by J. R. Mabry
The threat was implied, and they had all gotten the message. Articiphus spoke. “I want to eat the soul of the man who compels me.”
Richard shook his head. “I will not feed him to you.”
They were clearly rattled, but none of them were budging. Richard began to sweat despite the extreme cold.
“Then promise me this, Priest,” Articiphus said. “That you will intercede in the impending ritual, and that when you do, you will destroy my sigil and free me from the magickian’s thrall.”
Richard nodded. “With a whole heart, that I will do.”
“And promise me that you will never compel me by means of this ring,” Articiphus met his eye.
“Is my word good to you, then?”
“I know your reputation, Priest. In spite of your…eccentricities, you are known to be worthy of trust.”
The friar thought for a long moment. “So long as you threaten no one in my care,” Richard said finally, nodding slowly. “I promise I will not compel you, with this ring nor by any other means.”
“A drop of blood will seal our agreement,” Articiphus flashed him a wry smile.
Greedy fucking bastard, Richard thought, but he reached for his knife just the same.
65
Kat watched Mikael sleeping and played with one of his many stray locks. Terry sat next to her, Dane’s leather bag in front of him. He seemed to have emptied it of Dane’s mundane effects and filled it with the books, journals and internet printouts he had been studying.
Dylan and Susan occupied folding chairs near the door. Susan was knitting, and Dylan was hunched over a bowl of water, a liturgy book balanced on one knee and a salt shaker next to his ear on a bookshelf.
Kat watched him as he did his own sort of magick. “I exorcise thee, creature of water, by the living God, by the holy God, by the omnipotent God, that thou mayest be purified from all evil influence, in the name of the Holy One who is master of angels and of men, whose majesty and glory filleth the whole Earth,” he prayed, reading from the liturgy. “O God, look upon this thy creature of salt and water, pour down upon it the radiance of thy blessing and hallow it with the dew of thy lovingkindness that wherever it shall be sprinkled and thy holy name shall be invoked in prayer, every noble aspiration may be strengthened, every good resolve made firm and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit vouchsafed to us who place our trust in thee; thou who with the son livest and reignest, in the unity of the same Holy Spirit, God throughout all ages of ages. Amen.” He finished and set the liturgy book aside. The bowl of water, however, he kept in his lap, as ready defense against demonic forces.
“So, that’s holy water now?” Kat asked.
“It is,” Dylan answered.
“I thought it would be more…ornate. The ritual, I mean. Or, like, something a cardinal or something had to do.”
“Waal, technically, a cardinal can be a layperson, so there’s been some cardinals that can’t make holy water. But any priest can do it. Ah wonder if deacons can. Ah’ll have to look that up.”
A sudden gust of wind buffeted the converted porch, and the temperature plummeted within a few heartbeats.
“Ah shit,” said Dylan through his teeth. “We got company. This is such a fucking bad idea.”
“Calm down, grasshopper,” Terry said, not looking up from the book he was reading. “Wards are set. Dicky is the only person here in any real danger.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“You know, the weird thing is,” Kat mused, “a week ago, I didn’t even believe in demons.”
“Most Wiccans don’t,” Susan said. “It’s just not part of that paradigm. What’s really odd is that most Christians don’t either, and it is part of ours.”
“What was it C.S. Lewis said?” Dylan asked. “Something about Satan’s greatest trick was convincing the world that he don’t exist?”
“That’s a paraphrase if I ever heard one,” Terry said, turning a page. The lights dimmed as if some large appliance had just turned on. After a moment, they came back full strength.
“What was that?” Kat asked.
“Can’t really say, but mah guess is more demons. Jes’ a different species.”
“Demons have species?” Kat asked.
“About seventeen hundred documented varieties,” Dylan answered her. “’Course some of those are just tribal variants, nothing scientifically distinguishable.”
“Where do they come from?” Kat asked.
