December 18th, 2004. Hildersham
Wearing warm overcoats borrowed from the Bamarts, Jack and Mina walked on the icy pavement to the church to look at it one last time. It was late morning and the sky seemed vast and empty. Mina felt as if she were on a pilgrimage to a desecrated relic. They sat in the church, on the front pew, side by side.
‘So that’s it, Mina. We should make tracks.’
Mina didn’t seem to have heard what he’d just said.
‘It’s amazing to think that the tablet was here since the 18th century, and no-one ever thought of looking,’ she said, pondering out loud.
‘Clearly, our not-so-mysterious enemies did think about it!’
‘What do you mean by not-so-mysterious?’ asked Mina, suddenly more attentive.
‘I acted on your hunch last night. I called Shobai.’
‘And?’
‘The phone line was disconnected, so I asked my contact in London to pass by Shobai’s house.’
‘And?’
‘He was gone, as was all his furniture. He moved out, without leaving a trace.’
‘So you think he was behind it all?’ asked Mina.
‘Possibly. He had the knowledge and the means to plan it and carry it out.’
‘I don’t know. He was strange of course… the way he avoided some of my questions.’
‘I’m sure he knew much more than he let on.’
‘That’s possible, I suppose, but I still find it difficult to see him as our Nemesis,’ said Mina.
‘If he is, I wonder how long he’s been after the tablet.’
‘Well, if you’re right about him, since around the 16th century,’ Mina exclaimed. ‘And that means Shobai is the descendent of the man whose name was crossed out so many times in the rabbi’s chronicle,’ she added in disbelief.
Jack didn’t reply.
‘Can you imagine how fanatical Shobai would have had to be to relentlessly pursue and destroy all records of the tablet, and with such ruthlessness?’ said Mina.
‘Yes, I can,’ said Jack, very seriously.
‘Well I can’t picture it. Call me naive, but he may have left his house in a hurry because he was terrified by the very people who are after us.’
Jack kept his thoughts to himself. They walked out of the church, across the yard and past a barren mulberry tree. Mina reflected she would never be there to taste its fruit. She would probably return to New York and get her life back together. They walked down the street heading back to Mulberry Cottage. As they crossed a small bridge, Mina stopped to look at a local area map stuck onto a wooden notice board. It had started to rain and dark clouds were gathering in the sky.
‘Come on Mina,’ said Jack, ‘we should get going. The weather’s changing.’
‘Just a second,’ she replied.
Jack watched Mina, standing in the middle of the road, thoughtful and completely oblivious to the rain. She suddenly started running to Mulberry Cottage and he followed closely. They walked into the house, soaking wet, and Mina rushed up to Joshua.
‘Joshua, do you know of a place called Noah’s Ark?’ she asked him impatiently.
‘I’m sorry?’ he replied, looking up at a drenched Mina.
‘In the fields, not too far from the bridge?’ she added.
‘Ah, yes. Noah’s Ark. It’s a very small patch of land.’
‘Why is it called that?’ she asked.
‘The local farmers call it that.’
‘But why?’
‘I’ll show you,’ he sighed. ‘I need a walk anyway.’
‘I’ll come too,’ said Daniel.
The four companions walked out into the fields, the rain beating hard against their umbrellas. They followed the river bank for about a hundred meters and then Joshua pointed to a slightly raised patch of land with an ancient and magnificent tree standing at its centre, its branches dark and long, stretching into the wind.
‘It’s a strange thing really,’ Joshua said. ‘We often get flashfloods here, even in the winter and what happens is truly amazing. As you know, this is the Fens region, flat lands, with fields as far as the eye can see, so locals know every mound, hill and dip in the landscape around them. Anyway, when flooding occurs in Hildersham, all the sheep flock as one to this spot, which is on slightly higher ground. Probably for that reason, it has always been called Noah’s Ark. It isn’t much of a hill, but enough not to be covered with water when the river overflows its banks.’
