The Alchemist's Key (5 page)

The animal was every bit as large as memory served, and sported the same folded ears. Its colouring was primarily deep blue-gray, with
white legs and underbelly, and huge amber eyes. The gray colouring encompassed its face, apart from a little white on its mouth and cheeks. In fact, the cat looked like it was wearing a Batman mask.

The feline had crossed the room and jumped onto a chair that was positioned before a small bureau. For the first time since it had caught Wade’s eye, the cat turned to note his movements.

‘Hi there,’ Wade whispered, not wanting to scare or rile the animal.

The cat looked back to the bureau, pressed its paw against a small wooden notch at the base of the rolled timber paneling and the desk cover retracted. When the cat stepped onto the open desktop, Wade thought it was time to object, and stood to do so. But as soon as he raised himself, the feline’s ears pressed hard to its head and it hissed violently at Wade. The animal was clearly not about to give up the ground it had gained, and its incessant hissing did not cease until Wade was again seated.

Then, calm as you please, the cat went back to its business. It perused the various compartments in the bureau before raising itself onto its back haunches — which made it look like an otter. This enabled the cat to draw an envelope from the top
shelf using the sharp middle claw of its right paw. The envelope in question fell to the desk, whereupon the cat looked from it to Wade, back to the envelope and then to Wade again. Without further ado, it leapt from the desk and dashed out the door.

Wade was practically on its heels, yet when he arrived in the tiny hallway both the exit doors were closed, and there was no hint of any movement or sound.

‘How weird is this?’ In the belief that he might have imagined the whole thing, Wade spun around to check the envelope was still on the bureau. ‘Maybe I’ve fallen asleep at the computer, and I’m dreaming?’ The sealed envelope was still where the cat had left it.

Wade walked over and took the letter in hand. He headed into his drawing room.

The fire had burnt out hours ago, but with a little coaxing and some fuel, Wade managed to get it crackling again. After getting himself comfortable in his favourite chair, Wade broke the seal on the envelope and took out a long parchment which he proceeded to unfold. The letter was written in a stylish, bold calligraphy, and he was stunned to find it was addressed to himself.

Dear Wade,

I trust this letter finds you safe and well as Baron Ashby. This inheritance has come as a shock to you, I realise, for my son, Peter, was none too fond of Ashby or his birthright. Of course, you have questions, and I shall endeavour to answer those issues that must be foremost in your mind.

‘Well, it’s about time somebody did,’ commented Wade, lighting a cigarette and looking back to the parchment.

After your parents’ sad death, I roused the courage to contact you, but heart trouble prevented me from travelling to Australia. As I wanted to meet you in person, I put off introducing myself … for too long it seems, as now I find myself with little time remaining. My condition has worsened, practically overnight, and I regret that I have not been able to prepare you for what lies ahead.

‘Not so regretful as I, Grandpa.’ Wade shuffled his fingers down the paper to read on, whereby he nearly set the parchment alight with the burning tip of his cigarette. ‘Whoops.’ Wade stubbed the burning hole out with his fingertips, and placed the cigarette out of harm’s way.

I inherited Ashby at age seventeen, though that does not make me the youngest Baron. The
second Baron, Frances I, was only fourteen when he inherited the manor and title.

‘Shit!’ exclaimed Wade, suddenly feeling himself fortunate.

For sixty years Ashby has been a source of wonder and inspiration to me. For the inquiring mind and adventurous spirit, there is treasure buried in this place. By now you will have noticed that there is something a little different about Ashby, something mysterious, something inexplicable and alluring.

‘Yeah, I have as a matter of fact.’

This is the gift of your forefathers and is not to be feared, but embraced and investigated. The twelve Barons of Ashby who preceded you have all shared a passion for the arts, thoroughbred horses, and the exploration and study of all that is yet to be explained in this world. I have learned, through investigation, that you share this love of strange realms, having taken an active interest in cyberspace. I believe your interest in fusing art with an exciting new frontier is proof that you are an Ashby in the fullest sense. Educated and loving your father may have been, but he was the first of his line
ever
to fear the unknown. This is what drove Peter from Ashby, and his rightful place in her history.

This was a true enough claim. His father had always hated discussing ghosts, aliens, or anything else that might be considered bizarre.

I imagine, from what I have been able to learn, that this shall not be the case with you, Wade. Take what your forefathers have given you, explore it, learn from it, build on it, then pass it on to your sons. Thirteen generations have benefited greatly from what the first Baron, William Ashby, established here. It is up to you to see to it that the next thirteen generations are allowed the same advantage. Your forefathers are watching over you, Wade. My best wishes for your future.

