Blessed by Fire

by P W Hillard

  The crowd parted, as Claire stepped calmly from within. She took a few steps forward from the throng, taking up a position a few yards from Jess. The teenager’s body was broken. Cauterised wounds covered her face and body. Great gashes had been torn from dress, it was different from the one Jess had seen before, a full-length maxi dress, vivid red with deep pockets on each side.

  “Fancy seeing you again,” Jess said smiling sarcastically.

  “It was only a matter of time really, you were never going to let this go, were you?” asked Claire. Jess shook her head.

  “That’s not what we do. This stops right here, right now.” Jess shook her shoulders, readying herself.

  “We? So, there’s more of you? Is that lovely gentleman you were with the other day here? No, no there’s more than that. Bold of you to cast that beacon spell. Where did you learn that by the way?” Claire examined her nails, ignoring the bloodstains that ran to her elbows.

  “I got my sources,” answered Jess coyly. “I don’t suppose if I arrest you that you’ll all come quietly?” As one the pack of Jinn burst into a horrible throaty chorus of laughter.

  “No, no you’re right, we wouldn’t. You couldn’t even if you wanted. Angels and demons fall before us. Humans are nothing, fleshly little upstarts walking around like they own the place. We were here long before you,” said Claire with a sneer.

  “And yet you need us to walk around, be your little taxis around town.”

  “A temporary arrangement,” replied Claire, her words filled with venom. “Until I find a more permanent solution. It’s so easy by the way, all we need to do is promise to right their wrongs and they just invite us right in.” Claire cracked a toothy grin.

  “I don’t think any of these people would want someone dead. Did you tell them that before you barged your way in?” Jess was shouting, Claire’s attitude angering her.

  “Well, not everything involved a death, a fixed car here, a finished book there. Your kind do have a unique capacity for hatred though. But no, we just said we would fix things. You know your kind has some legends of us as bumbling blue idiots trapped in lamps granting wishes. I suppose we do grant wishes when you think about it. Be careful what you wish for and all that.” Claire let out a deep chuckle.

  “I’m going to give you one warning,” declared Jess. “Release your hosts and return to your void.”

  “Or what!? You’ll burn us with your little torch?” screamed Claire. “Girl fire is nothing to us, we are fire, the primal heat at the birth of the universe. You are kindling before us!”

  “Fire I’ll give you, but every bit of lore, everything I’ve seen declares Jinn to be a smokeless flame.”

  “So! We are pure, elemental flames of the highest order!”

  “Exactly,” Jess said. “It’s the smoke I want.”

  With a click Jess flicked the flint wheel, the lighter sparking to life. She touched the tiny flame to the makeshift torch and it roared into life. The flame was hotter than Jess expected, the petrol-soaked rag burning with a violent hunger. Thick black smoke began to rise from the dirty cloth and Jess thrust the torch high above her head, a blazing trophy in the gloom. The smoke wafted upwards, spreading out across the ceiling. In an instant there was the ringing of a bell, a pulsing message bellowed by the fire alarm. Jess waited, the split second for what came next stretching out into an eternity. There was a dull rumble at first as unused valves creaked open, water cascading through pipes that had been dry for years. Like a typhoon the water burst forth, pouring from the sprinklers that dotted the building.

  Finding the right kind of building was important. It couldn’t have been too old, or it wouldn’t have had the sprinklers at all. Too new and it likely wouldn’t have a reservoir, newer buildings drawing directly from the mains more efficiently. They also needed to ensure the sprinklers covered every section of the building, so not to miss any Jinn. The idea had been formed once they had the beacon spell. They had the cheese, now they needed the mousetrap.

  The water, blessed by the Quran, mixed with blackseed oil and honey poured onto the Jinn. They writhed in agony on the ground, steam rising from their skin as the water splashed down on them. One Jinn screeched, a gout of flame fighting its way free from the host only to meet more water, winking out of existence with a puff of black smoke. Another broke forth, then another. Each now empty host lay on the floor, steam no longer rising from them. It was working, slowly each Jinn was being banished, the torrent of blessed water freeing their captives. All but one. Claire stood perfectly still, her eyes fixed on Jess. Steam poured from her skin, red welts starting to form as the heat began to burn it. She screamed, and ran at Jess, launching into a dive that struck her in the chest, the now sodden torch clattering to the ground.

  “I will rip off your skin and wear you like a cape as I kill your friends!” shouted Claire. She had gripped Jess by the shoulders, knees pressed to her chest. She pulled her forward and slammed her into the carpet. “You think this will work on me! There is no girl left in here anymore, I suffocated her soul, slowly, snubbed it out like a cigarette! This body is mine now! No possession to break!” She slammed Jess into the ground again. “Blessed water, how clever. But I too am blessed! Blessed by fire, blessed by the forces of creation itself!” Jess writhed in pain, she was finding it difficult to breath. She strained, reached down towards her pocket. “Struggle woman! It will only make your death more satis- “Claire grunted as Jess struck her in the side of the head with a baton. A thin burn ran alongside her head, another wound for the collection. She turned, coming up to a crouch eager to resume her attack but Jess was too quick, bringing the baton around in a wide arc. The second strike hit Claire in the jaw, the sicking smell of burning flesh filling the air as the impact burnt her again. She tumbled to the floor, rolling herself away before righting herself.