Mina had noticed a large quantity of nettles surrounding the mound. She made a small sign to Jack and Daniel to follow her to the other side of the tree.
‘We need to come back here tonight,’ said Mina ‘discreetly, with shovels. We shouldn’t tell your dad anything, Daniel. I don’t want to raise his hopes, just in case I’m wrong about this.’
‘What are you on about, Mina?’ asked Daniel.
‘This is no ordinary patch of land. This is what we call a ‘tell’ in archaeology, a mound, and the nettles here are a sign that the earth contains high levels of nitrates. Human bodies may have been buried here and perhaps other things too.’
She turned to Jack, ‘I don’t believe in coincidences anymore.’
Same day. Hackney warehouse, London.
Shobai was furious. The tablet his men had brought back was an ancient wedding contract written in Akkadian.
‘Ephraim was successful in Malibu, which means that this is your last mission. You two need to return to Hildersham tonight and follow Mina Osman. Find and destroy the tablet. Now go.’
Hildersham. Mulberry Cottage
‘So what do you work on exactly, Daniel?’ asked Mina. ‘All you told me was that you were in Hebrew studies.’
‘I work on a number of magical papyri found in Alexandria.’
‘Wow. Greek or Jewish papyri?’ she asked.
‘Both,’ he answered, with pride.
‘You know there are loads of similar magical Akkadian inscriptions’ she said.
‘I know. I’ve read many translations of omens you guys have found on cuneiform tablets. They’re fascinating,’ Daniel replied.
‘Academics,’ thought Jack, and he rolled his eyes. ‘They might be standing on the brink of disaster but they’ll chat about fascinating inscriptions. Unbelievable.’
‘Well, if you’re into magic, Daniel,’ said Jack, interrupting the scholars, ‘there’s still something I don’t understand.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Daniel, lying back against the couch.
‘How those bastards eluded me so many times,’ said Jack.
‘They’re well trained, I suppose,’ said Daniel.
‘I’m sure they are but believe me Daniel, I’m well trained too,’ Jack replied.
‘Well, how do you explain it?’ asked Daniel, with an air of satisfaction.
‘I can’t,’ said Jack, ‘all I can say is that although I couldn’t see them until it was too late, I could sense their presence. At the British Museum, Mina and I both realised that whenever they were close to us, we caught a whiff of a strange smell. That’s probably how I was sensing their presence, without being aware that it was their smell.’
‘What sort of smell was it?’ asked Daniel.
‘It’s difficult to describe. Wait a minute,’ he searched his pockets and retrieved the shard of the vial he had picked up after the fight at the British Museum. He handed it to Daniel.
‘I know this smell,’ said Daniel.
‘You do?’ asked Jack, genuinely impressed.
‘Yes, it’s oil,’ replied Daniel, feverishly, his eyes lit up.
‘Duh. Thanks Daniel, I’d never have guessed.’
‘No, it’s the oil,’ Daniel whispered. ‘It’s temple oil, Abramelin’s oil, whatever you want to call it.’
‘What’s wrong with the two of you,’ said Jack, looking at Mina and Daniel. ‘Don’t you ever speak English?’
‘I’m pretty lost myself,’ admitted Mina.
‘OK,’ said Daniel, ‘I’m sure you’ve seen countless images of witches stirring weird magical potions in large cauldrons, right?’
‘Yes,’ replied Jack.
‘Well Abramelin’s oil is the ultimate potion. I’m no expert in this, as I’m interested in ancient magical texts, but The Book of Abramelin is a treatise on magic. It was given by an Egyptian magus, Abra-Melin, to Abraham of Worms, a German Jew who lived in the early 15th century. It was used in the last century by people like Alistair Crowley and his secretive followers. According to some scholars, the text itself might have been the invention of another German Jewish Talmudist, Rabbi Yaakov Moelin, who also lived in the early 15th century.’
‘So what?’ asked Jack, impatiently.
