her and looked away. As he did so, he saw Cass standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Mina’s right, Kit.” Cass moved to Kit’s side of the table. “We don’t have to like it, but it’s our only hope. There is the greater good to consider.”

  “Et tu?” he sneered. “How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough,” she said. “As if anyone could sleep with all the shouting going on down here. Listen to Mina. We have to rise above the hurt and injustice. We have to think of the big picture.”

  “So Burleigh gets off scot-free or I’m the big bad guy, is that it?”

  Cass shook her head. “There is such a thing as repentance, Kit.” She moved closer to him. “Burleigh will one day have to answer to a higher authority for what he has done. He will have to stand before God—as will we all. But right now is not the time, and we are not the ones to judge.”

  Kit stared at her dully, unable to think of a suitable reply. Mina saw his hesitation as a sign that she had gained some small advantage; she pressed it. “You know very well Burleigh has more knowledge of ley travel than anyone else. His experience is invaluable. If there is even the slightest chance he can help, we have to take it,” said Mina. “You must see that.”

  A sneer curled Kit’s lip before she had finished speaking. “If you believe he has some new unheard-of method of interacting with ley lines, then you are a bloody fool, Mina.”

  “And you are a blind, stupid idiot, Kit. Just because we didn’t know about ley manipulation until tonight does not mean that it doesn’t exist. We didn’t know about Shadow Lamps either—until I accidentally discovered what Burleigh was up to with the alchemists.” When she saw this line of reasoning was not working, she switched to another track. “Look, I don’t see we have anything to lose in at least letting him demonstrate the power he is talking about. If it is all fake and bluster, then we’ll know soon enough. But if it really works . . . well, that’s a game changer.”

  The possibility of ley manipulation had surprised them all. The term had been dropped into the conversation casually enough, but it had caused an immediate sensation. Burleigh’s offer of help had included making new Shadow Lamps for everyone, and also instruction on how to use them. “The name ley locator is a bit of an understatement,” he had told them right after suggesting that they were going to need a more powerful device. “The instrument can do far more than simply locate ley lines. For example, the newest model can find not only the lines but very often the people who use them.”

  “So I discovered,” Wilhelmina had told him. “It saved me weeks, maybe months, of trial and error.”

  “That alone would be most helpful to us now,” Gianni agreed, “when we have so very little time to waste.”

  “What else can Shadow Lamps do?” asked Cass. Of the questors, she was the least affected by the earl’s criminal past; whatever he had been or done did not seem to bother her in the least—which infuriated Kit all the more.

  Burleigh had turned to her, his dark eyes glinting with a strange, devious light. “When used in linked conjunction with one another, they can manipulate the ley lines themselves.”

  As ripe with promise as that simple declaration seemed, precise details were not forthcoming. The assertion, it turned out, had not been tested to any great extent; it remained more of an observational phenomenon only. “You mean you don’t really know,” Kit had charged, and then accused Burleigh of lying.

  The earl had absorbed the allegation equably enough, but then refused to expand on his claim, saying only, “You said you needed help. This is what I have to offer. You can believe me or not, that is your choice.” He rose from the table. “I will leave you to think about it.”

  He turned and walked to the door. Wilhelmina rolled her eyes in exasperation at Kit. “Why did you have to do that?” she said under her breath. To Burleigh she called, “But you will help us get more Shadow Lamps?”

  “I said I would, and I will.” He did not pause or look back. “Good night.”

  The discussion had broken down completely after that. Gianni had suggested that it had been a long and taxing day, and that a good night’s sleep would do everyone good. They would resume their discussions in the morning. That had been over an hour ago.

  Kit shook his head wearily, then rubbed both hands over his face as if trying to wash away a stain. He was outgunned and he knew it. At best, he could only negotiate an unpalatable peace. “You’re right—both of you,” he conceded, his voice cracking over the words. “But, by God, it stinks. It stinks to high heaven.”

  “Then why don’t we let God deal with it?” said Cass. “Let’s leave it in His hands.”

  CHAPTER 29

  In Which Wilhelmina Calls in a Debt

  Obtaining a batch of new Shadow Lamps proved more challenging than anyone expected. The alchemists of Rudolf’s Magick Court were disinclined to provide their services—owing, no doubt, to the trouble over helping Lord Burleigh the first time. “The earl is no longer welcome at court,” Gustavus told her when Wilhelmina approached him about making more of the devices. “Besides, Bazalgette has imposed a ban on all such practices.”

  “Such practices as working on projects for court outsiders,” she said. “Is that what you mean?”

  “It is because of your friend the earl. When the emperor found out, he blamed the Lord High Alchemist, and Bazalgette blamed me.”

  “I guess Arthur wasn’t the only one to poison a well,” sighed Mina.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Only thinking out loud,” replied Wilhelmina. “Does this mean you cannot help us?”

  The young alchemist lifted the shoulders of his too-big green velvet robe in an elaborate shrug. “There is nothing I can do.”

  “Not even after all the help I’ve given you in the past? All the bitter earth I’ve supplied for your experiments—not to mention all the free coffee and pastries?”

