Angelopolis A Novel Page 0,76

But it wasn’t only Rasputin’s recipe that caught her attention.” He ran a finger along the page until it rested upon a drawing of an egg painted in a wash of gold and scarlet.

Vera recognized another egg, this one different from the others, the fourth of the missing eggs she had seen in two days.

“This aquarelle, made by one of the grand duchesses, probably the talented Tatiana, was of great interest to Angela. She believed it to have been copied under the guidance of Rasputin’s predecessor, Monsieur Philippe—the spiritual adviser who undertook to give the tsar and tsarina an heir. You see, it is the Nécessaire Egg, one of the most practical of the eggs, holding all the important toiletry utensils an empress might need. Contrary to what historians believe about the egg, it was wildly expensive to make, with rubies and colored diamonds studding the egg itself and the toilet articles fashioned of gold.”

“It looks,” Vera said, leaning close, “as if there is a snake biting its tail drawn below the egg.”

“Well spotted,” Valko said. “It is something that Angela found intriguing about the egg.”

“This symbol is very well-known,” Sveti offered. “The ouroboros, the alpha and omega, is a sign of death and rebirth, regeneration and new life. The passage below it contains the words of Jesus, ‘I am the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.’ Revelation 22:13.”

“Yes, of course,” Valko said. “In this respect, the Nécessaire Egg is an echo of the Blue Serpent Clock Egg given to Grace Kelly on her wedding day, and one of the most elaborate and lovely of Fabergé’s eggs, a masterpiece made with the quatre couleur technique of gold, diamonds, and royal blue and opalescent white enamel. Most interesting is the diamond-encrusted serpent coiled around the base, its head and tail pointing to the hour on the face of the clock—the ouroboros, the symbol of eternal renewal and immortality.”

“But what does that have to do with a chemical wedding?” Vera asked. “Especially considering the fact that Monsieur Philippe’s sole legacy was Alexandra’s phantom pregnancy.”

Valko smiled and said, “Bear with me. The quest of the alchemist, once upon a time, was to find the Philosopher’s Stone, which supposedly had the power to turn base metals into gold. This has been discredited many times over as an impossible dream of the avaricious and mad. But the Philosopher’s Stone also signified another human desire, a longing so universal, so persistent in culture and mythology as to be considered integral to the human psyche: The Philosopher’s Stone was believed to be a panacea with properties that could grant eternal life.”

“The Elixir of Life,” Azov said.

Valko continued. “It has gone by many names throughout history: Aab-Haiwan, Maha Ras, Chasma-i-Kausar, Amrita, Mansorovar, Soma Ras. The earliest written records of such a phenomenon emerge in China and denote a substance that is made of liquid gold. In Europe the substance often took on the properties of water, and many well-known drinks that soothed the body were called Water of Life, in French eau de vie, in Gaelic whiskey. There is a biblical precedent to this as well in John 4:14: ‘But whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’”

“Is that what you’re growing up here in your garden, Raphael?” Azov asked. “While the rest of us work to fight the Nephilim, you’re concerned about self-preservation?”

“It is not surprising that I would exploit the resources at my disposal to stay alive,” Valko said, his voice soothing. “But I’m afraid that you’re missing the point, my friend, when you say that this is not engaging in our fight. From the moment Vera removed Rasputin’s book from her satchel, I knew what you had come here to do.”

Valko pressed open the book and Vera saw his long fingers frame the heart symbol that had inspired them to travel to Smolyan in the first place.”

“I can imagine the sequence perfectly,” Valko said. “You correctly deciphered Rasputin’s silphium symbol here. And then you turned a few pages and determined that Valkine was all you needed to re-create the medicine of Noah. Voilà, here you are in my home, waiting for it all to come together. But I would like you to take a step back and consider the language of this volume on the whole—including Tatiana’s illustration of the egg and ouroboros. OUR FRIEND, both Monsieur

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