“An initiate well-versed in the occult, well-versed in mastering himself inside and outside, and mastering those around him as well.”
“And then, they come to you for what?”
“Their final training, if you will.”
“Pardon my French, but who the fuck are you?”
“It’s not French, Sam. And I have been many people, throughout time and space.”
“Anyone I would know?”
“I doubt it, Sam.”
“But you are an alchemist,” I said.
“I am that, and much more.”
“Lucky you,” I said. I drummed my fingers on the desk, thinking. “I’ve heard of Hermes. And Thoth. Actually, I’ve heard of the Book of Thoth. I couldn’t tell you what it is, or what’s in it, but I’ve heard of it, somewhere.”
“Many people have, although few understand it.”
“Oh, God, please tell me you didn’t write it. And if you did, can I get it on my Kindle?”
He smiled. “Hermes was my teacher, Sam. Hermes Trismegistus, to be exact. The Thrice Great.”
“Okay, now you’re just making up words.”
“Master Hermes would have smiled at your flippancy, and perhaps added a joke of his own. He had a great sense of humor.”
“Had? So, he’s dead now?”
“He’s moved on.”
“Of course,” I said. “No one dies anymore. So, who was he?”
“The father of alchemy, and my teacher.”
“You sound like you miss him.”
“Every day, Sam.”
“You knew him for a long time,” I said, sensing the depth of their relationship.
“Centuries.”
I think I hit upon a nerve, and he changed the subject. “You have brought something with you?”
“Would be more impressive,” I said, “if you couldn’t read my mind.” I slipped my hand inside my sweater pocket and removed the smooth, dense object. I placed it before him on the help desk. “This look familiar?”
“It does.”
“I took it from the corpse of a vampire.”
“Sounds like the beginning of a novel.”
“Or the end,” I said.
He motioned toward it. “May I?”
“Be my guest. You created the damn thing.”
He smiled and picked up the glittering relic, turned it over in his hand, and rubbed his thumb across the back. Did he just activate it? I wondered.
“A smudge,” he said, grinning.
He continued turning it and polishing it, almost affectionately.
“Yes, affectionately, Sam. It took many, many decades to perfect this very relic.”
“And yet, you let it collect dust in a curiosity museum for God knows how long—”
“Thirteen years. And I’m not God, although we are all aspects of God.”
I opened my mouth to speak, closed it again.
“I’m always aware of my creations, Sam. I am deeply connected to them, you see.”
“Actually, I don’t see, but I’ll take your word for it. I still don’t understand how you could let something so valuable out of your sight.”
“Never out of my inner sight, Sam.”
“Enough with the doublespeak, Max,” I said. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and there comes a time when every parent must release his children into the world. You will discover this soon enough.”
“I’d prefer to not think about it.”
He smiled. “You are equipping your children marvelously, Sam.”
“And you know this, how?”
“Your children are always at the forefront of your mind, Samantha. I do not have to plumb very deep to see what a remarkable job you are doing, under the circumstances. A mother’s love is a beautiful thing.”
“Let’s stop right there on a high note, before you start creeping me out.”
“Agreed,” he said. “Back to the medallion. It needed to find its way into the world—”
“Yes, yes, like children. I got that. But why?”
“Don’t you know, Sam?”
“Know what?”
“So that it could find you. On its own.”
I looked at him; he looked at me. Somewhere behind me, a student walked past the Occult Reading Room without missing a step. Let those with eyes see, and all that jibber-jabber.
“You could have just given it to me, you know,” I said. “And saved yourself a lot of time.”
“And what fun would that have been?” His eyes might have twinkled. “But that’s not the way it works, Sam. I did not know it was for you, for starters. Not until I met you. Not until you started gathering the other medallions.”
“Then you’re not surprised that I have this one, too?”
“No, Sam. I would have been surprised if your one-time friend Detective Hanner had figured out how to unlock it.”
“But she couldn’t?”
“No. But she tried valiantly.”
“I take it there’s more to it than just wearing it?”
“A tad more.”
I drummed my freakishly long nails on his help desk, a desk that looked like any other help desk at any other library. The room looked normal, too. Only the oversized, ancient-looking books that filled the nearby shelves looked anything but normal. They looked dark, felt dark and were dark. Some darker than others.
“Why me?” I asked suddenly. “Why am I the one finding all these medallions? Why do you help me? I’m just me, no one. Just a mom who got attacked a long time ago.”
As I spoke, I couldn’t help but notice the Librarian’s demeanor softening. He set the medallion down on the desk, near my drumming fingers. He inhaled and, for the first time ever, I saw the young man who wasn’t young express real emotions. And the emotion was heartbreak.
I looked at the medallion, and then, looked him in the eyes. No, I couldn’t read his mind, but I sensed there was something big going on here.
Sensed it from deep within me.
Sensed it from her, in fact. The demon within.
A cold shiver ran up and down my spine. “The demon inside me...” I began, but I was unable to find the words. Not with Archibald looking at me like that, with so much emotion that it was breaking my heart for reasons I didn’t know.
“She wasn’t always a demon,” he finished. “She was my mother once.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
Maximus let me have these moments to work out what I had just heard, except I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.