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Demon Lights Page 6


  Jeremy turned and stared out the window. He pulled at his beard. For a moment, he seemed genuinely unable to respond. The sky had grown dark with storm clouds and the helicopter rocked and rattled. “We’ll talk about this further when we get back to Eleusis,” he finally said. “You need to process your experience. Evaluating it properly takes time and distance.” He turned to Ray, expressionless. “But I have to say, it would shock me to learn she possesses a similar artifact. To be honest, I find it hard to believe what you saw was objectively real.”

  “Oh, it’s real. I felt her, Jeremy. It was as if she was standing right there, looking right into my eyes. As real as you are.” Ray pressed his hands against his temples. This was migraine-level pain. “Jesus. My head hurts.”

  “You took quite a hit,” Jeremy said. “Rest. We’ll be back home in an hour.”

  Home, Ray thought. He didn’t consider the compound at Eleusis his home, any more than the dozens of places he’d stayed since he’d escaped Blackwater. He didn’t have a home anymore. The old world was gone, anyway, Baltimore likely in flames and ashes like so many other cities. The school where he once taught empty, the children dead or fleeing or huddled in basements or refugee camps. That life was so far gone, so dead, it was hard to mourn it.

  But Ellen and William—they were still alive. Jeremy had said so.

  But Jeremy also lied.

  Another stab of pain hit him squarely in the center of his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut. This time he would find out.

  —

  The rain began to fall as the copter landed. Ray was sent back to his room to rest while Jeremy called for an emergency debriefing in the Atrium.

  His rest was short-lived. The tylers showed up to escort him just as he was nodding off. Ray hadn’t been inside the Council of Nine’s governing chamber, but he couldn’t help but laugh inwardly every time it was mentioned, envisioning a convocation of elves and dwarves and wizards in pointed hats discussing quests and magical rings. But when the broad doors of the cavernous amphitheater opened he was awestruck. Across the hall the members sat at an enormous polished marble table the shape of a crescent moon. A white candle burned in front of each of them beneath a ceiling so high and lost in shadow it seemed to blend into the night sky. Ray and the two tylers flanking him were the only audience members, so they sat front and center below the elevated table. Ray was still feeling the aftereffects of his mental trip into the sphere, his eyes wincing with every dull thud of pain in his head.

  He had seen most of the Council members around the compound. Four women, including Claire, and four men, all in their Brotherhood-issue whites. Jeremy whispered to a tall black woman to his left. Her hair cascaded down her back in thin, graying braids. She looked at Ray, nodded without expression, and turned back to Jeremy.

  None of the members were smiling, even Claire, who seemed to be avoiding his gaze. They all looked disturbed.

  Jeremy stood. He lifted a gavel and rapped it twice on the marble. Everyone stood, including the tylers. Ray considered standing, then remained seated. To hell with their rules of order.

  “The Council will open in due form in the Neophyte degree, with all rituals suspended in the presence of the profane.”

  Ray snorted. I’m profane. Isn’t that nice.

  The assembly and the tylers touched their foreheads with two extended fingers, then their mouths, then their chests. It reminded Ray of something he’d seen at Catholic Mass as a kid.

  Jeremy banged the gavel once. Everyone sat except for him. “This emergency dispensation is now open.” He eyed the assembly, one by one, then nodded to Ray. “As most of you know, I took Ray to the artifact site earlier today. Because he is a natural traveler, and one who has had direct contact with a number of intriguing entities, I was very curious to discover his impressions of the object’s origins and the quality of its energy.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance. The Atrium vibrated.

  “His observations ran counter to mine. And they contradicted all that we have observed in the two years we’ve been studying the object. His physical reaction was extreme, and I have little doubt what he told me was an honest account of what he perceived.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Ray muttered. No one looked at him.

  Jeremy motioned for him to stand. “Ray, please tell us your impressions of the object, as clearly and honestly as you can.”

