‘Can you sit up?’ the doctor asks.
‘Of course.’ Satori lifts his torso from the bed.
‘What day is it?’ the doctor asks Satori.
‘I really have no idea. It’s hard to distinguish night from day here.’
‘Has this happened before?’ the doctor asks.
‘I believe I may have narcolepsy,’ Satori answers.
‘Hmmm, has that been diagnosed?’
‘No it hasn’t.’
‘What happened last time?’ the doctor asks.
‘My mum couldn’t wake me and she called an ambulance.’
‘How long were you out for?’
‘About 24 hours, I think,’ Satori says.
‘I’ll need a few blood samples to run some tests,’ the doctor tells him.
‘I won’t give my consent until my lawyer gets here.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t trust you,’ Satori answers.
The doctor blushes. ‘Very well. I can take them after the interview, with your consent.’
D.I. Long glares at Satori. ‘How much longer, doctor?’
‘I thought we were waiting for his lawyer,’ says the doctor.
‘No we’re just calling her to let her know,’ says D.I. Long.
‘Very well. A few more moments then,’ the doctor replies.
The doctor takes a stethoscope and places it against Satori’s chest. Satori breathes in then out. His eyes sparkle with tears. The doctor unravels a tube and straps a canvas band around Satori’s arm. He checks the patient’s blood pressure and nods.
‘Cross your legs please, Mr Michaels. I need to check your reflexes.’
D.I. Long taps his foot impatiently.
‘Okay, everything seems to be normal, but I will need to take those blood samples as soon as possible. It’s important for us to know if there’s an underlying condition.’
The doctor stands up, crosses the room and nods at the Detective Inspector. The two men leave the room together.
After a few minutes D.I. Long returns alone, scowling. ‘Are you mad?’ he asks Satori.
‘What?’
‘Have you ever had a psychiatric assessment, Mr Michaels?’
‘No, and no I’m not mad,’ Satori says.
‘Good.’
Satori lies back onto his cot and closes his eyes.
‘You’re needed in the interview room.’
‘I need sleep. Just a couple of hours.’
‘Now!’
Satori rises from the bed and frowns at the detective. A smile is given in return. They want this. They want me confused and on edge. Be careful Satori. Reluctantly, he follows D.I. Long out of the cell.
Chapter 48
‘Who are you?’ Freya calls to the silhouette. ‘Satori?’
‘You have forgotten me already? Did the bruises last longer than your memory?’ The voice is deep and rich. Its bass makes Freya’s uterus shudder in recognition.
‘Samael?’
‘What are you doing here, child?’ he asks.
‘I’m looking for Lilith.’
‘Do you seek death?’
Freya shakes her head.
‘What then?’ he asks.
‘Escape.’
‘Binah wouldn’t be my first choice for a holiday destination.’ The silhouette does not change, but Freya imagines Samael is smiling.
She laughs. ‘And yet I’ve been made to feel so welcome. The locals couldn’t wait to taste a piece of me.’ Freya shows Samael the stump at her shoulder.
‘You’re very calm about your loss,’ he says.
‘I’m used to losing. Anyway, I left another body behind for insurance.’
The silhouette nods.
‘Come closer,’ Freya tells him.
‘This isn’t my land. I do not enter without her invitation.’
‘I was invited,’ Freya replies.
‘Are you sure?’ Samael asks.
‘What do you mean? She told me how to get here.’
‘That’s not the same thing. If you were invited Siloth would not have attacked you.’
‘Do you think it will attack again?’ Freya asks.
Samael shrugs.
‘Can I come with you?’ she asks.
‘No. Where I am is not for your eyes,’ Samael tells her.
‘Why?’
‘It would lead to madness.’ Samael answers.
‘Then I guess I’d better go and call on my old pal Lilith while I’m in the neighborhood.’
Samael laughs. ‘Have fun. Call me when you get home.’
Freya smiles. Flirting with a demon, how delicious? ‘Perhaps you’ll answer more quickly next time?’
‘I like you, Freya. You amuse me.’ Samael’s silhouette fades.
Freya looks around her at the twilight world of Binah. ‘Lilith,’ she calls.
