King Solomon's Diamonds

25 Alchemy of the Gods

Abdul Raya came walking down the busy street in Berchem, a quaint neighborhood in the Flemish region of Antwerp. He was on his way to the home business of an antique dealer named Hannes Wetter, a Flemish connoisseur obsessed with precious stones. His collection included various ancient pieces from Egypt, Mesopotamia, India, and Russia, all adorned in rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and sapphires. But Raya cared little for the age or rarity of Wetter’s collection. There was but one piece he was interested in, and of that piece, he needed only a fifth of it.

Wetter had spoken to Raya on the phone three days prior, before the floods began in earnest. They had arranged an eccentric amount for the impish effigy of Indian origin that Wetter had in his collection. Although he insisted that this particular piece was not for sale, he could not refuse Raya’s bizarre offer. The customer had discovered Wetter on eBay, but from what Wetter had learned from speaking with Raya, the Egyptian knew much of ancient art and nothing about technology.

Everywhere in Antwerp and Belgium, the flood alarm was rife after the past few days. All along the coastline, from Le Havre and Dieppe in France across to Terneuzen in the Netherlands, homes were being evacuated as the sea level continued to rise without cause. With Antwerp sandwiched in the middle, the already flooded landmass of the Drowned Land of Saeftinghe had been lost under the tides already. The rest of the towns, like Goes, Vlissingen, and Middelburg, were also beneath the waves, all the way north to The Hague.

Raya smiled, knowing he was the master of the mystery weather channels and authorities could not unravel. Throughout the streets, he continued to pass people in frantic conversation, speculating and terrified of the still rising ocean soon to flood Alkmaar and the rest of Northern Holland within the next day.

“God is punishing us,” he heard a middle-aged woman say to her husband outside a coffee shop. “This is why this is happening. This is a wrath of God.”

Her husband looked as shaken as she, but he tried to find some solace in reasoning. “Matilda, calm down. Maybe it’s just a natural phenomenon the weather people could not pick up on those radar things,” he implored.

“But why?” she persisted. “Natural phenomena are caused by the will of God, Martin. This is divine punishment.”

“Or divine evil,” her husband muttered, to his religious wife’s horror.

“How can you say that?” she shrieked, just as Raya walked by. “What reason would there be for God to send evil upon us?”

“Oh, I cannot resist that one,” Abdul Raya exclaimed aloud. He turned in his steps to join the woman and her husband. They were dumbstruck by his peculiar look, his claw-like hands, his sharp, bony face and sunken eyes. “Madam, the beauty of evil is in that, unlike good things, evil needs no reason to sow destruction. It is in the very essence of evil to willfully destroy for the sheer thrill of it. Good day.” As he sauntered off, the man and his wife stood frozen in shock, mostly at his revelation, but definitely for his appearance as well.

On television channels everywhere warnings were sent out, while reports of flood deaths joined company with other reports from the Mediterranean basin, Australia, Southern Africa and South-America of threatening floods. Japan lost half of its population while a myriad of islands were sinking under the sea.

“Oh, wait, my darlings,” Raya sang merrily as he approached the home of Hannes Wetter, “it is a curse of water. Water is found everywhere, not just in the sea. Wait, the fallen Kunospaston is the water demon. You could drown in your own bath tubs!”

This had been the latest star to fall, as observed by Ofar after Penekal heard of the rising sea levels in Egypt. But Raya knew what was to come, since he was the architect of this chaos. The emaciated Magician sought only to remind mankind of their insignificance in the eyes of the Universe, the uncountable eyes that glinted down upon them every night. And for good measure, he enjoyed the power of destruction he controlled and the juvenile thrill of being the only one who knew why.

Of course, the latter was but his opinion of matters. The last time he’d imparted knowledge on mankind, the Industrial Revolution had come of it. He had not had to do much after that. Men discovered science in a new light, engines replaced most transport, and machinery needed the blood of the Earth to keep running efficiently in the race to destroy other countries in competition for power, money, and evolution. As he had expected, people used knowledge to destroy — a delightful wink at evil incarnate. But Raya had become bored with the repetition of wars and monotonous greed, so he decided to do something more… something final… to dominate the world.

“Mr. Raya, so nice to see you. Hannes Wetter, at your service.” The antique dealer smiled as the odd character walked up the steps to his front door.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wetter,” Raya greeted gracefully, shaking the man’s hand. “I look forward to obtaining my prize.”

“Of course. Come in,” Hannes replied smoothly, grinning from ear to ear. “My shop is in the basement. Here you go.” He gestured for Raya to lead the way down a very posh staircase, adorned with beautiful and expensive ornaments on stands that lead down along the banister. Above them, some woven items glittered in the mild breeze of a small fan Hannes kept the place cool with.

“This is an interesting little place. Where are your customers?” Raya asked. The question perplexed Hannes slightly, but he assumed the Egyptian was just more inclined to do things the old way.

“My customers usually order online and we send out the items to them,” Hannes explained.

“They trust you?” the thin Magician started in sincere surprise. “How do they pay you? And how do they know you will keep to your word?”

A befuddled chuckle escaped the seller. “Over here, Mr. Raya. In my office. I decided to keep the piece you asked for in there. It has a provenance, so you are assured of the authenticity of your purchase,” Hannes replied courteously. “And here is my laptop.”

