Interlude
June 4, 1932 - Florence - Afternoon
"Well, that doesn't bode well for the brothers," Madelyn mumbled. Reaching for her tea, she took a sip and made a face. "Yechh. It's gone cold." Looking up, she saw Carlos still sitting opposite, his features pensive. "Oh relax, will you?" Carefully she set down the book and patted the open page. "Granted, this is some weird shit, but it's not like something's going to jump out of the box and bite my neck. Right?"
Carlos squirmed and cast about the room.
Madelyn grinned at his discomfort. "Is there something wrong with the chair?"
"No, Miss York. The chair is fine."
"Then be a dear and get me another cup of tea. And pour yourself a stiff drink. You look like you need one."
Pushing himself out of the posh seat, Carlos took Madelyn's tea cup and went to the kitchen.
Over the sound of running water Madelyn said, "Tell me about this
Nameless Cults book. Why do you fear it so much?" Picking it up, she felt a cold shiver crawl inexplicably along her spine. Quickly she set the tome down and regarded it, long and hard.
Carlos voice was loud. "Like I said, it is evil."
Madelyn jumped and turned in her chair, looking over the high back. Carlos stood behind her. "Jesus Christ. That's twice you've done that. Nearly gave me a heart attack."
Face passive, he said, "Perhaps Miss York would prefer a stiff drink to tea?"
"Touché." Sitting back, she said, "That's actually a good idea. Get us both one. And turn off the tap."
Minutes later Carlos sat down with two glasses of scotch, sliding one to Madelyn, careful to avoid the book. He took a hard mouthful from his glass and said, "
Nameless Cults was written by Friedrich Wilhelm von Juntz in 1839. There is some argument over the literal translation of the German title, suggesting it should be
Von Unaussprechlichen Kulten, but that's for academics to squabble over. Suffice to say this is an original edition, and not one of the error ridden English translations that have surfaced over the years."
"English translations? I didn't realize it was so popular. How come I've never heard about this?"
"Few have, and only a handful of these editions are known to exist. Like the
Necronomicon, it's something best kept out of the hands of people like you and me."
"The
Necronomicon? I've heard of that. In fact, Uncle has a copy on the bookshelf." She pointed at an upright book close to the fireplace, the title boldly displayed.
"... Uncle has a copy on the bookshelf."
"That is a poorly translated copy based on work by John Dee. Quite harmless, fortunately. The original was penned in Arabic sometime during the eighth century. Subsequent translations into Greek and Latin diluted the text. But make no mistake, it is said to read certain passages from those more ancient copies will bring about madness and unleash things best left alone."
"Charming. And how about
Cults here? Does the same ominous message apply?"
Carlos downed the remainder of his drink and nodded. "Yes, but to a lesser degree. Still, there are things in that book that should never be read, and I implore you not to, Miss York."
Madelyn regarded the young man for long moments over the lip of her glass. She noted just how old his eyes appeared. Funny she hadn't observed that before now. Sighing, she set the glass down and picked up the
Halfdan tome. Turning the page, her brow knit as she said, "Hmmph."
"What is it, Miss York?"
"This next section has to do with Halfdan's son Gudfrid. It appears he led a raiding expedition into France." Motioning toward her empty glass, she said, "Another round, Carlos. And make it a double."
As he walked over to the bar, Madelyn said lightly, "Does Uncle have a copy of this original
Necronomicon?"
Carlos looked away and swallowed.
"Another round, Carlos. And make it a double."