The Alchemists' Council, page 10
A few days later, Cedar crossed the threshold to the Inner Chamber and knelt on one of the smooth granite inlays. She lowered her head, in gesture to the Azoth Magen, who sat high on the alembic ladder, his back turned to the Elders. The Ritual of Restoration would soon begin. A full restoration — used to repair elemental damage throughout Council dimension — would take the better part of the day. Since Cedar could think of little other than her plans for the upcoming week, she was thankful that today’s ritual would be limited to chanting only the fifth portion of the text — the section concerned with protecting Lapidarian manuscripts. She needed to focus on the ritual, not on the Junior Initiates. Obeche’s acknowledgement of Cedar, made in the form of a brief nod from his position on another inlay across the room, was taken by Cedar as a patronizing sign. He still believed he was right, and he would ensure that the interim pendants for the Initiates would be swiftly revoked upon the restoration of the bees.
The Azoth Magen himself had called the Elder Council together for the ritual. His research and Azothian consultations with Ruis and Ravenea led him to conclude that invoking restoration could well be the Council’s best defence against the possibility of manuscript sabotage by the Rebel Branch. Certainly, another rebellion could not be allowed under any circumstances. Above all, the Earth itself could fail to recover from such an outright attack on elemental balance. He raised his arms, inviting the Elders to do the same, and within moments the blue light of transmutation filled the Inner Chamber. Pendants glowed against the surrounding blue — beacons identifying each of the Council members and the Azoth himself.
“We call on the Earth. We call on the Wind. We call on the Sea. We call on the Ember,” Azoth Ravenea began.
“From the Stone to the Scribe; from the Scribe to the Reader,” continued Azoth Ruis.
“We, the Elders of the Alchemists’ Council, hereby restore the balance,” commanded the Azoth Magen. His voice rang out against the growing resonance of the elements. He had written the invocation for this restoration in particular. He called out to the arboreal essence, to the vines on the ground and on the cliffs, to the flowers on the earth and in the mountains. He invoked the Lapidarian promise of Ruach 2103, folio 51 verso — the manuscript leaf from which Linden had first witnessed the bees disappearing. He called upon the apiarian memory from this and other manuscripts inscribed with Lapidarian ink. He intoned the ancient Council chants, to which Cedar and the others responded in sequence when called upon.
Over an hour had passed with chanting before the Azoth himself knelt at the base of the alembic ladder and began dissolution of the restoration formula. Obeche’s voice could be heard above the others. Thus commands the Alchemists’ Council. Thus commands the One over the Others. Cedar too spoke and sang and chanted the ritual elements to return the bees to the manuscripts. At the height of the ritual, her attention remained astutely set on the task — her focus sharp, her intention clear. She was indeed so intently focused that she failed at first to notice the alchemical blue light fading prematurely. Unlike Cedar, several of the Elders had already stopped chanting. Not until the Azoth Magen roared for silence did Cedar understand the gravity of the problem.
In this silence, as the blue light continued to fade, a red light began to grow. Obeche bellowed, “No!” But the light took only moments to change completely. The air dripped with crimson-red moisture. Amur struggled for breath. Ravenea raised an Azothian sceptre, shining its light across the room. Cedar stood and moved towards the alembic. Though the red haze itself remained in the room no longer than five minutes, the sudden and strident laughter that accompanied the vanishing haze echoed in Cedar’s mind for several hours after the ritual. She recognized the disembodied voice immediately, as did several of the others. But no one dared speak before the Azoth Magen. Even Obeche had adopted a posture of submission, awaiting instructions.
“The sanctuary has been breached!” cried the Azoth Magen. “The Rebel Branch mocks us with laughter to which we will respond with battle cries. Long live the Quintessence!”
“Long live the Alchemists’ Council!”
