13:2
Blues guitar greeted the group as they entered the main floor of Stripped. It was a bit muffled by the heavy wooden doors braced with iron leading into the space but once Ben opened them and strode in the sound carried, carried by the acoustics of the arched ceilings and marble floor.
The sound seemed to be originating from the stage at the front of the former church, where the altar had once served as the heart of the structure, but due to the size of the space it was hard to be certain. The group walked forward for just shy of a mero before the stage, and Al sitting on a chair with hair falling over his face, came into focus.
“I swear if there is a single mouse I am turning around and walking out,” Kim said from somewhere to the right of Dan.
Sass peeped, the sound boosted by the exceptional acoustics.
“Except Sass. Obviously.”
As the conversation continued, Dan let it flow over him. He found himself doing that often in this company. They all talked so much and so fast. Of the entire group the only ones he found restful were Dempsey, Ivan, and frequently Prairie. The others seemed to compete to see who could use the most oxygen at any given moment.
No. Edit that. Siobhan could be fairly quiet too. Until prodded by Gwen and/or Kim. Then she could be quite vocal.
Sometimes he tuned the others out. Not to be rude. If they asked him something directly he answered but he found most of the time their casual conversations didn’t need his participation.
He didn’t mind. Gave him more time to work on things. Like this problem he and Maise were running into narrowing down the hits in their search for The Three. She called those hits pings. Code language.
Abe would like that. Dan made a note to tell his young friend about the term. It was easier to write things like that down so they didn’t disturb his train of thought. He’d circle back eventually. He found interrupting his flow didn’t work for him.
Note done he thought about the location spell he and Maise had ascribed. The problem with it might be less pressing now that they knew where at least one of The Three was. Even better if Al came through with his promise of information.
Implied promise. Until Al divulged anything, Dan would keep working the problem. Which amounted to him splitting his attention between his notes and the group’s chatter.
Sass’ high-pitched peep drew his focus for a moment. He shifted his attention from his thoughts about the problem to the conversation going on around him.
Another peep, then Patti said, “Sass says get bent.”
“Really?”
“I’m interpreting.”
Abe leaned to look around Dan. “Do you think Sass came from Al?”
Another peep. Again Patti interpreted. “You too, Abe.”
Yeah, nothing Dan needed to interface with. He shifted his attention around, dedicating about twenty percent to the conversation and the basic mechanism of moving through the church turned nightclub while putting the majority of his energy back into his thoughts about the spell.
Growing up with attention-sponge Carl, he had excellent compartmentalization skills. He could keep twenty percent of his focus on what others said as he was doing now, enough to interact when he needed to, leaving most of his mind free to focus on whatever tangle his brain decided to tug at.
His twenty percent had been good enough for Carl and it largely was for the group he’d fallen in with while working a case of two missing kids. Sometimes he caught Dempsey giving him looks that suggested the big guy was aware of Dan’s ruminations, but the newest member of their unlikely brotherhood never pressed it. Dan found himself liking the guy more for it.
The others? They weren’t self-centered – how could that even be a consideration when they were dedicating themselves to this cause of finding missing people? – they were just – He’d use the term situationally unaware.
As in unaware that not everyone was engaging with them. Sometimes unaware they were about to walk into a column. Like Abe was about to do as they walked sideways, gesturing on the air as they made some point to Patti. Dan threw his hand out, grabbing the back of their cassock, and pulled them out of range of the column, gaining a bright smile in thanks from the younger person.
Dan gave a head jerk in response. It didn’t slide past him that he often found himself in a similar situation to the one Abe had nearly found themselves in.
Carl often joked Dan would die walking into traffic while thinking deep thoughts, but Dan was always keenly aware of his surroundings, despite how it might appear to others. As a private investigator, observation was his stock in trade.
The skills he’d developed to work with his Magick helped with that. Eighty percent of what he saw at any given time were words. He’d gotten good at filtering the words so he could see the reality others experienced within a short time of his Magick kindling.
Take the column Abe had nearly walked into. Where others saw a column, he saw a column, the word column, the word wood, the word oak, the chemical composition of oak, and then he started on the nails. After that was the iron cladding the base.
So much noise.
The first few dias after his Magick kindled, he’d been lost to the words. Unable to see reality. Only words. If not for Carl feeding and watering him like a horse, he’d probably have died while learning to adapt.
