“They look Arabic, perhaps.”
Mark walked back to the wall and ran his hand over the symbols.
“It says ‘State your name and the nature of your business at the tone’,” Ashmodel announced after a moment. “The same thing is written on all three alcoves.”
“My name is Ramsay, and I would speak to the Djinni,” Mark stated loudly and then raised one eyebrow. The writing disappeared and the face of the Mighty Djinni, three times life-size appeared on the whitewashed rock, wearing a purple beret and sporting a Salvador Dali goatee.
“Welcome, Ramsay,” he said and smiled, showing a great number of white teeth above his black goatee. “Your request is being transferred to the appropriate operator. Please standby.” Mark was astounded. It was Lemarik’s sing-song voice, somehow not quite. “All of our visitors are important to us. Please wait while your request is being processed.” They heard a loud click, a buzz and then they heard what could only be described as ‘elevator music’. They looked at each other in consternation.
Michael laughed and then covered his mouth with his hand, forgetting his recent fear and the loss of Galen temporarily. Selwig was mesmerized and Ashmodel tried to rub off the image with the heel of his palm.
“Your request has been noted. Please state your full name slowly and distinctly for proper identification and then, please standby.”
“John… Mark… Andrew…Larmenius… Ramsay, Knight of Death, Prince of the Grave, King of Terrors, Poor Knight of Solomon’s Temple, Lord Adar of the Seventh Gate, Ninnib, Prince of Saturn, Uriel, Fire of God!”
Before he could quite finish this exalted list, the stone rolled up like a scroll and the Mighty Djinni himself, swayed out of the opening onto the roof.
“Great Stars!” He greeted them unabashedly. “I have missed you!” He grabbed Mark and kissed him on both cheeks, and then Michael and Selwig, but stopped short of actually touching Ashmodel. He drew back and raised one eyebrow at the angel.
“Have you seen Galen?” Michael burst out before anything else could be said. “He was with us on the plain, and he disappeared.”
“I have seen no one other than the usual suspects,” Lemarik said and pulled on his beard. “I will send out a scouting party at once. Please come inside. All of you! And you, too.” He nodded to Ashmodel. “This is such a pleasant surprise. There are many who would speak with you, Adar. We are puzzled and baffled. Many things have happened.”
Mark had no time to speak before his unlikely son was drawing him inside the opening cut in the rock and down a wide staircase. He talked on and on about the recent events. About Lucio’s visit and their subsequent decision to go to the Abyss, to the Seventh Gate, looking for Sophia and his brother, Mark, whom Nicole was sure would be found there. He spoke rapidly and soon Mark’s head was spinning. They stepped out of a long corridor into a banquet room filled with familiar faces. A long, low table offered an incomprehensible assortment of foods, drinks and delicacies. Servants darted back and forth renewing bowls and plates, clearing away soiled and empty vessels and making a great deal of fuss. When Mark Andrew’s party entered, the entire group fell silent.
A second later, he was being assaulted by Nicole, Gregory and Nicholas. They hugged him and talked at the same time. Beyond them, he could see William von Hetz, Dunya Kadif von Hetz, Aurora, Armand de Bleu and his beautiful faery wife. Michey was there and Konrad’s grandson, Leonardo. Jasmine sat at the head of the table with her beautiful daughter, Jeanine, at her side. He was startled to see Omar sitting next to his youngest sister and Bari Kadif wearing an exceedingly wonderful uniform. He recognized Jasmine’s son Seleurik, son of the Ifrit, Bombarik and even John Paul Sinclair-Ramsay sitting across from the Prophet, but his heart leapt into his throat when he locked eyes with Lucia Dambretti von Hetz and her brother, Marco.
At first, he thought he had found Galen Zachary and someone who favored Lucia, but the look in the young woman’s eyes told him it was not a case of mistaken identity. Marco, stood up slowly and walked toward him, and he thought his breath would fail him, but before Lucio’s firstborn son could reach him, he was spun around and hugged very tightly by someone he did not see, but only smelled, and he was almost knocked to his knees as he recognize the warm, exotic scent. Anna! Anna!
