“Then why did we meet at the Masons’ Hall?” Elaine asked.
“Because Lord Mathers built our temple under their very noses,” he said, voice full of disconcerting adoration as we made our way around the Hall to the unoccupied private carriage courtyard in the rear. “The Masons maintain a notorious secrecy and much of London already avoids this hall. What better place to build our temple?”
What better place indeed? Camouflage one secret society within another. Even if the citizens of London took notice of the Order’s coming and going, they would simply attribute it to the eccentricities of the Masons. Brilliant. We hugged the edge of the courtyard, staying close to the Hall until we came to a stair leading up to the back entrance.
“Let me show you a bit of Lord Mathers’s genius.” Jones knelt at the foot of the stair and ran his hand across the bottom step. He pushed on a particular brick which sank at his touch. A section of the stairs collapsed with the rasp of shifting stone, sliding down to make another staircase leading under the hall. I schooled my face to hide my shock and opened my Sight for a moment. No magic.
Curious.
Jones stood with a satisfied flourish. “After you, my dears,” he said, stepping aside so we could pass.
“Quite remarkable,” I said as Elaine and I stepped into the gaping maw of the corridor beyond.
“Lord Mathers never fails to impress,” Jones said, following on my heels.
The light from outside diminished as we descended. A few feet inside, we came upon a sconce holding a dead torch. Jones reached up and took it, and the stairs at the entrance ground into motion.
“Mr. Jones?” Elaine said, a warning in her tone.
A few moments later the entrance closed, pitching us into darkness. I shared her sentiment.
“Not to worry, Miss Simpson,” Jones said. “It wouldn’t do to leave the stair open for too long. Wouldn’t want anyone noticing, after all.”
The strike of a match flashed in the dark, and the torch blazed to life, filling the corridor with flickering light. Elaine stood in a battle stance, a blade in her hand. A thrill of panic shot through me and I stepped in between her and Jones before our patron noticed. Her eyes snapped to mine, a sheen of sweat upon her brow.
“Are you alright?” I asked, concerned.
She twitched a nod, and the blade disappeared as if it had never existed. “How do we open it again?” she asked Jones, her voice tight.
“The sconce here acts as a lever as well,” he replied with a smile as if he hadn’t noticed Elaine’s distress. “Pull it and the entrance will open.”
“It certainly leaves quite the impression," she said with a nod. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Curious. She’d entered just fine, so the thought of being trapped inside must have caused her alarm. I wondered where such a fear had come from.
“Wait until you see what else Lord Mathers can do,” Jones said in a knowing fashion. “If you’ll follow me, I think it high time you met him.” He turned and we followed him. Silence reigned, save for our footfalls, making the passage feel more like a crypt. We soon came to a large room with a low ceiling. A staircase spiraled into the depths. Elaine and I both leaned over the banister, but shadow hid the bottom.
“Mr. Mathers built all this?” I asked, skeptical.
“Lord Mathers often accomplishes what others consider impossible,” Jones said as we descended.
The stair drilled down under the city for some way, and it took several minutes to reach the bottom. Another corridor met us, this one far grander. Here, I found the opulence I expected. A scarlet carpet trimmed with gold along the edges led toward a massive set of doors. Marble columns lined our way, each carved with runes and mystical markings. In my Sight, none held any actual magic. Still, I felt like royalty as we walked, Jones’s torch making the gold shine.
Carved across the colossal doors was a peculiar creature with the body of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and the head of a man. A sphinx, the traditional embodiment of the practice of High Magic, incredibly detailed with accents of gold and silver. Its ruby eyes stared down at me as we approached, making me feel as if the beast were flesh instead of stone.
“Magnificent, no?” Mr. Jones said, gazing up at the door. “The first time I saw it, I knew the Order had the answers I sought. Ready?”
Elaine and I shared a look and together we nodded.
Jones turned, placed his hands upon the door, and pushed. Hinges creaked, and the sphinx split as the doors opened. Jones stepped back, leaned on his cane and said, “Welcome to the Isis-Urania Temple.”
10
The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn
Before us stood a gigantic circular chamber, its walls lined with torches that illuminated the temple’s majesty and revealed the horde of hooded figures gathered in the center. Each wore plain black robes with a silvered sash about the waist. Only one stood with his hood thrown back. He towered over those around him, his shock of auburn hair clearly visible. His gray mustache showed the man’s true age. He spoke to each of those gathered about him in turn, shaking hands and laughing or touching their arm and leaning close so that none might hear their words. He played the crowd like a master. As if sensing me, his stunning, icy blue eyes met my gaze. Those eyes drew me in and made me want to keep gazing forever. A natural born leader, this one. The kind men die for.
Samuel Mathers.
He turned his attention back to the group after a moment, and
