Vampire a Go-Go

THE BAD ALCHEMIST
(PRAGUE 1599)
ELEVEN

I am the ghost of Edward Kelley.

I am-was-an alchemist at the court of Holy Roman Emperor Rudolph II.

Impressed yet? Wait until you hear the rest of the story.

Okay, let me slow down lest I get ahead of myself. One thing at a time.

First let us address this idea of a “team” of alchemists mentioned by Basil Worshamn. There was no team. There was only me. I suppose if you count the maid who emptied our chamber pots every day and the young girl who brought us refreshment in the afternoons, you might consider we were all part of a team. But mixing just the exact right amount of milk and sugar into a cup of tea hardly counts as alchemy.

No, the entire team was yours truly, good old long-suffering Edward Kelley.

Man, did I hate being the team.

Dee was the worst sort of boss. Any dim-witted peasant girl could have cleaned the glassware and equipment every night, but Dee insisted that I do it. He trusted almost no one to handle his precious equipment. Make sure those herbs are put up just right, Edward. Don’t heat the mixture in that beaker too long, Edward. Hurry with the monkwort, Edward, we’re losing the moonlight. Measure that sulfur into exact portions, Edward.

Fuck you, Dr. John Dee.

So I was Rudolph’s other alchemist. I mean, I never get any credit. You always hear about Dee. At best, old Edward Kelley is an afterthought. A minor blip in minor historical texts.

And I hate the picture they have of me in the Wikipedia entry. It’s one of those generic old man pictures with some fucked-up hat like I’m half wizard and half Oxford professor. One of those long Gandalf beards. As if.

Look, there I am now. Young and strong and up to no good. Zoom in there at that window in the White Tower where my room is. Come have a look.

Come hear my story.