  “Iron baton,” said Jess. She waved the baton with one hand, the other held her bruised side. “Normally we use these for fairies and the like but seeing as you have an aversion to it too. Never can be too careful.”

  “Fuck you,” spat Claire.

  “Now that’s not nice. At least this way I get to arrest you. Entity possessing Claire, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder, kidnapping- “stared Jess, removing a set of iron handcuffs from the waist band of her trousers. Claire held up her hands, small balls of blue fire rested on her palms.

  “Stop, or I’ll incinerate you!” Claire threatened.

  “Not likely, there are dispel scrolls stored under the ceiling tiles on this and every floor, plus what I have on my person. Remember last time?”

  “You’re right,” sneered Claire, “I do remember last time.” She drew had hands together before her lips and blew.

  The blast shook the building across the street, the powerful magic losing its coherency. From his vantage point across the street Rajan watched as the windows on the third floor opposite shattered, the form of a young girl crashing through the glass. Her body struck a streetlamp denting it from the force. She hit the ground awkwardly, her leg twisting around as it did. Bone burst forth from her skin, blood splattering across the pavement. To Rajan’s amazement the girl stood up, and began limping away down the street, the bone in her leg sliding up and down as she walked. He stood up from his seated position on the carpet and ran to the lift doors across the floor behind him. He slammed the button over and over, frantically waiting for the lift to slide its way to his floor.

  “Holy shit are you ok?” Mark put one hand on Jess’ shoulder. She was soaked through from the sprinklers. One arm on her jacket had torn at the shoulder. A bruise peaked out from under her shirt.

  “I think so? Bit bruised and battered. Crazy thing deliberately cast a spell to blow out the fucking window. Good thing I had a little distance from her. Fuck. “Jess slid to the floor, holding tight to her side. “She got a good few licks in. Nothings broken. Few days and I’ll be good.” They were stood at the doorway that led to the small access stairs on the roof. The chain th
at had sealed it shut lay on the floor.

  “You guys…ok?” Aasif panted as he emerged from around the corner. “God, I fucking hate stairs.”

  “Don’t you go running?” laughed Jess.

  “Not up and down stairs I don’t. You should see dale, he’s still a floor down. I notice we have a bunch of sleeping beauties. It worked right?” Like Jess Aasif was soaked through. The sprinklers had stopped for now. The sodden carpet squelched as Aasif took a seat next to Jess.

  “We didn’t get all of them. Claire, the first one. She seemed immune. Mentioned something about ousting Claire’s, the real Claire’s soul and owning the body.” Jess pulled at the torn sleeve ripping it free from the jacket completely. She tossed it across the room.

  “Guess that makes sense,” mused Mark. He leant against the doorframe. “If the water frees you from possession, if she owns the body outright, is it still possession?”

  “Nine tenths of the law I guess,” Jess said, smiling nervously at her own joke. “We better call the locals, get these people to the hospital.”

  Jess and Dale sat on the small step leading up to the back of the ambulance, their bodies covered with a silver blanket that crackled as they moved. Aasif was leaning on the side of the ambulance, wrapping himself tightly with a similar blanket.

  “We’re going with the chemical spill cover story. That normally works. The handful that are awake don’t seem to remember anything, which is a mercy I guess,” said Mark, the cold night starting to get to him even though he was the only one who had remained dry, his final fall-back position meaning he had spent the night on the roof.

  “Any sign of Raj?” Dale asked.

  “When you say it like that you almost sound worried,” answered Rajan, stepping around from the other side of the ambulance.

  “Where did you vanish off too?” Dales eyes narrowed at him.

  “I saw our girl fall from the third floor and start taking off. When I got to the bottom floor she was gone, can’t have gotten far, her leg was all messed up. Thought I might be able to find her.”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t,” said Mark.

  “You are right, even with that smashed leg she was a nippy little thing.”

  “That’s ok,” interjected Jess. “We just need to find my phone.”

  “Sorry? You and phones never mix,” Mark said, turning to face her.

  “Ha-ha very funny. No, I noticed something about her. Her dress had pockets,” Jess bounced excitedly as she spoke.

  “So, pockets?” Mark asked bemused. “What of them.”

  “My sister is always moaning about pockets. Girls don’t get them much apparently,” Dale said.

  “Dales right, we don’t. But her dress had them. I slipped my phone in whilst she was on me. So, we just need to find my phone, you know, with a laptop or something. Use the anti-theft thing to track it.” Jess smiled, pleased that losing her phone was on purpose this time.

  “Well then,” said Rajan. “Thank god for dresses with pockets.”

  Chapter 21

  The pain was near unbearable, even to Claire, the spirit within angrily trying to rewire its hosts brain to block it out. The thigh bone breaching the skin glistened wet with blood under the dim street lamps. She limped onwards, the office block and its shattered window disappearing into the night behind her. Claire cursed under her breath. She had wandered straight into that trap, arrogant of her own power. As she walked she stared down at her hands, a vivid crimson stained bright with blood. She barged off into the night, stamping angrily, blood spurting from her leg in an arc as she moved.