Silence surrounds her.
‘Where are you?’
A golden light shines in the distance. ‘Is that you, goddess?’ Freya’s voice is soft and full of reverence.
She stands up and starts walking. The earth crumbles beneath her footsteps. Apart from the light ahead, everything looks desaturated, as if lit by moonlight. The air is chill and Freya shivers, aware of her nakedness. The stump at her shoulder throbs. The light looks far away. Will it take long to walk there? What if it isn’t Lilith but the gateway to some other plane? Freya feels tired. She wonders why she is here. She had thought it was by invitation, but if not how will Lilith receive her? Especially now she has lost Satori’s dagger. She shivers again, as much from fear of Lilith’s fury as from the cold. She wishes Samael had joined her. She could match her pace to the demon’s and arrive at her destination exhilarated. Without him the pilgrimage seems lonely, her purpose unclear.
Freya shakes her head clear and keeps walking towards the light. She thinks of her insurance, Deya, back on earth. Adventures are less frightening when there is a save point to which you may return. If Lilith welcomes me I will gladly help her. If she turns me away, well, at least I have a change of scenery for a while.
Chapter 49
D.I. Long moves aside and lets Satori step into the room before him. D.S. Cummins and the doctor are already waiting. The doctor sits on a chair in the corner of the room, a clipboard of notes on his lap. The female detective stands beside him. She looks up from the notes as Satori enters.
‘Take a seat, Mr Michaels,’ she says.
As he sits down Satori exhales loudly. Six eyes bore into him. He tries to ignore them and looks at his hand. There is no mark, but his memory superimposes the letter on his skin.
‘Before you zoned out, we were discussing Miss Brown and Mr Foster. Do you remember?’ D.S. Cummins asks.
‘Yes. You’d found some items at Paul’s you wanted me to look at.’
‘That’s true and you claimed you introduced Sarah Brown to Lilith.’ She steers the conversation away from the artifacts.
Satori feels disorientated. ‘Yes.’
‘Tell us about Lilith, Mr Michaels,’ says D.I. Long.
‘The last time I saw her she had long black hair. She’s almost six feet tall and she’s a killer.’ Satori looks from one detective to the other, wondering who will speak next.
‘And the first time you saw her?’ D.I. Long asks.
‘Her hair was red then.’ Satori focuses on the male detective.
D.S. Cummins asks the next question. ‘Where is she now?’
Satori looks towards her. ‘Somewhere you can’t reach.’
‘But you believe you can, don’t you?’
Satori stares at Detective Cummins. What does she know?
‘Donna McKenzie woke up in the hospital this morning, about the time that you zoned out on us. She dreamt that you were pursuing Lilith. Most of what she said didn’t make much sense, but she is certain you know where Lilith is hiding,’ continues D.S. Cummins.
‘Donna! Is she okay?’ Satori feels wide awake. Donna!
‘She’s doing rema
rkably well.’
‘Oh thank god!’
‘How well do you know Miss McKenzie? We were told there was no love lost between the two of you.’ D.I. Long asks.
‘That isn’t true. We’re very close.’ Satori turns his attention to the doctor and watches him scribble notes.
‘And yet you tried to break into her house,’ says the male detective, dragging Satori’s attention back to the table.
‘No, I was angry. I smashed some glass, that’s true, but I never tried to go in.’
‘Why didn’t she answer the door to you if you were friends?’ D.I. Long’s voice betrays his frustration.
Satori shrugs. ‘She was grieving.’
‘So where is Lilith?’ D.S. Cummins asks.
‘Lilith isn’t a normal human being.’ Satori answers.
‘What is she then?’ D.I. Long glances at the doctor then back to Satori.
‘I’d like to see my lawyer,’ Satori says.
‘She’ll be here soon. What is Lilith?’ D.I. Long asks again.
‘I’ll cooperate when she gets here. Wasn’t this interview supposed to be about Paul? Wasn’t I supposed to be a material witness, not the accused?’
D.I. Long sighs. ‘Paul Foster, did you have sexual relations with him?’
Satori nods.
‘For the tape please,’ D.S. Cummins says.