“Your what?” the suave, dark Magician asked coolly.

“My laptop?” Hannes repeated, pointing at the computer. “Where you can transfer the funds from your account to pay for the item?”

“Oh!” Raya realized. “Of course, yes. I’m sorry. I had a long night.”

“Women or wine?” the jovial Hannes chuckled.

“Walking, I’m afraid. It is more exhausting now that I’m older, you see,” Raya remarked.

“I know. I know that all too well,” Hannes said. “I used to run marathons as a young man, and now I can hardly make it up the steps without having to stop to catch my breath. Where did you go walking?”

“Ghent. I couldn’t sleep, so I started walking to come and see you,” Raya explained matter-of-factly as he scrutinized the office with wonderment.

“Excuse me?” Hannes gasped. “You walked from Ghent to Antwerp? Fifty odd kilometers?”

“Yes.”

Hannes Wetter was floored, but noted that the customer’s appearance seemed that of someone rather eccentric, someone who did not seem fazed by most things.

“That is impressive. Would you like some tea?”

“I would like to see the effigy,” Raya said firmly.

“Oh, of course,” Hannes said, and went to the wall safe to retrieve the twelve-inch statuette. When he returned, Raya’s black eyes immediately identified the six uniform diamonds lodged in the sea of gems that made up the exterior of the statuette. It was a hideous looking imp, jagged teeth in a snarl and long black hair on its main head. Carved from black ivory, the thing boasted two faces on each side of its main face, although it only had one body. Upon the forehead of each face, a diamond was set.

“Like myself, this imp is uglier in real life,” Raya said with a morbid smile as he took the statuette from a laughing Hannes. The seller was not about to argue his buyer’s point, as it was pretty much true. But his propriety was saved the awkwardness by Raya’s curiosity. “Why does it have five faces? One would be enough to scare off intruders.”

“Ah, that,” Hannes said, eager to describe the origin. “According to the provenance, it has had only two owners before. A king from Sudan owned it in the Second Century but claimed that it was cursed, so he donated it to a church in Spain during a campaign in the Alboran Sea, near Gibraltar.”

Raya looked up at the man with a confused expression. “That is why he has five faces?”

“No, no, no,” Hannes laughed. “I’m still getting to that. This piece was modelled on the Indian god of evil, Ravana, but Ravana had ten heads, so this probably was an inaccurate ode to the god-king.”

“Or it is not the god-king at all,” Raya smiled, counting the remaining diamonds as the six of the Seven Sisters, demonesses from the Testament of King Solomon.

“How do you mean?” Hannes asked.

Raya rose to his feet, still smiling. In a soft, educational tone he said, “Watch.”

One by one, to the fierce objection of the antique dealer, Raya used his pocket knife to extricate each diamond until they counted six in his palm. Hannes did not know why, but he was too terrified of the visitor to do anything to stop him. A creeping fear overtook him, as if the devil himself stood in his presence and he could do nothing, only watch, as his visitor insisted. The tall Egyptian collected the diamonds into his palm. Like a parlor magician at a cheap party he showed the stones to Hannes. “See that?”

“Y-yes,” Hannes affirmed, his brow wet with perspiration.

“These are six of the Seven Sisters, demons bound by King Solomon to build his temple,” Raya said with an informative quality reminiscent of a showman. “They were responsible for digging the foundations of the Temple of Jerusalem.”

“Interesting,” Hannes forced, trying to sound even and not to panic. What his customer told him was both preposterous and scary, deeming him insane in Hannes’ eyes. This gave him cause to think that Raya might be dangerous, so he played along for now. He’d realized that he was probably not going to get paid for the artifact.

“Yes, it is very interesting, Mr. Wetter, but do you know what is really fascinating?” Raya asked, while Hannes stared unresponsively. Raya pulled the Celeste from his pocket with his other hand. The smooth, gliding movements of his elongated hands were quite beautiful to behold, like the form of a ballet dancer. But Raya’s eyes darkened as he brought his two hands together. “Now you are going to see something truly interesting. Call it alchemy; alchemy of Grand Design, the transmutation of the gods!” Raya cried above the ensuing rumbling that came from all around. Inside his claws a reddish gleam poured between his thin fingers and the creases in his hands. He raised his hands, proudly exhibiting the power of his strange alchemy to Hannes, who was grasping his chest in horror.

“Put that heart attack on hold, Mr. Wetter, until you’ve beheld the foundations of your own temple,” Raya requested cheerfully. “Look!”

That dreaded command to watch, to look, was too much for Hannes Wetter and he sank to the floor, clutching his compressing chest. Above him, the evil Magician was in awe of the crimson glow in his hands as the Celeste met with the six sister diamonds, causing their charge. Under them, the ground shook, the tremors dislodging the support posts of the building Hannes lived in. He could hear the windows shattering under the growing earthquake as the floor fell away in large chunks of concrete and steel rods.

Outside, the seismic activity increased six-fold, shaking the whole of Antwerp as ground zero, and then crawling along the earth’s surface in all directions. Soon it would arrive in Germany, the Netherlands, and aggravate the ocean floor of the North Sea. Raya got what he’d needed from Hannes, leaving the dying man under the debris of his house. The Magician had to make haste to Austria, to see a man in the Salzkammergut region, claiming to have the most sought after stone after the Celeste.

“See you soon, Mr. Karsten.”