It was a miracle it had only taken him dias to adjust. Other bibliomancers ended up in special facilities for septimanas, mes, even anos as they learned to filter the words from the world. Some never left. Some, without support like Carl, died.
He’d forever be grateful for Carl’s intervention, to the point of even helping him piss. It was a large part of why he put up with Carl’s crap. That and he was Dan’s brother, so Dan was predetermined to put up with more crap from him. But mostly it was gratitude for not letting him die as he learned how to live in a world that was suddenly words, noise, and intermittent bursts of static. Their parents had been pretty much absent through both of their Magickal awakenings, Nulls both and lacking the basic understanding to provide much support.
Not that such a lack stopped Carl. He’d pretty much just said ‘fuck the world!’ and dug in. Fuck the World and Dig In were pretty much Carl’s default states. Carl had been there for him and mes later when Carl’s Magick kindled Dan had returned that favor though Carl’s Tinker ability came with far less reality disruption making his transition far easier.
Carl’s transition had been easier than Dan’s. Not just because it was after Dan and they’d ironed out the wrinkles of how to handle the change. Tinker skills were just easier to adjust to.
Dan knew his Magick wasn’t the flashiest, but he literally had the ability to alter reality. To make a column a tree with some editing. Easy? No. Possible, especially as the column was once a tree and that edit existed under the layers of column? Yes.
Looking at it from another angle he also had the ability to genuinely jank up reality. That possibility weighed every action he took, every thought he had. It was why it took so long for him to adjust to his Magick. And why Bibliomancers died or ended up locked away for ‘their own good’.
It was also why sometimes he suspected people read him as thinking slow. In fact he thought fast. Very fast. He just was taking in more input than most of them.
“Dan?” Siobhan’s voice had Dan doing the quick math of shifting his energy from his thoughts to the larger world. He realized the group had stopped two-thirds of the way to the stage. “Settle a debate?”
Dan shifted his toothpick left to right. The mechanism helped with the mental shift, buying him a mikro to go from thought to action. “Okay?”
“Do you think Sass came from Al?”
Dan clenched the toothpick between his teeth as he considered. “Does it matter?”
“I don’t know?”
Another mikro, another shift of his toothpick and mind. “No. I don’t think Sass came from Al. I think it’s just a coincidence they are a mouse and Al has mouse companions. If anything, I think Sass came from ARFA.”
“Why would you think that?”
Dan wanted to ask why this was so important they’d stopped their forward movement. He shifted a look over to Dempsey leaning propped against one of the wooden columns running the length of the room. Dempsey’s steady look gave Dan nothing to work with. Deciding to just play along until, potentially, the reason presented itself, Dan forged on.
“Just a feeling. Animal companions are a trope in fairy tales.”
“Trope?” Patti’s question drew Dan’s focus.
“Tropes are patterns in storytelling that help readers connect with stories.”
“Oh.” While Patti’s tone said ‘I understand’, her expression contradicted that.
“Something that repeats across different stories so when you hear it you have an echo moment.”
“Echo moment?”
“Like an echo of thoughts you’ve had before. It makes the story feel familiar.”
“Oh.” That time Patti’s word and expression aligned, indicating she did get the concept. Dan shifted his gaze around the group, reading their understanding. Good. No need to waste energy explaining further.
“The tales come from ARFA. So, Sass probably came from ARFA.”
Ivan’s expression shifted, reflecting thinking. “You think the tales come from ARFA?”
“I think the tales come from verbal traditions of various cultures.” Dan shifted his toothpick again. “But, I think ARFA has adopted them.”
Siobhan ran her hand along her chin. “That makes a lot of sense.”
“The mice Sass was one of came from Cinderella’s tale. Diana’s tale as ARFA adapted it. So, Sass came from ARFA.”
Patti lowered her hand to trace a finger over Sass’s head. “Do you think Sass was meant to help us?”
“Animals in fairy tales fall under the trope of helpers. So, maybe. Not enough data to be sure.”
“Unknown!” Patti and Abe said almost in unison. They turned and looked at each other with big grins.
Yes. Dan was aware that the response he often gave was fairly ridiculous, to the point it was becoming a trope itself, but it suited when he didn’t have an answer. It was better than saying “I don’t know.” Especially as it was a far more valid way of explaining something was unknown.
Words mattered. If anyone understood that, he did.
