The Awakening

"It's a beautiful day, for the end of October," Darren said. "But I think I've worn Lizzie out. Or she's worn me out. I'm going to get going. Hey—see you tonight, Megan."

"Thanks—it's been really nice for you to come every night. Especially since students tend to be on a budget."

"Hey, I got a free CD," he said grinning, then saluting, he walked off.

"Nice kid," Mike said.

"Yes, he seems to be."

"Smart as a whip, too."

"That's good to hear."

Mike nodded, watching after Darren. "He's going into architecture. Hope he stays around here after he graduates. You should see some of the horrors they come up with for new buildings in the area." He stared at his brown bag, then at her, smiling slowly. "Have you still got some time? Or are you supposed to be meeting your husband somewhere?"

"I have some time. Why?"

"Well, I've lost my appetite for canned tuna and wilting lettuce. Thought maybe I could talk you into having some lunch with me."

She hesitated. If Finn found her, he might be furious.

But Finn was off with the couple from New Orleans. And she hadn't been invited. And she was out here, sitting alone, because she'd actually gotten into an argument with Morwenna—defending Finn.

"Sure. Lunch sounds great."

"We're on, then!" Mike said, pleased. With a flourish, he tossed his brown bag into a garbage bin. He caught her hand, bringing her to her feet.

"I know a great little place," he told her.

Eddie seemed exceptionally pleased to meet Jade and Lucian; he had a number of Jade's books, Finn quickly discovered; and in a matter of minutes, Eddie managed to discover that Lucian was fluent in many archaic languages as well. In fact, Eddie seemed incredibly impressed.

They all wound up in the back of the store with Eddie pouring through old tomes, finding just the ones he wanted himself, and scratching his head and thinking each time Jade or Lucian asked a question.

"Here's one that I keep under glass at all times… I barely touch the pages. It's handwritten, Old Norse, written by a Viking explorer who went down through Finland, Poland, into Russia, and into the Near East," Eddie said, coming in with a volume that was obviously an incredible collector's piece, the binding thick leather with etched writing on the cover. "I've had a few of the pages translated, but not many. The book is far too delicate. I don't think it will do us any good, unless someone can read Old Norse, but with your interest in the books, I thought you'd at least like to see it."

"My God, it must be worth a fortune," Finn said. "Eddie, perhaps you shouldn't even take it out from underneath the glass."

"I read Old Norse," Lucian said. "Eddie, I will be extremely careful."

"You read Old Norse?" Finn said skeptically.

"Yes." Lucian stared at him with a shrug. "I've spent a number of years studying languages."

"He's moved around a lot, "Jade explained.

"Ah."

Lucian poured over the text, looking through pages, his fingers light against the nearly transparent paper.

"The explorer's name was Erikson, I know that much," Eddie said, taking a chair near Lucian where he sat at the back desk. "That's one of the first really excellent pieces I ever acquired. An old man here was going out of business while I was in college. I helped him sort out his stuff for sale and disposal, and he allowed me one piece for the help. This is the one I chose."

Lucian glanced up at him. "You could probably retire and move to an island on this one book alone,"

Lucian told him.

"I could, yes. Except that I love these books, and I love my store, and I don't need to retire," Eddie told them with a grimace.

Lucian nodded and gave his attention back to the text. "Erikson talks about coming to a village where the people kept an altar and on the full moon each month, offered up one of the village maidens. They were instructed by what Erikson calls a black priest, and they were promised peace and prosperity within the village, as long as they obeyed the commands. When Erikson and his men arrived and ransacked the village, they were warned by the black priest that they would all die, since his leader was determined on stealing the young woman intended for the next sacrifice. Erikson and one other man left the village to explore another valley. When they returned, their leader, and the forty-odd men who had been in their number, were dead, throats slit, tied upside down to poles, drained of blood and life. One of the ancient village women convinced them that they must escape, saying that Bac-Dal had come." Lucian looked up at Jade. "Had you come across this story in any of your reading on the demon?" he asked.

"Demons aren't real," Finn reminded them quietly.

Lucian looked at Eddie. "You really do need to put this back now. What I'd like to see is anything at all that you might have about this man Cabal Thorne, and what supposedly happened here in the very early seventeen hundreds."

"Will do," Eddie told him, excitedly on the hunt. He picked up his Old Norse tome as if he were handling a premature infant, tenderly, and with reverence. "You're sure you're done with this?" he asked Lucian.

