Evil in Me, page 15
“And who is this young lady?” Dr. Gold asked.
“Ah, sorry. This is Ruby. Ruby, this is Dr. Gold.”
“Just David, please.” He stuck out his hand. “Only my patients call me Dr. Gold.”
Ruby shook his hand, caught a whiff of pot, was pretty sure Dr. Gold was a bit stoned.
“I’m a proctologist.” He wiggled his fingers. “That’s why my fingers are so stained.”
Ruby pulled her hand loose and he chuckled.
It took Ruby a second to catch on that he was messing with her. She grinned.
“Actually, I’m retired. Got tired of dealing with assholes.” He laughed, practically guffawed. “Sorry, that one never gets old for me.”
Ruby laughed for the first time in days, decided right then and there that she liked this man, liked the mischievous glint in his eyes, the half-smirk that never seemed to leave.
“Okay,” David said. “Enough butt jokes for now. I’m dying to know what’s brought you to my door. I’ll admit, I’m hoping it has something to do with you finally agreeing to sell me some, part, or all of your collection. We both know you’re getting too old to be hoarding those treasures all to yourself. And you know, no one’s going to pay you what I will. But more importantly, you know I’ll keep them safe … keep them out of museums, or anywhere else where the wrong sort of folks can get their hands on them. And I know, you know what I mean?”
Josh’s eyes dropped; for a moment, Ruby thought he was about to cry.
“What?” David asked. “What did I say?”
Mr. Rosenfeld started to reply, stopped, started again, then just shook his head.
“Here,” David cut in. “Hold that thought. This is obviously the kind of conversation that should be preceded by a drink. What can I get you two? Cola, iced tea, or something stronger?”
“Stronger,” Josh said. “Don’t care what. Just something with a kick.”
“Tea,” Ruby said.
David slipped into the adjoining kitchen, giving Ruby a moment to take in the room. The only seating was an old leather sofa, the rest of the space was taken up by two large tables covered with tattered scrolls and bookshelves overflowing with books and ancient artifacts—pottery and clay bowls, weapons of all sorts, including a large battle ax. There was jewelry, several skulls, a few drums, a harp, and a selection of flutes, some ornate, others plain, but all the items appeared old as the hills.
Ruby ran a finger along a black wooden flute.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” David said, walking back into the room with three glasses on a tray. “That’s one of my favorites. Ancient musical instruments are one of my many, many passions.”
He handed what looked like straight bourbon to Mr. Rosenfeld, brought the tea to Ruby, keeping the final glass for himself.
He lifted the flute. “Picked this up in Egypt about a year ago. A lot of museums would’ve loved a chance at it, but my sources know I’ll pay double what most will for the right stuff. And this one, well, it’s the right stuff. It came from Queen Nefertari’s tomb. That makes it around three thousand years old. Carved from some lucky fellow’s thigh bone.”
He gave it a long soft toot and let out a sigh. “Can you believe that? You just heard the very same tune that Queen Nefertari heard. How utterly amazing is that?” He set it back down. “But here, look, this is my primary passion, my obsession really.” He led them to one of the large tables where what appeared to be an ancient scroll was laid out. The parchment was in tatters, with little pieces spread all over the table. Someone was piecing it back together like a giant jigsaw puzzle.
“Since retiring, this is what I spend most of my time, and most of my money, on. It’s not just the satisfaction of restoring these relics, but discovering their messages, their lost secrets. This one here, why it’s at least two thousand years old.” He stopped, his eyes fixed upon a fragment. “Aha!” He plucked up the bit and stuck it toward the top of the parchment. “Been looking for that. I’ve just started this one, but believe it to be a poem about a woman, perhaps a goddess.”
Ruby felt Beel trying to compel her forward and let him lead her. Beel leaned over, then gently spun two of the fragments around at the top, reforming the symbol.
David grimaced. “Whoa, careful there!”
Tell him it is a recipe for beer, Beel said.
What?
That symbol represents Ninkasi. I know it well. She is the goddess of brewing. This looks to be a recipe for beer.
Ruby relayed the message.
