“Yes. I brought it all out here. Took a week. To make another one would take far too long.” JD’s beard was unkempt, and his hair was brushed rakishly in the wrong direction. “I’ve been testing since just after Christmas, once I knew we got rid of that old devil.” He meant the count.
Harlan turned the pages of the book that JD had referred to, seeing reams of confusing notes and diagrams. “Why so many?”
“There are a million permutations of the wheel, but my investigations have narrowed down the possible combinations to several thousand instead. However, I am getting close. At least I know which disc fits now.”
“You do?”
“It’s already in place.”
“It is?”
“Yes. It took a few attempts, but then I realised it had to be done at a certain time—planetary alignments, stars, etcetera. Well, one of several special times.”
“How did you discover that?” Harlan was aware that he was asking an endless number of questions, but the last time he had discussed this with JD was weeks ago, and he hadn’t achieved any of this.
“Mathematical calculations based on potential dates of its construction, the alignments of the cosmos, plus the properties of emerald, and the text itself, of course. It didn’t make sense that it could just be resurrected at any old time. There needed to be a key, and not one that was accessible once in a thousand years, either. When I cracked it, it slid in like warm butter in a pan. You can‘t even see the edge where they join anymore.”
“It’s heavy! How did you manage it?”
“Anna helped me. So now I’m focussing various resonances at it using gemstones—much like I used in my weapons.”
“Like a laser beam.”
“If you have to use that term.” Harlan studied the circle of tables again and saw that an array of objects was pointed at the tablet. JD followed his gaze. “Yes, I use all of them. I manipulate them using the wheel, and they direct energy at the tablet.”
No doubt about it. JD was a genius. Harlan could feel the hum of something around him. “It could still take years.”
“No. Days, I estimate. Maybe even today.”
Harlan’s mouth dropped open. “You mean that thing could grow today? Reveal its secrets?”
“Perhaps. There could be many stages, or just one. And whether I understand what I see… Well, that remains to be seen. Or, it might not grow at all!”
Harlan stared at the cloudy interior of the Emerald Tablet, considering the fact that it always reminded him of the solar system. Up close, it made him dizzy; at a distance, it just seemed threatening. “And what if the power it contains is like a nuclear bomb? Or even just a small bomb. You’ll be dead, and you’ll blow up the house.”
“Or half the county. Or the whole country?” JD shook his head. “No. When I unlock it, it will be because I’ve done it correctly. It won’t explode. I will have earned its secrets.”
Harlan turned his back on it with a great effort. He’d forgotten how mesmerising it could be. “What about Belial?”
“Ah! Our Fallen Angel. Yes, I have found something. A reference in an old book written in the nineteenth century by another alchemist, actually. I believe it refers to The Brotherhood, although he doesn’t call it by that name. He calls it The Consortium.”
“That’s great! Does it mention any names or places?”
“A palazzo in Venice—a grand residence. He had gone there on the invitation of a rich family who sought help with the object in question. A jewel that had strange properties.” JD’s eyes had taken on his usual, feral gleam. “I came across that book about a hundred years ago, back when I was still obsessing about angels. I followed that lead and came up against a dead end. I hadn’t associated it with Belial. Now, however, things make sense. I’d forgotten all about it until this whole thing with Belial’s jewels cropped up.”
Harlan could barely contain his impatience. “Why a dead end? The house was destroyed? Family dead?”
“Oh, no. They were alive. But no one would answer my calls. In fact, I was hounded out of Venice.”
“But what about the original alchemist that they invited?”
“Oh, he spoke very coyly of the object of power after the visit. He was Italian, too. I’ve left the book out in the library for you, with a translation. I don’t suppose Gabe would let me see the jewels they have found?”
“Not a chance.” Harlan already knew Gabe’s view on that topic.
JD tapped his lip with an ink-stained finger. “I suspected as much. Well, if they need assistance, you know where I am. I will say, however, that they are probably far more dangerous than that.” He pointed at the tablet. “But we shall see… Would you like to see my next test?”
“You know, I don’t think I would.” Harlan backed away. “Happy if I head to your library, though?”
“Of course. But stay the night, Harlan. I do want to show you a few other things, too.”
Harlan wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he nodded anyway. He’d planned to meet up with Jackson, Maggie, and Olivia for drinks and a meal, but JD had a story to tell, and he needed all the details he could get on the mysterious palazzo in Venice.
Seven
Olivia had been fretting for hours, ever since she’d received Nahum’s phone call telling her that he was coming back to effectively guard her.
He hadn’t used those words, exactly. In fact, she couldn’t remember quite how he’d put it. Something about how Gabe and his brothers had decided that with things being so uncertain, and with the latest developments, he had been sent to look after her. Sent. He hadn’t volunteered. It was like she was a mission. And that was fine, she told herself. One night of passion and a child on the way inferred no obligation beyond what they had talked about already.
Nevertheless, it irked her, and she tried very hard to shove that feeling aside. She had suggested that Barak and Estelle could look after her if they were that worried, or Lucien, the super-soldier. Surely, he was skilled enough to defend her? But Nahum had hurriedly shot that down. So now, here she was, having cleaned her flat, plumped various cushions, and prepared the guest bedroom, as if royalty were coming to stay. She’d even stocked beer and nibbles such as soft cheeses and pâtés, the things she couldn’t eat now that she was pregnant. By the Gods, she needed a glass of wine. No, a bottle.
She was just touching up her makeup, the barely-there look that smacked of time and effort, when the intercom buzzed from the main door downstairs. Nahum. She really needed to give him the code. She took a deep breath and exhaled, and then let him in. In minutes he was in her hallway, looking devastatingly handsome, and far more self-assured than she felt.
“I feel terrible that I’ve arrived so late,” he admitted, following her into the kitchen. “Have I kept you up?”
“It’s ten o’clock at night, not three in the morning! Besides, I’m a night owl. You know that.” She smiled, trying to look relaxed. “I feel guilty that you’ve been travelling so late.”
He shrugged. “Night owl, too.”
