"Gnelf magic," Tanner said.
"That symbol is not a good-luck sign," Danube said. "It's an ancient Sumerian character, one of the symbols of the gates which separate this world from the beyond."
"What? You sound like you're talking about something out of H. P. Lovecraft."
"It goes back further than pulp magazines, Mr. Tanner. Mr. Lovecraft created his mythos based on ancient wisdom. Some have speculated he was a student of Aleister Crowley. The Sumerian symbols are just a part of what I find in this book. Hebrew signs are here also … the mark here"—he held up another page which showed a symbol carved into the trunk of a tree the Gnelfs were walking past—"is the sign of Shomer Dappim. He is a demon, the guardian of books and pages. He would exact vengeance on someone who left a holy book open."
"What you're telling me is that there are hex signs in this book?"
"Various symbols, not hex signs. The point is these markings incorporated into the artwork are based upon actual symbols and are not just random creations of the artists."
"Somebody is throwing real occult symbols into children's books?" Tanner said. "You know a few years ago they caught Mighty Mouse snorting coke."
"I have heard about subliminal messages. No this is real, Mr. Tanner. I do not know why these images are here, but they are real."
"And these markings are what's affecting Heaven?"
"No, the symbols are not, in and of themselves. If they worked that way, every child who had one of these books would be subject to something similar."
"Then what are you getting at?"
"Somehow these images are being used. Heaven is a target. Why is the question."
"A child her age can't have any enemies, no preschool witches."
"Then I guess we had better talk to Mrs. Davis about who might be angry at her."
They returned to the living room, presenting the book to Gabrielle so that she could examine the markings. Danube briefly explained what he had told Tanner.
"Someone is putting curses into children's books?"
"Not curses. Symbols. That can be used to make curses."
"Couldn't this be something like the stigmata?"
"It could be, but it is not," Danube said stoically. "Now will you consider who might be angry at you? Who might want to harm you by hurting your daughter."
“I can't think of anyone." Her eyes closed, and she shook her head. "Except David."
Tanner frowned. "Your ex-husband?"
"I can't believe he would try to hurt Heaven," she said.
"Was he angry about the divorce? Your leaving?”
“He ran away. He went out to California."
Danube looked at Tanner. "This material, it is produced in California?"
The writer nodded. "At Gnelf Inc."
"Have you been in contact with your husband since this began?" Danube asked.
"He hasn't answered the phone."
Danube ran a hand across his beard. "You have an address for him?"
"If he's still there."
"Perhaps I should pay him a visit."
"You won't hurt him."
"I will only talk to him."
"Don't expect me to cover your expenses."
"That is taken care of. And while I am in California, I can pay a visit to the creators of the Gnelfs as well.”
“You think you can just walk into a cartoon studio?”
“I will make the contacts," Danube said.
"In the meantime, are we safe?" Gab asked. "Or should I expect more of these attacks."
"The symbols are in her mind. Those symbols can be used as gateways to channel many things. It could get worse.”
"What can be done?"
"Let me pray a blessing over her. It will help some."
Gab looked to Tanner for approval. He nodded cautiously, so they carried Heaven into the bedroom. While the child slept, Danube knelt beside her, whispering a soft prayer. Then he spoke a few words in Latin and touched her forehead, gently forming a cross before getting back to his feet.
"Will that ward off the demons?" Gab asked.
"It will help some. You would do well to pray if something more occurs. It should help, if you can summon faith."
"I can try."
She wrote Dave's address down for Danube and followed him and Tanner to the front door. She caught Jake's arm before he exited
"Do you trust him?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"He won't hurt Dave?"
"I don't think so."
"This is so crazy. It can't be real."
"Can't it? What's happened is beyond imagination."
"But to think Dave might have hooked up with some guru or something that could cause harm to Heaven."
"It doesn't sound rational to me either. I deal with stories where all the ends tie up neatly and there's a resolution that makes sense. Still, I guess I have learned in putting twists and turns in my stories that the unexpected has to be figured into the equation."
"And the unexplained?"
"That too."
She kissed him softly. "Thank you, I think, but be careful of him."
"I will."
He walked out the door and met Danube at the edge of the stoop.
"She is not consoled?" Danube asked.
"She doesn't know whether to believe you or not. She doesn't trust anyone about now."
"Unfortunate. I may be the only one who can offer help. If I can gather enough knowledge."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"Yes. Find someone able to interpret more of those symbols."
"You mean a priest or a minister."
"Or a rabbi."
They climbed into the car and Tanner began to coax the engine to life.
"A rabbi?"
"Some of those marks are very ancient."
"Don't you have sources you can draw on? From those who sent you?"
"There is much knowledge housed at the convent. But there is much that is not known, and it’s distant. Often I have to draw on sources I can find close at hand. Someone familiar with the ancient teachings might be able to help. Some of this goes far back beyond the coming of the Nazarene."
"How far back?"
