Chapter 47: The Sorcerer
Page 1 of 3
“Witchcraft… though it could just as easily be a trick.”
Cherry Chloe found a good vantage point and whispered to Roland, “…They say he possesses extraordinary powers. Roland, take a look for me.”
“My lady?”
“It’s not that I…” She pointed to her ear. “I keep hearing strange noises, and I can’t sleep properly. Perhaps this sorcerer might have some way to help…”
“You should seek assistance from the Church.”
Cherry shot him a look. “Haven’t I already sought help from you people?”
The sorcerer—for the moment, let us call him that.
By the time Cherry and Roland entered, he had already finished one performance.
“Ladies! Now for the main event—”
After surveying the eager women, the man selected a short lady and beckoned her forward.
“I never perform this marvelous feat in front of anyone else. Today will be the first time.”
He turned several times, explaining what he was about to do to those around him, then drew a pocket watch from inside his coat.
Its golden chain was looped around his index and middle fingers, the watch face dangling below.
“Come now, let me take a look at you…”
He did not touch the woman assisting him. Instead, he kept a full arm’s length away, suspending the pocket watch before her eyes.
He began to sway it gently…
Back and forth…
“The Father of All Things is watching you…”
“Slowly close your eyes…”
“Come with me…”
He murmured a string of disjointed words, his voice growing softer and softer.
As he swung the watch, he paced slowly around the woman with her eyes shut.
His voice was deep and magnetic. In the cramped room, even the sound of everyone’s breathing seemed to give way to it.
It made one drowsy.
[Oxygen deprivation, you idiot.]
—How clever of you.
[Of course.]
—Enjoy the show. It’s quite interesting.
—I’ve never seen a conjurer perform before.
“What do you see?” The sorcerer suddenly stopped and stood before the woman, asking in a soft voice.
“I see light…”
As though controlled by someone else, the woman spread her arms, lifted her head toward the ceiling, and murmured, “Brilliant light… a door…”
“That is the Father of All Things’ Eden, madam.”
The man coaxed her gently. “Go forward, graceful as you are. Go forward and softly push it open…”
The woman actually mimed pushing open a door.
Then, an odd flush spread across her face.
“Ah—”
Her entire body began to tremble, and her voice grew increasingly indecorous.
“That is the Father of All Things—”
“He kissed me…”
Snap!
The sorcerer snapped his fingers. Like the click of a gas-lamp knob, the crisp sound instantly roused the entranced woman. She opened her eyes wide and hugged herself.
Meaningful giggles rose from the women around them.
[The ladies’ private amusements are far more exciting than the gentlemen’s.]
Roland was speechless.
Page 1 of 3
“Come down, Gretel. Don’t get the carpet wet.”
“Thank goodness I wasn’t chosen. Goodness…”
“How marvelous, sir!”
The guests applauded with considerable restraint, and the man bowed elegantly.
“Do it again!”
“Again, sir! We haven’t had enough!”
“It’s going to be a long night!”
Their overlapping encouragement left the sorcerer at the center of the room looking troubled.
“Yes, do it again. You must let these young ladies and ladies of quality see enough. Otherwise, once they return home and begin preaching into their husbands’ or fathers’ ears…” As the hostess of the salon, Cherry’s words carried the greatest weight. “Let us enjoy it one more time.”
The sorcerer sighed, wound the watch chain around his fingers several times, and surveyed the room. His eyes settled on Cherry. He extended a hand in invitation.
“…Madam Chloe.”
The women began laughing and cheering.
Several ladies who knew Cherry well even gave her gentle pushes between the shoulder blades.
Cherry sighed helplessly, turned to glare at her friends, then yielded to the sorcerer. “All right. But don’t humiliate me in front of everyone, or I won’t forgive you.”
The man smiled and nodded.
Cherry told Roland to remain where he was, then swept forward with her skirts.
The procedure was the same as before.
She merely had to take her place, then gaze at the pocket watch…
And slowly close her eyes.