The Ritual of Restoration having failed, the Elders moved from the Inner Chamber to Azothian Chambers for instruction and consultation. Obeche and Amur worked with Azoth Ruis and Rowan Esche to determine whether the erasure itself had failed at the elemental level. Azoth Ravenea and Rowan Kai, along with Cedar and Tera, scanned dozens of manuscripts for signs of a Lapidarian breach or lacuna. Yet after hours of labour, well into the night, no one had located a single piece of evidence suggesting an imminent rebellion beyond a single voice. And the voice itself was an impossibility. It had been banished forever from Council dimension through official erasure; yet it had been heard within the Inner Chamber by the entire Elder Council.
“She kept her promise,” Obeche reminded the others at the first sign of dawn.
“She did indeed,” replied Cedar.
Thus they finally acknowledged aloud the name that had remained unspoken through the night.
“Kalina.”
iii
one year ago
Jaden arrived early to the Elixir Chamber of the Initiate classroom. She wanted a chance to choose her supplies and equipment before the others arrived so she would be ready to begin before Magistrate Sadira appeared. Despite her status as the newest Initiate, Jaden wanted to appear impressive in Sadira’s eyes. Not only was Sadira Jaden’s favourite tutor, but today was the day the Initiates would be reproducing with physical ingredients the alchemical formula that Linden and Tesu had been discussing over the previous four lessons. Finally her first day of laboratory work had arrived. Jaden was about to participate in an actual alchemical experiment. She would not have to listen to Linden droning on and reiterating what she could have read for herself in the textbook; instead she would measure and combine and stir and heat the requisite liquids and powders and minerals and metals to turn a pellet of lead into a nugget of gold. Yes, Jaden understood that such basic transmutation was the most stereotypical alchemical practice of all. Yes, she knew that Azoth Ailanthus — indeed, all the Elders — could transform any compound to gold with a mere touch of a Lapidarian pendant and the recitation of a few key words: no ingredients required. And, yes, Jaden knew that for most alchemists of the Alchemists’ Council, alchemical practice comprised official Council duties — making ink, transcribing visions, inscribing manuscripts, reading icons, and participating in various works and rituals aimed at the Council’s main purpose: to maintain elemental balance of the dimensions. But an Initiate had to begin at the beginning, and today Jaden would begin. Today she would become an alchemist. Perhaps, as a result of this new beginning, she could put an end to (or at least give herself a reprieve from) her desire to escape Council dimension.
Jaden had decided, after only her first few weeks, that Sadira’s lessons were preferable to those of both Linden and Tesu. Today, a few months later, she hoped Sadira would arrive before her fellow Initiates and take note of Jaden’s enthusiasm for laboratory work. Though Jaden knew that practical and written exams were the ultimate measure of one’s alchemical competency, she hoped that punctuality and organization would give her a slight edge over Laurel, Cercis, and Ritha in Sadira’s moral assessment of the Junior Initiates. What other advantage could Jaden have, given that she was the most recent arrival and, thus, the most naïve when it came to alchemical knowledge and protocols? The other three of her quarto had been here substantially longer than Jaden, and Laurel appeared particularly grateful to relinquish the role of newest Initiate. Of course, she surpassed Jaden in all arenas — including physical attractiveness, with her short and spiked hair. Jaden’s own long, wavy hair looked to be a tangled mess in comparison. Cercis, with only a few more years of experience than Laurel, acted as if he had both seniority and superiority over not only the other Juniors but the Senior Initiates as well. During joint Initiate classes, Cercis did indeed surpass most of the Seniors in his ability to solve theoretical dilemmas posed by the tutors. Another person may have gained respect from fellow students in such circumstances, but Cercis appeared to annoy everyone other than Laurel. Ritha had been a Council member the longest. Thus, she regularly asserted her hope that a conjunction in the upper orders would open a space for her own ascension out of the Junior Initiate. A week ago, Cercis had overheard Ritha expressing such a hope, at which point he adamantly reminded everyone that assessment for Initiate Ascension — like ascension to any Order — was made by Elder Council recommendation, not by seniority. “Exactly,” Ritha had responded, thus securing Jaden’s admiration.