So, he nodded and said, “Unknown,” while tamping down the humor rising in his chest. He suspected he didn’t completely hide it as Ben grinned and tapped his head in salute.
“People. Folks. I’m sure this all amazingly interesting but I have limited time here.” Al’s voice came from several directions at once, picked up by the acoustics of the room. “Probably.”
Siobhan adjusted the strap of her large bag then ran a hand over her head, her fingers straightening her flower crown. She looked around the group. “Shall we?”
Gwen slid over, actually slid across the marble floor, then weaved her arm with Siobhan’s. “We shall!”
Kim straightened and then rolled her shoulders. “Might as well. We came all this way.”
As the group moved forward Dan fell in beside Dempsey.
“Ready for this?” Dempsey murmured.
Dan shifted his toothpick. “Unknown.”
Dempsey’s brows rose. Lowered. Rose again. Then he cocked his head before indicating the space at the front of the room with a jerk of his chin.
The rest of the group had reached the stage by the time Dempsey and Dan came up. Their gazes were almost universally locked on Erik standing completely still against the far wall, mostly hidden in the shadow cast by the choir loft.
Ivan sidled over, hands planted in his pant’s pockets, and took up a wide-legged stance next to Dempsey. “There’s something weird with Erik.”
“He’s not moving.” Patti walked over and stood next to Dempsey. “Like at all.”
Dan squinted an eye to help peer into the shadows shrouding Erik. “Seems so.”
“Why?”
Dan’s “Unknown,” was half-covered by Al saying, “He’s a golem.”
“Uh,” Gwen lifted a finger like she was in a classroom or a meeting and was asking permission to speak.
Al shifted a little in his chair. His fingers continued to play over the strings of his guitar, emitting a steady rhythm that was almost mesmerizing. Considering Al was the Pied Piper it wasn’t beyond belief that it was. Mesmerizing, that was.
“Yes?” Al focused his gaze on Gwen, giving silent encouragement to speak.
“What’s a golem?”
“May I?” Dan directed the question to Al.
“Go for it?”
Dan turned to Gwen. “Stories say a golem is a figure made of clay or mud brought to life with Magick.”
He looked to Al for confirmation which he got with a slight nod. “True. That’s what the stories say. Erik is a little different than that. He’s not made from clay or mud. Just Magick.”
Before Dan could ask the how of that, Al elaborated. “Spirit Magick. I can’t explain the mechanics of it but I know she,” by his tone it was clear who ‘she’ was and also that he was still avoiding naming her. Interesting, “made him. Well, one of him. There’ve been many Erik’s since she snatched a part of my soul. She needed a vessel to keep it in so she made Erik. Erik number one. This is,” he jerked his head to indicate the still form at the back of the stage, “Erik number, I don’t know, I think twenty.”
Dan’s eyes widened fractionally. He flipped to a fresh page and hastily scrawled notes. He’d only read of golems in fiction. Hadn’t really dismissed the possibility they existed but hadn’t actually thought much about them. So, this was all fascinating and new and therefore notes. Many notes.
“Unlike a golem made of clay or mud the Eriks mature like standard humans. They start out as children. Kind of her thing, children.” There was a strain in his tone that suggested Al had feelings about this quirk of Mary’s, feelings that were less than supportive. “They grow and experience full lifetimes. When they get old enough they’d die of natural causes she absorbs the Magick from them and spits out a new, child Erik.”
Gwen blinked hard then stared at Erik’s still form. “That’s–” she gulped, “Is he aware that he’s lived multiple lifetimes?”
“I don’t think so. I was never allowed near him. Something about incompatible energy that honestly I thought was bullshit to keep me away because our coming together would cause us to integrate. At least that was my theory. Mary kept his locations from me. I only came to suspect he was tied to a fairy tale when she dismissed the need to retell Blanca’s story. We –” His voice cut off. He rubbed his hand against his throat and grimaced. “Guess that was a step too far. Anyhow.” He shifted his attention to Erik then back to the group, his expression one of regret. “Ended up I was wrong. We didn’t integrate. And he seems to have gone inert.”
“Do you feel any connection to him?” Prairie’s soft words carried in the quiet space.
Al’s fingers skipped a note before continuing to play the compelling melody. “Maybe? Or maybe I’m just deluding myself.”
“I guess a better question is do you feel more?”
Al cocked his head and studied Prairie before saying slowly, “What do you mean?”
