Marie involuntarily jumped with a muffled squeak before she realized who she’d run into. It was Hänschen, who looked almost equally surprised. “Oh...funny I should see you here,” he remarked in a forcedly-offhand tone. “It’s good to see you’re alive, by the way, haha.” He laughed a little, clearly embarrassed.
She nodded solemnly, which belied the relief she’d actually felt upon realizing it was him. “Yeah, I’m alive...I’m definitely feeling better than yesterday.” She edged past him into the room, turning up the flame in the barely-burning oil lamp just enough to read by. “I’m sorry I left in such a hurry...I had a lot on my mind. And I had a lot to do.”
He grinned, his lips pressed together. “Where’d you go? If you don’t mind my asking,” he said in a rush. “I waited at the station for a little while...I was kind of hoping you’d come back, but then I took the U-Bahn to Regen...you didn’t come looking for me, did you?” There was despair in his voice at having asked such an awkward question, but hope in its answer all at the same time.
“No, sorry...I was busy until about five o’ clock.” She prayed he didn’t question why she’d avoided answering to her whereabouts. Instead, he shrugged. “No harm done, I didn’t mind waiting. As it is, I think I’ll get going...you’ve probably got studying to do, right?” He smiled at her, a little sadly. “Actually, Hanschen...do you know where I might find that book you had on the train yesterday?”
He looked momentarily confused, like he’d never expect anyone to ask. “It’s on the shelf...” he turned and ran his thumb over the second row of large volumes, settling on the thick, familiar-looking book. It was bound in a leather so dark brown it was nearly black, the gold leaf long since having worn off of the cover. He handed it to her, and she gently pried the front open with a puff of dust; several blank pages, parchment! of all things stood between her and the title page, which bore in yellowing ink the words “Kodex der Alchemisten”. Beneath, the digits 1256 were ascribed, and a small illegible inscription ending in a comma and J.G. Faust, 1503. Marie almost forgot to look up from the book. “Thank you.” She smiled, stretching out her arm to the solitary desk, depositing the book heavily upon it. He returned the smile, moving past her onto the stairs, and then continued downwards, pausing only at the library door to glance up at her again.
She sighed, pulling the chair away from the simple table, spinning the book around to face her. The Codex of the Alchemists? She wasn’t particularly one to know medieval folklore and the so-called magic people had tried to practice in the dark ages, but she was certainly intrigued – particularly because of the name she’d found written in the book, the actual age of the volume notwithstanding. Her heart skipped a beat, and for a brief moment she felt strange...how odd it was, that this book might have been in the possession of Johann Georg Faust, whose servant had shared her surname, and with whom she had shared the experience of speaking to – no! She cut the thought off before it could continue. The book was just that, a book, and her delusions of grandeur were nothing more...events like this didn’t even happen in literature, she told herself.
Marie bit her lip slightly as she examined the page once more, nothing the ink; it had been liberally applied on the parchment, which looked far more brittle than she knew it to be. The date was indeed 1256 A.D., and she smiled to herself at the thought that such an ancient text was in her school’s library, and not some fine German museum. That it should also be in her hands was similarly exhilarating, though she wasn’t certain why beyond her curiosity of times past. The next page was clearly a table of contents, a column of numbers on the right divided from the Fraktur lettering by a series of carefully-inked diamonds, the points on the tallest numerals like daggers. “Am Anfang war Finsternis”, “Leben vom Tod”, “Ring der rechten Hand des Gottes” were some of what she assumed to be chapters – “In the Beginning there was Darkness”, “Life from Death”, and “The Ring of the Right Hand of God” were there written in the German she knew, though some of the others were in an archaic form she didn’t quite understand.
She flipped forward a few pages, not really reading the thick, impacted black handwriting but more absorbing the feel of the book. How had such a unique and potentially historical book escaped her in all her time spent in the library? Marie took a section of the book between her thumb and forefinger, fanning the leaves left until something caught her eye.
It was the diagram she’d seen on the train, though this particular page did not have the names Samael and Lilith inscribed below. It was a simple circle, within which was another resting tangent, and so on to make five circles, at the center of which was a pentagram. The design was unfamiliar to her, and its caption bore the words “1.ß. Kreis des Alchemisten”. She looked at the page to the right, finding the reference in parenthesis deep within a paragraph, and started trying to struggle her way through the old German.
“The Alchemist’s Ring is the mathematical arrangement of the elements in the...” the next few words completely escaped her, and she skipped ahead until she reached the next readable part. “These elements are the five fundamentals – fire, water, earth, air, and Soul, the latter of which is that to unlock –“
Without warning, everything flickered again – with a gasp, her head snapped back in sudden pain, stars twinkling before her, ears ringing. The palms of her hands flew to her temples as she tried hard not to cry out, every nerve in her body seeming to fire all at once, her feet pressing firmly against the floor in resistance to the sudden overload.