“I’ve heard a rumour,” Ritha whispered as she took her place at the table beside Jaden.
“Yes?” said Jaden, mildly disappointed that Ritha had arrived before Sadira.
“Tesu has been cleared for conjunction by the Elders. So, my days in the Junior Initiate may soon come to an end.”
Jaden, not sure how to respond to such news, muttered, “I’ll miss you.” Ritha was the only person with whom Jaden had bonded here. Without Ritha’s presence in the Junior Initiate, Jaden’s desire to leave Council dimension would heighten exponentially.
Ritha laughed. “It’s not immediate. But I can see the light — so to speak. Apparently he discovered his own conjunctive destiny in the manuscripts last month. Can you imagine? Of course, all the Elders had to verify his findings, which they finally completed yesterday. Well, that’s the rumour — unofficially. The Azoths should make the official Announcement of Concurrence next week.” Ritha paused, looked behind her towards the door, as if checking for eavesdroppers, and then grabbed Jaden’s arm. “Who do you think his partner will be?”
“I have no idea,” said Jaden.
“I predict a Reader — maybe Terek or Wu Tong — which means someone from the Junior Magistrate will ascend to Senior Magistrate, and someone from the Senior Initiate will ascend to Junior Magistrate.”
Jaden nodded, trying to follow Ritha’s hierarchy of the Orders of Council.
“So,” Ritha continued elatedly, “a few months from now, yours truly will ascend from the Junior to Senior Initiate and wave to you from on high. Just kidding . . . about the on high part.” Though she remained in her spot beside the table, Ritha performed a short but enthusiastic dance of joy. “Can you believe it?” she asked. “I thought I’d have to wait years.”
“So this isn’t the usual time frame between conjunctions?”
“There’s no standard. Timing depends on the manuscripts, so you never know for sure. Linden once told us, in one of his otherwise boring lessons, that the longest stretch between conjunctions was fifteen years. Imagine! Someone — I think it was Ela — remained a Junior Initiate for thirty-two years. And, of course, at the higher orders, the waiting can be interminable. Imagine being an Azoth for hundreds of years waiting for the Azoth Magen’s Final Ascension!” She laughed. “Zelkova was lucky getting out of the Junior Initiate when she did — she ascended thanks to Cedar and Saule’s conjunction. And then we waited almost four years for you to arrive. Usually a new Initiate is found within a few months of the conjunction, which will be lucky for you.”
“Lucky for me?”
“You won’t have to be the newest Initiate for more than a few months. Really it would be perfect timing for everyone.”
Once again, Jaden was unsure how to respond. She had no idea whether this was perfect timing or not. Time, more than anything else in Council dimension, seemed relative. She merely hoped she would like whoever replaced her as the newest Initiate.
Sadira entered the classroom, thus bringing Ritha’s aspirations for ascension to a temporary end. A few minutes later, after Laurel and Cercis had taken their seats, Sadira instructed everyone to choose appropriate vessels and heating implements before collecting the ingredient list. Having prepared her materials in advance, Jaden stood quietly and waited for further instructions.
“The primary vessel must be made of dark glass,” Sadira said as Laurel carried one of light green to her table. “Is that dark, Laurel?”
“It’s not clear,” responded Laurel.
“It’s also not dark.”
When everyone was prepared, when vessels had been heated to precisely the correct temperature, Sadira directed everyone in the mixture of a chemical solution that was then poured slowly into the primary vessel.
“Position your lead pellet directly over the vessel. Allow it to be moistened by the vapours before letting it drop into the liquid.”