Edward Ashby, 12th Baron.

‘Is that it?’ Wade flipped the long sheet of parchment around, but the other side was blank. ‘Explain what you mean by mysteries, buried treasure … What about the cat? And the temple in the dream? If I’m not dreaming now, that is.’

Some strange stoned logic led Wade to scan a copy of the document into his computer before he went to bed. It was too late to email the document off to Hugh for an opinion; Wade knew he couldn’t think clearly enough to write a letter of explanation to accompany it. In the morning, he’d have a better grip on reality.

W
ade hid the original copy of the letter from his grandfather beneath his pillow for safekeeping. Come morning, however, it was no longer there.

Another dream?
Wade wondered, having searched under the bedclothes and beneath the bed. ‘Is there a cat about the house, Talbot?’

‘A cat, Sir? No, Sir.’ The butler seemed quite sure about it. ‘Is that what you’re looking for?’

‘What about the neighbours? Do any of them own a huge grey and white tomcat, with funny folded ears?’ Wade became more hopeful when he saw how pale Talbot went suddenly.

‘You saw this cat, Sir?’

Wade shrugged, ‘I might have imagined it, which is why I was asking you if it exists. Does it?’

‘There was only one cat like the one you describe. It was your grandfather’s cat. McCloud. So called because it was of a rare feline breed known as a Scottish fold. The cat’s father had been a prize-winning British short-hair, thus your grandfather gave him the first name of Arthur.’

‘The cat’s name is Arthur McCloud?’ Wade thought this to be a bit eccentric.

Talbot nodded. ‘Nobody has seen hide nor hair of Arthur since your grandfather’s death. The cat just seemed to vanish.’

‘It’s real good at that,’ Wade assured Talbot. ‘So, was I dreaming or not?’ He had to know.

‘Do finish breakfast one morning, my Lord,’ Talbot pleaded, as Wade headed into the drawing room. ‘Surely your curiosity can wait ten minutes.’

‘I’ll be back in two seconds.’ Moments later. ‘Talbot!’

The butler made haste to discover the cause of Wade’s alarm, and found the Baron just beyond the music room doors.

‘What happened to the wooden bureau that was here.’ Wade pointed to the empty space against the music room wall.

‘We moved it out of here to make way for the home entertainment centre you have coming today.’

‘Oh?’ Wade’s heart slowed down to a normal pace — for a second, he thought he’d started imagining objects as well. ‘It’s a bit early in the day to be shifting heavy furniture about, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ Talbot replied, rather curious about the comment, ‘so it is fortunate that we moved the bureau out of here two days ago.’

‘Two days ago!’ Wade gripped his head. Did none of what happened last night make sense? ‘Today is Monday?’ He thought he’d better check.

‘Well, as yesterday was Sunday, I certainly hope so,’ Talbot advised.

‘Damn it!’ There went the possibility that he’d somehow missed a couple of days. Wade made a flying leap for his computer, and booted up. ‘Please be here, please be here,’ he mumbled over and over. That document was the only proof of his sanity he had. ‘Come on,’ he whined as he waited for the system to finish loading. ‘Yes!’ Wade threw both arms in the air when he spied the new folder on his desktop. ‘Thank God.’ He double-clicked on the icon to check the text and read over the letter.

‘Shall I bring your breakfast in here, perhaps?’ Talbot inquired, as the young Baron seemed to have settled in one place for the moment.

‘Sorry, Talbot,’ Wade granted, realising he’d got sidetracked already. ‘That would be great, thanks.’
‘Have you gone completely nuts!’ Hugh’s face filled Wade’s monitor screen. ‘I’ve only been gone a day! If this is what happens when I leave you alone in big creepy houses, then …’ Hugh didn’t know what to say about re-occurring furniture, but he had a solution for the cat. ‘I think it’s time we got you a
puppy
!’

‘That’s it! That’s your big solution. A puppy!’ Wade couldn’t believe that Hugh would pick now to find his sense of humour. ‘What did you make of the letter?’

Hugh frowned. ‘It seems to be an old eccentric’s attempt to cover up whatever gripe he and your father truly had with one another.’

‘But the delivery of the note was mysterious.’

In truth, Hugh thought Wade’s imagination was running away with him, as it often had a tendency to do. ‘I suspect you’ll find the aforementioned treasure and mysteries buried in the library.’

‘Why the library?’

‘Elementary, my dear Ashby … your grandfather was speaking of knowledge, a wealth of knowledge.’

‘Are you quite sure about that?’ Wade was most disappointed, as books weren’t really his idea of adventure and intrigue. ‘You’re a real spoilsport, you know that, Hugh?’