And then as suddenly as it had happened, it was gone. Her vision, her hearing, sensation was returned, leaving only a feeling of...of something foreboding. Marie cautiously turned her head, irrationally afraid someone was behind her, but there was no-one there. The library was completely silent but for the ticking of a distant clock and the crackle of the fireplace in the foyer...she realized she was sobbing slightly, try as she might to stifle it. Marie closed the book forcefully, with another explosion of dust and a small thunderclap; she lifted it from the table, and moved to put it back on the shelf, but couldn’t. She tucked it under her right arm, shifting the strap of her bag over her left, and moved swiftly from the library and church as though a thief in the night.
***
Marie trotted across the early-afternoon campus, wondering where the time had gone; the heavy volume weighed her down, and she kept having to pause and reset her fingers upon its cover to prevent a probably-fatal drop to the wet and icy sidewalk. She was actually trying to force herself to think of how hungry she was, since it was a physical sensation that would supercede what she’d experienced; and there would be plenty of other students in the dining hall at this hour to keep her distracted.
She entered the student centre just as the bell for 1 o’ clock struck, turning the corner to the right and up the stairs to the dining area. About a hundred other students were in various positions about the room, some seated, some standing, some walking around casually and chatting – she saw Hänschen wave casually at her from a corner, where a pack of music students gesticulated furiously to each other, and returned the gesture before setting down her things at a table near the doors. She waited in line only a few minutes, obtaining two sausages of questionable contents, steamed apples, and some sauerkraut, one of the few items served on a regular basis whose ingredients couldn’t possibly be a mystery.
Trouble unfortunately awaited her at her table; three rather insidious looking male students hovered over her things, the largest of them holding the book unceremoniously by the top of its cover, indicating with left finger various what she presumed were archaic German words they didn’t understand, and were proceeding to mock and make fun of. She wearily walked towards them, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
“Oy, look, here comes four-eyes!” one of the lackeys observed to his companions, the three of them laughing furiously at the remark. “Nineteen years old, and nothing to show for it,” another said, running two hands parallel downwards, probably caricaturing her apparently-substandard curves. She reached them, setting her tray down outside of their reach, and placed her right fist on her hip, left hand held out expectantly though she knew they would be none so kind.
“What, is this so important to you?” The leader grinned at her, his teeth a horrible mix of yellowing and missing. “If you want it so bad, here, you can have it.” He raised the heavy book in his right hand just out of her jumping range, though clearly it was a strain on his arm muscles that were betrayed by a faint shaking.
“I don’t have to put up with this, and I’m not going to play your stupid little game.” Marie felt annoyance sliding into her tone, and felt anger rising in her throat. “Give it here.” She resisted the urge to return fire with insults, knowing it would probably lead to a physical confrontation she couldn’t win. She wasn’t sure, but there were two quick flashes in her peripheral vision...not now, she told herself. Not now...
The group laughed nastily at her, though the ringleader did lower the book, pulling it in close and opening it as though with intent of reading. She felt a rush of panic as the shortest one drew a simple cheap cigarette lighter from a jacket pocket, flipping it conspicuously from hand to hand. They all grinned at her, and she knew what was coming.
“Let’s see just how much this here book’s worth to you. It looks like kindling to me,” he added maliciously, flicking the flint wheel into sparking the flame. He waved it closer and closer to the tattered parchment, making some guttural exclamation like one does to a child when playing peekaboo. “C’mon, Marie, take it from us, haha.”
She didn’t react, knowing they most likely wouldn’t carry out their threat, and in part because she didn’t want to get involved in an outright confrontation while there was a risk of being overtaken by temporary insanity, to put it awkwardly. She blinked as another flash came, almost on-cue...she needed to get these three away, eat, and maybe go rest for a bit in her room until orchestra, and the sense that time was running out pressed harder.
Another flash came, closer to the last one than previously. “Give it back to me. Now.” There was a terrible edge in her voice now, one she hadn’t tried to impose, but it worked. It struck fear into the offenders’ eyes, and the one holding the book closed it and tossed it heavily onto the table, rattling her tray. Her fists closed up as another flash threatened to overtake her, everything seeming to dim but the lighter that one held in his hand. Whether out of overconfidence or stupidity, he waved it in her face, flicking sparks at her as the flame caught. The three laughed at her as she pulled away from the flame.
“What’s wrong, are witches afraid of fire?” At that, Marie drew back a hand to swat the lighter away, but there was a sudden burst of light, followed by a ringing in her ears once more, and stars burst on the black that was her vision...she heard screaming, shouting in the distance, as she fell to her knees; slowly her senses returned, and she looked up through glasses askew to see the three boys huddled in the corner, the green lighter spouting flame through its cracked plastic shell and spinning furiously on the hardwood floor, leaving scorchmarks in a ring.
Marie stood slowly, realizing the entire cafeteria was silence...Hanschen stood, frozen and staring at her, several meters away, clearly on his way to assist her. Bit by bit, conversation resumed, though Marie felt no comfort in this...eyes continued to drift her way, and Hanschen came no closer, just looking at her as though she were...
She didn’t know what. She picked up her bag and the book, and ran, all else forgotten.
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