David glanced from Ruby to the parchment, studying the symbols for a long minute, then back at Ruby. “I think you’re right. How the heck did you know that?”
“She didn’t,” Josh said.
“Huh?”
Mr. Rosenfeld emptied his glass, then cleared his throat. “David, Ruby is possessed.”
Ruby expected David to laugh, to scoff, to roll his eyes, but instead he gave Ruby what could only be described as a clinical look, perhaps the same look he gave his patients. “By what?”
Mr. Rosenfeld unzipped his bag, pulled out the spell book, and set it on the table.
David’s eyes grew wide. “Is that…? No, it can’t be.” He leaned close, gently ran a finger across the frayed leather binding. “I never thought I’d get to see this.”
“It’s yours if you want it.”
David looked up, stunned. “W … what? No! You don’t mean that.”
“It’s yours … along with all my relics. But first you must do something for me … for Ruby.”
Both looked at Ruby.
“We need to exorcise the demon within her.”
Ruby felt Beel’s anger as he pushed forward, trying to take her voice. Ruby gave in, letting him have his say. “I am not a demon!” Beel stated in his slightly deeper, throaty voice. Ruby was beginning to get used to the strange echo of it.
Despite David’s cool exterior, Ruby could see the gooseflesh on his arms. This time, it was David who emptied his glass in one long gulp. “Then just what are you?”
“I am Beel. I am shedim.”
“Shedim? Shedim? Wait … I know that.” David pressed his palm against his forehead, looking like some trivia contestant on the verge of the winning answer. “Shedim, yes. God’s unfinished people! That’s it. One of God’s castoffs. Right?”
Ruby felt a wave of deep sadness flowing from Beel. “Yes,” Beel said solemnly. “One of God’s castoffs.”
David leaned into Ruby as though trying to see the sheid behind her eyes.
“He claims to be trapped within Ruby,” Mr. Rosenfeld said. “A slave to some greater demon.”
“Interesting,” David said. “There could certainly be more than one demon at play. Several even. It’s not unheard of. So, might be true, or might be total bullshit. Demons aren’t exactly known for their trustworthiness.”
“It matters not if you believe me,” Beel said, though Ruby could tell that it did, could feel his bitterness. “There is one truth that must be faced.” He held up Ruby’s hand so they could all see the ring. Ruby marveled at the weird sensation of someone else driving her body. “The only way Ruby can be free, the only way I can escape, is by removing this ring. And we must do it before Lord Sheelbeth kills Ruby.”
“A demon that wants to be exorcised,” David said. “Now that’s something new.” He snatched up a magnifying glass, studied the ring, started to touch it.
“Don’t!” Mr. Rosenfeld cried. “It’s alive. I’ve witnessed it. The blood, that’s all that is keeping the other one away.”
David jerked his hand back. “The other one, this Lord Sheelbeth. Is that the same as Queen Sheelbeth?” He tugged at his beard. “Must be. The tyrant queen of the Caucasus Mountains. Right? Can’t recall the details, only that she had quite the thirst for blood. Something about a five-hundred-year reign.”
“Closer to a thousand,” Beel said.
“And she’s some kind of demon?”
“She is worse than any demon. She was cast down by the Baalei Shem for her wickedness. She is the one controlling the ring, it is part of her. It is her connection … her path to escape her prison, to return to earth, to feeding on humankind. Remove it and you will blind her. Lock it away and you lock her away.”
“And where exactly is this Sheelbeth?”
Ruby felt Beel’s growing impatience. “Hell.”
David gave Ruby a hard look. “Hell, as in Heaven and Hell? As in God and Satan?”
“There are many hells. I do not have time to explain. There is a taint on Ruby, it is drawing evil to us even as we speak. If you do not remove this ring soon, Lord Sheelbeth will have us all. Do you not understand what that means? It means your soul will be her slave for eternity.”
“But how can—”
“David,” Mr. Rosenfeld interrupted. “I don’t trust this demon any more than you. But I know this: that’s the ring that killed my brother and his wife … burned down our synagogue. Of all Reuben’s relics, it’s the one he feared most. The one he made me promise to always keep locked away. It won’t stop with Ruby. It’ll never stop. Not if it gets free. And that’s why we’re here. We need your help.” Josh tapped the spell book. “Are you willing to help us, David? Will you help us?”
