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Thomas spoke softly under his breath, “I guessed it when I entered the house.”
Edward’s voice cut through the silence, “And you?”
“I—I also,” Thomas confessed.
The air grew heavy with anticipation as they stood in the dimly lit room. Edward gestured for Thomas to follow him quietly. They descended the creaking stairs into the workroom, where the lantern cast eerie shadows across the walls.
Edward settled into a chair under the open window, his disheveled appearance matching the chaotic atmosphere. “Tell me about yourself,” he urged.
Thomas leaned against the wall, feeling a surge of nervous energy. “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. “I can do very little.”
Resting his chin in his hand, Edward’s eyes gleamed with hidden knowledge. “I have had no chance to learn,” he confessed in a hushed tone. “But what one might do—!”
“I came upon old writings,” Thomas explained slowly. “I thought one might be great—that way, so I fled from Nola.”
Edward stood up abruptly. “I will work a spell tonight. You shall see.”
Grabbing the lantern, Edward led Thomas to another chamber. There, he revealed a trapdoor in the floor. Thomas hesitated, fear flickering in his eyes. “Have you done this before?” he asked apprehensively.
“This spell? No,” Edward admitted, his excitement palpable.
Descending into the darkness, Thomas muttered, “God will never forgive.”
“Are you afraid?” Edward’s voice echoed in the vault.
Thomas clenched his jaw. “No. No.”
They entered a large vault, the air thick and suffocating. Edward set the lantern on a nail, illuminating the space. “I have been studying how to raise spirits and see into the future,” he whispered. “Have you the courage?”
“Yes,” Thomas replied hoarsely. “For what else have I left my home if not for this?”
Their eyes met, reflecting a mix of fear and determination. Edward drew circles and strange symbols on the floor with white chalk, while Thomas watched intently.
As Edward opened a book, Thomas leaned over his shoulder to read. “I have tried it. It has never succeeded,” Edward admitted.
“To-night it may,” he whispered with a hint of desperation.
Edward shook the ashes out of the brazier and kindled charcoal, casting an eerie glow in the dim vault. “The future—we must know the future,” he muttered.
“They will not come,” Thomas said, wiping his damp forehead. “I heard them once—but they never came.”
“Did you tempt them enough?” Edward’s voice quivered. “If you have Mandrake they will do anything.”
“I had none,” Thomas admitted.
“Nor I—still, one can force them against their will—though it is—terrible,” Edward acknowledged.
The thin smoke from the charcoal enveloped them, making their heads throb and their breathing shallow. Edward stepped into the chalk circles, clutching the book tightly.
In a slow, unsteady voice, he began the blasphemous invocation. Thomas trembled, biting his tongue to stifle the urge to pray.
But as Edward continued, his confidence grew. His voice rose, filled with authority, and his eyes blazed with fervor. The charcoal glowed red, casting sinister shadows in the cramped vault.
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Finally, Edward stopped. “Put out the lantern,” he commanded.
Thomas complied, plunging the chamber into eerie darkness save for the glowing charcoal. Edward spoke again, this time in a strange, heavy tongue, invoking powers beyond mortal comprehension.
Faint noises echoed from the darkness—howls, sobs, and eerie moans. “They come,” Thomas whispered, his voice filled with dread.
Edward repeated the invocation, the air crackling with tension. A grotesque figure crawled into the dim light of the brazier—a creature resembling a dog, yet with the shape of a man, its mottled black skin sending chills down their spines.
Thomas gasped and recoiled, pressing himself against the cold stone wall. Edward, however, confronted the creature with defiance.
“So you have come. Show us the future. I have power over you,” Edward declared, his voice tinged with madness.
The flames flickered, casting a surreal glow as the mirror revealed fleeting images—a woman with a crown and yellow hair, then another figure with a blurred tiara.
“More,” Edward demanded, consumed by passion. “Show us more—”
The mirror brightened, unveiling a cloudy sky and the silhouette of a gallows tree against it.
Thomas, trembling but curious, stepped forward, drawn by the haunting visions of what was to come.