  “Well, okay.” The eyes of the Council members were on him. “You saw it. I went into some kind of trance as soon as I was near the thing. At first, I saw it moving through space. From someplace very far away. Light years or whatever. It hit the Earth, smashed into the ground, and blew up. Like a nuclear explosion. Then time just…started flying by. Like millions of years, a time-lapse movie kinda thing. I know that sounds bizarre.”

  “Please, Ray, no need to edit yourself.”

  Ray cleared his throat. “Over time it was gradually covered in rock and dirt. Back before there was any kind of life. Well, maybe there were plants—I saw plants when it landed. And then animals and people, well…I guess they evolved. That part happened fast. People, early humans, started coming to the site, like they were drawn to the spot where it was buried. They piled up rocks, danced around them, and then they started sacrificing children. Over and over again, for I don’t know how long. Hundreds, thousands of years, I guess. It was like…a movie that kept repeating itself, with new people, new costumes, but always the same thing: killing children, cutting them open, to feed the thing buried beneath them.”

  The room was eerily quiet and cold.

  “Tell them what you saw next,” Jeremy said.

  Ray felt like an icy spider was skittering up his spine. “And then I saw more of the artifacts. There are others like it. Right now, in different parts of the world. In the jungles of Asia, I guess, and in the desert, and then one somewhere very cold and remote.” He breathed deeply. “The people near those other artifacts saw me. Like I just popped up in front of them. They freaked out.”

  “Go on,” Jeremy said. Several of the Council members looked among themselves, then back to Ray. But no one spoke.

  “One of them…one of the people who saw me…was Lily.”

  More silence. A few astonished glances. Several of the members stared at him in disbelief.

  Jeremy motioned for Ray to sit. “Thank you, Ray. I now open the floor for questions and discussion.”

  Ray sat. Let them stew on that.

  The tall black woman turned to Jeremy. She had a rich, deep voice and a singsong cadence. “Brother Jeremy, as you know, this is all very surprising. For years we’ve studied the object, and none of our travelers—nor any of our best scryers, for that matter—have discovered anything similar to what we just heard. While there was clearly sacrifice associated with the site itself, we’ve had no indications that the object in any way desires such activities. So this report from our new brother Ray is quite unusual.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Yes, Sister Malaika, everything you have said is true.”

  Sister Malaika’s eyes burned into Ray’s. Her gaze made him insecure, as if he was being caught in a lie. “Although you have told us many times that Ray is a naturally gifted traveler—and I have no reason to deny that assertion, or your history of his documented contacts—I have to wonder if his regular incidence of traumatic encounters predisposes him to seeing things that aren’t there. If his bias has colored his perceptions.”

  Ray’s face burned. “Wait a minute. I know what I saw.”

  Jeremy held up his hand. “Ray, let her finish. You’ve told your story; now the Council is open for questions.”

  Sister Malaika nodded her thanks. “Brother Ray, I am not questioning your honesty. I believe you saw what you told us. But sometimes people who have been traumatized—especially natural travelers like yourself, who have not undergone the extensive and thorough training of our confraternity—see things filtered through their fears, not as they actually are. The energies associated with this artifact
are extraordinarily powerful, and when encountered by someone without sufficient training and discernment—”

  Ray shook his head. “I can’t believe this shit.”

  Sister Malaika smiled as if he were a petulant child. “You don’t understand. We’re not saying you’re lying, only that such enormous energy, when it flows through the unprepared individual’s sphere of sensation, can sometimes trigger images that we fear, or distorted memories from our past—not what it is actually trying to communicate to us. Much like a garbled message on a phone with poor reception.”

  “This was not garbled. It was her. I felt her. She was looking right at me. Like you’re looking at me now.”

  A thin Asian man with a shaved head raised his hand. “Jeremy, his vision does accord with what we now know about Lily’s location—the compound in the Yukon territories.”

  Sister Malaika shook her head. “Ray was aware of that fact as well—before he was brought to the object. Am I correct, Brother Jeremy, that you told him her location?”

  Ray’s fists clenched. “Yes. Jeremy said Lily was somewhere in the far north. But that does not—”

  “Please, Ray.” Jeremy stood. “Everyone must have a turn to speak. You will have a chance to answer again.”

