“What do you mean?” Helen asked.
He shrugged. “Just a thought, but in alchemy the goal is to achieve your own personal contact with the One, the infinite.”
“God.”
“Yes, but not necessarily the Judaeo-Christian version of a meddling, demanding, all-powerful figure. The early Hermetic beliefs conceived of an omnipresent energy which infused everything, quickened every atom, every star and scrap of matter as well as thought. As Above, so Below. Everything’s connected. It’s all spiritual and divine. Unfortunately, our material bodies and the temporality of this world somehow interfere with that connection, distracting us. Alchemy, including the Emerald Tablet and the sacred texts, is a way to restore the lost connection. And if you succeed and regain that contact with the divine, if you’re freed of the impurities of this false world, you perceive all truth and can do and experience things that seem miraculous or supernatural.”
Phoebe thought for a minute. “Like what we can do?”
Caleb nodded. “Think about it. This is the only thing that explains the existence of our abilities. How can we see things in distant lands or times, just with our minds?”
“Because reality isn’t what it seems,” Helen said, nodding. “It’s all connected.”
“Exactly.” He looked out the window again. “Many religions carried on the Hermetic message, transforming it slightly here and there and incorporating its beliefs into their own. Buddha maintained the world was an illusion, a veil pulled over our eyes to blind us to our inward spirituality. Early Gnostics and Copts taught that we lived in a material prison created by an evil god, and only through meditation and purification could we pull our spirits free.”
“Excuse me, but how did we get off track?” Waxman threw his hands up. “Why are we in the Twilight Zone? This is about treasure, not religion.”
“It is about a treasure,” Caleb said. “But not what you and Mom have been thinking you would find. It is knowledge of man’s inner divinity. The power of life over death, of spiritual freedom.
“Alexander the Great went into the Egyptian desert and found the tomb of Hermes, of Thoth, and took the ancient tablets he found there. When he emerged, the oracle proclaimed him king of all the world. Alexander studied these tablets, and the teachings clearly went to his head; eventually some of his own generals began to fear him and moved against him. But he and his followers had hidden the treasure, maybe under the Great Pyramid at first, as Cayce claims, then according to Herodotus and Plato, in the temple of Isis at Sais, and then ultimately moved to Alexandria.
“And,” he continued, “at a pivotal moment in man’s history, when we had a choice between two paths, we chose darkness and subjugation over light and freedom. Copies of these books were rounded up and destroyed. The practitioners were demonized, tortured and killed by the thousands. Yet all through history these secrets have been preserved, hidden away, surfacing only in veiled disguises-in Renaissance art, in symbolic literature like the Grail legends and chivalric poetry. In short, they were hidden in plain view.”
“What?” Helen asked.
“In plain view,” Caleb repeated. “It’s one of the other tenets of Alchemy. ‘ Conceal in plain view what is secret. ’” He closed his eyes and thought again about the sealed doorway, and for a moment he thought he had it. The answers were right there. Or very close. Then the opening revelation faded.
“Throughout history,” he continued, “the lessons of the Emerald Tablet and the philosophical practices continued, working their way into art, into culture.”
“The Tarot,” Phoebe said, smiling. “See, I did read your book.”
“Thanks, at least someone did. But you’re right, the Tarot represented in image form all the elements of Hermetic ascension, depicting the path to divinity veiled as a game. It’s why the Church banned it in 1403, seeing it as a threat to their spiritual dominion. But like many pagan belief systems, it was found to be easier to co-opt and assimilate such an attractive ritual. The Church reintroduced the deck, but excluded the Major Arcana, the representations of the steps in the realm of the Above. Those were the cards which represented spirituality and communion with the divine. And they also removed the Knights, in opposition to the Knights Templar, most likely, and left us with a deck of just fifty-two cards. Four suits signifying the four elements in the Below stages of transformation, with the Joker, or the Fool, who represented the initiate before beginning on the path to enlightenment.”
Phoebe nodded. “Loved that connection you made. Spades are swords, symbolizing separation and representing Air; Diamonds are the coins of the Tarot, reflecting Earthly desires; Clubs came from the Greek symbol for Fire; and Hearts were the Water of emotion.”
“Now we’re talking about cards?” Waxman was becoming exasperated. “Caleb, I swear I liked you better when you were in prison.”
“George…” Helen scowled at him, then turned back to Caleb. “How does this help us?”
“I don’t know if it does,” Caleb said. “I learned everything I could about the Tarot, about alchemy and the study of the tablet, but I still couldn’t get past the third step before the door. I don’t know what it wants. Unless… maybe the vault was designed in such a way that only those who sought enlightenment, only the purest, could enter.”
“You, pure?” Helen said. “You’re a good boy, Caleb, but-”
“They had pinned their hopes on me,” he said. “Lydia sacrificed herself for their cause-or at least her version of it. She thought only such a trauma would accelerate my spiritual advance toward enlightenment, or purity, in a sense, expecting that I could then fine-tune my talents and open the vault.”
“Why couldn’t they figure it out for themselves?” Waxman asked. “If this tablet thing was translated into Arabic, transmitted around the world after they saved some early books from the Christian fanatics, surely others have had access to the spells or whatever?”
“Apparently something’s missing,” Caleb said. “The Philosopher’s Stone. The Holy Grail. They can’t find it, although they’ve come close. No alchemist has ever been able to truly perfect the process and obtain it. Maybe that’s because the actual physical copies of the books are not available. The early legends maintain that the material the Emerald Tablet was written on had something to do with the powers it could grant. Or else, maybe there were translation errors.”
Waxman shrugged. “Whatever. In any case, Gregory and his gang want what we have, or what they think we might have. We have to figure this out first.”
“Why do you care so much?” Caleb asked, turning to Waxman. “I mean, if the vault doesn’t hold riches and gold and everything; if this turns out to be nothing but a collection of old books, won’t you be pissed? You’ll have wasted your entire life.”
Helen leaned over the table. “Caleb, if it’s what you think it is, we’ll transform the planet. We’ll be heroes.”
“Rich heroes,” Phoebe added, smirking.
“Good enough for me,” Waxman said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“All right,” Helen said. “Caleb, will you help us again? It’ll be like old times.”
He tried to smile. “I don’t know. I guess, as long as it’s not like it was when we were kids, with Phoebe and me staying in our rooms while you adults have all the fun.”
“Not this time,” his mother said.
Caleb lowered his head and sighed. “I’m in.”
12
Rimini, Italy
The valley hugged the base of a precipitous mountain range, its tips shrouded in dark clouds. From the chiseled landscape and the jutting hills, Caleb could see where Dante had received the inspiration for his description of Purgatory in The Divine Comedy. A short ride past Rimini led to Fortress San Leo. They could have driven up and toured the museum and the old prison and military barracks, but from the details of Phoebe’s vision, there would be nothing there of any help. By the time Cagliostro had been imprisoned inside San Leo, he had already disposed of the scroll. Maybe he had been tortured in the castle, and Caleb could possibly attempt to view his confession, but