Jaden followed each step with care. Every minute of the first two hours was spent on a specific aspect of the transmutation. After the liquid came the mineral powder, then the salt block, then the silver infusion, and after that came the recitation of four particular alchemical chants — one of which had to be said in a specific 4th Council dialect. Jaden had rehearsed the chants repeatedly the night before. If she did not manage to turn her lead into gold, mispronunciation would be the most likely culprit. Step by step, Jaden followed Sadira’s instructions. Finally, the penultimate stage arrived: settling. The Initiates must wait to let the alchemical transmutation complete itself. Sadira said they could take a break as they waited, which Laurel, Cercis, and Ritha immediately did. But Jaden stayed put, peering into the dark vessel, hoping to observe the movement and colour shift that would indicate completion. Perhaps someday, after several years in the Initiate, after several years of repeating this same experiment, she would become lackadaisical, as the other Initiates seemed to be today.
“You seem anxious,” said Sadira, who was now standing on the other side of the table from Jaden.
Jaden smiled and nodded.
“As was I,” continued Sadira, “all those years ago.”
“Was your first transmutation successful?” asked Jaden.
Sadira laughed. “Not exactly. Be patient, Jaden. A hundred years or so from now when you are teaching this class, you may well find yourself nostalgic for these Initiate days, for a time when everything was something new to be discovered.”
And thus Jaden waited as patiently as she could.
Twenty minutes later, she poured the contents of her vessel into the drying solution, moving what felt like a hard pebble around with her fingertips through blue-tinged sand. Finally, she extracted the pebble and took it to the small fountain to be rinsed. The water felt soothing against her hand.
“Congratulations,” commended Sadira, as each of the four Initiates held up a small but perfect piece of gold.
The rumour of Tesu’s conjunction was confirmed the following week at a Council meeting. Azoth Ravenea made the Announcement of Concurrence, which was met by enthusiastic applause from the Council followed by the recitation of the “announcement” portion of the Law Codes of Conjunction, which Jaden had not yet memorized. Thus, instead of reciting, she stood silently and listened, trying to determine from the codes the precise meaning and outcome of conjunction. As she had done on countless occasions since her arrival, she found herself wishing that alchemical texts and icons were not as utterly incomprehensible as she found them to be. Reading alchemical manuscripts requires you to move beyond language. You will learn to do so soon enough, Cedar had told her. Jaden wondered how many decades comprised soon enough and how many times through those decades she would fail to believe Cedar.
Rowan Esche escorted a young woman to the dais. Cries of astonishment and whispers erupted. The woman, Jaden assumed, had been chosen as Tesu’s partner for conjunction. The Elders nodded solemnly, but the other Council members were visibly and audibly shocked at the Elders’ decision. Even Tesu himself appeared taken aback, though Jaden knew little of him and nothing of the woman who, shortly thereafter, stood on the Azothian dais face to face with Tesu, holding his hands. Cercis, who had fallen back into his seat beside Jaden, was shaking his head in apparent disbelief.
“It could have been me!” he whispered to Laurel, loud enough to be overheard by both Jaden and Ritha.
“You!” exclaimed Ritha. “It could have been me!”
“What do you mean?” Jaden asked.
“Tesu’s partner — she’s from the Senior Initiate. If I had ascended to Senior Initiate instead of Zelkova, I could have been among the candidates,” said Ritha.
“It doesn’t work that way,” insisted Laurel. Her annoyance was clear by her tone, but Jaden did not know whether she was annoyed at the ignorance of her fellow Junior Initiates or at the choice of the Senior Initiate for conjunction.
Jaden turned towards the woman standing beside Tesu. She wore garnet-coloured robes. Her long blonde hair fell loosely over her shoulders. She stood calmly, seemingly unabashed despite the Council members’ ongoing whispers. Though Jaden had not noticed during the initial flurry preceding the announcement, she saw now that the woman looked significantly younger than Tesu. Jaden did not recall having seen her elsewhere in Council dimension. How could she have missed noticing someone so utterly serene and captivating? The woman smiled and clasped her pendant in her left hand, holding it against her chest. Bowing towards the Initiates, her eyes briefly met Jaden’s, and Jaden turned swiftly away, aware of the heat of her sudden blushing.