  Ray muttered under his breath. He could see where this was going. It was clear in the eyes of everyone behind the marble table.

  Sister Malaika smiled. “Thank you, Brother Jeremy.” She folded her hands on the table in front of the candle. “I’m not against taking appropriate precautions. If Ray’s vision was accurate—and I am not ready to say it is—then Lily has likely breached our wards of concealment. She will be quite capable of triangulating our location if she has locked on to it.”

  Claire stood, her eyes on Ray. “And if so, we are sitting ducks.”

  “That is a very big if, Sister Claire,” Sister Malaika said. “We would be trusting Ray’s feral abilities over the years of research of our most well-trained specialists. None of whom have determined that the artifact is one of many, nor that it is in any way malevolent.”

  The Asian man raised his hand again. “Perhaps we can repeat today’s experiment, with a proper set of controls.”

  Sister Claire nodded. “I’ll go. I believe we should all go—the full Council. If we form the proper energetic conduit, we will be able to feel what he is feeling and see through his eyes. And then we can judge for ourselves.”

  Sister Malaika whispered to Jeremy. Jeremy rapped the gavel and everyone sat but him. “Sister Claire’s suggestion is well taken. If we disregard Ray’s vision, and we are wrong, then we are lost. If we trust his vision, and he is wrong, we will have wasted years of work with the object. And as we are so close to utilizing its energies, we may be dooming ourselves with our uncertainty. Time, as you are all aware, is precious.”

  “Wait,” Ray said. He stood up and the tylers jumped to their feet next to him. “You’re right. Time is precious. Which is why I’m leaving tomorrow with the team that’s going to hunt that bitch down. You promised me, and you are not going to stop me.”

  Sister Malaika’s eyes widened. She looked to Jeremy.

  Jeremy gazed at the Council. “I told Ray he could be a member of the strike team.”

  “Without consulting us?” Sister Malaika stared. “A civilian in place of those who have trained for years for this sort of mission?”

  The Council fell silent, all eyes on Jeremy. He nodded. “For some time now—even before we found Ray in Guatemala—I have felt very strongly that he was crucial to understanding the artifact. Yes, his is a wild and unfocused talent, chaotic and uncontrolled. But he has touched the entity that Crawford summoned—the unspoken one that left a pile of corpses in Blackwater, one of them our dear brother Micah. Ray made contact, and it entered him. And he survived. He killed it. He is singular among all of us in that respect. Not just a traveler, but someone who was possessed by, and then physically destroyed, a being of the Qlippoth.”

  “Yes, we are aware of his history,” Sister Malaika said. “And so you believed he might provide some sort of key to a deeper understanding of the Light Bringer. To discern its creators. Their history and their intentions.”

  “Yes, sister,” Jeremy said.

  Thunder rumbled again.

  “And I didn’t want to do it.” Ray pointed. “But he pushed me. When I found out you had a team going to find Lily, I told him I’d go see the damn artifact, kiss the fucking thing like the Blarney Stone if he wanted, as long as I could go on that mission. Because the two people I love the most were taken by Lily, and I’ve spent what feels like half of my life trying to find them.”

  The Asian man touched Jeremy’s shoulder. “Brother Jeremy, it is quite unlike you to work outside of the Council like this.”

  “I find it very disturbing,” Sister Malaika said.

  “Your judgment and leadership have never been questioned,” Claire said. “Not once since the Great Council when you were chosen.” She looked around the room. “You have led us through many difficult days, and now through the most critical trial of all, when everything our brethren have worked for through the millennia hangs in the balance.” Her eyes found Ray’s. “And I am not about to question your decisions now. If you felt it was necessary to bring Ray to the artifact, then I am inclined to believe he was meant to deliver the message he gave us.”

  Ray exhaled. Finally. He sent his approval with his gaze. Sister Claire got it; he could see it in her eyes.

