The Page 69 Test: "Chalice of Darkness"

Sarah Rayne is the author of many novels of psychological and supernatural suspense, including the Nell West & Michael Flint series.

She lives in Staffordshire.

Rayne applied the Page 69 Test to her new novel, Chalice of Darkness, Book One of the Theatre of Thieves series, and reported the following:

I did find it remarkable – even slightly eerie – how page 69 of Chalice of Darkness homes straight in on the core of the plot – on the description of the Chalice itself when a main character sees it for the first time.

The extract hints at the darkness of the Chalice – at the legend, referred to earlier in the book, that a ‘wrongful’ owner would be dragged into a darkness, ‘from which he or she would never emerge’. This was a medieval way of warning enterprising thieves that if the Chalice were to be stolen, a very bad fate would befall those who stole it. Maude’s reactions to it show that this warning can still reach out – in this case all the way to the end of the 19 th century – the setting for most of the book.
‘I’ve never seen anything so lovely,’ said Maude, softly. The chalice fitted the box very neatly. She carefully lifted it out, and set it on the low table. The sunshine and the firelight fell directly across it, bringing to life the tiny figures engraved into the glass. Some of them had a religious look as if they might be bishops or cardinals engaged in some sacred ceremony; others wore circlets as crowns and held swords aloft, as if poised for battle. Still others were clearly Eastern figures,with exotic costumes and headwear.

The colours were glowing blues and deep reds and rich amber, and around the rim the glass had been formed into thin layers, resembling the petals of a rose. Maude turned it this way and that to see the details more clearly. It was possible to trace with a fingertip the outlines of the engravings – the figures and the swords and religious cups – and to feel and appreciate the silkiness of the glass itself.

‘It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,’ she said at last, but with the words a coldness seemed to brush across her mind. It was almost as if candles had been snuffed or gas jets turned down, draining all light and warmth. That was absurd – sunshine was still streaming in through the old windows of the room, causing the scents of polish from the nice old furniture to drift across the room, and the fire was crackling in the grate. The chalice, still held between her cupped hands, was lit to glowing life. But she had an extraordinary sense that a darkness was creeping closer. When she set the chalice on the table the feeling vanished, though.
Later on the page, a secondary plot-line is touched on – that of the sinister old Bastle House, the building that has already figured in the nightmares of Maude Vallow.
Connor O’Kane handed her the oilskin package. ‘This is the other part of the prince’s gift.’ Inside the package was a document made up of two or three thick pages sewn down the left-hand side with narrow green tape. Attached to the top of the page was a small card, with an engraved name, and a crest. Across it was written in rather sprawling writing:

‘For a very lovely lady and for the memory of our night together at Hymbre House which will always remain with me. E.’

Maude stared at this, then picked up the document. The lettering was elaborate, but it was easy enough to read it. Two names jumped out at her immediately.

Albert Victor Christian Edward Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, the Duke of Clarence and Avondale. And beneath it, Maude’s own name.

‘It’s all couched in legal terms,’ Connor O’Kane was saying, ‘and there’s no punctuation, because legal documents don’t permit that. But I think it’s clear enough.’

It was perfectly clear, and the part that was clearest of all was the sentence that said: ‘To be conveyed absolutely and in perpetuity into the soleownership of Maude Vallow unconditionally for her use as she sees fit all that piece and parcel of ground with the messuage dwellinghouse and other buildings delineated in red on the plan herein and known as The Bastle House in the County of Northumberland.’

Bastle House. The dark nightmare house. The black crouching lodestar she could see from Vallow’s topmost rooms, and that she had always known she would one day approach and enter.

And now she was its owner.
Hopefully the mention of this other strand of intrigue will attract readers’ imaginations and encourage them to read the entire book.