He was the most learned man in England, and the one thing he could not do was the one thing he wanted. For thirty years John Dee had prayed and stared into the glass, and it had shown him nothing but his own face. Then a young man with a false name and a cap he never removed looked into the stone to work a fraud, and saw something look back.
What the angels offered was the language spoken before the Fall, the tongue in which to name a thing is to command it. Dee wrote down every word. He did not know that each word is paid for out of the speaker: a year here, a memory there, a face, a name struck from every record. His scryer could see the price, and had begun to lie about it, because the lie was the only mercy left.
He would give the whole of himself for one true word from heaven, and he would be answered, and the bill would come due page by page, until a man who wanted above all to be remembered had arranged, without knowing it, to be forgotten.
*From the world of The Falcon's Binding: the magus of Mortlake, the angel language that answered him, and the price of being heard.*