  “We are in your debt,” acknowledged Gustavus.

  “I am calling in that debt.” She held his gaze with hers until the young man looked away.

  “Please, Fraulein Wilhelmina,” he said, embarrassed now. “The emperor was very angry with us. It is his decision. To be seen working for you without permission would mean prison for me. And Bazalgette, as things stand now, would never give me permission.”

  Mina was not about to allow the matter to fall at this first hurdle. “But you have free time, don’t you?”

  Gustavus nodded warily.

  “Well then, you could make them in your spare time.”

  “You do not understand,” the alchemist complained. “Making so many instruments . . .” He shook his head. “I would be seen. Even if I was working on my own time, as you say, I would still be using court equipment and materials. Someone would quickly find out what I was doing. The palace is a beehive. There is no way to hide it.”

  “Then do not make them at the palace,” Wilhelmina countered smoothly. “You could make the devices down here at the Grand Imperial.” She waved a hand at the dining room filled with patrons. “People see you come here all the time. No one would think anything of you coming and going.”

  Gustavus frowned.

  “We can make a little workshop in one of the bedrooms upstairs.”

  Gustavus bit his lip. “I would need special tools and materials.”

  “Just give me a list of everything you need and I will get it for you—a worktable, tools, metal—anything. Just write it down and I will get it.”

  The young alchemist shook his head. “Bazalgette would find out. I would lose my position—they might even put me in the Rat
haus.”

  “No,” Mina told him. “I won’t let that happen.” She gripped his arm with her good hand. “What do you say, Gustavus?”

  Still he hesitated. Wilhelmina could see him teetering on the brink of the decision. She needed something to tip him her way. “I cannot begin to tell you how important it is that we have those instruments. But believe me when I tell you that it is a matter of life and death.” She tightened her grip on his arm. “Please, Gustavus, you’re the only one who can help us. We need you.”

  He sighed. “I will do it. On one condition.” He raised a finger in the air.

  “Anything,” agreed Mina. “Name it.”

  “You must promise to teach me the secret of astral translocation.”

  “Astral trans—” She stared at him, then smiled. “Ley leaping, you mean? Very well. If that is what you want, I will teach you the secret—after we have tested the ley lamps.”

  The young alchemist removed his floppy fur hat and bowed low. “I would expect no less.”

  “I will also give you free pastries while you work. Now, you sit down and finish your coffee. I will go get something to write on, and we will make your list.”

  “Jah,” agreed Gustavus, “we begin at once. This is good.”

  Even with everyone working on the list, it had taken the better part of two days to acquire all the items the young alchemist required. Burleigh’s sole responsibility was to collect enough of the active earth to make six lamps—one each for the questors and Burleigh, plus an extra in case any malfunctioned. As Kit said, “The last ones we had melted down to cinders.”

  With Cass’ help, Mina turned the room Burleigh was using into a workshop; she had Kit and Gianni move the bed and chest to one corner, then brought in a sturdy table and bench and assembled the necessary tools, equipment, and materials. As for heat—that would be supplied by the kitchen ovens. Burleigh, meanwhile, collected a quantity of activated earth from a stash he had hidden in the city; he supplied a bag containing several pounds of the raw material, which looked more or less like what it was: fine brown dust. All was ready for Gustavus to begin.

  With Burleigh to help and oversee the process, work progressed at a reasonable pace. Kit and Gianni assisted with some of the less technical aspects of manufacture, such as fabricating the cases. Because time was precious, they used ready-made hip flasks—the round pewter pocket containers hunters used to carry schnapps and Jägertee while in the field. They cut the flasks in half and drilled small holes for the coloured glass that would form the lights. They affixed the tiny supports for the internal structures Gustavus would fashion. It was exacting work, made tedious because of the repetition required to fabricate six devices; but at least it kept Kit’s mind off the vile necessity of having to tolerate Burleigh.

  When, six days later, the first of the new gizmos were ready for testing, the questors took them to the ley line Wilhelmina knew about in the countryside a few miles north of the city. Burleigh, flouting the terms of his probation, accompanied them to the line, marked by a shallow ditch carved along the brow of a hill. “This is where I practiced with my first Shadow Lamp,” Mina told them as the hired carriage rolled to a stop. “I haven’t used it lately, but it always seemed fairly reliable.”

  Whoever had dug the ditch had long ago passed from the pages of history, joining the builders of dolmens and cromlechs and other Neolithic architects. Trees had grown up around it, so now the line passed through a thin wood. Gianni handed out the three finished Shadow Lamps—one each to Kit, Burleigh, and Wilhelmina. He and Cass would serve as objective observers for the experiment. Then the earl offered his explanation of how to manipulate the ley line. Burleigh, holding one of the new-model devices, told the group to gather around and he would explain what was involved and how to do it.

  As the explanation unfolded, Kit decided that manipulation was something of an overstatement—interacting would be a better description. The phenomenon could be broken down into two basic components: the physical and the mental. The physical side consisted of two parts—the Shadow Lamp and the ley line; the mental side, so far as Kit understood it, was whatever the ley traveller brought to the game.