“That depends on what mythology yer askin’,” Dylan said, shifting in the folding chair, obviously uncomfortable. “According to the Christian mythos, they all started off as angels, but when Satan rebelled, one-third of the angels joined his rebellion. Ever since then, they’ve either holed up in Hell or been causin’ havoc here on Earth.”
“Where do the Hindus say they come from?” Kat asked.
“Waal, according to the Hindus, the demons used to be the gods. And the gods used to be the demons. It ain’t about who’s morally superior fer them but about who has the most power.”
“Is that really true?” asked Kat, unsure.
“Cross mah heart and swear to Kali,” Dylan crossed himself.
Kat frowned. “That seems weird.”
“Ain’t much about Hinduism that isn’t fucking gloriously weird, in my opinion,” Dylan affirmed.
“Hear, hear,” Terry, said, raising a hand in the air. He turned the last page, scanned the final paragraph, and slammed the book shut.
He looked up. “Are the demons gone yet?”
“Mah guess is that they’re still having appetizers,” Dylan answered.
Just then, his cell phone blared out the staccato horn part from “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out.” “Father Dylan, here,” he answered it, all business.
“Dylan?” the voice was tinny and slightly garbled.
“Tom, dude, is that you?”
“It is. Listen, Dylan, I take it Richard is not there? He’s not answering his phone.”
“Dude, Richard is feeding demons his own blood at the moment,” he said as if it were an everyday event. “But can I help you?”
“Egad,” Tom said. “Well, at least I tried for the proper chain of command. Dylan, I have bad news.”
“This would be that famous third tragedy we’ve all been waiting for, Ah’m guessin’.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, but yes, it’s bad.”
“Waal, Ah’m sittin’ down, so do yer worst.”
“The synod just voted. Dylan, the Order of Saint Raphael has been…excommunicated.”
“Aw shit. Are you shittin’ me? That means we don’t have a bishop. And that means we have no power over the forces of darkness.” He sighed. “An’ just when we have a house full o’ demons, too. Couldn’t be better fuckin’ timing.”
He looked up and saw the wide eyes of everyone in the room, breathlessly hanging on his every word.
“No, Dylan, that’s not what it means,” Bishop Tom said gravely. “You see, the moment they ousted you, I quit. I walked right up to the presiding bishop and handed over my episcopal ring. So, you still have a bishop. You still have me. So maybe we’re a very small church right now, but Jesus said, ‘Wherever two or three are gathered, I am there among them,’ and we are many more than two or three. The forces of darkness do not have the upper hand yet, my friend. We stand together.”
Dylan’s throat swelled, and he swallowed hard to clear it. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Dude, that damn well makes up for it. Thank you for sacrificing…thank you for believin’ in us.”
“I do believe in you, Father Dylan. I’ll want to talk to Richard later, when he’s finished…feeding. I don’t think I want to know. Anyway, blessings to you, my friend.” And Bishop Tom ended the call.
Dylan sat frozen, staring at his cell phone for a few moments.
“What?” Susan demanded. “What did he say?”
Dylan related the substance of the conversation and watched with satisfaction as Susa
n and Terry responded with nearly as much emotion as he had.
Kat said, “I never in my life thought I would like a Catholic bishop, but Tom sounds like a really wonderful guy.”
Susan nodded. “He is. And it was a huge sacrifice for him. We have to invite him for a visit soon.”
“And pay his way,” added Terry.
For several minutes they all sat in silence, too stunned and moved to speak. Finally, Terry sighed. “Should have warded the potty room.”
“You in bad shape yet?” Dylan asked. Susan took up her knitting again.
“Nah, I can hold it. Ought to start cleaning this mess up, though.” He gathered the book and the papers spread out in front of them and lowered them into Dane’s satchel. An odd look came over his face as he did so.
“What’s up, Terry?” Susan asked, looking up at him and noting his expression.
Terry stood up and lowered his left hand into the satchel. Then with his other hand, he touched the bedspread. He looked back and forth from one arm to the other. There was no doubt about it. His left arm was bent at a more acute angle than his right.
