01_-_The_Alchemyst

“There is no electricity in this house, Dr. John Dee. But we have heard
that you are a magician of note. If you wish to create light, then you are
permitted to do so.”
Without a word, Dee stretched out his hand. A blue spark snapped to
life in his palm. It buzzed and hissed, spinning about, then it started to grow,
from the size of a pea to that of a grape. It gave off a cold blue-white light.
Holding his hand out in front of him, Dee started down the stairs.
He began to count the steps as he descended, but quickly gave up,
distracted by the decorations on the walls, the ceiling and even the floor. It
was like stepping into an Egyptian tomb, but, unlike any of the countless
tombs he had seen, where the artwork was faded, chipped and broken and
everything was coated in a fine layer of gritty sand, here the decorations
were pristine, brilliant and complete. The colors, slightly distorted by the
blue light he was carrying, looked as if they had just been laid down, the
pictographs and hieroglyphs were vivid and crisp, the names of gods picked
out in thick gold leaf.
A sudden updraft caused the blue-white ball of light to flicker and dance
in his hand, sending the shadows leaping and darting. Dee’s nostrils flared:
the wind carried the stench of something old…old and long dead.
The stairs ended in a wide, vaulted cellar. Dee felt something crunch
and snap beneath his feet with his first step. He lowered his hand and the
blue-white light shone across the floor…which was covered with countless
tiny white bones, blanketing the ground in an ivory carpet. It took Dee a long
moment before he recognized the bones as those of rats and mice. Some of
them were so old that they crumbled into white powder when he disturbed
them, but others were much newer. Unwilling to ask a question to which he
really did not want an answer, Dee followed his silent guide, bones
crunching and crackling with every step. He lifted his hand high, shedding
light across the chamber. Unlike the stairwell, however, this room was
unadorned, the walls streaked black with moisture, green mold gathering
close to the floor, sprouting fungi dappling the ceiling.
“Looks like you have a problem with damp,” Dee said unnecessarily,
simply to break the growing silence.