"The beginning of time. Some of those marks come from The Book of Raziel."
"What is that?"
"An ancient book of wisdom. It was supposedly plunged into the depths of the ocean. Over the centuries, fragments of what it contained have surfaced. Whoever put those marks in that artwork was probably exposed to one of the fragments. But there is a chance whoever is using the markings has somehow acquired a true copy of the work."
"So what would that do?"
"It was created by God to do good, yet the knowledge it was reported to contain could be turned around. In the wrong hands it could destroy the universe."
Jake put the car in reverse and eased hack onto the street, turning at the corner at Danube's request to take him back to his hotel.
The tip of the long baculum came down on the sidewalk across the street from Gabrielle's. As long as a shepherd's staff, it bore intricate carvings which covered its dark surface. Narrow at the tip and thick at the top, it might have served its wielder as a club.
The man who held it stared after the car, watching red taillights disappear into darkness.
His long blond hair was pulled into a pony tail, so tightly it seemed his flesh was stretched across the bones of his face, while his gray eyes were masked with a scowl which made his pointed features seem hawklike.
He was dressed all in gray, a pale gray suit and coat that reached to his ankles, a striped shirt and gray tie.
On his hand was a large gold ring with an arcane symbol etched into its texture. That ring now twitched as he adjusted his grip on the staff. He let his breath escape slowly through clenched teeth.
His name was Simon.
Chapter 10
Tanner awoke just as the morning sun began to send slivers of light through the crack between the curta
ins. He had not slept well, and the intrusion pierced his consciousness with ease.
The sweat from his nightmares had dried to a sticky coating on his body, and his eyes felt swollen and watery. He took a quick shower before dressing. The water’s hot needles washed away the sticky feeling, but they couldn't take away his apprehension.
He was a bit excited about doing something tangible to help Gabrielle and Heaven, however, and the legwork also represented a chance to break the monotony of his work routine.
He'd held many different jobs while hammering away at his novels until gradually he began to make a living from just the books. Once he'd achieved his goal of writing fulltime he had discovered how lonely it could be. He spent his days in his home, tapping at the keys and breaking the tedium with television and paperbacks.
He'd always expected something different if he was lucky enough to publish. He had expected it to be relaxing and liberating—and it was, but liberty could be quite boring.
He talked occasionally to his editor and sometimes to his agent, made occasional trips to the book stores to chat with the clerks and see how sales of his books were going, and performed the necessities of life with a mechanical precision.
Groceries were purchased on Tuesdays, laundry was done on Wednesday, and house cleaning was spread out over Thursday, Friday, and Saturday between chapters. He wrote every day, struggling through intricate plots he outlined on legal pads and note cards.
Sometimes he went over to the lounge at the Clairmont, where the reporters from the Clarion gathered. On occasion, if he needed to do research, he hit the police hangouts. He did that less and less frequently now because many of the cops did not like the way policemen were portrayed in his books.
He let himself think about Gabrielle as he fixed a quick breakfast. There was something between them; that was evident. The intangible attraction that drew people together, the feeling that transcended common interest or simple emotion.
He had not been in love in a long time. He had seen women, had spent months in relationships, believing that his emotions had numbed and that he would not feel intensely again. When those relationships ended, he did not mourn them for long, but he sometimes wondered if he was destined to spend his life that way.
Now he wondered if some mechanism of fate had connected him with Gabrielle at this strange moment in her life. She needed his help, and perhaps that would ultimately mean something. Perhaps they would build something out of all this pain, and perhaps in some way fate or maybe even God was calling him to help her.
He had the time because he was ahead of schedule on his book, and he had experience in research, so perhaps it would all come together.
After breakfast, he drove by a book shop near his house and picked up a copy of the Gnelfland Bedtime Storybook which was on a CHILDREN'S BESTSELLER shelf.
He took the book with him over to the B'nai Israel temple.
The rabbi was a thin man whose dark hair was thick and curly, and he wore wire-rimmed glasses which gave him a boyish look even though he was around forty. He had slipped off the coat of his dark suit and had rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt as he worked in a small auditorium.
"Rabbi Benjamin Estleberg, I'm not sure if you've heard of Jake Tanner," the secretary said.
"You're the mystery writer. What can I do for you?"
"Sorry to drop in unannounced. I'm doing a little research." He left it at that, no need to lie.
"I've got time for a few questions," the rabbi said. "I'm just trying to get things ready for a temple youth program."
He sat down on the edge of the stage and invited Tanner to sit beside him. "What I'm looking into deals with symbols," Tanner said, slowly easing the book out of its plastic bag. "It may look silly, but a friend pointed out to me that this children's book has some genuine symbols in it. I find that kind of interesting."
"Let me see."
Estleberg carefully flipped through the pages. He spotted a couple of the symbols himself and nodded when Tanner pointed out a few others which were more obscure.