“Well…” he said slowly, thinking aloud, “Either my right arm grew shorter overnight, or the bottom of this bag isn’t the bottom of this bag.”
Susan’s needles stopped, and her mouth dropped open.
Terry turned the bag upside down and dumped everything out onto the bed, and partly onto Mikael as well. Then he put both hands into the bag, feeling at the seams around what he had previously supposed to be the bottom. Concentrating, his eyes looked toward Heaven and moved back and forth as he felt.
“Got something,” he said and, grasping a slight leather tongue between his right thumb and forefinger, gave it a pull. He heard a dim click from within the bag, and the tongue gave way. He pulled it up and out of the bag. Attached to it was a false bottom, which he set on the bed beside him.
“Holy shit,” said Dylan. “So, what the fuck is in there?”
Terry reached in again and felt. There seemed to be lot of small pieces of cardboard, almost like—“photos,” Terry said. He pulled up his hand and deposited a handful of photographs on the bedspread.
“I’m almost afraid to look,” Kat said, but she reached for one of them anyway. As she pulled it toward her face, she winced.
“It’s a little boy. He looks like he’s in a cave. His eyes are all puffy, like he’s been crying. He’s got bruises on his face.” She swallowed and looked up. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone who looked as sad as this.” She passed it to Susan.
Terry was looking at another. “This one’s a little girl. She doesn’t look any happier.” He started flipping through them more rapidly. “They’re all kids,” he said.
Susan handed her photo to Dylan, who peered at it intently. “Ah know where this is,” he said. “You, too, Ter.”
Terry nodded. He looked up and met Dylan’s gaze. “These kids are in the Dane catacombs.”
“Damn straight,” Dylan said.
No one spoke. Susan’s mouth tightened and she struggled to keep her composure. “So, I know this is an obvious question,” she began, “but what the hell did he do to those children?”
“I shudder to think,” Terry answered, a chill running up his spine that had nothing to do with the demonic presences.
“The other question,” Kat added, “is why.”
“Do you think he killed them?” Susan asked, reaching for another of the photos.
“Ah’d bet my head on it,” Dylan said. “Ah jes’ hope that’s all he did to them.”
Just then Dylan’s cell phone rang out again. “Jesus, no more bad news, please—we’ve had our three!” He looked at the number on the screen and scowled. Focusing his eyes on his wife’s he flipped open the phone. “Father Dylan, here.”
His face fell as he listened, concern degenerating into shock, and then despair. “When?” he asked. “Did you call the police?” He nodded, still holding Susan’s eyes. She put out a hand to comfort and steady him. “Yes, of course Ah will pray for her. Please let me know if you find out anything, or if Ah can help in any way. Y’all take care of each other. Bye-bye.”
Dylan’s face was ashen as he closed the phone. “It was the Swansons. Ah was supposed to baptize their little girl tomorrow, Jamie. She’s gone missing. They think she was kidnapped.” He picked up one of the photos and spoke through angry and gritted teeth. “Ah’ll bet mah balls Ah know where she is.”
66
Climbing the steps, Richard felt dizzy and weary. “Too much adrenaline, for too long,” he muttered to himself. He knocked on Mikael’s door and opened it a crack. “All’s clear,” he called and opened the door wider.
Everyone seemed to be sitting stock still in stunned silence—not quite the response he was expecting. “Um…we should maybe do a banishing, just to be on the safe—”
“No time,” Terry said, finding his momentum. “We have to move. Now.”
“Dude,” Dylan said, a little shakily, “we know what the third disappearance is gonna be.”
It was a question that had been nagging at Richard for days. “What? And how do you know?” Wearily, he leaned on the door frame for support.
“Li’l Jamie—the girl Ah’m supposed to baptize tomorrow—she’s gone missing. Ah don’t think it’s any accident.”
Richard’s head reeled with the implication. “Children,” he breathed. “Dane’s going to make all the children disappear? That’s just crazy!”
“No, it isn’t,” Kat said, throwing a stack of photos in his direction.
Richard picked up the stack where it landed and studied the bleary Polaroids.
