Page 16 of Alchemy of Secrets
Driving through the Hollywood Hills makes you feel as if you’re playing a real-life video game designed by a sadistic city planner.
The roads are steep and dangerously narrow, cars going the other direction are always moving too fast. Then there are all the driveways, which always seem to have construction vehicles or moving trucks spilling out onto the street.
A red ball bounces in front of you. You slam on your brakes, afraid a child might chase after it. But it’s just the ball. It bounce-bounce-bounces down the road.
You drive a little slower, which is all right because you’re practically there. A few cars are already parked. You recognize one of your classmates’ vehicles; it has an old bumper sticker that says Birds aren’t real . You feel relieved at the sight of it. You’re in the correct place.
The Professor has been getting more cryptic with her clues.
The last one you pieced together said There will be an Earthquake in Chinatown on Halloween .
It’s October, and you’d wondered briefly if this was a prediction, not a clue.
Then you noticed Earthquake was unnecessarily capitalized.
You did some digging and discovered that all three of the capitalized nouns are names of movies with scenes filmed at the Hollywood Reservoir.
You visited here once, when you first moved to Los Angeles.
They say it has the best view of the HOLLYWOOD sign, and you have to agree.
It’s the sort of place that makes you want to take up jogging.
You imagine running along the water, a resurrected song from the ’80s playing in the background, making you feel as if you’re living inside one of those movie montages.
There’s no music today, just dry wind and heat.
You feel closer to the sun at the top of the hill.
The Professor is wearing round black sunglasses that cover half her face.
Her back is to the water and the mountains and the perfect view of the HOLLYWOOD sign.
The rest of the class forms an eager horseshoe around her. There are now only nine of you left.
Everyone is waiting for her to speak and she is waiting for you.
She stays still for a full minute after you arrive, so the rest of the class knows you’re the cause of the delay.
Then, so quietly that everyone has to move in a little closer, she begins.
“There are several places in Los Angeles where time moves differently. LAX is one of them. All of you have probably noticed how time often slows to a crawl in those terminals.”
The student next to you giggles. The Professor ignores her and continues.
“It slows down here as well. People attribute the peaceful, unhurried feeling of the reservoir to the water and the view, but I’m here to tell you that it’s magic.
Real magic that dates back to the story I’m going to share today.
Have any of you ever heard of the Chained Library at the Hereford Cathedral? ”
Three hands go up. It sounds so obscure, you’re surprised a third of the class is familiar with it.
The Professor looks disappointed. “In the Middle Ages, books were extraordinarily valuable, and it was common practice to chain them up to protect them from theft.
About five hundred years ago, a large number of these chained-up books and manuscripts began to mysteriously arrive at the Hereford Cathedral.
No one knew why, but so many of them appeared that someone decided to form a library.
“Most people consider it a curiosity, a place to take pictures that can be posted with pithy captions. However, my dear students, there’s a rea son all those chained manuscripts showed up at that particular cathedral.
The Hereford Cathedral is dedicated to two saints, one of whom is Saint AEthelberht the King.
I’d ask if any of you know who he is, but I don’t want to be disappointed again, so I will just tell you.
AEthelberht was a ruler during the Middle Ages who was betrayed and murdered by the parents of his betrothed. ”
The Professor mimes a knife slashing across her throat. And you feel slightly disturbed by how animated she becomes whenever she speaks of someone’s demise.
“Recordkeeping was abysmal in the Middle Ages, so AEthelberht’s life would have been forgotten by history, except that the events after his death are quite remarkable.
As AEthelberht’s body was on its way to be buried, the stories say his severed head rolled out of a cart and restored the sight of a blind man.
Even more miracles were reported at the location of his grave.
“Rumors spread that the grave was magic.
A church was built there, which turned into the Hereford Cathedral, and then the chained books began to arrive.
But it was not all by happenstance, as the stories say.
There was one chained book in the library that was locked up not to keep it safe, but to protect the world from what had been hidden inside it.
The other chained books were all just decoys to camouflage the existence of this volume and the magic that it concealed.
“But even bound in chains, protected by a dead saint, and hidden among stacks of other chained volumes, the magic locked inside this book made its presence known. Stories started spreading around England about people who visited the library receiving preternatural gifts. The most notable of these was a woman from Dewchurch named Mary Young—although it’s doubtful that was her actual surname.
After visiting the Chained Library, Mary Young didn’t age a day.
Eventually, she was labeled a witch and killed for this, but not before her story traveled across England.
Other stories spread as well, until one day the book disappeared from the shelves. ”
The Professor pauses dramatically, letting her story sink in. This is the first time she’s told a tale that doesn’t relate to Los Angeles. But you’re already imagining how she’ll bring it back around.
“To this day, no one knows who took it,” she continues.
“But after it vanished, there were more stories of peculiar magics all over England. There were whispers of time stopping, of loved ones returning from the dead, of a young boy who could kill with his mere words. For one hundred years, there were stories of ordinary people receiving extraordinary magical gifts, until one day the stories stopped. The book that had been stolen reappeared at the Chained Library. Only now the volume was without chains, and it was completely hollowed out. The magical object inside was gone. All that remained was a slip of parchment with a series of numbers on it. I don’t usually share this next part with students, but let’s just say the time feels right. ”
The Professor begins to rattle off a list of numbers. It’s a long list. Finally you think she’s near the end, because she pauses and then she finishes with “One zero two zero two five.”
You’re working on doing some math in your head when the person beside you says, “The numbers are dates. Months and years.”
Someone else says, “The last one is this month.”
The Professor’s expression is difficult to read with her giant sunglasses, but you think she sounds pleased as she says, “You’re both correct. The list is indeed a series of dates, and each of those dates has coincided with the reappearance of the object that was hidden inside the book.”
“What was hidden?” asks the same student who first figured out the numbers were dates.
The Professor scowls. “I just told you. The most powerful object in the world.”
“Are we supposed to find it?” you ask boldly.
“My advice would actually be to stay away from this particular item, but if you hear any rumors about it, please let me know.”