“I can’t believe you’ve shown it tous,” said Ophelia.
Lilith said nothing. She was waitingfor the professor to show her the way but could see nothing here except dustyold books.
The Professor was still thinking. Why hadshe brought these two innocent young girls to such a place? Was it right togive them the Sabbaroth of Og,the small leather-bound book that told of Dark Pagan’s most dangerous cult? Wasit wrong to use them as an instrument to get what she wanted? She was about toshow them how to resurrect the dead, using witchcraft of the highest order. Apart of her abhorred what she was doing but another part wanted to urge themon, relishing the prospect of a reunion with her beloved Simon. When she’dfirst been cursed and had heard that terrifying voice telling her to take Simon’sblood, she hadn’t understood what was going on. But after many years ofresearch she was convinced that her sinister whispered voice belonged to ArddhuOg, the Dark Pagan God of bile, blood and vitriol. It was a shock to know itnow lived inside her mind, a tumour of evil intent, and she struggled tocomprehend how the curse was spread. How someone could chant the darkest ofDark Pagan incantations, obtain the merest touch of your blood and implant it– bringing such manifest changes to the mind and body.
“If I trust you to be brave enough todo this most foul and evil witchery,” she said at last, “then I think youdeserve to know everything.”
“We do,” said Lilith eagerly, pleasedthat she wasn’t being treated like a child. “We won’t let you down. I’m lookingforward to doing whatever you need us to do.”
The Professor opened the wooden chestin the corner of the room.
“The most subversive books of all arestored in here. This is where we’ll find what I’m after.”
She searched for a while then pulled outa fairly large black book, gripping it tightly in her bony white hand. Her backbegan to bend slightly, as its weight seemed too great for her to bear. Sheplaced it on the table and took a moment to catch her breath. When she wasfully recovered she slowly opened it. The girls looked over her shoulder,fascinated. The pages were of thick yellowing paper with lettering that wasquite faint.
“It was printed by a dark paganpublishing house in South End in the 1760’s,” said the Professor, “When the bancame about a small number of what were deemed the most dangerous books were tobe destroyed at any cost. This particular title was on that list and as far asI am aware this is the only surviving copy. It’s called the Almanac Regenerationis. It tells the most amazing secret ofall. When a person in the grip of Arddhu Og is killed they do not rot away.They are reduced to what is known as ‘ceare’. This strange and magicalsubstance is little understood by science, but can bring back life…” She closedthe book and with a hard, flinty stare handed it to Lilith. “You two need totake it, study it, learn its secrets.”
“Bring back life?” said Lilith.
The Professor still wasn’t sure if shewas doing the right thing; but knew she couldn’t do it herself. Resurrection inthis day and age was highly illegal. If she was caught then the authoritieswould surely convict her as a Dark Pagan witch. She’d go to jail and not beable to get another fix. The terrible voice of Arddhu Og would be unleashedinside her mind. She didn’t want to think of what would happen after that…
The Professor took a deep breath andpulled herself together. She decided that if it was going to be done then itshould be done quickly.
“Come now. I will show you were helies,” she said.
“Who is he?” said Lilith excitedly,imagining the fiercest of warlocks. She wanted a rebel, a charismaticrevolutionary, who would lead a growing army of cool rebellious kids in auprising that would smash today’s smug, complacent society.
“His name is Simon Drew.”
“Who?” said Ophelia.
“He used to be a very kind professorhere at the university. He is a good man who’ll be nice to you both and teachyou a great deal.”
Ophelia and Lilith looked at eachother. Lilith almost stamped her foot with rage. There was no way she was goingto use her new-found witchcraft skills to bring back a ‘kind professor’. ThisSimon Drew chap sounded deadly boring. She imagined some anodyne little man incorduroys, a chinless wonder, who’d be unable to lead a coffee morning, letalone a revolution.
“But,” said Lilith,” he doesn’t soundvery-”
“Be quiet,” snapped the Professor.“Simon Drew. Remember that name.”
They left the reading room – with theProfessor locking the door behind them and Lilith hiding the Almanac Regenerationisunder her black velvet jacket – and passed through the maze of bookcases.Coming out of the library, they crossed the busy road but had to stop outsidethe college gates to let the Professor get her breath back.
Lilith and Ophelia watched as theProfessor tried to recover, with bent back and rasping breaths. Her alabasterwhite forehead was glistening with tiny droplets of sweat and her scalp wasclearly visible through wisps of very fine hair.
It was a slow journey down the roadwith the Professor shaking and clutching her stick.
“Are you ill?” said Ophelia, helpingher along like she was an old lady.
The Professor shrugged her off withpursed lips.
They went down the road and stoppedoutside an imposing neo-gothic building next door to the College. It was builtof white stone and had a long row of stained glass windows. Opening the gate,they followed a path through formal gardens that lead to the entrance toConatus Chapel.
It was dark inside the high foyer andsmelt of old wood and incense. They could hear the haunting sound of choralsinging. A tubby, bespectacled man in black approached, giving them a fussylook.
“I’m terribly sorry Professor Jareth,”he said, “but evensong practice is in session. You will have to come backlater.”
“We