“Looks like he’s already been making children disappear,” Susan said. “Although only God knows why. He’s just going to do it on a much larger scale.”
“Shit,” Richard uttered, and kept repeating it.
“We thought the dogs was the new plague of the Egyptians,” Dylan commented, “but that was just the warm-up. This is the real deal.”
Richard felt a wave of inferiority rise up the back of his brain, but he forced it down with an act of will. Pushing off the door frame, he stood tall and addressed them commandingly. “Let’s mobilize, gang. We’ve got work to do.”
He turned toward Kat and the comatose Mikael. “I worked out an…arrangement with the demon that has been oppressing the two of you. It should be fine. You can leave the house.”
“It should be fine?” Terry repeated. “It should be fine? You mean you don’t know?”
“Look, we made a deal—”
“Great,” sneered Terry, “deals with devils often work out well for everybody.”
“Look, Kat, it’s your choice. If you want to be absolutely safe, you can stay here with Mikael. The room is warded, and we can re-ward the house. I’m just saying I think you’re safe.”
She nodded, taking that in and weighing the danger.
“We know what we gotta do,” Dylan said, “but where are we doin’ it?”
Richard sat on the edge of the bed and felt at the stubble of his beard, thinking. “When I asked Larch that this afternoon, he didn’t know. But I think we have three likely locations. It could be at Kat’s brother’s place in Alameda—it’s pretty much set up for this working. Who knows, the dog working might have been done there as well. Another possibility is the lodge house in the Lower Haight. We didn’t see any circles of invocation, but then we didn’t roll up any oriental carpets, either. The last possible place is one that I really don’t want to visit again,” Richard said, looking at the photos. “I doubt he has any permanent casting circles there, but it wouldn’t take long to spray paint one.”
“Plus, he’s got the kid right there,” Terry said. “I’ll bet she’s locked in his dungeon right now,” he said, waving his hand toward the Polaroids.
“Plus, Dane could control the environment,” Susan said, her brow furrowed in thought. “He took Polaroids of these kids—what do you want to bet he’ll want a souvenir
of this event?”
Richard exhaled. “You’re right. It all points to Dane’s place. Should we split up and cover the other places just in case?”
“Well, dude, Dane’s place is the farthest away. We can check these out and then head over as soon as we’ve verified that nothin’s going on.”
“Okay,” Richard said, “that sounds like a plan. Dylan, you take Kat’s car, and go to her brother’s house right now. Terry, you take Mikael’s sorry excuse for a car and head to the Haight. I’ll pack the kits and head out for Dane’s place in the Geo. If it turns out that they’re at your places, speed dial the rest of us, and we’ll join you pronto. Otherwise, we’ll all meet up at Dane’s in just under an hour.” He looked at his watch. It was ten o’clock. They would have plenty of time.
“What about me?” Kat asked. “Or Susan?”
Susan waved her away. “Our rule when we got married is that I do not fight demons. I do graphic design and, when needed, some internet research. I’ve given up enough to be part of his crazy life; I’m not willing to give up my life as well.” She nodded toward Mikael. “I’ll stay with him.”
“Do you want to stay here?” Richard asked Kat.
“Are you fucking nuts?” she belted back.
“Oh yeah, dude, you should know,” Dylan added. “We got excommunicated.”
67
Kat drove her own car, and Dylan tuned in KFOG on the car stereo. “If the world is goin’ down in flames,” he opined, “we might as well have decent tunes for it.”
She cut due west, up Gilman, toward I-80. Dylan looked at 924 Gilman in the real world as it whizzed past. “That’s where Mikael is,” he said, pointing behind them.
“Where? The Gilman? What do you mean?” Kat asked, concentrating on the road and keeping an eye out for cops. “Mikael’s at the friary.”
“No, Ah mean his spirit. He’s at 924 Gilman. It’s okay, Jaguar is with him.”
Kat felt her eyes moisten and swallowed hard. “We only had a few hours together, Dylan,” she said. “And I already know, you know?”