‘All in good time,’ said Mina, smiling at Daniel to continue.
‘What else can you expect from an action hero?’ Daniel answered.
Jack scowled at him for a moment, then laughed along with them.
‘So, the oil?’ prompted Jack, gently.
‘Well, as far as I understand it, Abramelin oil is a version of the holy temple oil, as described in Exodus 30. Its ingredients are practically the same.’
He picked up a bible from his father’s library. He searched for the exact passage and then read out loud, ‘It’s in Exodus 30:22–29. The Lord said to Moses, ‘Take the finest spices: five hundred shekels of free-flowing myrrh; half that amount, that is, two hundred and fifty shekels, of fragrant cinnamon; two hundred and fifty shekels of fragrant cane; five hundred shekels of cassia-all according to the standard of the sanctuary shekel; together with a hin of olive oil; and blend them into sacred anointing oil, perfumed ointment expertly prepared. With this sacred anointing oil you shall anoint the meeting tent and the ark of the commandments, the table and all its appurtenances, the lamp stand and its appurtenances, the altar of incense and the altar of holocausts with all its appurtenances, and the laver with its base. When you have consecrated them, they shall be most sacred; whatever touches them shall be sacred.’
‘Those are all very strong fragrances and this oil could well be it,’ said Mina as she took another whiff of the vial.
Jack was mighty impressed by the young Cambridge scholar. ‘I think you’re right,’ he said to Daniel.
‘If these men managed to perform the so-called Abramelin operation, it means they know how to use it for magical purposes.’
‘Like what? Flying carpets?’ asked Jack.
‘…Like becoming invisible for a few hours,’ replied Daniel.
They all went silent.
‘Is that even possible?’ said Jack.
‘Who knows what is or isn’t possible?’ said Daniel. ‘They believe it is possible and that should tell you a lot about them.’
‘Yeah. They’re out of their fucking minds,’ said Jack.
‘We should all be extra careful from now on’ said Daniel. ‘If Mina is right, and they took a fake tablet of some sort, they might return.’
‘They might,’ agreed Jack, ‘I think you should stay here with your father tonight.’
‘He’s right,’ said Mina.
‘Alright,’ said Daniel.
Around midnight, Jack and Mina returned to the fields with torches and shovels. The weather had taken a turn for the worse. With the force of the wind, the rain was falling almost horizontally.
‘I wonder if this is such a great idea,’ said Jack.
‘We must try,’ Mina answered, shivering under her umbrella. When they reached the tree, Jack dropped the shovels and straightened his raincoat.
‘Where should I start digging?’ he asked Mina.
‘Right here, a few paces from the tree.’
Half an hour later, Jack hit against some stones. He wanted to use the pickaxe to pull them out, but Mina showed him how, in standard archaeological fashion, to dig along the edges of the subterranean wall.
‘We must follow the wall, to find the corners,’ she said.
Jack was sweating profusely under his raincoat, as he laboured in the mud. From time to time, he looked down below at the riverbank, at the waters rising by the minute. After a while, he had uncovered the remains of a tiny stone walled room. On the room’s ground level, below the vestiges of the roofing, which had caved in centuries ago, they found dozens of neatly arranged skeletons.
‘I feel terrible doing this at night, in these conditions’ said Mina.
‘You’re not the one digging,’ Jack reminded her.
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘I know what you meant. Whatever we find, I’ll cover the bodies when we’ve finished.’
‘Thanks Jack,’ she replied.
‘Hey, what’s that?’ Jack said suddenly.
‘What?’
‘There, in the inner corner, one of the skeletons seems to be sitting upright, holding some rotting wood.’
Mina stepped down into the room, to examine the wooden remains more closely. She started digging between the skeleton’s legs, and found a small metal box.
‘The box must have been encased in wood,’ she said to Jack.
‘Well, pick it up!’
Jack held the umbrella above her, as she climbed out of the room, carrying the box. She pried it open with a screwdriver and to Jack and Mina’s boundless joy, there it was: a baked clay tablet, covered with cuneiform writing.
