Part 46 (2/2)
The top of the box sprang open with a click. So surprised was she that she fumbled the box and something small fell out, striking the parlor floor with a loud noise. Mr. Rafferdy bent forward and retrieved it.
”It's just a ball,” he said. ”A metal ball.”
He held it out to her. It was, as he said, a small sphere forged of some metal. It was reddish in color, as if rusty, but smooth to the touch. The ball was cold in her hand.
He stood. ”I'm sorry, Mrs. Quent, but I don't see how that's going to be any help. Perhaps you were mistaken about the box?”
Ivy turned the orb over and saw there was a small hole in it. She thought of her father in his cell at Madstone's, how he had sometimes paused in his pacing to make twisting motions with his hands. No, she had not been wrong about the box.
”Come with me,” she said, and without further explanation she hurried from the parlor and up the stairs. It took him a moment to react, so that by the time he came into the attic she had already reached the corner where the celestial globe stood.
”What is this thing?” he said as he drew closer.
”It's my father's. It shows the mechanics and motions of the heavens.” She examined it, searching, looking for something she had never seen before but that she was certain was there. It had to be. ”The larger, hollow orbs represent the celestial spheres.”
He touched one of the b.a.l.l.s suspended on the end of a metal arm. ”And I suppose these are the eleven planets.”
”No, not eleven,” she said, gripping the metal orb in her hand.
And there it was. It was on the rear side of the globe, close into the center, and very small-a round nubbin of metal. It was no wonder, given the profusion of gears and levers and arms, that she had never seen it before. She took the reddish metal ball and lined up the hole with the post. Then she pushed it into place.
There was a metallic sound. The ball pushed back against her hand, as if somewhere deep within the globe a spring had been released. She let go of it, and the post extended outward from the globe, telescoping into a thin metal arm with the reddish orb at its end.
Mr. Rafferdy raised an eyebrow. ”Well, that did something, all right. But what is it?”
”It's the twelfth planet,” Ivy said. ”The red wanderer that appeared in the sky a few months ago. It's been gone for millennia, since before recorded history began, but now it's come back.”
So, you have returned at last from your wanderings, her father had said that night when she first saw the red spark in the sky. Somehow he had known about the planet and had incorporated it into the globe. She put her hands on the k.n.o.bs and levers and began to work them.
”What are you doing?”
Ivy watched the spheres and arms as they spun and turned. It was all different now. Something must have been altered in the interior workings of the globe. The planets moved in patterns she had never seen before. The two smallest planets, Vaelus and Cyrenth, swung toward each other-then pa.s.sed by without touching. She kept working the dials and levers.
”When twelve who wander stand as one,” she murmured.
”What's that?”
She shook her head. ”It's a riddle. Something my father left for me.”
He walked around the globe. ”I see. They're lining up, aren't they?”
He was right. At first the planets had been scattered in all directions around the globe. However, each time the spheres made a full revolution, they drew nearer and nearer one another. Now they were all on the same side of the globe, now gathered in the same quadrant, now forming a ragged line. She kept turning the k.n.o.bs, even though her hands had started to ache, simulating the pa.s.sage of dozens, of hundreds of years.
This time it was not a click but a tone like the chiming of a bell. Ivy pried her stiff fingers from the dials. On the far side of the globe, all twelve of the b.a.l.l.s-the planets-stood in a perfect line.
”It's a grand conjunction,” she said, filled with wonder. ”But that's impossible. The planets never all line up.” Or at least they never had in the memory of mankind.
He walked again around the globe. ”Look here!” he said.
Ivy followed him, looking where he pointed. A small opening had appeared in the centermost sphere. It was too dark too see what it was, but something glinted within.
”Go on,” he said. ”You're the one who solved the riddle.”
Ivy leaned forward, slipping her fingers into the opening. She came away with something small. She opened her hand, and as when Mr. Rafferdy had worked magick, a s.h.i.+ver pa.s.sed through her.
”The key will be revealed in turn,” she said softly. She turned the iron key over in her fingers. It was cool and heavy.
”I think there's something else in there.” Mr. Rafferdy leaned in and plucked something out of the niche in the globe. It was a piece of paper, folded several times into a neat square.
”Please, you open it,” she said, for her hands were shaking.
”It's a letter,” he said. ”Addressed to you.”
”Would you read it for me?” Her hand was a fist around the key.
”Are you certain?”
She nodded. Mr. Rafferdy took the letter to the window where the light was stronger.
”My Dearest Ivy,” he began, ”if you are reading this, it means something has gone awry, and I have been forced to do something I hoped I would not have to do. I cannot say I am entirely surprised; that things might take a bad turn is precisely why I have made these preparations. Since you are reading this, it seems my riddles were not beyond you. Not that I thought they would be; I know you are an exceedingly clever girl. Or young lady, I suppose by now. How I wish I could see how you have grown!
”But there is no time to wonder about that. The hour grows late, and I have only a little time left to write this and to conceal the key. That they will come searching for it, I have no doubt. The binding is strong and will endure for a long while. However, in time, others will attempt to undo our work and open the way-and I fear those who do so will be members of my own circle, the Vigilant Order of the Silver Eye.”
Ivy could not suppress a gasp. The man in the black mask had told her of the order, but that her father had been a member of it was something she had not considered.
Mr. Rafferdy looked up from the letter. ”Are you well?”
”Yes, I'm fine. Please, go on.”
He returned his gaze to the letter. ”I have discovered that there are deceivers within the order. They will seek to open the door, thinking they can use what would come through for their own ends. They are wrong. To break the binding would open the way for something unspeakable. That I have time on my side is my one comfort, for the enchantment is one of great power, and it will take many years for them to undo the work we have done.
”Yet they will not stop trying. Eventually, they will attempt to open the door. This must not be allowed. I wish I could have told all of this to you directly, but you are too young as I write this, and since I do not know who within the order I can trust, I must resort to these little puzzles, which I am confident only you will be able to solve. It is only you I can trust, my dearest Ivy. That is why I gave you the book of myths and my magick cabinet.”
Ivy's heart ached. ”But he was never able to give me the book. I only found it recently because of the carelessness of one of our maids. And I never received the magick cabinet. My mother must have banished it from the house; she loathed such things. She must have given it to Mr. Quent.”
Mr. Rafferdy met her gaze. ”But what is this door he speaks of? Does that key go to it?”
”Finish the letter,” Ivy said. ”Then I will tell you what I know.”
He read on. ”Clever as you are, my dearest, you will not be able to protect the doorway on your own. There are enchantments in the house, defenses that can be renewed. However, you must find another who can help you-a magician. Who that will be, I do not know. I can tell you only not to trust any of the members of my order. That most are good and conscientious men I believe, but I cannot know who among them is false. You will have to use your own judgment.
”I recommend only that he be a magician of considerable skill. It will not be easy, and you will have little time. Once you enter the house, they will be alerted-they will sense that the seal has at last been broken, and they will come. You will find the door in the chamber behind my study. It is there that the magician must work the enchantment. I have set out the words of the spell on the reverse of this page. That the magician succeed in this task is of the greatest imperative. All of Altania depends upon it.
”I wish I had time to tell you more. I do not! I will say only that if he should come to you, listen to him. I will not give his name, for I do not know it myself, though I have spoken to him many times over the years. Nor have I seen his face behind the dark mask he wears, but I trust him more than I trust myself. If he should ever speak to you, heed him.
”My time is gone. I must go. Give my affection to your mother and sisters, and know that no matter what happens you have, and shall always have, my love.” Rafferdy turned over the letter. ”There is something written in the language of magick here, as he said.”
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