He pushed her back and looked into her deep brown eyes.
“Anna? Is it possible?” He asked and she smiled.
“Yes, Grandfather, it is very possible. In fact, it is I, Anna, your granddaughter,” she said and turned him slightly until his eyes fell on Jozsef Daniel.
“Hello, grandfather.” John Paul’s eldest son shook his hand and clasped him by the shoulder. “It is damned good to see you, Sir.”
Mark totally lost control of his emotions, which he thought was by now impossible, and he found himself kissing his grandson tearfully and then his son, John Paul, and then his daughter, Nicole again and Gregory and Nicholas and then Lemarik and finally he was led around the table to sit on a purple and white cushion near the head of the table. Marco eventually made it through the throng and shook his hand politely, before returning to his seat beside his sister, who looked at Mark doubtfully. Omar was the only one who did not acknowledge him. The Prophet sat eating grapes, one after another as if it were some great task.
“Lucia, you are looking well,” Mark addressed Lucia.
“As are you, Sir.”
“Does Konrad… have you seen him?” He asked. It was inconceivable that she would allow Konrad to suffer his grief for her for so long without letting him know she was alive and well.
“No,” she answered simply and offered no explanation for her presence. The conversation had returned and the room was filled with the babble of a dozen voices.
Lemarik sat on one side of him and Nicole wiggled her way between her father and John Paul.
“Papa,” she began when he turned his attention on her. “I know all of this must be confusing for you, but you must listen to me. I know that you don’t believe much in my abilities, but I have been trying to learn how to use my powers. Now I think I know where Mark and Sophia are. I don’t know what happened in the Djinni’s transporter room, but it was really crazy. We were all standing there waiting to beam out to the Seventh Gate, and then, nothing happened. Lucio and Vanni were the only ones who went anywhere… I know! I know how you feel about Lucio and I’m really sorry that I lost him again. It wasn’t my fault. You’ve got to believe me. I can’t get Lemarik or John Paul to do anything. They want to counsel and counsel. We need to get going. Lucio might be in trouble, and I’m quite sure Sophia and Mark are in trouble already and…” he held up one hand to stop her.
“Lemarik has told me about the aborted trip, Nicole,” he told her in a low voice. “What makes you think they are in the Seventh Gate?”
“I saw them in a trance,” she matched his whisper. “John Paul also thinks they are there. Don’t you, John?” She looked at her half-brother, and he nodded solemnly.
“And where is Luke Andrew? Have you seen him?” Mark asked her. “Have you seen Luke Matthew or Meredith?” He raised one eye at John Paul.
“Queen Meredith is not in London,” John Paul told him quietly. “I don’t know where she is. Meredith is in Italy, I believe.”
“Italy?” Mark frowned. It was none of his business. “What about Lucio? What do you think, John?”
“I think Nicole may be right, but there is more here than meets the eye, Papa,” John said looked around the table before continuing. Mark was surprised to see him shudder. He had come to think of John Paul as something even more powerful than an angel or a Lord of the Abyss or even himself. “I did not come here of my own free will.”
“No?” Mark swallowed hard.
“And neither did Lucia or Marco,” he whispered and then smiled at Aurora. She would not take her eyes off of her husband. She’d not seen him in ages. “They were in the First Gate with Meredith and me.” He paused as Lavon’s triplets came running past the table, chasing one of
the peacocks, laughing and giggling.
“They’ve been there all along?” He asked in growing consternation. Here was another inconceivable idea. Lucio’s grief over Lucia and Marco was deep, as deep as his own grief over losing Meredith.
“Of course, but Meredith did not leave on her own volition. We were all ‘taken’ it seems. I would hazard a guess, your Galen and Sir Dambretti are also pawns in whatever this is. I was taken completely unawares and I find myself severely limited in my ability to restore any sort of order to our situation. I need more information. I don’t know which direction to look.” John Paul looked at Omar. “He has seen something, Papa. We need to find out what it was.”
“He followed Huber down below the palace in New Babylon,” Mark told him, and Nicole insinuated herself between them again. “I have not seen him again until now.”
