Return to Canifis

say it has taken over a hundred souls since it first arrived in our lands.”

One hundred!

“What you say matches Theodore’s description to the letter,” Doric growled.

“Then it is true?” Sally asked.

Ebenezer nodded. “Theodore confronted her two nights ago. She took a tailor’s child and killed the father. Her talons are poisoned, he believes. She also slew a man last night and left his body on public display, with a message written in his blood. The message read, ‘I am coming.’ Theodore thinks it was her, anyhow.”

“‘I am coming,’” Sally repeated with a shiver. “It’s not just this that is scaring people, however. Have you heard of the prophecy of the High Priest of Entrana, made a century ago upon his death bed?”

“Theodore mentioned it in his explanation,” Doric said. “Something about a true king returning.”

Sally nodded. “That is what makes people afraid. They think it is Drakan, and that soon he will cross the Salve and take Varrock. Others believe it is tied to the legend of Arrav and the Necromancer. This Wyrd seems to me to be a thing from Morytania.”

“That is what Theodore believes,” Ebenezer agreed.

Sally shook her head.

“I haven’t seen Theodore since he first came to Varrock with your request for the steam engine.” Her expression relaxed. “I would have liked to have seen it working.”

“It worked better than we could have hoped,” the alchemist replied. “And speaking of science, what else do you have to show me? Your recent letters have mentioned phosphorous.”

“Ah, phosphorous is the least of our efforts. We have had some success in our experiments with the Kinshra’s black powder, but for that you must be patient. Albertus Black will be here shortly, and I know he is excited to show you what new inventions we have come up with. Only when he is here, and you have both shared a drink, will I unlock the door to the wine cellar.”

“That sounds like a very good idea,” Doric said. “I favour a strong red myself.”

Sally laughed.

“Then you are out of luck, master dwarf, for the wine cellar holds no wine. It is where Albertus and I carry out our research.”

Doric gave a brief curse and rolled his eyes-to the amusement of his friends-when suddenly the front door opened with a loud bang.

“That is him now,” Sally said in excitement. “Albertus is here!”

Albertus Black was a white-haired old man only three years older than Ebenezer. His sideburns crept down his face and met at his chin, where they ended in a short, ill-kept beard. Age had withered him to the extent that he was barely taller than Doric, no more than chest height compared to Castimir, and when he shook hands with Ebenezer, the alchemist was startled by how frail his old friend appeared to be.

“I am glad you have come back, Ebenezer,” Albertus said. “I had hoped to sit with you again for a time, and to talk about the past.”

“Not you, as well?” Sally chided. “We’ve already been over Eloise and her grave. We’ve even talked about the disappearances and killings that plague Varrock.”

“Oh, please!” Albertus said with sudden vigour. “She does go on, doesn’t she? Often I thought it would have been best if I had gone with you twenty years ago. It would have saved me years of nagging. No wonder poor Erasmus died so young.” He sat at the table, next to Castimir, and eyed the wizard with a hint of suspicion. “Do you know young man, I am only twenty years old? Yet look what she has done to me!”

Sally laughed and scolded him for a fool.

“If your bones weren’t so brittle, you would be out, Albertus Black!”

“So you don’t believe in this creature then?” Doric asked cautiously. “The one that is doing the killing?”

“No,” Albertus said without hesitation. “It is the imaginings of peasants drunk on cider or religion. Possibly it is a contamination in the wheat-sometimes that can happen with ergot. And if that is the case, coming at a time when this ridiculous prophecy is talked of and spread about, then is it any surprise that a fearful figure grips the imagination of a folk weaned on legends of vampires and werewolves from over the river? No, it is all stuff and nonsense, and would never stand up to the scrutiny of a scientific mind.”

“You remind me of when I first met Ebenezer,” Castimir said, turning to his friend. “Didn’t we argue about the gods? You believed that Saradomin, Zamorak, and Guthix were all elements of the same god. You are fortunate Theodore didn’t declare you a heretic.”

“I believed that they were like fingers on the same hand,” Ebenezer explained. “Although I have seen much since that time, only six months ago.”

Near enough to make me reconsider my opinions, perhaps.

“I too believe they aren’t as people say they are,” Albertus huffed. “Since time immemorial we have listened to High Priests of Entrana as they lay down laws that govern our lives, setting calendars and dictating marriage ceremonies. And, of course, collecting money from the masses. I have never been to Entrana, but I expect the Holy Isle is a wealthy place indeed!”

“So what do you believe in?” Castimir asked politely.

“Science. Theories to test and then to predict. Let me show you.” The old man struggled to his feet and approached the cupboard that stood against the far wall. From inside he took a copper globe with a pump protruding from the bottom. Gently, he laid it on the table, wheezing from the effort.

“Now, master dwarf or wizard, would one of you be so kind as to use the pump?”

Castimir stood and did as the old man asked. He did so until he had gone red in the face and sweat dripped from his brow.

“That is quite enough. Now, you have just pumped out the air that was inside this hollow globe, creating a vacuum. I believe that not even two horses could pull the two halves of this globe apart.” He peered at them, amusement in his eyes. “Try it.”

Ebenezer watched as Doric and Castimir did so. Once, when Doric spied a small plug, Albertus interrupted. “Not yet, master dwarf. Try using strength alone.”

Sally shook her head.

“It is impossible, Albertus. Show them how it’s done.”

The white haired old man bent over the copper globe and gripped the plug.

“Listen” he said as he pulled it aside. The sound of air passing through the gap filled the silence. Then, with a slight twist of his hand, he pulled the globe apart, and it fell into two neat halves.

“And what does that mean?” Castimir asked.

Albertus frowned.

“It means that the atmosphere that we breathe exerts a pressure.” He peered upward and waved a hand toward the ceiling. “It means we live at the bottom of an ocean of air and gasses. You see, the weight of the atmosphere presses the two halves together when there is a vacuum inside. However, when I remove the plug, as demonstrated, the air inside becomes the same as the air outside, the pressure is balanced, and it becomes extremely easy to separate them. I plan to show it to the King this very afternoon.”

Ebenezer caught sight of Castimir’s bewilderment.

“Well, perhaps you can show us something a little more practical,” he proposed. “Something that my sorcerer friend will appreciate. How about this phosphorous?”

“Yes. More practical and more fun,” Albertus said excitedly. “Come along!”

The small party followed Sally to the door that led to the wine cellar, where she made a great show of fiddling with her keys while the grandfather clock announced midday. Finally the lock parted and they descended into a stone room with arched ceilings, where tables, barrels, and all manner of glass-shaped beakers and tubes were arrayed. To one side was a furnace, and to another was a separate chimney.

Albertus opened another cupboard while Ebenezer looked on with great interest.

This is home to me. I recognise these smells and instruments.

“Here it is,” Albertus announced. “Just a small sample of phosphorus the light-giver. Stand back.” He held out a small stoppered tube containing a white powder. He approached a table, first filling a jug of water from a barrel nearby. Then he spilled the powder onto a dry cloth.

In seconds a pale smoke rose. It was followed by a flash of light as the cloth caught fire.

Ebenezer saw Castimir’s eyebrow rise in interest.