The Memorist

Chapter 17

Vienna, Austria

October 25^th, 1814

Dear Beloved,

You may never find this letter, my Antonie, but as I write it, I can picture you visiting your cousins at their country house in the Vienna woods and your surprise when my boy delivers this gift. I imagine you opening it and seeing the note in my handwriting and hope it made you smile fondly and remember the sweetness of our times together; the words we spoke, the music I played, the deep abiding emotions we shared.

I can picture one of your children coming in and interrupting you and you putting the box on a side table in the drawing room and attending to your family-perhaps even showing them the gift and suggesting you all might want to play some of the games.

You wouldn’t have wondered at my odd choice of a gift because you are not a suspicious person. You take the moment and make love to it and live it the way I live my music. But ask questions? Be curious? Not really. That’s why I have chosen you as its recipient. That and because more than anyone I trust you, if the day comes, to do the right thing with my most important secrets.

Did you try playing any of the games inside? Most of them would not have given you pause. Except for one of them. What did you think? That my gift was defective? And what did you make of my request that you keep the token for remembrance’s sake even if it did not please you? Romantic that you were, romantic that I trust you still are, I’m certain you did as I asked.

Now you will understand the true reason for my request.

If you are reading this, it is because I have died unexpectedly.

My friend and longtime patron, Archbishop Rudolf, has a sealed letter he has sworn he will only open if my death is suspicious. In it I have told him to come to you and ask to see the gaming box. My other most noble and trusted friend, Stephan, has a letter with similar instructions-to read only if my death is suspicious. His missive contains instructions on how to open the false bottom that contains this letter but without telling him where the box is. Only telling him to go to Rudolf and trust him.

So here, my friends, now that you are all together, now that you have opened the box, here is what I have done.

I have hidden a flute and its music. The flute was given to me by the Society of Memorists in hopes I could decipher the song that they believed would open a passage to the past and show us our previous incarnations. Having been able to decipher the music and having experimented with it, I’ve seen firsthand how extremely dangerous it is. Much too valuable and dangerous to put in the hands of men who want to use it for nefarious gain. At the same time too valuable to mankind to be destroyed. So I have chosen to tell you three, lest the secret be lost forever.

Herewith are the clues to where the flute is hidden.

The gaming box holds the heart of the puzzle, and the key to that puzzle is yours, Rudolf, to find.

Once found, Stephan, you will be able to unlock the treasure because it is already in your possession.

As for the music, Antonie, you alone will understand this. I’ve done the only thing I could with the music and have given it to our lord and savior. The same who sanctified and blessed our love.

One more note. Antonie, if you find this letter by happenstance, please put it away, forget you read it and don’t try to decipher it or attempt a treasure hunt on your own at any cost.

Know that I take pleasure in the memory of everything we have been to each other. Those memories bring me solace. I miss you still. I think of you always with my very heart and all of my soul. And I do believe in the soul. More now than I ever imagined. I have looked into mine and I have seen a great many things there: joy and sadness, opportunity found and lost, but the greatest gift is that I’ve seen your soul there. I know now that as humans, we don’t even begin to know what we know, and if we did, we would be so burdened with it, our very future would be at risk.

LVB