‘Just try and stay sane until I get back,’ Hugh advised before Wade’s screen went blank.

Determined to find some answers without reading every book in the known universe, Wade chased up the little bureau, which had been moved to the downstairs drawing room. Wade found the missing letter from his grandfather in the same compartment from which the cat had procured it the night before. The seal on the back was broken, as he’d left it, and the small burn hole his cigarette had left in the parchment made it clear that this was indeed the same document.

Understandably, Wade’s thoughts were a little preoccupied for the rest of the day.

His new home entertainment system arrived, complete with cabinet, video and laser-disc player, four-in-one stereo system, and a huge fibre-optic television. Wade didn’t bother with a mini-disc player, as he already had one rigged up to his computer.

Wade insisted on setting up the whole system himself, although Andrew did lend a hand, and Talbot cleared away all the discarded packaging.

‘Hey, would you like to go down the street later, grab some videos and something to drink … we could make a night of it?’ Wade put forward.

Andrew was holding up one side of the cabinet whilst the Baron searched for the right-sized screwdriver, and checked to make sure he was the only other person present. ‘Who, Sir? Me, Sir?’

‘Yeah, you.’ Wade got up to search his desk drawers for the tool he sought. ‘You watch videos, don’t you?’

‘Well, yes, but —’

‘You have a date, is that it?’

‘No, Sir, I —’

‘You don’t like me, then?’

‘No, Sir. I mean, yes, Sir, I do like you.’ Andrew was finding himself torn; he would have loved to befriend the young Baron, who was not much older than himself. ‘It’s just that I don’t think my father would approve.’

‘What? Talbot and my grandfather never hung out together?’

‘No, Sir, never.’ Andrew informed in all seriousness.

Wade was really surprised to hear this, as Talbot had been in his grandfather’s service for so long. ‘Well, I don’t believe in all this keeping the classes separated crap! Everything else aside, if you
could
accept my invitation, would you?’

‘Of course I would, Sir.’ Andrew looked around
at the entertainment system. ‘I’ve never even dreamt of half this stuff.’

‘Then consider it a done deal. I’ll take care of it.’ Wade discovered the screwdriver he sought on his desk. But as he reached for it, he noticed some people walking through the garden. ‘Do we run tours at this time of year?’

‘No, Sir.’

‘Then, who are those people?’ Wade pointed out the window.

Andrew couldn’t see down into the gardens from where he stood supporting the cabinet, but he knew who the people were all the same. ‘Some of the locals cut through the grounds to get to Ashbury. Your grandfather knew most of them, so it never bothered him.’

‘I suppose it’s okay then.’ Wade looked back to the job at hand.

When Talbot returned for the next load of rubbish, Wade asked his permission for Andrew to keep him company this evening. The butler was more than a little reluctant to agree, and asked his son to leave whilst he spoke with the Baron alone. ‘Sir, I realise you may be wanting for company, now that Mr Prescott has left us, but to befriend my son will only lead to his confusion and disappointment in the end.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Wade cocked an eye in curiosity.

‘Well, Sir, what happens when he must return to being your chauffeur, and he forgets his place? He will simply appear unprofessional.’

One side of Wade’s face screwed up as he considered this reason, for he was sure it wasn’t the true one. ‘I don’t think you give Andrew enough credit, Talbot … he’s a smart kid. You manage to shuffle my formal title with another more informal one. Why can’t he?’

‘But I never become personal, Sir, therefore there is no confusion.’

‘Then I’ll fire him as my chauffeur and hire him as my friend.’

‘And will you supply references for that, Sir, when his time in your employ is over?’

Wade’s mouth opened ready to protest, but he found he could not; he got Talbot’s point. ‘All right, you’re right. But I’m going to go insane in this place if I am forced to keep my own company all the time, and Andrew must be going mad, too! Couldn’t we just give it a trial? It would only be now and then, as I work on my computers a lot of the time.’

Talbot found this situation absurd. Here was the Baron begging his leave. It was true that
Andrew was bored most evenings. He had been sent away for schooling, so his son didn’t have many friends his own age close by. ‘Please forgive my suggestion, Sir, but I really don’t want Andrew picking up any expensive habits.’

‘No dope, I swear … just a couple of beers.’

Talbot took a deep sigh. He knew where this relationship was headed before it even began. ‘Well, Sir, I find friendship has a way of defying all obstacles. To try and prevent it would be futile, and possibly quite wrong. Even as his father, it is not my place.’

‘You’re a righteous man, Talbot.’ Wade gently punched the old butler’s shoulder. ‘Thanks for trusting me.’