  Three detectives squeezed themselves around the tiny outdated laptop. The web browser painstakingly and slowly loading the page. Jess’ leg twitched impatiently, bouncing the laptop around. Mark and Rajan sat on either side of her. Mark was holding his phone into the air, desperately trying to get a better signal for the phones Wi-Fi hotspot. Rajan, as impatient as ever, was trying to load the same site on his phone.

  “Aha!” said Jess. “We’re in. Ok um…”

  “Um? What do you mean um?” Mark asked, his eyebrow raised.

  “It’s nothing, nothing, just need to remember my password for it.”

  “Can’t you just reset it?” added Rajan.

  “Uh, no, the email I used I don’t use anymore, and the password resets for that go to my other email which I normally access through my phone so…” replied Jess timidly. She made the same awkward half shrug half smile that her daughter had made when she had been caught stealing cookies.

  “That would be typical, foiled by you forgetting your own password.” Mark shot Jess a disappointed look. “Didn’t you write it down in one of your notebooks?”

  “No, that’s data security one-oh-one. Don’t write down your passwords.” Jess held the laptop tight to her lap, glaring at Mark over her shoulder.

  “Come on everyone writes them down. Most people’s phone contacts are ninety percent passwords and pin numbers,” Rajan said, placing his own phone into the pocket of his trousers.

  “Yeah and you write down everything in your notebooks,” continued Mark. “You have loggers in the Amazon sending you thank you letters over the paper you use, and this is the one thing you don’t write down?”

  “Look, you know I just listened at all those data protection seminars you know,” objected Jess. “Anyway, lets at least try. Ok so Lana one two three, there we go! In!”

  “You’re joking right?” asked Mark.

  The old metal double doors of the disused bakery slammed open as Claire hobbled through. The building was dark, the great oven unlit, its metal form looking in the shadows. Through curdled rune and bloodstained sigil Claire stepped, forward towards the towering appliance, its metal grill bared like fangs. Lain before it was a sheep’s carcass, its stomach torn open. Its innards spilled across the door, glistening in the faint moonlight creeping through the building’s high windows. The corpse lay in a pool of blood, long since dried past the point of usefulness. Holding her side Claire limped over to a large ramp which descended to a metal rolling shutter. It was a remnant of the building’s past, the place where lorries would have backed in to be loaded with baked goods. Now it was a charnel house, filled with the bodies of sheep stolen from the surrounding valleys. Claire grunted as she gripped one by the foreleg and dragged it up the concrete ramp to the bakery floor. She knelt, her exposed bone tearing further at her flesh. With a thrust she jabbed her hand into the soft sheep’s stomach and began to tear apart its skin.

  A tiny green dot flashed on the map, blinking happily as it finally settled on a location. It was shockingly close, a small building that a cursory Google search revealed to be a former bakery. Jess grinned at the screen.

  “We got her, she’s only a few streets over. Come on let’s go.” Jess leapt up and immediately regretted it, doubling over and releasing a long hissing noise.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” said Mark, easing Jess back down onto the ambulances step. “She did a right number on you. Sit this one out.”

  “Fat fucking chance. I need to see this through, make sure it’s over,” objected Jess. She set the laptop down next to her and slipped off the silver emergency blanket. “I’m coming with.”

  “Don’t think we’re going to convince her otherwise,” said Rajan, “we should let her come, as long as she stays in the van.”

  “Oh, I can stay in the van, can I? Tell me sir, may I also vote? Would you like me to shine your shoes whilst I’m at it?” Jess stared at him, her eyes piercing daggers. Rajan sighed.

  “You know I didn’t mean that,” he said. “Just don’t want you to get hurt even worse.”

  “I agree with Raj. If you come you stay in the Van, be our getaway driver in case we need to make a hasty retreat. You’ll be safe but also useful, sound good?” Mark crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Jess.

  “Christ, I feel like a teenager again, trying to argue curfew with my parents. Fine, I’ll stay in the van.” Jess stood up
and stretched her arms. A sharp pain ran across her side. She winced. “Go get Aasif and Dale, we need to get a move on”

  “What’s going to happen to all these people?” Aasif asked as he waved off one of the other constables from his station. He turned away, walking back towards the ambulances, Dale locked in step.

  “Well that depends,” mused Dale. “It’s up to the prosecutor really.”

  “There’s a special prosecutor?”

  “Oh yeah,” replied Dale, twisting past a paramedic. “We have a prosecutor, a handful of judges. Not many, it’s going to take a long time to work through all these possible cases.”

  “Possible?” questioned Aasif.

  “Well it depends on what each Jinn did for each person. If it’s just doing the garden up nice then that’s fine, but we know there’s at least a few murders.”

  “But these people were possessed? It’s not their fault!” Aasif protested.

  “Isn’t it? Each of these people were offered something and they all said yes. That makes them an accessory at the very least.” Dale pulled his silver emergency blanket tight, it crackled as he walked. His clothes still felt damp as he moved.