“Energy. Do you feel more energy? Maybe you’ve always felt just a little disconnected and now you don’t?”
The music halted. Al looked down at his still fingers. Then he lifted his head and his fingers moved once more. The tune he picked out on the strings was different now. Slower. Quieter. Almost like a lullabye.
“Maybe. Maybe my normal has shifted.”
“You don’t know anything is wrong until it becomes right.” Prairie said in a sympathetic tone.
“Is it?”
“Is what?”
“Right?” Al shifted his attention back to Erik’s still form. “It feels different but I’m not sure it feels right.”
“More right. But, you are right,” Prairie stopped. Shook her head. “I wish there was a better word to use! But, anyhow,” she gave a soft smile, “I think you feel more connected but not whole yet.”
“Right.” The corner of Al’s mouth twitched but then smoothed out. Almost like he felt wrong feeling humor in the moment. “So, since we didn’t instantly integrate like I hoped I need you to fix this. Before she realizes something has changed.”
“Are you concerned she has?”
Al lifted a single shoulder in an indolent shrug. “I’m always concerned when it comes to her. So,” he stopped playing to wave at Erik. “Any ideas how to reunite me with myself?”
“What have you tried?”
“This?” Al laid his fingers back on the guitar strings. It almost seemed a compulsion. Or maybe it was a coping mechanism. If anyone understood those it was Dan. “Just, got him. Like I said, I thought she was keeping us apart because we’d merge.”
Prairie gave him a look soft with compassion. The expression was enhanced by her tone. “I think as long as you have M—her soul fragment in you Erik won’t integrate. There’s no place for him.”
Al looked up fast enough his hair swayed. “Make one.”
“You make it sound easy.” Prairie softened her words with a gentle smile. “I’ve never done an exorcism that was.”
“Exorcism?”
“How else would you describe someone’s Spirit being inside of you besides Possession?”
“Huh,” Erik looked back down, apparently finding the movement of his fingers over the guitar strings as mesmerizing as the tune he played. “You said you’ve never done one that was easy, implying you’ve done them.”
“I have.”
“So,” Al stopped playing the guitar. He sat back and pressed his hand to his abdomen. “Go at it.”
Prairie crossed her arms and gave Al a steady stare. “I haven’t agreed to help you yet.”
“You haven’t?”
“No.”
“We both know you aren’t going to say no.”
Dan’s gaze shifted back and forth between the two as they lobbed their words at each other like tennis players with a ball.
Prairie took a deep breath and squared her jaw. “I want something in return.”
Al’s expression reflected resignation. “Everyone does. Too much to hope you’d be different.”
Prairie’s expression softened but then she firmed her jaw and lifted her chin higher. “You can’t disappear into the world. You have to stay with M–” At Al’s lifted finger she amended her statement, “You have to stay with them. And help us. That’s my price.”
Al’s expression shifted to one that might be described as proud. “I should have guessed someone ruthless enough to practically behead a woman–”
Prairie cut him off. “That was the Spirit!”
Al shook his head. He adopted a look of wounded disappointment. “That was you.” When Prairie crossed her arms and narrowed his eyes at him, the picture of affront, he ignored it and just kept on. “If I’ve learned nothing from living with You-Know-Who, with a piece of her soul, it’s that the Spirits encourage, drive, even pressure, but it’s your body and your will. That isn’t fully suppressed when you are possessed.”
Before Prairie could say anything he continued, “Sorry if you were telling yourself that to feel better, but that’s a slippery slope. A little denial. A little ‘that wasn’t me’. I was under the influence. Spirit,” he looked pointedly at Prairie before shifting his attention to Kim before looking at Siobhan, “Drugs. When you give up the guilt, you start making excuses for more heinous actions. Don’t. Retain your humanity.”
Prairie’s expression softened. Then she lifted her chin again. “Do you agree?”
“To stay with them? Sure.” Al played his fingers over the strings of his guitar then pinned Prairie with his gaze. “What are you waiting for? Get to the fixing.”
Prairie frowned. Her nose scrunched up, her eyebrows lowered. She was the picture of affront if affront was cute. “It isn’t as simple as waving my hands around. Especially if M–”
“Shh. Bad name! No!”
“If the malevolent entity,” Prairie studied Al’s face for a moment, like she was waiting for a vote on that term. When he just watched her with a steady gaze she plunged on, “won’t vacate, which I suspect will be the case, I need energy from ritual.”