Talbot nodded, a vague smile on his face. ‘Just don’t get him hurt, Sir, that is all I ask.’

‘You got it.’

‘I still can’t believe you talked him into this. He never lets me have any fun.’ Andrew cracked a can of beer open, took a couple of sips and gave a satisfied sigh. ‘Did you threaten to fire him or something?’

Wade, who was powering up the video, had a chuckle at this. ‘Your old man is cooler than you think.’ He hit surround sound on the stereo and
hurried back to his favourite chair, dragged in from the drawing room. ‘All right, we’re happening.’ He rubbed his hands together briskly and was seated, taking the master control in hand.

Andrew was shuffling through all the videos Wade had chosen, and noticed a similarity. ‘Did you realise that every movie here is about a big haunted house?’

‘Not scared, are you?’

‘No, Sir.’

Wade cringed. ‘Can’t you call me by my first name when there’s no one else around?’ Andrew was slow to respond, clearly uncomfortable about the idea. ‘I know! You could call me Baron, but in the context of a nickname. How would that be?’

‘Just … Baron.’ Andrew tried it out. ‘That works for me.’

‘Me too,’ Wade agreed. ‘Now, a little quiet, please, so we can watch this masterpiece.’

Talbot couldn’t resist taking a wander past the music room before retiring for the night. The butler could hear the sound effects from the horror film showing in the Baron’s chambers from two rooms away. As he moved closer, the garbled conversation and laughter of the lads could also
be heard, the sound of which brought a smile to the old man’s face.

Between movies, Andrew requested permission to roll a joint — knowing what the Baron was like, he didn’t think he’d object.

‘I promised your father no pot,’ Wade confessed. ‘He doesn’t want you picking up my expensive habits, as it were.’

Andrew had to laugh at this. ‘I’ve been smoking the stuff since school.’ He pulled out his own stash. ‘And anyway, I didn’t make any such promise.’

‘A man after my own heart.’ Wade folded, suggesting they smoke the joint out the window at least, so the smell didn’t attract attention.

As they hung outside, freezing, Wade got around to asking Andrew about the ghosts he’d mentioned on the first day that Wade had arrived at Ashby.

‘I’ve only ever seen the couple that frequent the servants’ quarters,’ Andrew commented, flicking the ash from the end of the smoke. ‘But Rosia, the maid, she reckons she bumps into them all over the place. She won’t come up into the main house at night … gets too crowded, she said.’

Wade couldn’t work out if Andrew was winding him up or not. For someone who seemed
so meek and mild all the time, there was a much deeper, darker side to this fellow. Wade rather liked it. ‘So you believe in them, then, ghosts?’

‘Hey, seeing is believing, Baron,’ Andrew advised and passed the smoke on. ‘I believe.’

Wade grinned, still sceptical, but Andrew didn’t crack a smile. He was either a bloody good fibber or dead serious about what he was telling him. ‘Did my grandfather ever mention seeing ghosts?’

‘Seeing them!’ Andrew forced half a laugh. ‘He used to talk to them.’

‘Talk to them. Really?’

‘Sure! He used to have arguments and sword fights with them, go dancing, you name it.’

‘You’re kidding me?’ Wade’s jaw was starting to drop.

‘Yeah, I am.’ Andrew ducked inside to avoid a backhander.

Not long into the third feature, the music room door creaked open.

Remembering the previous night’s events prompted Wade to look this time, and sure enough the cat came striding in. ‘Hey, Andy,’ Wade whispered, motioning to the cat now cleaning itself by the door.

Andrew was stunned when he saw the animal. ‘That cat has been dead since I was a kid,’ he whispered back.

Wade rolled his eyes, knowing Andy was exaggerating this time. ‘Nice try, kiddo … but your father already told me it only disappeared a few weeks ago.’

‘Why would he tell you that? It isn’t true,’ Andy defended his claim.

‘Shh!’ Wade instructed, turning down the volume with the remote control. ‘Here, Arthur. Here puss.’ He patted his leg to encourage it closer.

‘No, Baron.’ Andrew was horrified as the cat sauntered over.

It stopped just short of Wade’s touch, meowing as it hesitated and then withdrew to the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Wade raised himself quick-smart to pursue the cat. He didn’t want it getting away from him a second time.

‘Baron, please. I’m telling you the truth.’ Andrew detained him.

‘Give it up, Jenkins. It’s just a cat.’ Wade took off to find the elusive feline.

The doors, all the way to the long gallery at the other end of the house, were open. The cat was scampering across the marble floor of the dimly-lit
domed gallery, headed for the drawing room on the far side.