David took another hard look at the ring, the book, and let out a long breath, then laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve lived my whole life waiting for a moment like this. This is amazing, this is all so amazing. Nothing could make me walk away from this. So, what’s the plan?”
The room fell quiet.
“Ah,” David said. “You don’t have a plan? Do you?”
“No,” Mr. Rosenfeld replied. “Not really. But I feel the answers are in here.” He slid the book over. “And that’s what we need your help with.” The old man paged through the book until he arrived at a tattered cloth bookmark. “These are casting spells. My brother tried to teach me a bit about them, back when he still had hopes of recruiting me into the Baalei Shem. It’s Word magic, something the Baalei Shem were known for. He only used one once that I know of, and that was to help our sister with her cancer.”
“Did it work?” David asked.
“It did … sorta. The cancer went away, but her hair turned white and she claimed to hear voices after that, awful voices. She took her own life five years later.”
Ruby winced.
“I can decipher some of the ancient Hebrew text,” Mr. Rosenfeld continued. “But the symbols and such … I quickly get lost. David, I’m hoping you can you make heads or tails of it?”
David pulled out a pair of reading glasses, put them on and began to scan the page. His brows tightened. “Such an interesting mix of languages and symbols, often in the very same line. Not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.” He traced along a line of text. “This is obviously ancient Hebrew. This … a bit of Old Persian, I think. And these symbols are Akkadian, but these symbols here … just not sure.”
“Wizard letters,” Beel said.
“What do they say?” Ruby asked.
“I do not know.”
“I believe you’re right,” David exclaimed. “Baal Shem marks. Has to be. Some ancient Kabbalah stuff … well actually, these probably predate Kabbalah. Bet it’s similar though.” He leapt over to a bookcase stuffed with volumes, grabbed two books off the top shelf and another from the lower, brought them over. He thumbed through one, tossed it aside, then the second, trying to keep the brittle pages from falling out of the spine. “Here, look.” He held the page next to the marks so they could compare the symbols. “Aren’t these the same?”
Ruby and Mr. Rosenfeld nodded.
“Okay, okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”
He turned the leathery page of the spell book, his hand trembling and, judging from the look on his face, it was from excitement, not fear—David appeared to be having the time of his life.
“This one’s for healing, one for strength, for wisdom … this one … fertility … oh.” He laughed. “And right next to it, of course, one for keeping your pecker hard. This is for curses … one for protection.” He listed off two dozen others. “Nothing for removing rings so far.” He continued reading, comparing symbols and definitions. “Ahh!” He tapped a mark. “I think this is what we want.” He tugged his beard and nodded. “Yeah. It’s a bit vague, which might be good. The translation is roughly ‘freedom.’ I think it’s meant to liberate someone who is enslaved, or maybe a prisoner.”
“We are both,” Beel said.
“Okay,” David said. “I think it might work then. The rest is fairly easy to decipher. Just give me a minute.” He grabbed a pad and pen and began to write, nodding and grunting as he went. After a few minutes, he held the pad up. “Interesting, really.” He tapped his teeth with the end of his pen. “If I’m getting this right—and Lord help us if not—Ruby, first you have to make the spell and bind it to you … make it a unique thing that belongs only to you. Then you can use it. But you’ll need help.”
“What kind of help?” Ruby asked.
David ran a finger along his notes. “Umm … demons are usually best for this sort of thing, but not if you don’t know how to control them. Seeing as we do not, we’re going to go with some other kind of spirit. Hmm, benevolent deities are high on the lists.” He looked around like there might be one sitting near them, grunted. “Yeah, we don’t seem to have any of those around here. Do we? Angels? No. Well, that leaves wild spirits and spooks.”
“As in ghosts?” Ruby asked, thinking of the children in the attic window.
“As in whatever we can draw to us.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“You bet. No telling what we could end up summoning.”