  “Perhaps,” Sister Malaika said, her eyes shifting to Claire and back to Ray. “But I would like to offer another possibility.” She stood and stepped behind Jeremy, putting her hands on his shoulders. “I must speak freely, dear brother. Please understand my words are not meant to hurt, but only to help us address this unfortunate dilemma with the necessary candor, while upholding our most sacred and inviolable obligations.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Of course, sister.”

  Sister Malaika paced slowly behind the Council. “In your written evaluation of our new brother Ray—which we all have read, yes?—you indicated he had been through a number of very traumatic ordeals. As a child subject of Project Mirror, then again as an adult in Blackwater when he witnessed the ritual of the G’thalk’atu. And at the hands of the bruja Sabina, when he unfortunately disfigured himself.”

  “Yes,” Jeremy answered.

  Ray’s teeth scraped. His face began to flush.

  “Prior to that horrible incident”—her gaze settled on his maimed hand—“Lily poisoned him with a servitor. A hybrid insect-automaton, according to your notes, Brother Jeremy. From Mantu’s description of its effects, the poison was aimed at his astral and etheric bodies. What the Black Brotherhood calls a naz’qazgla—am I pronouncing that correctly, Brother Hikaru?”

  The Japanese brother nodded. “Proto-Ursprach is difficult for anyone. But that is close enough.”

  “Such poisons of the left-hand path take root in the etheric marrow. Naz’gazgla is called the root eater or sometimes the soul maggot. It may go quiescent, but it never leaves its host. It will always be lurking.”

  Claire turned to the rest of the Council. “What is your point, sister?”

  Ray stared, shaking, his pulse throbbing in his temples, his headache near blinding. Now that she had mentioned it, his phantom finger flared with pain.

  Sister Malaika stopped in front of her seat. She leaned forward, her hands on the table, and when she spoke her breath made the candle flame dance. “We’ve been working with the artifact for more than two years. I have spent weeks at a time with it, as have most of you. None of us have sensed anything like what our recent initiate is telling us. We are all agreed that a breakthrough is near—that this horrible tide of violence against us may hang in the balance, and that the artifact could be the means of our victory. My question to you, my brothers and sisters, is this: Was Ray sent to warn us? Is he somehow the only one—among all of us—gifted enough to see the true identity of the artifact?” She walked a
round the table, and stood facing Ray. “Or, perhaps, does the naz’qazgla still run through him? To put it very simply, is he still under the control of her?”

  Ray jumped but the tylers were on him before he could move. They twisted his arms behind his back. “Get the fuck off me!”

  The Council members rose, a few of them backing away from the table. Jeremy pounded the gavel. “Brothers and sisters, please! Enough!”

  “Look at him,” Sister Malaika said, her face twisted in disgust.

  “Fuck you, God fucking damn you—” Ray’s arms felt ready to snap.

  Sister Malaika turned to face Jeremy. His eyes were wide, his face ghastly white. “Brother Jeremy, if you brought him here, and he is a snake of her making, then I fear that you may be in need of your own judgment.”

  Another boom of thunder, as if on cue, and Ray was led, screaming, out of the Atrium and into the pouring rain.

  —

  Ray’s cell was next to Mantu’s and across from Vinod’s.

  “You know what I saw was real,” Ray said through the bars. “You saw what happened to me. That was not bullshit. It was her. If anyone knows that, it’s me.”

  Jeremy nodded. “I do believe what you experienced was real—to you. But Sister Malaika’s concerns are also real. She pointed out my liability and lack of judgment in this complex situation, and correctly so. I should never have promised you a seat on the strike team without consulting the Council first. That was a failure of my leadership. And she posited something I hadn’t considered: that Lily could be using you to throw a monkey wrench in our work. It is something we must contemplate.”

  “Jeremy, you know—”

  “Just like we must consider the possibility that your vision is real. I promise you we will address this quickly. It will require an examination by the other travelers, but I swear it will not have the same consequences as your visit to the artifact.”

  Ray clenched the bars of the cell. “You need to let me out of here so I can go with the strike team. You need to honor that promise to me.”