Lucian nodded. "Thank you," he said gravely. "It was a privilege to read."

"Wow. And you can read it," Eddie said, shaking his head. "I know some languages, but Old Norse…

wow. All right, let me see, everything I can find on Cabal Thorne."

"Maybe you should start by showing them the book you showed me the other day. The one Sara read from."

"The one written by Cabal himself. Yes, you should see that. It's an incredible piece," Eddie said, and went to get the book.

Finn looked at Jade. "You wrote a book—with a section on demons. Apparently, there are plenty of people who do believe that they are real."

"Yes, "Jade said, glancing at her husband.

Finn leaned forward "All right, I believe that people cause the evil in the world. Because of their beliefs.

Here, in Salem, no one was practicing witchcraft. Jealousy and envy and whatever other factors caused whatever hap pened. The girls went into convulsions and fits—brought on by tales and stories, and who knows? Bacteria in the wheat. The point is, there was no witchcraft, but that didn't mean that people weren't tortured, or that they didn't die. Obviously, Cabal Thorne was a nut case who believed in demons, and committed murder, believing he could bring a demon to life. Surely, a rational man would have known that stories about demons were like stories about Roman gods and goddesses, or mermaids, and the like."

They both looked at him without replying.

"Men do evil," he said softly. "A man killed that girl in Boston. I think that there are powers, all right.

Maybe someone has been drugging our drinks. Maybe the power of suggestion is greater than we're willing to accept. Supposedly, hypnotism can do amazing things—convince people that they don't want to smoke, and that they're going to eat less."

Lucian eased back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "You definitely believe that something is going on. You called us, remember?"

"Here!" Eddie said, coming back into the room with Cabal Thome's handwritten tome. "I've actually only read some of it The language is often archaic, and the handwriting has such flourishes that it's often difficult to decipher what he was trying to say. Exactly. Of course, from the start, and certainly modern day, it's incredibly important to remember that there's a huge difference in being a Wiccan or a Satanist."

"Absolutely," Jade murmured softly as Lucian accepted the book.

Eddie stood over his shoulder. "There's a slip of paper on the page that Sara read the other day, title one that got Morwenna going."

Lucian went to the page, read silently for several seconds, and then aloud. "'Of all that is needed, these three are of the greatest and utmost importance—the blood of the sacrifice, the blood of the anointed, the hair of the anointed.' "

"What do you think he means by anointed?" Jade asked.

"I'm not sure," Lucian murmured.

"Blood of the sacrifice sounds easy enough," Eddie mused. "The slaughtered lamb—or, in Cabal Thome's case, the blood of his victims."

Lucian read aloud again. "'And all who would honor He who is the God of Darkness, remember that All Hallow's Eve, that which falls upon a full moon, is a night when the elements of the spirits and those who roam the netherworld are strongest, and therefore, it can be as well, the Time of The Coming.'"

"Well, we know that the guy was a crazy, sadistic, murderer," Finn said. "He thought he could bring a demon to life. What better time than to do so than during the full moon? And All Hallow's Eve."

"Well, right," Jade said dryly. "That part seems fairly evident." She glanced at Lucian, who looked up from the book, and then at Finn.

"Lost any hair lately?"

"Am I going bald? I doubt it. The gene for hair loss is supposed to come from the mother's father, right?

My granddad had hair thicker than weeds until the day he died," Finn assured them.

"Megan hasn't had a haircut here in Salem, has she?" Jade asked.

"Megan… a haircut? No."

Jade looked at Lucian again. "There are brushes… the shower. Everyone loses hair on a daily basis."

"I would think they'd need some solid strands."

"What are you talking about?" Finn said. "Megan hasn't—" He stopped dead in the middle of his sentence. The words Lucian had read repeated in his head. Of all that is needed, these three are of the greatest and utmost importance— the blood of the sacrifice, the blood of the anointed, and the hair of the anointed.

"What?" Lucian said.

Finn stared at them blankly for a moment. "This is… ridiculous, I think. But… the first night that we were playing here, there was some kind of a monster decoration in the hall. You know, a creature. And it had branch-like fingers. Megan walked beneath it and her hair tangled in it." He shook his head, shrugging then. "I got tangled in it myself about twenty minutes later. And I'm sure more people were caught in it— ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">