“God, maybe we should just cut my finger off instead,” Ruby said, not sure if she was kidding or not at this point.
“It will not work,” Beel said. “Many have tried. The ring will never let you go so easy.”
“Yes,” Mr. Rosenfeld said. “I saw this. The man who killed my brother, Adam. He tried … didn’t work for him.”
Fuck, what am I doing? Ruby wondered, but only had to look at the ring to know. “And you know how to do that? To call some spirits? Any of you?”
Beel was silent and Josh shook his head.
“Well,” David said. “Theoretically I do. But … I haven’t actually ever done it. But I did sit in on a spirit-summoning in Jerusalem. And that wasn’t some parlor trick either. Y’know, a few fluttering candles and some cards sliding across a table. No, this was the real deal. That room was swimming with voices, calls and cries, visions of people with animal heads dancing around us. It was terrifying and exhilarating.”
Ruby suddenly wanted to be just about anywhere but here. “What happens after we call the spirits?”
“Hmm, according to what I’m reading, once we get that far, if we get that far, then we try and persuade them to lend us some of their energy, their good will, their magic, to help you create the spell and bind it to you. Oh, and then to cast it.”
Ruby shook her head. “I’m supposed to make a spell?”
“Yeah. This is Word magic, so you put your own words into the spell. Basically, a chant, or song even. The woman in Jerusalem, she called them with a song.”
“Yes,” Beel put in. “There is magic in songs. Lord Sheelbeth, she uses souls, drives them to sing her spells. It is their song that gives her spells power.”
David looked to Mr. Rosenfeld. “Does that sound right?”
Josh shrugged. “I think so. Lines up with what Reuben told me.”
“So,” Ruby said. “I need to come up with a … a song spell?”
Josh and David nodded.
“Okay,” Ruby said. “How about this? ‘Free my ass from this goddamn ring, motherfuckers.’”
David grinned. “Perhaps something a little more palatable. How about: ‘Set me free, set me free, set me free’? Y’know, keep it simple, something that you can chant.”
“Should feel more like a song,” Beel said. “Give it a tune and your heart.”
“Heart?” Ruby rolled her eyes. “Okay, how about this then?” She began to hum, then to sing. “‘Give me some magic to set me free, give me some magic to set me free, because free is what I gotta be.’”
“There’s a problem,” David said.
“What now?” Ruby asked.
“Well, it seems that wouldn’t make sense. Not if they, the spirits, sing it.”
“Why not?”
“Those lyrics are asking someone to do something. You want the lyrics, the ones the spirits sing, to be giving you something. So, it should be more like: ‘We give you our magic to set you free, give you our magic to set you free, because free is what you gotta be.’ Right?”
Mr. Rosenfeld nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Does it?” Ruby asked.
“Yes,” David continued. “You sing the first part to them, then ask them to sing the second part back. Here: ‘Give me some magic to set me free, give me some magic to set me free, because free is what I gotta be. We give you some magic to set you free, give you some magic to set you free, because free is what you gotta be.’ How does that sound?”
“Sounds like I’m in deep shit,” Ruby huffed.
“Anyone got any better ideas?” David asked.
No one said a thing.
“Okay, then let’s try it.”
* * *
Lord Sheelbeth paced in front of her throne. She could hear them, Beel, this Ruby, but they were muffled, as if behind a thick door, could even see a little of their surroundings, but as if through stained glass. What was most helpful was that she could sense their emotions, their fear and excitement, and what she sensed now was hope, and that scared her.
“How, Beel, how could you do this to me again? After all I have done for you.” Lord Sheelbeth wondered if the sheid even remembered how she’d saved him all those centuries ago.
It was back when she was at the height of her rule, back when even God’s angels feared her might; the spirits warned Lord Sheelbeth of demons trespassing in her realm. These weren’t ordinary demons, but devils serving God himself. God, emboldened by his growing power, by his rising throngs of disciples, was sending out angels and demons alike to hunt down the ancient ones—the old gods and deities—casting them into the underworld, cleansing his earthly kingdom of any that might challenge his glory. None were safe, not even the magical spirits and beasts that still roamed the earth.