“What kind of ritual?”
“Necromancy.”
“Uh, D’uh?” Al didn’t respond to Patti’s quick retort though he did give her a level look before turning back to Prairie.
“Do you need anything for the ritual?”
“I do. Quite a few things.” Prairie turned and looked around, her gaze measuring. She frowned slightly then turned back to Al. “This space can work.” Then she turned to Ben. “If I put chalk on the floor will it cause lasting harm?”
It was Ben’s turn to frown. “Chalk?”
“Chalk.”
Ben shifted his attention to the floor then looked back at Prairie. “I think this floor has seen far worse.”
“Great.” Prairie’s smile could light the room. If it was smaller. It would light a regular sized room. “I’ll also need four bronze bowls.”
Dan fished the book he took random notes in from his vest and opened it to a fresh page. Pencil hovering over the paper he looked at Prairie. “Size?”
“Maybe,” Prairie stretched her hands to about the size of a salad plate.”
“And?” Dan waited with pencil at the ready for her list.
“A mirror.”
“Size?”
She shrugged. “Any mirror. As long as it can be held by Al.”
Dan dutifully wrote ‘mirror’ then looked back at Prairie. “Anything else.”
“Incense. Water.” She counted off on her fingers. “Salt. Wood.”
As Dan added the ingredients to his list, Siobhan leaned in. “What kind of incense?”
“Something with resin. I like amber resin but frankincense would work. Just resin.”
Siobhan slid her bag around to her front and dug in it. A moment later she held out several lumps of something honey-colored and calcified on her palm and presented them to Prairie who gave her a big smile.
“That works great.”
“Any specific kind of wood?” Abe leaned around Patti to ask.
“Something that burns. I like cinnamon bark but as long as it burns fairly quickly.”
Dan tapped his pencil against the list. “Salt?”
“Just salt. Enough to fill one of the bowls at least halfway.”
“Just water?” Gwen asked. “Or does it have to be blessed or consecrated?”
“Some people like holy water but I have no clear affiliation with any religion so even tap water would work. But I do like spring water as it’s closer to nature.”
Dan looked down at the small list. “Anything else?”
Prairie nodded. “Five candles. One each red, green, blue, yellow, and black.”
“And?” Dan pressed.
Prairie appeared to think for a moment then added, “Essential oils. Lavender,” she counted off on her fingers, “basil, or rosemary.”
Siobhan dug in her bag again. When she pulled out three bottles, Ben gave her bag a long look then shifted to look around Dan at Dempsey’s bag. Then he looked back at Siobhan’s. Siobhan laughed. “It’s just a bag. A big bag.”
Ben pursed his lips then waggled his brows at her. “Yeah, so is Dempsey’s. Just saying.”
Before anything more could be said about Ben’s curiosity – scratch that, his obsession with Dempsey’s bag which Dan was willing to admit was curious but he was too mature to prod at it like Ben did, Prairie continued. “We also need matches.”
Dan shifted his focus back to his list, bouncing the end of his pencil off the paper. “Anything else?”
“No.” Prairie shook her head emphatically. “Chalk. Bowls. Water.” Again she counted with her fingers as she spieled off the list. “Wood. Incense. Essential oils for cleansing. Candles. A mirror.”
“That’s quite a shopping list.” There was intellectual curiosity in the look Siobhan leveled on Prairie. “Any special kind of chalk?”
“Sort of. But I have it.” Prairie pulled a thick piece of what appeared to be sidewalk chalk from the pocket of her hoodie and waved it at Siobhan. “Never leave home without it!”
“Okay.” Siobhan nodded. “We have the chalk, the oil, and the incense. We’ll need water, bowls, matches, candles, and a mirror.” The last she aimed at Dan as she looked over at the list he was compiling.
Dan didn’t really need to look at his list but he did so anyhow. Better safe than wrong. “Wood.”
“Yes.” Siobhan nodded and turned to Prairie. “You said cinnamon?” At Prairie’s nod of assent Siobhan pulled cinnamon sticks from her bag.
Ben eyed the bag again and Siobhan rolled her eyes at him. “Still just a bag. Alchemists, you’ll find, are like scouts. We’re always prepared for alchemy emergencies.”
Patti leaned in with a curious expression. “What constitutes an alchemy emergency?”
Rather than answering in words, Siobhan made an explosion motion with her fingers. Then for good measure, she repeated it.