“Don’t leave me out of this, Daddy,” Nicole said. “I organized this expedition. I need your help. We need to go after Lucio and the others.”
“We have to learn what Omar knows,” Mark said and turned his deep blue eyes on his daughter.
“Oh, no you don’t!” She leaned back from him and frowned back from the same eyes. “Lucio has already tried that one and it didn’t work. I will not be taken in by your fatherly charms.” She lowered her voice and peeked around him at the Prophet. “Omar has been chasing me around the palace ever since the transporter failed.”
Mark and John Paul both looked down the table at the clueless son of the Djinni. Jasmine was helping him get a fat strawberry covered with cream into his mouth, and he thought it was very funny. He seemed able to speak well enough, but he moved like a stroke victim trying to regain control over his extremities.
“We really need to know, baby girl.” Mark looked Nicole again.
“Oh, that’s really low,” she snapped at him. “You know I would have fallen for that a few years ago.”
“We won’t let anything happen to you,” John Paul assured her. “Besides, you know how the Order feels about first marriages. Did you ever get your Bill of Divorcement from him?”
“My God!” She covered her mouth with her hand to quiet herself. “I died, remember? He was an official widower.”
“That’s absurd,” Mark Andrew turned his attention back to the Prophet, and spoke to Lemarik. “How is Omar?”
“He is doing much better.” The Djinni held up one slender hand and flipped it back and forth slowly. “He comes and he goes. Mostly he goes, but he is coming back more quickly now.”
“That’s good. Do you think we might talk to him… in private?” Mark asked him.
“He is your grandson. Of course you can speak to him. Who is… we?”
“Myself, John Paul… Nicole.”
“Hmmmm,” the Djinni narrowed his eyes. “He has already scared her away twice.”
“They say the third time is the charm,” Mark smiled at him and then stabbed a heavy meat fork into a crusty side of roasted ribs. “Is this mutton or goat?”
“Mutton,” the Djinni leaned back and studied his beautiful son as he drifted away again under the attention of both his sister and his step-mother. “Perhaps they are right.”
“Who? Who is right?” Mark asked him as he carved off a slab of meat for himself.
“They, they who said that the third time is the charm,” Lemarik twirled his beard around his fingers.
“Oh, by the by, that was beautiful Muzak you played for us. Now, tell me about this ‘transporter’ of yours.” Mark popped a chunk of meat in his mouth and grinned at Ashmodel, who had situated himself directly across the table. Ashmodel scowled deeply at him. The angel was a devout vegetarian, adhering to a diet of bread, honey and locusts much like Lucifer and his band. Mark never cared much for eating insects even when they were roasted or covered in chocolate.
Chapter Nine of Sixteen
Who is this that darkeneth counsel
by words without knowledge?
Cardinal Gambrelli slipped the white robe over his head and smoothed down the silky fabric. The material felt perfectly sinful against his naked skin beneath it. The embroidery had been hard to come by. No one seemed to do such things anymore and he’d had to travel over a hundred miles to find someone skilled enough to sew the intricate symbols on the sleeves and hem and it had cost him a small fortune in gold. But the price had been worth it. The robe was wonderful, giving him a feeling of power even before he had uttered a word. He checked the chalk markings on the tiled floor, made sure his lighter worked and all the things he needed for the invocation were close at hand. He wished fervently that he could have acquired some helpers, some acolytes, but that would be something to work on when he had returned from the Holy Lands. He would develop an inner circle and train them in the Arts. No one would question him. He would be God’s personal envoy on Earth.
He swirled the robe about him as he walked back and forth making certain that everything was perfect. It could not be otherwise. He would be summoning the Father, the very Face of God. It had to be perfect.