  “I knew it!” exclaimed Wilhelmina when she heard the explanation. “I always suspected there was something more to this.”

  Kit gave her a dubious look. Though he secretly agreed with her, he was not about to let Burleigh see it.

  “Things always seemed to go smoother when I was in the zone and concentrating very hard on where I wanted to go and who I wanted to see.”

  Gianni confirmed her experience, saying, “The human will—intention—combined with purpose is well known to influence and even alter atomic interactions. I suspected something of the sort was at work, but never had a way to quantify it.”

  “Until now,” Burleigh told him.

  “Show us,” said Kit.

  He lifted the device on the palm of his right hand. Bigger than the original version, and a little ungainly in appearance, it nevertheless seemed a very reasonable effort under the circumstances. They watched and waited, and just as Kit was beginning to think their work had come to naught, the little row of lights around the outer edge of the one-time flask began to glow—a shade of turquoise as it happened, because they had not been able to find blue glass and had to use green that they got from a broken bottle.

  “It works!” said Mina to murmured approval all around. “Great! Now what?”

  “Listen very carefully,” Burleigh told them. “We will each of us step onto the ley line together. It would be best to maintain a little distance between us—two or three yards. But once in position, do not move. Remain in place and I will tell you what to do next.”

  Burleigh stepped into the centre of the ditch, and Kit and Mina followed his example. Burleigh turned to face them and held out his Shadow Lamp. The little lights were glowing brighter now that they were actually standing in the ley line. “Hold out your device where you can see it.” He waited until they had complied. “What is the destination of this ley—where does it lead?”

  “Nowhere nice,” Wilhelmina told him. “It is a storm-ridden place—all rain and ferocious wind, so filthy you can hardly see your hand in front of your face. I never stayed long enough to find out where it was exactly. I just used it as a shortcut to and from London.”

  “Be that as it may, it will serve for our demonstration. Now then, in a moment I will ask you to concentrate very hard on reaching that destination.”

  “That’s it?” scoffed Kit. “That’s all there is to it?”

  Burleigh’s eyes grew hard. He held his temper, but the effort clearly taxed him. “We must learn to walk before we run, Mr. Livingstone,” he intoned icily. “For now, all I want you and Wilhelmina to do is concentrate on that destination. Simply hold it as an image in your mind.”

  “And that will do what, exactly?” said Kit.

  “You shall see,” Burleigh told him.

  “Behave, Kit,” Mina said. “Just do as he says.”

  “Remember, once the effect begins, stand still as statues. Do not move.”

  “Understood,” said Mina. “Kit?” she asked pointedly.

  “Yeah, still as statues. Got it.”

  Satisfied with this assurance, Burleigh raised his lamp a little higher. “Ready? I will count to three.”

  The earl counted, and Kit lowered his eyes to the ley lamp in his hand. He tried to picture the destination—a grey world, wind-scoured and wet. Seconds passed. Nothing happened. He became aware of the breeze rustling in the trees, and that Cass and Gianni were watching them. He grew a little self-conscious and felt ridiculous for going along with what was obviously a load of old tosh. He glanced up.

  Burleigh saw the movement and said, “Stop . . . You are not concentrating, Mr. Livingstone.”

  “Kit!” said Wilhelmina. “Would it kill you to just cooperate for thirty seconds? Do you think you could do that?”

  “We will try it again,” Burleigh said. �
��It may help you to remember the place as you last saw it, perhaps. Hold that image in your mind.”

  Once again, Burleigh counted to three, and Kit concentrated his attention on the ley lamp in his hand. He closed his eyes and cast his mind back to the time he had made the leap with Mina to what he thought of as the hurricane world. He remembered the rain slashing at him, driving freezing water through his clothes. He remembered the unholy howl of a wind that never ceased. He heard Wilhelmina say, “Oh . . . my . . . gosh!”

  Kit was so deep in the memory that it took him a second to realise he had not imagined it—Mina had actually spoken. He opened his eyes and saw a blaze of opalescent colour ripple along the ditch marking the ley line.

  “Did you see that?” she gushed. “Amazing!”

  “I missed it,” Kit said. “All I saw was a flash.”

  “That was impressive,” Cass said. She and Gianni were grinning. “Do it again.”

  Kit, mildly disappointed to have missed the display, asked, “What was it?”

  “I don’t know,” Cass told him. “It looked sort of like a tunnel of light running down the entire length of the ley line. But it seemed to have a surface of some kind with all these colours moving over it—like an oil slick in the rain when the light hits it.”

  “A very good description,” Gianni said. “It vanished when you looked up.”

  “That,” Burleigh informed them, “was the visual manifestation of the ley energy at work here. It appeared because for that brief moment our three minds were concentrated on a single intentional thought—in this case, the destination.”

  “Then why did it go away so fast?”

  “It vanished because both of you became distracted,” Burleigh explained. “That is to be expected. It was your first time. With practice, we will be able to sustain our unified concentration for more extended periods.”

 

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