Patti’s eyes went wide and then she nodded real slow. “Ah. Yes. That is an emergency. Remind me to stay away from those jars in Marcus’s kitchen.”
“That is a smart choice.” Siobhan grinned, then turned back to Dan. “Oil, chalk, incense, and wood down.”
Dan checked each off on the list.
“Matches.” Ben pulled a box of matches from his interior jacket pocket. They had a distinctive logo on them, advertising Stripped. “There should be salt in the kitchen in the basement. Spring water too, in bottles. But no candles or bowls.”
“There’s an alchemy supply down the street.”
This information was the first time Al interacted with them for a bit. Dan had almost forgotten the other man was there. Despite him being the reason for them to be at the club and the music he continued to play. Dan eyeballed his guitar, wondering if there was some effect to the music that made him fade into the background.
Interesting.
“They should have the bowls and the candles,” Al added.
“How long do you figure that will take to get?” Ivan asked. He’d been quiet up to that point. It was a tactic Dan had noticed him using previously. Sit back, like a cobra, reading the room. Strike if needed. But mostly just observe.
Dan appreciated that about the large man. He physically took up a lot of space but socially he seemed fine to take a background roll. Unusual for a politician, but Dan guessed if you went into public service to serve the public, as Ivan clearly had, it was less about you and more about others.
“It’s close?” Siobhan asked.
“Yes.”
“Then maybe ten meros?”
Al looked down then up to meet Siobhan’s eyes. “I don’ know how much time we have. I should be okay to be here at work. It’s expected. But sometimes she,” he leaned heavy into the word, “will stop by unexpectedly. Short leash.”
“She checks up on you randomly?” Patti frowned.
“Yes.”
“Like a stalker?”
“Yes.”
“That sucks.”
Al tossed his head to clear his hair from his eyes. “You think?”
Dan cleared his throat, feeling once again like the adult that kept the group on track. “Is that everything you need?”
Prairie gave him a soft smile. “I need Kim, Gwen, and–” There was a long pause as she looked over the group. “Siobhan.”
“Us?” Gwen goggled, forehead furrowed and lips pursed.
“The five elements are represented in the ritual.”
“Five?”
Instead of showing any frustration at Kim’s interruption, Prairie just nodded. “Necromancers believe that Spirit is an element.”
“Huh.” Kim screwed up her mouth, looked to the side, then returned her gaze to Prairie. “Well, we know Ice is an element and I’ve always suspected there are others. Just never thought about Spirit being one.”
Her gaze went inwards. Probably wondering what Spirit Elementals looked like. Dan suspected they didn’t manifest in the same way the Elementals Kim communicated with did. Maybe ghosts qualified.
Before he could go down that intellectual rabbit hole he shifted his focus from thought to observation, careful to internalize what Prairie shared.
Prairie kept quiet, a small smile curving her lips. When no one else seemed ready to interrupt, she continued, “Normally the colored candles and elemental items should be enough but since I’ve had to adapt the ritual a bit for Al’s circumstances,” she slanted a quick look at Erik’s still form against the back wall, “I’d like to have people who represent the elements involved too. Intent is an important part of these rituals. Having people who embody the elements focus on the traits of the element will enhance that intent.”
Kim cocked her head. “I represent the elements? Except for Spirit?”
“You do. But you can’t be in four places at once. There are four points in the diagram I’ll draw and each one has to be held by an element. The candles and bowls are placed in those positions for Earth, Air, Fire, and Water with the focus of the ritual being the Spirit position. In this case I’d want four people standing for the four other elements.”
Dan’s mind kept wanting to ruminate over the details Prairie shared. To offset that, he cleared his throat, drawing Prairie’s attention.
“Yes, Dan?”
“Would it be acceptable for me to document this?”
Prairie went quiet for a moment then gave a tentative nod. “I think that is a great idea. As I said, I’m definitely going outside of the standard rituals to make this work. Usually when casting out an entity during an exorcism we focus on positive energy to fill the space the entity vacates but in this case,” she cast another quick look at Erik, “we’ll be filling it with something else. So, the standard rituals don’t fully apply.”
With this permission, Dan flipped to a fresh page and started writing furiously as Prairie continued her explanation.
“I’ll be Air in the East.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Air is the breath of life, change, and new beginnings.” She cocked her head to make sure Dan got that detail. He appreciated the consideration. Air. Dan underlined the word. Life, change, beginnings.
