“If Saint-Germain believed the movement of the heavens and unseen forces was vital to revealing the mysteries of the world, then, knowing his fascination with Mesmer, it was not difficult to assume magnetism might be involved. In fact, I wager there must be iron fused into those gold-and-silver symbols.”
“Very astute, Ms. Karr. Clearly, your professor chose well in picking you to be the Thirteenth Keeper.”
Laurent opened the small leather box, which contained two dark sticks that had to be magnets. The container appeared lead-lined to keep its energies from affecting the case’s computer. He removed the rods and shifted the book closer.
“Even with such insight,” the Frenchman attested, “it took some effort to learn how to use the magnets as a key to this crystalline lock. Let me show you what was eventually determined.”
He positioned the end of each magnet to the top and bottom of the orb—its north and south poles. The orb shivered in its cradled socket, spun slightly, then aligned itself to the magnetic field.
Sharyn imagined that the constellations inside now mirrored their correct positions in the sky, matching some season or another.
They all leaned closer, but nothing happened.
“Did we break it?” Archie muttered.
“No. We must let time pass. Specifically, the turning of a year.”
With great care, Laurent slowly rotated the two dark rods, bringing north to south, then around again, rotating the orb one full turn.
“We believe this represents the journey outward and back again, of venturing forth to grow and returning to share what was learned.”
As he completed the circle, an audible click sounded as the energies of the magnet and the alchemy of the orb stirred something deeper inside the copper tin that cradled the crystal. Laurent lifted the tiny box with its orb, parting the two metal bands that had clasped the book closed.
He stared at their group. “Welcome to the true mysteries of Saint-Germain.”
32
11:04 a.m.
Duncan gathered with the others around the table. Laurent opened the cover and revealed yellowed pages, age-crinkled and slightly splotched in places, as if Saint-Germain’s incendiary chemical had pooled in spots.
The title page held a single line of introductory script, written in French with a bit of flourish. Despite having already shared these words, Laurent read them aloud again.
“C’est là que réside le secret de mon immortalité. Viens me trouver si tu l'oses.”
Sharyn whispered the translation. “Herein lies the secret to my immortality. Come find me, if you dare.”
Laurent turned several pages with great care. They showed dense lines of writing, inscribed in neat rows, demonstrating the precise work of a man of science. Even a casual perusal showed it contained a mix of many languages, mostly European, including Latin, but also sections of cursive Arabic.
Archie, ever the linguist, noted the same, pointing to one such section and raising a concern. “There are no diacritical marks in the Arabic, which normally represent the vowels in their written language. It’s like he’s making it a more challenging read, forcing you to fill in the blanks. It’s also written backward. Normally Arabic is written from right to left. This is running in the opposite direction.”
“Which was likely done—along with the jumble of languages—as a means of simple encryption,” Laurent explained. “We believe this opening quarter of the book was meant to be a minor challenge, requiring the reader to prove his fluency in many tongues, while adding obstacles, as you’ve noted.”
Sharyn pointed to another passage as he flipped through pages. “That’s mirror writing, where he’s reversed his cursive. I saw examples of the same in a seventeenth-century text back at the Old Library at Exeter.”
“Da Vinci used it, too, in his own journals,” Duncan noted.
“Again, another crude form of encryption. And perhaps a nod to Leonardo himself.”
As Laurent skipped ahead, Duncan noted the manuscript was also illuminated with beautiful sketches: of people, of animals, both real and fanciful. Sharyn forced Laurent to stop at several, so she could appreciate the vibrant colors and brilliant pigments.
Duncan remembered Sir Kelly’s account of the alchemist’s skill with drawing and painting, including his introduction of novel oils and dyes.
Naomi finally raised a question that had surely grown in all their minds. “If this opening section was so easy to decipher—nearly a quarter of the book from the looks of it—what does it say?”
Laurent leaned back and cracked his neck after hunching for so long. “All these neatly inscribed and illustrated pages tell the story of the man’s life, of his travels. Though, they still leave his origins cloaked. Very frustratingly so, I might add.”
“Whatdidyou learn?” Sharyn asked. “From those illuminated drawings, it appears he traveled to many corners of the globe. There was that African lion, captured in mid-leap. A sketch of Stonehenge. Another nearly architectural model of the Taj Mahal. And a painting of an Egyptian merchant ship.” She turned to Naomi for her expertise. “Right?”