Dark clothed men had been watching Mina and Jack all along. The time had now come for them to act. They crept slowly up towards the mound, but out of the corner of his eye Jack suddenly caught sight of their shapes moving below.
‘Down, Mina,’ he bellowed, ‘get down! They’re here.’
One of the men shouted from below, ‘Miss Osman, Major, hand over the tablet and you will not be harmed.’
‘You mean like Eli in Safed?’ said Jack as he reached for the guy tucked into his waistband and tried to figure out through the pounding rain where they were.
‘Hand over the tablet,’ the man shouted again.
Jack assessed their situation. He was at the top of a tiny hill in the middle of fields. They had no escape route.
‘Mina,’ he hissed, ‘take a photograph of the tablet, quickly.’
She was petrified.
‘Mina!’ he repeated.
‘My camera’s flash doesn’t work. What should I do?’ she asked.
‘Don’t you have your notebook?’ he muttered.
‘Yes.’
‘Well get on with it,’ Jack replied instantly ‘while I think of something.’
Mina started copying the signs on the tablet as fast as she could, but it was hard work, writing while holding an umbrella at the same time.
‘Hand it over,’ yelled the man from below, ‘and you have our word you won’t be harmed. We’re only interested in the tablet.’
‘So you work for Shobai?’ shouted Jack. ‘He doesn’t mind murdering old men?’
‘That was a mistake, our brother shouldn’t have killed the old man in Safed. All we want is the tablet.’
By this time, the river had broken its banks and overflowed into the fields, which were so flat the water quickly reached the lower part of the mound. Jack looked at Mina, scribbling away feverishly in her notebook. He had to gain more time. He heard the man shouting something from below.
‘You’re still there?’ asked Jack to the voice down below.
‘Yes,’ said the man.
‘You’re still there?’ repeated Jack, pretending not to hear.
‘Major, I told you, I am not going without the tablet,’ said the man.
‘What do you want with it?’ asked Jack.
‘That is not your concern. We don’t want to harm you. Just give us the tablet. You will never see us again.’
Jack turned to Mina and whispered, ‘Have you finished?’
‘Almost,’ she replied. She looked up and saw the water rising almost to her feet. She yelped. ‘How are we going to get out of here Jack?’
‘We’ll swim if need be,’ he replied grimly.
Jack suddenly realised he shouldn’t have wasted time talking to Mina. He had misjudged his opponents. There were two of them, but he had been speaking to only one. Where was the other man? He quickly turned around and there he was, climbing the other side of the mound. He had circled it while Jack was foolishly trying to gain precious time by bartering with the other man. It was too late. Before he could dive behind the tree, the man shot Jack twice. The force of the impact spun him around, and with a thud, he fell down on the sodden ground.
‘Jack!’ screamed Mina.
The man then took a shot at Mina, who instinctively flung her arms up to protect her face. The bullet hit the clay tablet still clutched in her hands, which shattered into tiny pieces and plopped into the rising waters. In shock, she watched the pieces sink into nothingness.
‘Yakov, we must go. We’re done here,’ shouted the first man, from down below.
‘I’m coming,’ he called, throwing a last look at a pitiful Mina, who had crawled to Jack’s body and was hugging him to her, her tears merging with the steady rain.
‘Are they gone?’ muttered Jack.
‘You’re alive? Oh Jack, I thought you were dead!’
‘Have they gone?’ he asked again, weakly.
‘Yes,’ she answered.
‘I think he shot me below the shoulder, I’m losing a lot of blood. The other bullet just grazed my wrist. We need to get back to the cottage.’
He was breathing heavily and his head was spinning. They waded through the muddy water, Mina supporting him most of the way, until they reached the main road which, fortunately, wasn’t flooded. From there they managed to make faster progress back to the cottage. As they reached it, Jack slumped, unconscious, on the doorstep, finally overcome.