She had to turn away.
How long had he been standing there?
She returned her attention to the book. It rested on a pillow to protect its spine. Soft weights gently held open the pages. She had spent a half hour prepping the text, and this was after a five-day wait to obtain permission to take a photo of the rare book.
“It’snota waste of time,” she stated crisply, wishing her cheeks had not flushed so hotly. “And yes, the library staff did inform me that copies of the atlas had already been digitized by the Humanities Lab.”
“Then, Ms. Karr, why photograph them yourself?” Duncan’s hard accent struck each consonant with a haughty condescension. Even addressing her by her surname felt as if he were a schoolmaster disciplining a student.
“Not all of us take the easy path in the pursuit of scholarship.” She scowled back at him. “Why are you even here? The library’s about to close.”
Duncan held up a gray package, tied with archival tape. “I came to retrieve an order from the special collections desk. Something sent to me from the British Library. Then I saw you working in here...”
“So, you barged in.”
“Only to try to help.” He sighed and the hard edges to his voice softened. “I saw you were taking a photo of a volume that had already been digitized. I had hoped I could save you some needless labor.”
She swallowed and let her guard down—slightly. “I’m working on Dr. Plinth’s assignment, on the essay about the intersection of medieval science and magic.”
“Same here. In fact, it seems we’ve both targeted the same person of interest: the astronomer and alchemist, John Dee.”
She eyed Duncan. “How did you know I picked him for—”
He held up a hand. “People talk. Especially after too many pints at the Ram.”
She gave a sad shake of her head. The Ram was a student hangout, a bar operated by the university. Both Naomi and Tag had tried to lure her out there a few times, but the reek of spilled ale, the raucous laughter, and drunken barks were all too triggering for her.
The only time she had visited the Ram was for a quiz night with her study group. Unfortunately, they were bested by Duncan’s team, who lorded it over the pub that night. Later, clearly inebriated, he had tried to make up for it by buying a round of drinks for all the competitors. Tag had commented upon this largesse after his first sip:Oy, Guinness has never tasted so bitter.
Sharyn squinted at Duncan. “So, you’re also working on a paper concerning John Dee?”
She had already been fascinated by the sixteenth-century scholar and polymath. Not only did Dee serve as an advisor to Queen Elizabeth I, he was also the court astronomer and a skilled mathematician. But in addition, the man had a keen interest in alchemy, divination, and astrology. When it came to merging science and magic, there were few who matched his devotion.
She studied Duncan. “So what’syourangle for the assignment?”
He stepped closer. “I’m looking into the science of encryption and how codes were used both to mask and enhance the mysticism of occult knowledge. It’s said Dee possessed a copy of the Voynich Manuscript with its bizarre drawings and indecipherable language. While this fact remains in dispute, it is known that hedidpossess and was fixated on a copy of theBook of Soyga, a sixteenth-century Latin text on magic, of which large sections remain deeply encrypted. The British Library holds one of only two extant copies of that mystical book in its collection.”
Sharyn stared at the package in Duncan’s hands. “They loaned it to you?”
“To me? Never. But I was able to get photographs of a few significant pages and have them sent to me. Cryptography has always been an interest of mine. My undergrad degree at Oxford was in Cybersecurity and Information Assurance. My focus was on AI and digital encryption.”
She frowned in confusion. “With such a degree, why enroll in this program?”
He snorted, which came out with an edge of bitterness. “My father—who’s in banking—questioned the same. He certainly favored the practicality of my Oxford studies.” He shrugged heavily. “But after learning of my postgrad application, he threatened to disown me. And may still.”
Sharyn could relate, remembering the castigation from her mother. “Yet, you came here. Why?”
He glanced at a clock on the wall. “A long story. Too long for now. Like you said, the library is about to close.”
She grimaced, recognizing she had at best another fifteen minutes. She returned her attention to her camera and the open book. She made a final adjustment of the pages with her freshly scrubbed fingers. Unlike many institutions, the Old Library forbade gloves, which interfered with tactile dexterity and caused more damage than they prevented.
Oddly, Duncan did not leave her side and leaned in closer. “I’m puzzled,” he said softly. “How does Saxton’s atlas relate to your essay on John Dee?”
She glanced back, finding him standing far too close. At six foot two, he towered over her a bit. She swallowed before answering. “Later in life, Dee became the warden of Christ’s Church in Manchester. During his tenure, he commissioned Saxton to survey the city’s parish boundaries. No copies of that work exist, but this hand-painted atlas of Saxton’s includes the Manchester region.” She pointed to the splay of pages. “It’s why I wanted to photograph them myself, to use this as a stand-in for the lost work commissioned by Dee.”
“Ah. But still, how does this pertain to your thesis?”
She talked it out as she took her photos. “While Dee dabbled in the occult—even believing he could communicate with angels—he was devoutly Catholic. All of his esoteric work, some of which could be deemed demonic, always had a Catholic slant to it. My treatise is to look at the merging of art, astronomy, and religiosity in Dee’s work.”