“Ah, sorry. This is Ruby. Ruby, this is Dr. Gold.”
“Just David, please.” He stuck out his hand. “Only my patients call me Dr. Gold.”
Ruby shook his hand, caught a whiff of pot, was pretty sure Dr. Gold was a bit stoned.
“I’m a proctologist.” He wiggled his fingers. “That’s why my fingers are so stained.”
Ruby pulled her hand loose and he chuckled.
It took Ruby a second to catch on that he was messing with her. She grinned.
“Actually, I’m retired. Got tired of dealing with assholes.” He laughed, practically guffawed. “Sorry, that one never gets old for me.”
Ruby laughed for the first time in days, decided right then and there that she liked this man, liked the mischievous glint in his eyes, the half-smirk that never seemed to leave.
“Okay,” David said. “Enough butt jokes for now. I’m dying to know what’s brought you to my door. I’ll admit, I’m hoping it has something to do with you finally agreeing to sell me some, part, or all of your collection. We both know you’re getting too old to be hoarding those treasures all to yourself. And you know, no one’s going to pay you what I will. But more importantly, you know I’ll keep them safe … keep them out of museums, or anywhere else where the wrong sort of folks can get their hands on them. And I know, you know what I mean?”
Josh’s eyes dropped; for a moment, Ruby thought he was about to cry.
“What?” David asked. “What did I say?”
Mr. Rosenfeld started to reply, stopped, started again, then just shook his head.
“Here,” David cut in. “Hold that thought. This is obviously the kind of conversation that should be preceded by a drink. What can I get you two? Cola, iced tea, or something stronger?”
“Stronger,” Josh said. “Don’t care what. Just something with a kick.”
“Tea,” Ruby said.
David slipped into the adjoining kitchen, giving Ruby a moment to take in the room. The only seating was an old leather sofa, the rest of the space was taken up by two large tables covered with tattered scrolls and bookshelves overflowing with books and ancient artifacts—pottery and clay bowls, weapons of all sorts, including a large battle ax. There was jewelry, several skulls, a few drums, a harp, and a selection of flutes, some ornate, others plain, but all the items appeared old as the hills.
Ruby ran a finger along a black wooden flute.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” David said, walking back into the room with three glasses on a tray. “That’s one of my favorites. Ancient musical instruments are one of my many, many passions.”
He handed what looked like straight bourbon to Mr. Rosenfeld, brought the tea to Ruby, keeping the final glass for himself.
He lifted the flute. “Picked this up in Egypt about a year ago. A lot of museums would’ve loved a chance at it, but my sources know I’ll pay double what most will for the right stuff. And this one, well, it’s the right stuff. It came from Queen Nefertari’s tomb. That makes it around three thousand years old. Carved from some lucky fellow’s thigh bone.”
He gave it a long soft toot and let out a sigh. “Can you believe that? You just heard the very same tune that Queen Nefertari heard. How utterly amazing is that?” He set it back down. “But here, look, this is my primary passion, my obsession really.” He led them to one of the large tables where what appeared to be an ancient scroll was laid out. The parchment was in tatters, with little pieces spread all over the table. Someone was piecing it back together like a giant jigsaw puzzle.
“Since retiring, this is what I spend most of my time, and most of my money, on. It’s not just the satisfaction of restoring these relics, but discovering their messages, their lost secrets. This one here, why it’s at least two thousand years old.” He stopped, his eyes fixed upon a fragment. “Aha!” He plucked up the bit and stuck it toward the top of the parchment. “Been looking for that. I’ve just started this one, but believe it to be a poem about a woman, perhaps a goddess.”
Ruby felt Beel trying to compel her forward and let him lead her. Beel leaned over, then gently spun two of the fragments around at the top, reforming the symbol.
David grimaced. “Whoa, careful there!”
Tell him it is a recipe for beer, Beel said.
What?
That symbol represents Ninkasi. I know it well. She is the goddess of brewing. This looks to be a recipe for beer.
Ruby relayed the message.
David glanced from Ruby to the parchment, studying the symbols for a long minute, then back at Ruby. “I think you’re right. How the heck did you know that?”