Prairie gave him a small smile and a nod then continued. “I think I fit that element. Fire to the South is will, transformation, energy, and survival. Kim, that will be you.”
Prairie waved a hand at Kim and the other woman nodded.
Fire. Will, transformation, and energy. Survival. That clocked.
“Water to the West. That’s emotion, intuition, compassion, and the deep self. Gwen, that will be you.”
“Okay!” Gwen beamed. “I see it!”
Prairie turned to Siobhan. “Siobhan?”
“Yes?”
“Earth is in the North. That’s stability, structure, ancestral wisdom, and manifestation. It takes energy and converts it. I feel like as an alchemist that suits you.”
Water. Dan’s pencil flew over the paper as he documented. Emotion, intuition, interior life. Prairie was right. That fit Gwen like it was tailored for her. Or she tailored for it.
He wrote down then underlined Earth. Structure, manifestation, and ancestral wisdom. He could see how Prairie picked Siobhan for that element. Actually, he could see how she picked each person. They each had at their core the attributes she ascribed to the various elements.
Siobhan cocked her head in consideration then gave a slow nod. “That makes sense.”
“What do we have to do? Just stand there?”
Prairie turned at Gwen’s question. “You’ll need to focus on a single aspect of yourself that will empower the ritual. For you that is compassion.”
Gwen’s head bobbed and she gave Prairie a smile that lit her eyes. “I can do that.”
“I know.”
“Siobhan?” She turned to the other woman. “Ancient wisdom. Knowledge passed from teacher to student.”
When Siobhan nodded her understanding, Prairie turned to Kim. “Determination. The application of Will even in the face of adversity. Stubbornness.”
Kim chuckled. “It’s almost like you know me!”
Abe raised their ink-black hand. When Prairie turned to them with a question in her eyes, they asked, “What about the rest of us?”
Prairie squinted at them then gave a small shrug. “I guess be vigilant?” Then she cocked her head, looked to the side a moment, before turning to pin Patti with a look. “Sometimes chanting or music can help attain the correct mental state.”
Patti nodded hard. “Got it. These other chuckleheads,” she jerked her thumb at where Ivan and Ben stood shoulder to shoulder then over to poke in the region of Abe, Dempsey, and Dan, “can help harmonize.”
“Uh,” Ben shifted then seemed to think better of what he was going to say when Patti pinned him with a glare. “I’m an excellent harmonizer. They called me Ben the Harmonizer when I was a kid.”
Ivan gave a solemn nod. “They did.”
The twinkle in his eyes made Prairie smile. “I’m sure they did.”
“What about me?” Prairie turned at Al’s question. She offered him a soft smile that she hoped reassured. “As the focus of the ritual you and Erik will be in the center of the diagram, at the point of Spirit, holding the mirror and the black candle.”
He gave her a long measuring look then nodded. “Anything else?”
“Hope?” The word just slipped out. Almost immediately she wished she hadn’t said it. She didn’t need him to harbor doubts to her ability to make this work. She was already harboring enough herself. Didn’t need to add to that energy. They’d need every bit of positive energy as they could get. She was doing this on a wing and a prayer. Maybe two wings. But definitely a prayer.
She’d been contemplating how to manage this challenge since Al first mentioned his possession. He hadn’t used that word but as she’d said what else would you call having someone else’s Spirit, even a portion of it, within you controlling you? She knew how to cast out Spirits. That was stock and trade for a necromancer. Even a mid-level Magicker should be able to manage it.
It was the returning of the portion of his reclaimed Spirit that was the part she’d been playing with in her head. She’d cobbled together a little of this ritual and a little of that until she came to what she hoped was going to work. Something told her if they didn’t get this done right and this first time they weren’t going to have a second chance.
So, hope was the word tantamount in her brain and that’s why, she suspected, it popped out.
He lofted his brows. “That’s reassuring.”
Prairie drew confidence around her like a warm sweater, shrugging it into place, and then lifted her chin and met Al’s gaze with a nonchalance she was really trying to feel. Not so much fake it until you make it as will it and it shall be. It was so important with a ritual of this nature to have all her thoughts and will aligned to a single goal and to block out the noise of doubt and uncertainty.
She would do this. Her Magick was excellent. They would succeed and Al would be free of Mary’s influence.
And that was that.
Enter The Woods 