"Interesting indeed," the rabbi said. "These are very old, not something you'd find in the Talmud or the Torah. You’cw heard of the Kabbalah? Sometimes it's spelled with a C and sometimes with a K.”
“Madonna studies it."
"It isn't ancient itself, but it deals with old concepts. Some of these markings are quite odd. Some I've never seen. I wonder if the creators were Jewish? You know the ‘live long and prosper' sign in Star Trek is Jewish, Mr. Tanner. That’s Jewish. I once used it on a flyer when I was a campus rabbi to draw interest"
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. You'll see it on the front of the Torah, the scrolls, here at the Temple. It means shalom, and I believe it was Nimoy, who is Jewish, who contributed the salute. It could be that something similar has taken place here. The artists wanted their symbols to look realistic, so they drew on things they had seen somewhere or other."
"Possibly so. But do you have any way of tracing the meanings of these things?"
"Good question. I might be able to help you with some of them."
They walked back through the hallways to the rabbi's office where he pulled out a few scholarly volumes and began to flip browning pages. The smell of old paper touched Tanner's nostrils as the rabbi adjusted his glasses and peered down.
"Many of these things deal with evil of one sort or another," Estleberg said. "The Kabbalah was devoted in part to speculation about evil. It speaks of the Sitra Ahra or the world beyond, the evil realm. I'm simplifying a great deal, but you may find some commonality with your own background. You are what? A Protestant, a Catholic?"
"Protestant."
"You have had some introduction to the notion that the devil, created by God, was cast out of heaven then?"
“Yes.”
"In the Kabbalah there is also teaching about the destruction of the realms God created which concentrated on judgment without mercy. They were done away with, but the remainder of those worlds is now supposedly a basis for evil. Some writers attributed personification to that evil, hence the discussion about demons and devils."
"I'm not sure I follow you."
"You're talking about a broad realm of writing encompassing more than a thousand years. It is mysticism and speculation, much of it compiled in the dark ages. It discusses demons of many sorts who plague man. Many of these symbols, which are not particularly part of the Kabbalah, no doubt make an effort to keep the demons on their side of the wall, so to speak."
Tanner nodded. It coincided with what Danube had said.
"Walls or gates?"
"Gates, I guess. Yes."
"So there could be keys?"
"Indeed there could."
"Keys to be found in some other book?"
"Perhaps, yes."
The rabbi closed the volume. "Many of these markings are not familiar to me."
"Keys would be forbidden markings. Symbols used to open the way for evil."
"Indeed."
"So some of these could be that?"
"Perhaps."
"Have you ever heard of The Book of Raziel?"
"Oh, yes. You're speaking about something even further back in mythology. Supposedly it was taken away from man and plunged into the depths of the ocean.”
“I've heard that. Why was it taken away?"
"I don't know."
"Perhaps because its contents included keys, and someone misused those."
"Perhaps, yes."
"Theoretically these markings could be keys?"
"Yes. If someone had somehow found the book.”
“The keys, then, could be used?"
"To unleash the powers from the other realm, Mr. Tanner? You have a very good imagination. You must be working on a supernatural suspense tale."
"Just trying to make sure I understand it all.”
“You would have to study a long time to grasp everything. Scholars have devoted ages to all of this material.”
�
�I think some things are falling into place for me," Tanner said. Though the rabbi had mainly served to confirm Danube's speculation, Tanner did have a better understanding. But he was looking for something more. "How much of this is real?"
"It's not something that we deal with regularly, Mr. Tanner. Just as Christians don't do exorcisms that often. This teaching goes far back into history, and there are many modern concerns we have to be about. Who is to say what was real to our ancestors? We don't deal much in mysticism these days."
"But someone taking it seriously, someone seeking to unlock the gates could conceivably be dangerous."
"I would think someone trying to perform magic would be a bit questionable, yes."
Especially if he succeeded, Tanner thought.
Marley was sipping his morning coffee and thinking about his sermon for Sunday when Althea arrived at his office. He stood up and smiled, offering her coffee. She declined that and his offer to sit.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
“Have you talked to Mrs. Davis again yet?"
“Not this morning."
"There's something very unusual about all this. It may be in your field."
He smiled and lifted his coffee cup. "Is the celebrated agnostic and skeptic acknowledging there's something she doesn't understand?"
"It's not funny, Marley. Something happened to me last night. It was like things were out of control. Like, well, like someone playing a cruel prank. Except there was no one there."
"I don't follow you," the minister said.
"Something I couldn't see, a force or something, dragged me through a pile of shattered glass. I say it was like a prank or joke because my ass took the worst of it."
"What?"
She recounted the events. "I had to go get stitches, and that was embarrassing. The techs at the emergency room kept snickering, and it hurt."
"Are you sure you didn't just stumble and sit down on the bulb?"
"I wish that was what happened. Are you turning skeptic now? I'm telling you, Marley, something dragged me. You're always talking spiritual warfare, give me answers.”
Her tone convinced him she wasn't in the mood for their usual banter.
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