“She didn’t,” Josh said.
“Huh?”
Mr. Rosenfeld emptied his glass, then cleared his throat. “David, Ruby is possessed.”
Ruby expected David to laugh, to scoff, to roll his eyes, but instead he gave Ruby what could only be described as a clinical look, perhaps the same look he gave his patients. “By what?”
Mr. Rosenfeld unzipped his bag, pulled out the spell book, and set it on the table.
David’s eyes grew wide. “Is that…? No, it can’t be.” He leaned close, gently ran a finger across the frayed leather binding. “I never thought I’d get to see this.”
“It’s yours if you want it.”
David looked up, stunned. “W … what? No! You don’t mean that.”
“It’s yours … along with all my relics. But first you must do something for me … for Ruby.”
Both looked at Ruby.
“We need to exorcise the demon within her.”
Ruby felt Beel’s anger as he pushed forward, trying to take her voice. Ruby gave in, letting him have his say. “I am not a demon!” Beel stated in his slightly deeper, throaty voice. Ruby was beginning to get used to the strange echo of it.
Despite David’s cool exterior, Ruby could see the gooseflesh on his arms. This time, it was David who emptied his glass in one long gulp. “Then just what are you?”
“I am Beel. I am shedim.”
“Shedim? Shedim? Wait … I know that.” David pressed his palm against his forehead, looking like some trivia contestant on the verge of the winning answer. “Shedim, yes. God’s unfinished people! That’s it. One of God’s castoffs. Right?”
Ruby felt a wave of deep sadness flowing from Beel. “Yes,” Beel said solemnly. “One of God’s castoffs.”
David leaned into Ruby as though trying to see the sheid behind her eyes.
“He claims to be trapped within Ruby,” Mr. Rosenfeld said. “A slave to some greater demon.”
“Interesting,” David said. “There could certainly be more than one demon at play. Several even. It’s not unheard of. So, might be true, or might be total bullshit. Demons aren’t exactly known for their trustworthiness.”
“It matters not if you believe me,” Beel said, though Ruby could tell that it did, could feel his bitterness. “There is one truth that must be faced.” He held up Ruby’s hand so they could all see the ring. Ruby marveled at the weird sensation of someone else driving her body. “The only way Ruby can be free, the only way I can escape, is by removing this ring. And we must do it before Lord Sheelbeth kills Ruby.”
“A demon that wants to be exorcised,” David said. “Now that’s something new.” He snatched up a magnifying glass, studied the ring, started to touch it.
“Don’t!” Mr. Rosenfeld cried. “It’s alive. I’ve witnessed it. The blood, that’s all that is keeping the other one away.”
David jerked his hand back. “The other one, this Lord Sheelbeth. Is that the same as Queen Sheelbeth?” He tugged at his beard. “Must be. The tyrant queen of the Caucasus Mountains. Right? Can’t recall the details, only that she had quite the thirst for blood. Something about a five-hundred-year reign.”
“Closer to a thousand,” Beel said.
“And she’s some kind of demon?”
“She is worse than any demon. She was cast down by the Baalei Shem for her wickedness. She is the one controlling the ring, it is part of her. It is her connection … her path to escape her prison, to return to earth, to feeding on humankind. Remove it and you will blind her. Lock it away and you lock her away.”
“And where exactly is this Sheelbeth?”
Ruby felt Beel’s growing impatience. “Hell.”
David gave Ruby a hard look. “Hell, as in Heaven and Hell? As in God and Satan?”
“There are many hells. I do not have time to explain. There is a taint on Ruby, it is drawing evil to us even as we speak. If you do not remove this ring soon, Lord Sheelbeth will have us all. Do you not understand what that means? It means your soul will be her slave for eternity.”
“But how can—”
“David,” Mr. Rosenfeld interrupted. “I don’t trust this demon any more than you. But I know this: that’s the ring that killed my brother and his wife … burned down our synagogue. Of all Reuben’s relics, it’s the one he feared most. The one he made me promise to always keep locked away. It won’t stop with Ruby. It’ll never stop. Not if it gets free. And that’s why we’re here. We need your help.” Josh tapped the spell book. “Are you willing to help us, David? Will you help us?”