At that moment, Roland sensed that something was wrong.
His Spirit Sight allowed him to perceive the “dream” seeping into reality, as well as the mystery gradually revealing itself.
Within his vision, pale red mingled with ring after ring of white waves.
That was the ritualist’s doing.
Someone was wantonly scattering their own “Mystery,” allowing it to spread throughout the room and gradually form—
The very thing Fernandes and Enid had taught him:
The “Field.”
Before anyone noticed, the colors in the room began to fade. Everything in sight—every piece of decoration—lost its color.
A dream.
A ritualist.
A crimson tide.
Roland stood stunned for a moment. No matter how many times he sensed it, he reached the same unfortunate conclusion: the sorcerer’s “Mystery” and “Field” gave him a sense of déjà vu.
Yes. Absolutely. Without a doubt.
He had seen it before. He was familiar with the “color” of this power.
Roland sniffed hard. Beneath the heavy perfume lingered an unmistakable stench of decay.
This place would soon become a labyrinth from which no ordinary person could escape.
“The Father of All Things is watching you…”
“Slowly close your eyes…”
“Come with me…”
Roland touched the inside pocket of his coat, then swept his gaze across the entire room.
He moved quietly until he reached the solitary young girl. No one was willing to stand beside Beatrice Taylor.
“Miss Taylor.”
The golden-haired girl with violet-blue eyes had a large mouthful of juice in her cheeks. When she realized Roland was speaking to her, she hurriedly swallowed and began coughing.
“Cough, cough… Pretty—”
“Shh.” Roland raised an index finger to his lips. “Do me a favor, Miss Taylor.”
“Oh.”
“Could you go outside and bring me a glass of grape juice?”
Page 2 of 3
Beatrice looked up at Roland, then down at the glass in her hands; then at the glass, then back at Roland.
Reluctantly, she pushed the juice toward the young man.
Roland: …
[How could her hair be golden?]
[Blue! It has to be blue!]
Roland had no idea what it was talking about. Miss Nina probably had not had time to tell him many stories.
[Your hair ought to be blue too, Roland.]
—That sounds like a nasty thing to say, Wrench.
“I want apple juice. Could you help me?” Roland smiled and pushed the glass back toward her. “I’m friends with your brother, so that makes us friends too.”
Beatrice tilted her head. Her deep violet-blue eyes were calm and profound.
“I will rain in the street.”
Roland smiled. “I like rainy days.”
“Oh.”
She seemed considerably happier. Hugging the glass, she stumbled toward the door.
[You like rainy days, Roland? I had no idea you had such a peculiar taste. Do you prefer heavy rain or a gentler drizzle?]
—You’re disgusting.
[You started it.]
—I’m trying to save someone.
[Then why don’t you save these women? There are so many innocent people around you.]
Roland gradually let his smile fade and calmly surveyed the room.
He did not answer.
He passed between the women, slowly drawing closer to the stage ahead.
By then, the “performance” had reached its most critical moment.
“You see a door… don’t you?”
The sorcerer was still using the same script.
Cherry drifted like a jellyfish floating in the sea, her arms wandering aimlessly through the air.
Her expression, however, looked deeply pained.
“A door… It’s a door…”
This was where everything changed.
The man’s voice turned vicious.
“You hear it… You hear something scratching behind the door…”
“It scratches with its claws…”
“It rakes at it with its fingernails…”
“Scritch, scritch… scrape, scrape…”
“Your ears are being pierced…”
“It is coated in mud and blood… driving straight into your brain…”
Cherry clapped her hands over her ears and crouched on the floor in agony, a scream rising from her throat.
At that very moment, a cane fell to the ground.
Clang.
Its heavy handle struck the corner of a table, then rolled and rumbled to a stop beside the man’s feet.
Roland bent over and hurried forward, apologizing all the way.
“I’m terribly sorry…”
“My cane…”
Page 3 of 3