“Ah, God!” Thomas shrieked, crossing himself as the mirror cracked and shattered with a sharp sound. A chorus of terror-filled howls erupted, and dark shapes leapt into the air, vanishing into the abyss.
Edward staggered, clutching Thomas. “You’ve broken the spell!” he gibbered in disbelief. “You’ve broken the spell!”
An icy silence descended, extinguishing the flickering brazier until even the coals turned black. They stood in darkness, the air heavy with the aftermath of dark forces.
“They’ve gone!” Thomas whispered, breaking free from Edward’s grasp and finding his way to the ladder by a faint glimmer of light above. He climbed out through the trapdoor, his breaths ragged with exertion.
Edward, agile and quick, followed and closed the flap. “The charm wasn’t strong enough,” he hissed through clenched teeth, fixing Thomas with a glare.
Thomas defended himself, “I couldn’t help it—I saw them.” He collapsed into a chair by the open window, his head in his hands.
The room was bathed in soft starlight, a stark contrast to the recent darkness. Outside, vines rustled in the night wind, tapping against the lattice.
Edward returned with a candle and a glass of wine. He illuminated Thomas’s anguished face, offering him the drink. Thomas accepted silently, the color returning to his cheeks as he drank.
Edward set the glass down and leaned closer. “What did you see—in the mirror?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas replied, his voice wild. “A woman’s face—”
“Yes,” Edward interrupted. “And what did she mean to us? And a figure resembling the Pope?”
Thomas nodded. “But what business do they have with sacred things? And then I saw—” He hesitated, his voice hollow.
Edward turned sharply. “No—there was nothing more after that!”
“There was,” Thomas insisted. “A stormy sky and a gallows tree—” His words echoed eerily.
Edward paced into the shadows. “Those deceitful imps!” he spat. “They tricked us!”
Thomas stood, facing Edward. “Will you continue with these studies?” he asked cautiously.
Edward glanced back. “Do you intend to turn away?”
“No, no,” Thomas assured him. “But we must tread carefully, keeping knowledge this side of blasphemy and darkness.”
Edward laughed bitterly, the candlelight casting eerie shadows across his face.
“I have no fear of God!” Edward declared in a thick voice. “But you—you are afraid of Satan. Well, go your way. Each man to his master. Mine will grant me many things—make sure yours does the same for you—”
As he opened the door to leave, Thomas rushed after him and grabbed his robe. “Listen to me. I am not afraid. Why else would I leave Nola?”
Edward looked up at Thomas with resolute eyes, his proud mouth curling slightly. “I cannot ignore the fate that brought me here,” continued Thomas. “Will you come with me? I can be loyal.”
Thomas’s words were earnest, his face eager, but Edward remained silent.
“I have despised men, not cherished them, all my life—yet I am strangely drawn to you—” “Oh!” Edward exclaimed with a quivering laugh.
“Together, we could achieve much, and it’s dangerous to study alone.”
Extending his hand, the younger man proposed, “If I join you, will you swear a pact of friendship?”
“We will be like brothers,” Thomas affirmed solemnly. “Sharing joys and sorrows.”
“Keeping our secrets?” whispered Edward. “Letting no one come between us?”
“Agreed.”
“You understand me,” said Edward. “So be it. I’ll accompany you to Basle.”
He lifted his unique face; determination and strength emanated from his hollowed eyes and colorless lips, commanding Thomas’s attention.
“We could rise to greatness,” Edward proclaimed.
Thomas grasped his hand as the candle’s red light faded into a dim gray, yielding to the approaching dawn. “Can you sleep?” he inquired.
Edward withdrew his hand. “At least I can pretend. Balthasar must not suspect. Go to bed—remember tonight and our oath.”
With a silent step, Edward left, his departing footfalls barely audible.
Thomas stood, feeling marked and tainted by blasphemy yet strangely elated. He tiptoed to his chamber, each creak of the floorboards and shifting shadow causing guilt to tingle in his blood. Bolting the door, he flung himself onto his disheveled bed, holding his fingers to his lips, and gazing with strained eyes at the window. There he lay through the hours of sunrise, half-swooning in a troubled sleep.