The seal of the Knight Mages of the Crown.
I broke the seal and pulled the parchment free.
I squinted at the script but couldn’t make it out in the gloom. Leaving the sitting room behind, I headed back down the hall to my study where the movers still worked to bring in my books. The sun trickled through the window behind me as I sat at my desk and brought the letter into the light.
Aleister.
I made contact with a man named George Cecil Jones of the Golden Dawn. He’s been tasked with finding a new initiate. I strongly suggested you as a supreme candidate, and Jones agreed.
Once you receive a letter of invitation, follow his directions, and he’ll bring you before the Order. All of my intelligence leads me to believe finding Mathers will prove no issue once you are admitted into the membership.
I’ll remain in London for some time, though the Archmage requires my services elsewhere. If you need assistance, send for me.
Best wishes and good luck,
Julian Baker.
I folded the letter, placed it back in its envelope, and deposited it in a side drawer of my desk. Well, that solved my issue with gaining entrance to the mysterious Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. The letter bothered me though. I’d never known Julian to be so curt. I still couldn’t shake the feeling there was something larger at work here.
Aleister! Vex exclaimed, making me jump
What?
The little fellow you gave your gloves to just stole your vial of powdered ruby.
I glanced toward the man in question, and sure enough, he hunched over my stock, his hand in his jacket, and my vial of powdered ruby missing. My heart sank.
“You there, in the gray jacket.”
The man halted, his hand whipping out of his pocket. “Yes sir?” He turned, his tone casual.
“Do you have children?”
The man blinked, confused. “No, sir.”
“Do you hope to someday?” I asked, my tone jovial.
The man smiled, thinking himself in the clear. “Yes sir, I do. As soon as I meet the right lady.”
“Well, if the thought of every single one of your children being born a leper displeases you, return my vial.”
The man recoiled. The others stared daggers at him, and he glanced around, a plea in his eyes. None came to his aid. He bowed his head, took the vial from his coat, and returned it to its slot. Then, he stripped off the gloves I gave him and held them out to me.
I shook my head. “I don’t take back gifts. Even from thieves.”
Tears gathered in the man’s eyes, but he restrained them. He nodded once, turned and hurried from the room. The others gawked at me. I ignored them and turned to gaze out the window at the filth of London.
The divine help me, I hated this city.
After several hours trying to direct the help, a feat akin to herding snakes, I played the part of Saint Patrick and banished them. I spent another day hefting and sweating to put everything in its proper place. On the second night, while enjoying a moment putting pen to paper in my study, the alarm wards on my door sounded. The alert pounded between my eyes as a rhythmic headache. An effective annoyance intended to wake me from even the deepest sleep. With a sweep of my will, I ended the spell and stood, my shadow dancing across the bookshelves in the flickering candlelight.
Midnight passed some time ago, Aleister, Vex thought at me. Take the proper precautions.
Yes, yes.
With a thought, I kindled a soft blue flame in my palm. Soul-fire. Deadly if wielded correctly, though most used it for a light source. I slid into the hallway, feet silent, hand raised in preparation, ears straining to hear movement or fiddling with the lock. Nothing. As I approached the door, the mail slot flipped up and a letter dropped to the floor.
Hurrying to the little window next to the door, I pushed the curtains back to see the faint outline of a woman retreating through the snow.
Curious.
I let the curtains fall back into place and with a flick of will, the letter leapt from the floor to my hand.
Must you use magic for everything? Vex asked, his presence in my mind heavy with displeasure.
Oh, shut it, you. ‘Do as thou will shall be the whole of the law,’ remember? The pressure on my mind lessened. Allow me my pleasures!
I have allowed you more than your fair share of pleasure recently, Vex said.
I smiled at his scolding. Admittedly I had had some distraction while setting up house. Three, for exactness sake. Named Celia, Ann, and James. Well worth the money, too.
You reach for magic the way a drunk reaches for the bottle. It does not solve everything. Did the centaurs not teach you that lesson?
Heat rose in my face, and I took a breath to calm myself. I will never forget.
Then restrain yourself. The Synod places no trust in you because you act without thought. You wield great power, but you must show you also possess the brains to back your brawn.
A torrent of excuses and defenses rushed to mind, but I kept them to myself. I deserved this chastisement. I turned and took the envelope back to my study. Letting the soul-fire wink out, I opened a drawer and rummaged for my letter opener. Vex’s satisfaction suffused my mind as I slit open the envelope. It contained a short message, written with tight, neat lettering. It stood in stark contrast to Julian’s flowing, sweeping script. I pegged Mr. Jones for a rather pent-up person.
Mr. Crowley.
We of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn watch you closely, and you impress us. If you wish to unravel the great mysteries of this world, we extend a hand to you in welcome.
Where five crows fly, six will die.
And their death births the beast
Who shall this world devour.
Void shall be all, at Twilight’s fall
And there we two shall meet.
We eagerly await your arrival
G.C.J
Gobbledygook.
“Mystical orders” proclaimed that they
