I almost laughed when I realized what had happened. It was a trick. All you had to do was say the word Loquere, and you could enter. I had to admire Arwel for his cleverness.

The room that lay on the other side of the door was truly extraordinary. A large table in the middle of the room was covered with glass apparatus, metal devices, and piles of books and documents. On shelves around the room, there were jars full of substances and liquids, some of which swirled and occasionally bubbled. There were also many books, and bundles of papers that were tied with string or thin strips of leather. As I slowly walked towards the desk, I stopped to look at some of the labels that were affixed to the jars. Hyoscyamus niger (Henbane), Conium maculatum (Hemlock), Atropa belladona (Deadly Nightshade), Laburnum seeds, Aconitum (Wolfsbane). I knew that these were all deadly poisons, and were favored by practitioners of dark magic. What would Arwel want with such things?

On another shelf, I saw glass vessels that contained animals floating in a liquid. Suspended in the yellowish fluid were snakes, rats, a young rabbit, and other creatures that I could not name. One creature looked so much like a young cockatrice that I spent many moments gazing at it. I thought sure creatures were gone from the earth, and yet here was evidence that this was not the case. Where had Arwel found the cockatrice and what was he going to do with it?

As I approached the large table I could hear the snowflakes softly falling on the skylight window above my head. On the polished surface of the desk there was a scrap of paper on which Arwel had written notes:

“Finding a way to lengthen life must take precedence. Discuss with Dee what he has learned about this matter. Blood? Can this be the answer?”

Clearly Arwel was not content to live the lifespan that was rightly his. He wanted to live longer than was his due. Next to the piece of paper there was a book with a black cover. Embossed on the cover in gold letters were the words Mortui resurgent. The dead shall rise. I felt prickles of warning ripple across my neck. Still, I opened the book and it took me but a moment of two to ascertain that this book was about the dark art of necromancy, the communication with or reanimation of the dead.

Feeling sick with shock, I stepped away from the book. It was true then that Dr. Dee was teaching Arwel about dark magic, that Arwel was well on his way to becoming a magician who sought to control forces that were not meant to be controlled by man. Knowing that Arwel was experimenting with things that smelled of darkness made me want to flee from his house, to put as much distance as I could between us. Quickly I left that terrible room, and even more quickly I left the house. I made my way home walking (nay running) as fast as I could.

As I ran, I thought about Arwel’s association with Dr. Dee. My uncle Caradoc’s suspicions and the rumors we had heard were right after all. Dr. Dee and his associates did indeed do more than create astrology charts. They were alchemists, or magicians. There are, to be sure, aspects of alchemy that are benign, and some are even beneficial, but there are also alchemists who seek the answers to questions that should remain a secret. We are not meant to trouble the dead to ask them questions. We are not meant to find ways to extend life.

I was never more glad to be back in my humble home, far from the smell of darkness, and far from Arwel with his falsely smiling eyes and his silvered words. Barely taking a moment to rest, I packed up a bag, and soon after, I left my home. I needed to get away.

A cockatrice is a legendary creature, essentially a two-legged dragon with a rooster’s head. The creatures appeared in English stories and legends for centuries.