‘Yes,’ Satori confirms.
‘What do you know of Paul’s past?’ D.I. Long asks.
‘Not much. He’s studied magic for many years. He’s older than me although I don’t know how much older. He’s written a few historical books. I imagine he kept a diary.’
‘We found a diary. You feature quite heavily in it.’ D.I. Long’s voice changes again. His tone sounds mocking.
Satori blushes.
‘Yes. He wrote a lot about you. He also wrote about “the Marshall of France”’ D.I. Long lowers his voice almost to a whisper.
‘Who?’ Satori asks.
‘Gilles de Rais.’
Satori nods.
‘Who was Gilles de Rais?’ D.S. Cummins asks.
‘Bluebeard, a child-killing nobleman from Medieval France, around the time of Joan of Arc. You have heard of Joan of Arc?’ Satori answers.
‘Of course. And was this a subject he was interested in?’ D.S. Cummins’ voice reveals nothing other than curiosity.
‘I would imagine so. What other reason would there be for writing about an obscure historical figure?’
‘You say Gilles de Rais killed children?’ D.I. Long asks.
‘Yes. That was what he was accused of by people who wanted a piece of his wealth,’ Satori replies. ‘Who knows though? It was a long time ago and there are often partisan motivations for accusing someone of murder, aren’t there?’
‘Do you believe the bones we found in Paul’s cellar might be connected with his research?’ D.I. Long asks.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Did he ever discuss his research with you?’ D.S. Cummins asks.
‘No.’
‘Too busy with other things, I guess,’ D.S. Cummins says.
D.I. Long turns to his colleague and frowns then resumes eye contact with Satori. ‘I find it highly unlikely, Mr Michaels, that a man who was obviously infatuated with you would not share such titbits of information.’
‘Why would he think for one moment that the idea of him killing children would be attractive to me?’ Satori asks.
‘You’re a magician too, aren’t you?’ D.S. Cummins answers.
‘Yes, but I’m not a murderer.’
No one speaks. They condemn him with their silence. Satori scratches his arms then his legs. Their unspoken accusations are like leeches, biting into his flesh and sucking his strength from him.
‘I didn’t kill Star. I tried to help her, but she couldn’t face coming back…to this.’
‘Donna McKenzie says you’re still trying to help Sarah,’ D.S. Cummins says.
Satori is silent.
‘Do you believe Miss Brown is still alive?’ asks D.I. Long.
‘No,’ says Satori.
D.S. Cummins smiles. ‘Are you trying to help her with magic?’
‘Yes.’
‘Like Dante’s Inferno?’ asks D.I. Long.
Satori looks up at D.I. Long and smiles. ‘Yes.’
‘And what do you hope to achieve?’
‘A miracle.’
No one speaks. D.I. Long looks from Satori to the doctor and his colleague then back to Satori. He clears his throat and stares at Satori with a mixture of cynicism, humour and awe.
‘We’re going to bring in a few items of evidence and we’d like to record your opinion as to what each might be,’ D.S. Cummins says at last.
‘Paul’s things?’ asks Satori.
‘Yes,’ D.S. Cummins answers.
Satori nods. ‘Okay.’
The Detective Sergeant leaves the interview room and returns with two other officers and six cardboard boxes. Two officers leave the room and the boxes crouch together beside the wall. Satori feels the temperature in the room drop and shivers.
‘Are you okay?’ D.S. Cummins asks.
‘Of course,’ Satori replies.
‘You’re shaking,’ she says.
‘I’m just cold and very tired,’ he replies.
The doctor makes a note on his stack of papers and D.S. Cummins opens the first box. Satori was expecting a build up of tension, a few ordinary pieces of magic paraded before him to be dismissed as no more than ornaments or simple focusing tools. He was wrong. The first thing removed from the box is the Vessel of Balon. Satori breathes sharply as he sees it. The clay is still in place. Voices whisper from behind the obsidian eyes, a trio of malevalance.
‘What’s wrong?’ D.S. Cummins asks.
Satori whitens. Should I warn them? They’ll think I’m crazy if I do. What harm can it do? The spirits are angry with Paul and Paul is dead. If they break the seal perhaps the demons will simply leave. He swallows hard and shakes his head.
