The Library of Forbidden Books

Chapter 1

History has delivered many prophets, many leaders, and misinformed messiahs. They all congregated around the philosophies and dogmas of ancient and modern civilization alike, but by eons of translation and world events they all became lost in antique history, the phantoms of old prophecies, the fathers of desolate doctrine. No more prevalent was it than throughout the past two centuries, when fanatical organizations rose to power and fell just as quickly to the rise of others. But some did not fall. They merely went into deliberate obscurity to commit to their practices in, well, not exactly peace, but unperturbed by any interference.

The Order of the Black Sun was once secret, but now it had become involved in so many aspects of modern propaganda for the promotion of those in search of world domination that it was treading dangerously close to discovery. Too many people have had a brush with the contemporary Nazi society and its relentless pursuit of holy relics to serve its occult devices. It was time, the order decided, to disappear from the world of daylight… for now.

It had been some time since Nina walked the halls of the University of Edinburgh.

Now, as she strolled along George Square to attend an invitational lecture by a prominent new wave maker, she could not help but reminisce about her miserable past as a fellow in the history department. Her desperate attempts at tenure and the consistent sexist torment of her superior, Professor Matlock, was all too vivid in her mind as she stopped for a quick fag before entering the premises. It was early evening in Edinburgh, on the brink of autumn.

Nina lit her cigarette and sucked in the soothing poison to calm her nerves a little before having to face some of the faculty she had abandoned a few years ago after she was so rudely done in. She did not look forward to seeing them again — the backstabbing academic snobs who only cared about bribing their benefactors for name and status.

With everything she had experienced, everything she had survived in the past few years, she could not help but view herself as a higher contributor to history than any of them would ever be. Dr. Nina Gould had lived through what most of her former peers only read about and argued in speculation as to its validity. How many times had she been captured by people said not to even exist on the radar of the modern establishment? How many times had she escaped certain death in the nick of time or discovered magnificent secrets to be true, yet had to subdue her ambition for the sake of her safety and the safety of those near her.

Her dark eyes combed the grounds of the university where she used to spend most of the hours in her days, only to get ahead in her avenue of history. Not only did she specialize in German history, but she had written countless theses on various aspects of the propaganda and progress of political studies pertaining to the influence of Germany in the Second World War.

All this went unnoticed, apparently, because of the careful and swift action of her academic nemesis, Matlock. Thanks to him she never got the credit that was due to her and now here she stood smoking it up outside the gates where she had been cheated.

It was not a pleasant reunion.

Nina pulled up her collar to avert the cold wind from grazing her neck and sucked up the last of her cigarette before flicking it carelessly into the nearby garden soil. Dressed in a tapered double-breasted coat and heeled leather boots, Nina looked like a pretty Russian border soldier. She pulled her knit hat down over her dark hair and proceeded to the main entrance where the other patrons were arriving.

Nobody recognized her, which was a relief, and she made her way up the stairs toward the main auditorium to find her seat almost last of all the attendants. That way Nina made sure she did not end up sitting next to anyone she did not want to see in her next five lifetimes.

The hall was already full of people when she came in from one of the back entrances. Fortunately the last few rows were void of audience, so she picked her own secluded spot in the shadows.

Nina only came because a friend of hers at the Berlin Institute of Germanic and Romance Studies asked her to attend, but she had no idea what the lecture was about, really. Apart from the presentation being that of one Dr. Richard Philips, a rogue scientist and historian from the United States, her friend said little else about the nature of the lecture or why she thought Nina should attend.

Gretchen Lucas, now known as Professor Gretchen Mueller, was a former roommate of Nina’s. They had attended the University of York together where Nina was working on her bachelor of arts degree in history.

Throughout the first years at the University of Edinburgh, Nina kept in constant contact with Gretchen, but as her life started to plummet into the perilous and clandestine world of the Black Sun, Nina started to distance herself more and more from all those she did not want to get involved. After her last misadventure, courtesy of the Nazi cult, Nina promised herself that she was going to start a new life, a safe and normal life away from all the darkness.

For several months she had been back home in Edinburgh, but her decision to sever all ties with the organization and its accomplices had her chasing after something different. It was time to make a clean break, she figured, and there would be no better place to end up than where she started — Oban.

