NICE FRANCE, 1937
Fulvia Antoinette Deadlocke was born on the thirteenth of January in nineteen hundred and ten at one-twenty-seven post meridian. She was the daughter of Tréphine and Conomar Deadlocke, wealthy merchants in the city of Nice on the Cote d’Azur in southern France.
She was the eldest of three sisters, named Elodie Marie and Manon Selucie, each in that order of age so that Elodie was four years younger than Fulvia, and Manon was two years younger than Fulvia.
Fulvia’s father, Conomar, had grown very rich in the textile industry and hoped to make good matches for his lovely daughters. From youngest to eldest, each was prettier than the last, and the first was so very pretty in the eyes of all who knew the Deadlockes that by the time a guest was introduced to Fulvia, he was entirely convinced that he had met the three most beautiful women who could exist.
Now the Marquis of Languedoc was an old, powerful, ludicrously wealthy man. His wealth put Conomar to shame with its opulence. The Marquis’ name was Gilles de Rais, and he was also a great Alchemist. His work with substances over many years had caused his hair to become ultramarine. His eyebrows, beard, and even the hair on his chest were a luminescent blue.
The Marquis was desirous of marrying one of Conomar’s daughters. He could not outright refuse the Marquis but devised a clever agreement so that if any one of Conomar’s daughters should willingly agree to the marriage, then it would take place. Conomar was sure that would never happen because they were all very beautiful and bright and didn’t need a stuffy old husband with lots of money.
Besides, the Marquis was infamous for having had six wives, all of whom had died under suspicious circumstances. And there had never been a viewing of the bodies after their passing; the caskets were always sealed.
The Marquis invited each of Conomar’s daughters to his grand palace. He had them fetched in a carriage gilt in gold, and they were ushered in over marble steps to damask-covered halls. There was all manner of entertainment, troubadours, poets, and the finest meals.
Each sister was not terribly impressed, for although the Marquis was more wealthy than their father, he was old and ugly, and his beard was unsettling. However, each of Conomar’s daughters was not rude and didn’t say what she thought about him. She said that although she really wanted to marry him, she must refuse due to her love for her older sister, as the next eldest was so much more deserving.
Elodie said this of Manon, and when Manon was brought, she said the same for Fulvia, and when Fulvia was brought, she said this of Elodie, so it was in a great circle that each deferred.
Now each sister was more beautiful than the next; this was already said, but also, each was more talented than the next. Elodie played the lute with such a mastery of improvisation that troubadours from the four corners of the world came to her for lessons. Manon was a brilliant poet who could weave words like fine silk. Fulvia was so well-read that even at sixteen, she could discourse originally on all contemporary topics. By the age of twenty-six, she was inventing new philosophies and giving educated lectures.
The Marquis hatched a better scheme to marry one of the girls and invited each in turn. First, the Marquis invited the best musicians and lyricists for Elodie, but this failed, as they all declared Elodie the most fantastic that ever lived. Next, for Manon, he invited all the world’s best poets. But they were no match for Manon’s skills, and all of the poets declared Manon to be the greatest of the age.
Then the Marquis invited Fulvia and spent the day with her. He was the world’s foremost Alchemist, and instead of trying to dazzle her with wealth or entertainment, he overwhelmed her with the depth of his knowledge. So he talked away his blue hair, and he talked away his wrinkles, and he talked away his past wives, and Fulvia consented to marry him in the hopes that she could gain his knowledge.
Now the Marquis had every book that had ever been written on the topic of Magic and Alchemy for the last twenty thousand years. So many books that were so valuable that they were locked on seven floors beneath his castle.
One day the Marquis had to travel on some business to Paris, so he left his new wife at their home and gave her his large ring of seven keys. He told her that each key would open lower levels of his library successively, and she could go into each level and read the books as she pleased. Only the last key, which was thin and enchanted, was for the final level and had no books at all but was his private room. The Marquis made Fulvia promise she would not enter his private room and keep the key safe from harm.
On the first day, she opened the first level, and there were many books, including The Necronomicon by the Mad Arab Abdul Alhazred. Fulvia had always wanted to read it, so she opened it to a random place and read the story of Sir Everett Ward.
Ward was the only known human to have opened a portal to Tulzscha’s realm and met with the dancing green flame. There he learned the ancient art of recalling spirits from the burnt ashes of their bodies. Spirits that were so real they could walk, talk, and even perform tasks and affect the world.
The Mad Arab detailed the rites used and the sacrifice made, and Fulvia thought it was simple and elegant, and she mouthed the words written until she felt she had properly sounded them out.
On the second day, she opened the next level and found the secret work of Fulcanelli, the alchemist. She was entertained by his tales of les soufleurs and the secrets hidden in the Cathedrals, the language of the birds, and the cant of the Argonauts.
On the third day, she opened the next level and found a book on the many dimensions that can be made and of the strange beasts that sometimes fall through the window between our dimension and theirs, like the Skinwalker and the Grunch. It talked about the shadows and wraiths that one could meet through the looking glass in the dimension without colour.
On the fourth day, she opened the next level and found a book that detailed the rites of the dreaming god, Cthulhu, locked away in his cyclopean keep in R’lyeh, and of the many cults that worship him, and want to wake him to bring about Armageddon, and punish all those who persecute them and make it so their rites and ways must be hidden.
On the fifth day, she opened the next level and found a book about the Elder Gods’ seals, how magic works, and the Three Laws of Magic. First, it explained how people must willingly participate in magic. It explained how taking one thing means you must replace it with another. Finally, it explained how whatever you do with magic must be flawed. These laws were named The Law of Suspicion, The Law of Equivalence, and The Law of Salvation.
On the sixth day, she opened the next level and found a book that told the history of the Elder Things, of the different races who had risen on the earth and served the Elder Gods, of the Anunaki and the Elohim, and the Nephalim and many others. There were stories of large ovoid creatures with five-pointed star-shaped mouths, tentacles, and membranous wings. Beings that created the Shoggoths, cellophanous blobs that could twist into any useful shape or tool. Great hairy giants as tall as a house who lived in great Baobab trees taller than Everest. Of four meter tall Mantids who worshipped an insectoid draconid.
It was all so fascinating, and she wanted to learn more as she was a very curious young woman. She suspected that in the seventh level, there must be the real secret books, the books that could teach her powers and knowledge like her husband, and so she forgot her promise not to enter the level, and she took the thin key and slid it into the lock and the door flew open.
The smell that rushed out to meet her was foul; it burned the back of her throat and turned her stomach in knots.