‘You know what this is, don’t you?’ D.I. Long says.
Satori shakes his head harder.
‘Yes you do. What is it? This grotesque sculpture. There’s something inside, isn’t there? I can smell it. How do you open it?’ D.I. Long reaches towards the item.
‘I wouldn’t open it.’ Satori stares at the vessel, shaking his head.
‘It’s evidence. I wanted you to identify it before I got forensics involved. What is it? You know, and you need to tell us,’ D.I. Long says.
‘Pure anger. Paul made it. It will only work for him. It was created to tell him the truth, an oracle. All that’s left is rage.’
‘Anger, rage? It’s a mask. A sculpture.’ D.I. Long withdraws his hand.
‘If you believe that why do you need to ask me?’
‘I want to know how it was made and why.’
‘I’ve already told you that,’ Satori answers.
‘But what’s inside?’ D.I. Long prods at the clay stopper with his pen.
Satori stands up and holds out his arms. ‘Don’t!’
‘Why not?’
‘It could kill us all and I’m not ready to die yet.’
‘It can only hurt you if you believe in it, right? Tell me everything or I’ll push the seal through the mouth and see for myself,’ D.I. Long threatens.
Satori sits back down and stares at the table. ‘It’s called the Vessel of Balon. It’s created with clay, obsidian, magical words and symbols as a cage for spirits. They’re drawn into the head by metal and a blood paste hidden inside the cranium. Once inside they are forced to answer truthfully any question put to it by its maker. If the seal is broken they will tear the maker apart. However, the maker isn’t here; he’s already dead and if you let them out they may take out their rage on us instead.’ Satori brushes a bead of sweat from his forehead. He maintains eye contact with the Detective Inspector, hoping the truth will convince him to leave the head alone.
‘Blood paste? Whos
e blood?’ D.I. Long asks.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps one of the children,’ Satori answers.
‘We can DNA test it,’ D.S. Cummins suggests.
‘Not here. Don’t open it here. You said if I told you everything you would keep it sealed.’
‘Yes that’s true. Very well. The next object…’ D.I. Long looks meaningfully at D.S. Cummins and the doctor.
D.S. Cummins nods and returns the head to its box.
‘There won’t be anything else in there that comes close to the Vessel. It will be daggers, brushes, books and sigils. No more than totems.’ Satori says.
‘All the same, we’ve got nothing better to do while we wait for your lawyer.’ D.I. Long smiles and relaxes back into his chair.
Chapter 50
Freya’s journey is mind-numbingly monotonous. How did Satori cope with this? I think I’d prefer to meet Siloth again than keep walking through this colourless, characterless land. This cannot be Lilith’s home. She’s so vibrant and exciting. How could she tolerate the boredom of this world, where nothing changes, and nothing happens? I must be in the wrong place. No. I’m in Binah. Samael said it was her world.
‘Lilith, where are you? Where am I?’ Perpetual twilight…Held between day and night…Limbo. ‘Guide me, you fucking bitch! Don’t desert me. I’ve worshipped you, listened to you, killed for you.’
Freya looks behind her. The glow, which silhouetted Samael from her, looks miles away. She could have been walking for hours or days through the unchanging landscape. The greyness makes her twitch. Her head buzzes as if full of insects and she wonders whether she is going crazy.
‘I’m sorry, Lilith. Goddess! I didn’t mean to call you a bitch. You are everything to me. Please forgive me.’
Freya sings to herself. She uses the rhythm of her heartbeat echoed by the throbbing of her shoulder. She changes her stride between shorter and longer steps and adds a few spins as she journeys. The external landscape doesn’t change, but her internal vista pleases her.
She considers sleep. She must have been here for twenty-four hours or longer, but she does not feel tired, simply bored. With sleep might come dreams. Freya has always appreciated her dreams. Fantasies are an escape from my mundane existence. Yet this, travelling to Binah to join my goddess, was supposed to be my ultimate escape. How can I be so wrong? This endless walk, this isn’t freedom. It is simply a cage without walls. ‘Goddess, give me some sign that I should stay.’
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