The Serpent Garden - Judith Merkle Riley Read Online Free PDF Page A

gravely, yes.
    “The thing, what is it? Not a goblet, surely, the upper bowl is too flat. And as for the burnishing, it will cast a strange reflection at the face of the drinker.”
    “Ah, Master Jonas, not the drinker, the seer. You are now one of our company, and worthy of our confidence. What you will cast is not a mere goblet, but the fabled Mirror of Diocletian, by which this mighty emperor was able to see revealed in its surface all plots and cabals against him, even though they be planned in the depths of the earth or the farthest reaches of the sea. The formula, until now, has been lost to the ages: gold and silver, mingled in exact proportion with certain parts of a black goat and the blood of a virgin.” Crouch’s eyes lit up, and he rolled these last words on his tongue. “It must be cast with certain—ah—enchantments. Happily, through my knowledge of antiquities, I have discovered the formula anew, concealed in a box of secrets and prophecies guarded by the most puissant demon Belphagor, whose guardian power I overcame with the most terrible commandments of the mighty Honorius. Now I have gathered these gentlemen into my enterprise; this is but the first of the wonders we shall create. We shall command the wealth of princes. We shall see across the world at a glance. We shall fly like eagles. Do you begin to comprehend now the meaning of our oath?”
    The somber men about the fire nodded, and Jonas was suddenly seized with terror. What was he, a tradesman, doing in the company of such great gentlemen? If he did this work, he would know too much. What would happen to him? Ah, God, even the beggar at the door knew he should not have entered. But then he thought of the fortune that might await him, his debts, and how with cleverness, he might extricate himself to his advantage….
    Invisible on the smoke-blackened rafters above the conspiratorial company, three figures, two barefoot infants with shining eyes and the pale, tousle-headed beggar in the luminous gown, were sitting and listening. Their iridescent wings were neatly folded, and they dangled their toes almost directly over Crouch’s head, peering down at the company the way boys who are fishing peer into a shadowy pool to see where the biggest fish is hiding.
    “Well, well. So Belphagor’s out at last,” said the beggar.
    “Aren’t you going to tell on him?” asked one of the children.
    “Who’s Belphagor? Pooh! A second-rate demon at best. I haven’t time to think about him just now. I’m planning to do that ungrateful goldsmith one last favor.”
    “What’s that?” cried the little creatures, their wings vibrating with excitement.
    “I’m going to put my finger on his balance when he weighs out the ingredients; then the mirror won’t work properly, and they’ll all blame one another, instead of killing him to preserve the secret, which he now understands is exactly their intention.”
    “Oh, clever, clever! What will the mirror show?”
    “Why, their own thoughts right back at themselves. Everything they already think, they’ll see and take it for a prophecy. Conceited braggarts. It will do them good,” pronounced the beggar with a sniff.
    “Then will you tell about Belphagor?”
    “We-ell, when I’m done. I think I’ll follow the old demon and see what he’s up to, first. I need to pay him back for a little trick he played on me back before the Templars stuffed him in that box, and I don’t want my fun spoiled. There’s time enough to go reporting things to the archangels later.” With that, all three of them rose through the ceiling. The men at the fire thought the gusts of air from their beating wings had come down through the chimney.

    “By God, Bridget, you grow more beautiful daily!” exclaimed Rowland Dallet, leaning back in his chair and setting his wine cup back among the laden dishes. Mistress Pickering had ordered a nice little supper of chicken cooked with saffron and opened a bottle of Spanish wine for