Her hometown beckoned, and she had engaged several estate agencies in the past three months to find her the perfect property to purchase. Of course, being a passionate historian, Nina selected all the old historically rich homes in the small town she once knew like the back of her hand. Now it had changed somewhat, but there was something to be said for one’s birthplace and initial nests of childhood. The familiarity never left her, even though most of her bearings did, when she briefly visited to establish business with the local estate agents in Oban’s newer sections.

She looked forward to moving into her new home, away from the city and its rushed life. Besides, she was now a celebrated researcher and freelance consultant and had no need to remain in the larger academic capital of Scotland anymore. Nina longed for peace and quiet and there was no better place for it than Oban. This one last address was to be her final venture into the grounds of the massive structure she used to frequent, at least for the next few years. She obliged Gretchen’s request in what she construed as personal guilt for her sudden and lengthy absence from their friendship.

While the hall was being filled by the last odds and ends of attendees, Nina saw a most peculiar man staring at her from the other side of the aisle, two rows in front of hers. Without reservation he turned his torso to look at her. There was no-one around Nina, so there was no way she could have misinterpreted his glare. The petite brunette narrowed her eyes at him, engaging him in a juvenile staring contest. Fearless as she was, and indifferent to the opinions of others more than ever, Nina tried to unnerve him with her attention.

In no way did it deter him, which in turn unsettled her somewhat.

In the murmur of the waiting audience she noted his features, just in case she would need to tell him apart from the other creeps she would no doubt run into this night. Like a proper Scottish old gentleman he was well dressed in a brown tweed suit and had removed his fedora and placed it on his lap.

He was bald with slitty eyes and a mouth that looked like a knife wound. His nose was large and troll-like over his clean-shaven upper lip, and his ears were equally reminiscent of an age-old imp. Briefly, he turned to look at another man a few rows from him and Nina perceived a strange thick scar running from the edge of his collar upward onto his head, stopping in a jagged pink tip halfway up his skull’s curvature. The sight of it made her wince inadvertently before she followed the direction of his stare and found that the man he was looking at now also watched her. Then the old gentleman turned to face Nina again, with no indication of a reason why she was the object of their interest. It made her very uncomfortable. For a moment Nina felt that old feeling of foreboding, just as she always did when in the presence of an agent of ill will sent by some rival society.

The lights dimmed and both men turned to face the stage.

A dean she had never seen before appeared in the spotlight and announced the guest.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is indeed an honor for the University of Edinburgh to host the main lecture of renowned American parapsychologist, historian, and philosopher, Dr. Richard Phillips, gracing our Scottish shores all the way from Connecticut,” the impeccably dressed man said, as his perspiring face glinted in the light. “I am sure we are all very excited to be enlightened this evening, to probe the underlying consciousness of science, still a subject of great debate on the academic front.”

Nina watched the old man and his colleague intently, considering leaving the auditorium to evade them. She did not care if she felt paranoid in thinking thus. It was better to avoid trouble than to brave the unknown intentions of what could be those kind of people again.

Briskly she rose from her seat with such stealth that she seemed no more than a shadow while the applause filled the hall. Keeping her eye on the EXIT sign, Nina crept quickly along the row of seats and made her escape.

Outside the weather was unruly and she had to pull her coat collar up as she stepped out from the main doors of the auditorium. In the reflection of the glass doors she could discern a figure on her trail, but she was not ready to find out if the person was following her or just happened to be there. Nina elected to use the smaller side gate next to the building to hail a taxi, hoping that there was one readily available. The streets were alive with passing traffic and sharp headlights blinded the small brunette as she left the university premises, the wind whipping the lengthy curls of her hair. Now and then she cast a glance back to see if she was being followed, a habit she had cultivated through the last few years.

A big silver SUV stopped in front of her and the door clicked open slightly. From inside she heard a woman’s voice, “Nina! Get in.”

Nina was amazed to see Gretchen’s face, beaming with delight at seeing her. She had no idea how happy Nina was to see her as well.

“What the hell are you doing in Edinburgh?” Nina asked her, astonished at seeing her old friend.

“I came to visit you while taking in Dr. Phillips’ lecture, you idiot. Why else would I come to this hotbed of ancient rot that held no fond memories? The things I do to see you,” she sighed, her playful manner still the same as it was all those years ago.

“Then why aren’t you in the auditorium?” Nina asked.

“I was, but I saw you leave,” Gretchen said. “Fancy a drink?”