of any of the senses results in pain and
physical as well as psychical damage.”
“We’re talking about a couple of mad alchemists, remember. They did not approach the problem
the same way modern scientists do. Sylvester tried to achieve the goal through chemistry.”
“The founder’s formula. I remember my father mentioning it. But surely that is just another
Arcane legend.”
“I cannot say.” Griffin leaned down to unlock the trunk. “But I do know that my ancestor was
more of an engineer. He was skilled in crystals and metals. He forged the lamp with the intention
of using its radiation to make himself more powerful. But when the device was completed he
discovered that he needed a dreamlight reader to manipulate the energy he had succeeded in
trapping inside the thing.”
“Someone like me.”
“He found such a woman.” Griffin opened the trunk and contemplated the drawers built into
each side. “Her name was Eleanor Fleming. According to the journal, Nicholas seduced her into
working the device for him on three different occasions.”
“Why didn’t he just offer to pay her for her efforts?”
“He did. But the price she demanded was marriage. Nicholas had no intention of marrying a poor
woman from a much lower class.”
“So he lied to her.”
“He agreed to the bargain, or so the story goes. He most certainly slept with her and produced
offspring. I am living proof that that aspect of the legend is true. But because they had a sexual
relationship there are still those within Arcane who believe that such an intimate connection is
necessary before the artifact can be activated.”
Memories of the night in the brothel slammed through her. She swallowed hard and then cleared
her throat.
“Do you believe that?” she asked evenly.
“No, of course not.” He glanced back at her, amused. “Calm yourself, Mrs. Pyne. I have no
designs on your ever so respectable virtue. From my reading of the journal, it’s clear that a
physical link of some kind is probably necessary, but I’m certain that it need not be anything
more personal than a touching of the hands.”
“I see.” She told herself she should be greatly relieved. And she was. Most certainly. Ruthlessly
she crushed the little flicker of excitement that had ignited somewhere deep inside her. “But you
say there are those who are convinced that a more, ah, intimate connection is required?”
“You know how it is with legends, Mrs. Pyne. One way or another, a sexual encounter of some
sort is always involved in the tale.”
A great mystery had just been solved, although Griffin could not know it. After all this time, she
finally understood why Smith had been determined to rape her that night thirteen years ago. He
had believed that sexual intimacy with a dreamlight reader was required before he could acquire
the powers of the artifact.
“What is it,” she asked cautiously, “that makes you so certain that you are in danger of becoming
an unstable multitalent?”
“Facts, Mrs. Pyne. I assure you, I base my concerns on hard evidence.”
“Such as?”
“I came into my second talent a few weeks ago.”
“Good heavens. You can’t be serious, Mr. Winters.”
“It was accompanied, just as the journal warned, by nightmares and hallucinations.”
She watched him open a drawer, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Are you telling me
that you have actually developed a new psychical ability?”
“That is exactly what I am saying, madam.” He glanced curiously at the stack of old newspaper
clippings and colorful advertising flyers he had uncovered.
“Not that drawer,” she said quickly. “The next one down. What is your second talent?”
He closed the drawer full of papers and opened the one below it. “Let’s just say that it is
unpleasant.”
“Mr. Winters, under the circumstances, I think I am entitled to something more in the way of an
explanation. Do you refer
physical as well as psychical damage.”
“We’re talking about a couple of mad alchemists, remember. They did not approach the problem
the same way modern scientists do. Sylvester tried to achieve the goal through chemistry.”
“The founder’s formula. I remember my father mentioning it. But surely that is just another
Arcane legend.”
“I cannot say.” Griffin leaned down to unlock the trunk. “But I do know that my ancestor was
more of an engineer. He was skilled in crystals and metals. He forged the lamp with the intention
of using its radiation to make himself more powerful. But when the device was completed he
discovered that he needed a dreamlight reader to manipulate the energy he had succeeded in
trapping inside the thing.”
“Someone like me.”
“He found such a woman.” Griffin opened the trunk and contemplated the drawers built into
each side. “Her name was Eleanor Fleming. According to the journal, Nicholas seduced her into
working the device for him on three different occasions.”
“Why didn’t he just offer to pay her for her efforts?”
“He did. But the price she demanded was marriage. Nicholas had no intention of marrying a poor
woman from a much lower class.”
“So he lied to her.”
“He agreed to the bargain, or so the story goes. He most certainly slept with her and produced
offspring. I am living proof that that aspect of the legend is true. But because they had a sexual
relationship there are still those within Arcane who believe that such an intimate connection is
necessary before the artifact can be activated.”
Memories of the night in the brothel slammed through her. She swallowed hard and then cleared
her throat.
“Do you believe that?” she asked evenly.
“No, of course not.” He glanced back at her, amused. “Calm yourself, Mrs. Pyne. I have no
designs on your ever so respectable virtue. From my reading of the journal, it’s clear that a
physical link of some kind is probably necessary, but I’m certain that it need not be anything
more personal than a touching of the hands.”
“I see.” She told herself she should be greatly relieved. And she was. Most certainly. Ruthlessly
she crushed the little flicker of excitement that had ignited somewhere deep inside her. “But you
say there are those who are convinced that a more, ah, intimate connection is required?”
“You know how it is with legends, Mrs. Pyne. One way or another, a sexual encounter of some
sort is always involved in the tale.”
A great mystery had just been solved, although Griffin could not know it. After all this time, she
finally understood why Smith had been determined to rape her that night thirteen years ago. He
had believed that sexual intimacy with a dreamlight reader was required before he could acquire
the powers of the artifact.
“What is it,” she asked cautiously, “that makes you so certain that you are in danger of becoming
an unstable multitalent?”
“Facts, Mrs. Pyne. I assure you, I base my concerns on hard evidence.”
“Such as?”
“I came into my second talent a few weeks ago.”
“Good heavens. You can’t be serious, Mr. Winters.”
“It was accompanied, just as the journal warned, by nightmares and hallucinations.”
She watched him open a drawer, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Are you telling me
that you have actually developed a new psychical ability?”
“That is exactly what I am saying, madam.” He glanced curiously at the stack of old newspaper
clippings and colorful advertising flyers he had uncovered.
“Not that drawer,” she said quickly. “The next one down. What is your second talent?”
He closed the drawer full of papers and opened the one below it. “Let’s just say that it is
unpleasant.”
“Mr. Winters, under the circumstances, I think I am entitled to something more in the way of an
explanation. Do you refer
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