to tell no one. That would ensure everyone knew that Ryu and I were chaste, and just friends, within an hour.
‘What do we do first, Caleb?’ I asked.
‘The first step, according to Theophrastus, seems to be that you make a stone.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘A stone?’
‘Yes. A stone.’
My mind was sifting through everything it knew about alchemy, which wasn’t much. But I had read Harry Potter.
‘Like the philosopher’s stone?’ I remembered Googling the title of Rowling’s book when it had come out, and had gotten a bunch of hits on the real definition of a philosopher’s stone, which was a term from alchemy.
‘What’s a philosopher’s stone?’ Ryu said.
‘It’s this thing alchemists tried to create. It was sort of their holy grail. A stone that would make you immortal, right?’ I turned to Caleb for confirmation.
‘Yes. But this isn’t quite a philosopher’s stone, although there must have been some kind of connection in Theophrastus’s mind.’
‘Okay…?’ I said, totally confused at this point.
‘I actually found a journal article on this poem, from 1920,’ Caleb said, ‘that I think will help you understand. Here’s the part we need right now: “Divest lead or copper of its soul and spirit, endow the resulting body with a soul and spirit of a higher type and the result is gold. The change from the black of lead or the red of copper to the yellow of gold could not, however, be accomplished directly. The base metal must first be brought to the whiteness of silver before projection of the stone can produce gold.”’
‘Huh?’ I said.
‘Listen again,’ said Caleb, and then he repeated the lines from the journal article, after which he summarized what he thought it meant. ‘What this professor has interpreted is that this is a two-step process, involving first tackling the white, or making the base metal into silver, before you can tackle the red, or making the silver into gold.’
‘’Kay,’ I said. ‘But where does the stone come in?’
‘Sorry, that was just the first bit. Here’s Theophrastus’s actual translation:
The white, augmented thrice within a fire,
In three days’ time is altogether changed
To lasting yellow and this yellow then
Will give its hue to every whitened form.
This power to tinge and shape produces gold
And thus a wondrous marvel is revealed.’
‘And the marvel is…’ Ryu said.
‘The stone,’ replied Caleb. ‘Here’s the next bit:
Though not a stone, it yet is made a stone
From metal, having three hypostases,
For which the stone is prized and widely known;
Yet all the ignorant search everywhere
As though the prize were not close by at hand.
Deprived of honor yet the stone is found
To have within a sacred mystery,
A treasure hidden and yet free to all.’
I sat back on the sofa, rubbing a hand over my eyes.
‘I’m hearing nothing that makes any sense, Caleb,’ I said, feeling bone-weary. ‘I’m hearing stuff that sounds like it might have something to do with everything, and yet I don’t understand any of it. Help.’
The satyr smiled knowingly. I could imagine him standing in front of a blackboard in a university, except for the whole naked-with-goat-haunches thing.
‘I’ve been poring over this, cross-referencing it to other things, looking at other translations and other alchemical poems that seem to fit this same model. And I think I’ve got it. You ready?’
I leaned forward, my turn for impatience as I made a perfunctory gesture with my hands to hurry up the satyr.
‘You’ve gotta get your hands on the White’s old bones. Then we have to perform a three-day ritual, the details of which I’m working out from the next part of the poem, with the help of this journal article. It’s like the guy wrote it with us in mind.’
Before I could say that idea was ridiculous, I thought about everything I’d seen when in thrall to the universe. If a human poet could become its puppet, scribbling away at a crazy metaphorical dragon-to-gold scheme, why couldn’t a scholar, working diligently to translate and make sense out of the poem?
I had a moment’s pang for all those vessels of the universe, toiling at what must have seemed to others like mad whims.
Caleb continued. ‘What I do know so far is that the ritual we’ll do involves the sea, and fire. At the end of all this stuff, the bones are going to yield a stone. Then we have to get ahold of the White itself and use the stone on him. The stone will transmute the White’s essence, and I’m thinking it’s going to take it into itself.’
‘Wait,’ I interrupted. ‘Whose essence? The