David took another hard look at the ring, the book, and let out a long breath, then laughed. “Are you kidding? I’ve lived my whole life waiting for a moment like this. This is amazing, this is all so amazing. Nothing could make me walk away from this. So, what’s the plan?”
The room fell quiet.
“Ah,” David said. “You don’t have a plan? Do you?”
“No,” Mr. Rosenfeld replied. “Not really. But I feel the answers are in here.” He slid the book over. “And that’s what we need your help with.” The old man paged through the book until he arrived at a tattered cloth bookmark. “These are casting spells. My brother tried to teach me a bit about them, back when he still had hopes of recruiting me into the Baalei Shem. It’s Word magic, something the Baalei Shem were known for. He only used one once that I know of, and that was to help our sister with her cancer.”
“Did it work?” David asked.
“It did … sorta. The cancer went away, but her hair turned white and she claimed to hear voices after that, awful voices. She took her own life five years later.”
Ruby winced.
“I can decipher some of the ancient Hebrew text,” Mr. Rosenfeld continued. “But the symbols and such … I quickly get lost. David, I’m hoping you can you make heads or tails of it?”
David pulled out a pair of reading glasses, put them on and began to scan the page. His brows tightened. “Such an interesting mix of languages and symbols, often in the very same line. Not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.” He traced along a line of text. “This is obviously ancient Hebrew. This … a bit of Old Persian, I think. And these symbols are Akkadian, but these symbols here … just not sure.”
“Wizard letters,” Beel said.
“What do they say?” Ruby asked.
“I do not know.”
“I believe you’re right,” David exclaimed. “Baal Shem marks. Has to be. Some ancient Kabbalah stuff … well actually, these probably predate Kabbalah. Bet it’s similar though.” He leapt over to a bookcase stuffed with volumes, grabbed two books off the top shelf and another from the lower, brought them over. He thumbed through one, tossed it aside, then the second, trying to keep the brittle pages from falling out of the spine. “Here, look.” He held the page next to the marks so they could compare the symbols. “Aren’t these the same?”
Ruby and Mr. Rosenfeld nodded.
“Okay, okay, now we’re getting somewhere.”
He turned the leathery page of the spell book, his hand trembling and, judging from the look on his face, it was from excitement, not fear—David appeared to be having the time of his life.
“This one’s for healing, one for strength, for wisdom … this one … fertility … oh.” He laughed. “And right next to it, of course, one for keeping your pecker hard. This is for curses … one for protection.” He listed off two dozen others. “Nothing for removing rings so far.” He continued reading, comparing symbols and definitions. “Ahh!” He tapped a mark. “I think this is what we want.” He tugged his beard and nodded. “Yeah. It’s a bit vague, which might be good. The translation is roughly ‘freedom.’ I think it’s meant to liberate someone who is enslaved, or maybe a prisoner.”
“We are both,” Beel said.
“Okay,” David said. “I think it might work then. The rest is fairly easy to decipher. Just give me a minute.” He grabbed a pad and pen and began to write, nodding and grunting as he went. After a few minutes, he held the pad up. “Interesting, really.” He tapped his teeth with the end of his pen. “If I’m getting this right—and Lord help us if not—Ruby, first you have to make the spell and bind it to you … make it a unique thing that belongs only to you. Then you can use it. But you’ll need help.”
“What kind of help?” Ruby asked.
David ran a finger along his notes. “Umm … demons are usually best for this sort of thing, but not if you don’t know how to control them. Seeing as we do not, we’re going to go with some other kind of spirit. Hmm, benevolent deities are high on the lists.” He looked around like there might be one sitting near them, grunted. “Yeah, we don’t seem to have any of those around here. Do we? Angels? No. Well, that leaves wild spirits and spooks.”
“As in ghosts?” Ruby asked, thinking of the children in the attic window.
“As in whatever we can draw to us.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“You bet. No telling what we could end up summoning.”