When he was ready, he lit the incense in the censor and walked around the circle counterclockwise, starting at the south Cardinal point in defiance of nature. He walked backwards, slowly, swinging the brass incense burner back and forth, repeating the Lord’s Prayer backwards as he went. This was no easy task. Years of training had to be repressed in order to do this unthinkable act, but he had to show he was contrary to nature and the laws of nature, he was above the workings of nature; nature could not touch him. This would put him on an equal footing with the Creator, Who was also above the reach of nature. When he reached the south point again, he stopped and set the censor in the north in defiance of the angels of the Earth. He held up the basin of Holy Water briefly and then set it at the southern point in defiance of the angels of Fire. He placed a bowl of earth in the east in defiance of the angels of Air and in the west he placed a candle to defy the angels of Water. A small twinge of fear shivered up his spine as he thought of how these things could go horribly wrong if he was not successful. The four elements would be insulted by his actions if he did not capture the attention of God and win him over.
“O Lord of Heaven and of Earth, before Thee do I confess my sins, and lament them, cast down and humbled in Thy presence,” he began the confession by crossing his arms over his heart, placing his hands on either shoulder and bowing his head in supplication. “For I have sinned before Thee by pride, avarice and boundless desire of honors and riches; by idleness, gluttony, greed, debauchery and drunkenness,” Cardinal Gambrelli’s mind revolted slightly at confessing things that he had not committed, but it was part of the ritual. “Because I have offended Thee by all kinds of sins of the flesh, adulteries and pollutions, which I have committed myself, and consented that others should commit; by sacrilege, thefts, rapine, violation and…” Gambrelli licked his lips nervously. Most of the sins were far from him though he had consented to the commission of some of them by others in the course of his lifetime the next one was hardest to say. “Homicide; by the evil I have made of my possessions, by my prodigality, by the sins which I have committed against Hope and Charity, by my evil advice, flatteries, bribes and the ill distribution which I have made of the goods of which I have been possessed, by repulsing and maltreating the poor, in the distribution which I have made of the goods committed to my charge, by afflicting those over whom I have been set in authority, by not visiting the prisoners, by depriving the dead of burial…” The confession went on endlessly. Whatever magician, whether it was Solomon the Wise or some other, perhaps Apolonius di Napoli, he had certainly known the sins of the clergy. Apolonius had most likely been a monk or even a priest or a Bishop.
The confession finally completed, he replenished the censor’s supply of incense, replaced the stub of the candle and set about saying the first prayer.
“O Lord All Powerful, Eternal God and Father of all Creatures, shed upon me the Divine Influence of Thy Mercy, for I am Thy creature. I beseech Thee to defend me from
mine enemies and to confirm in me true and steadfast faith,” he closed his eyes briefly. He could not afford to mispronounce or omit a single word of the supplication. “Thou who knowest that I perform not this ceremony to tempt Thy power, but that we may penetrate into the knowledge of hidden things, O most Holy Adonai, Whoes kingdom and Power shall have no end unto ages and ages of men. Amen.”
He knelt in the center of the circle and laid one hand on the copper pentacles there while opening the book of Apolonius with the other. He closed his eyes and silently approached each quarter in his mind before saying: “O Lord, be Thou unto me a strong tower of refuge, from the sight and assaults of the Evil Spirits!”
The Cardinal straightened his robes as he stood again and surveyed his work one last time. So far, nothing had come from the depths of hell to devour him and he took that as a good sign. He picked up the consecrated pentacles and held it high over his head.
“O ye spirits, I defy ye! I rebuke ye by the Power, Wisdom and Virtue of the Spirit of God, by the uncreate Divine Knowledge, by the vast Mercy of God, by the Strength of God, by the Greatness of God, I repel thee. Draw not nigh to this circle, trouble me not with your murmurs.”
He turned a full circle counterclockwise, admonishing the spirits of the angels of the elements to leave his presence at each quarter repeating the words. Done with the revocation, he proceeded with the invocation.
“By Thy Holy Name God Eheu, by Thy Greatness, by Thy Unity, I call unto Thee, O Lord!” He began the words of the forbidden incantation and there was no turning back. “I invoke Thee, by the words which were given unto Job, Thy Humble Servant. I conjure Ye by the most holy Name of El, which is that of the Living God, through the virtue of which alliance with us, and redemption for us have been made; which Moses invoked and all the waters returned to their prior state and enveloped the Egyptians, so that not one of them escaped to carry the news to the Land of Mizraim.”
The Perfect Sun Page 18