“God, maybe we should just cut my finger off instead,” Ruby said, not sure if she was kidding or not at this point.
“It will not work,” Beel said. “Many have tried. The ring will never let you go so easy.”
“Yes,” Mr. Rosenfeld said. “I saw this. The man who killed my brother, Adam. He tried … didn’t work for him.”
Fuck, what am I doing? Ruby wondered, but only had to look at the ring to know. “And you know how to do that? To call some spirits? Any of you?”
Beel was silent and Josh shook his head.
“Well,” David said. “Theoretically I do. But … I haven’t actually ever done it. But I did sit in on a spirit-summoning in Jerusalem. And that wasn’t some parlor trick either. Y’know, a few fluttering candles and some cards sliding across a table. No, this was the real deal. That room was swimming with voices, calls and cries, visions of people with animal heads dancing around us. It was terrifying and exhilarating.”
Ruby suddenly wanted to be just about anywhere but here. “What happens after we call the spirits?”
“Hmm, according to what I’m reading, once we get that far, if we get that far, then we try and persuade them to lend us some of their energy, their good will, their magic, to help you create the spell and bind it to you. Oh, and then to cast it.”
Ruby shook her head. “I’m supposed to make a spell?”
“Yeah. This is Word magic, so you put your own words into the spell. Basically, a chant, or song even. The woman in Jerusalem, she called them with a song.”
“Yes,” Beel put in. “There is magic in songs. Lord Sheelbeth, she uses souls, drives them to sing her spells. It is their song that gives her spells power.”
David looked to Mr. Rosenfeld. “Does that sound right?”
Josh shrugged. “I think so. Lines up with what Reuben told me.”
“So,” Ruby said. “I need to come up with a … a song spell?”
Josh and David nodded.
“Okay,” Ruby said. “How about this? ‘Free my ass from this goddamn ring, motherfuckers.’”
David grinned. “Perhaps something a little more palatable. How about: ‘Set me free, set me free, set me free’? Y’know, keep it simple, something that you can chant.”
“Should feel more like a song,” Beel said. “Give it a tune and your heart.”
“Heart?” Ruby rolled her eyes. “Okay, how about this then?” She began to hum, then to sing. “‘Give me some magic to set me free, give me some magic to set me free, because free is what I gotta be.’”
“There’s a problem,” David said.
“What now?” Ruby asked.
“Well, it seems that wouldn’t make sense. Not if they, the spirits, sing it.”
“Why not?”
“Those lyrics are asking someone to do something. You want the lyrics, the ones the spirits sing, to be giving you something. So, it should be more like: ‘We give you our magic to set you free, give you our magic to set you free, because free is what you gotta be.’ Right?”
Mr. Rosenfeld nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Does it?” Ruby asked.
“Yes,” David continued. “You sing the first part to them, then ask them to sing the second part back. Here: ‘Give me some magic to set me free, give me some magic to set me free, because free is what I gotta be. We give you some magic to set you free, give you some magic to set you free, because free is what you gotta be.’ How does that sound?”
“Sounds like I’m in deep shit,” Ruby huffed.
“Anyone got any better ideas?” David asked.
No one said a thing.
“Okay, then let’s try it.”
* * *
Lord Sheelbeth paced in front of her throne. She could hear them, Beel, this Ruby, but they were muffled, as if behind a thick door, could even see a little of their surroundings, but as if through stained glass. What was most helpful was that she could sense their emotions, their fear and excitement, and what she sensed now was hope, and that scared her.
“How, Beel, how could you do this to me again? After all I have done for you.” Lord Sheelbeth wondered if the sheid even remembered how she’d saved him all those centuries ago.
It was back when she was at the height of her rule, back when even God’s angels feared her might; the spirits warned Lord Sheelbeth of demons trespassing in her realm. These weren’t ordinary demons, but devils serving God himself. God, emboldened by his growing power, by his rising throngs of disciples, was sending out angels and demons alike to hunt down the ancient ones—the old gods and deities—casting them into the underworld, cleansing his earthly kingdom of any that might challenge his glory. None were safe, not even the magical spirits and beasts that still roamed the earth.
