would just close by themselves. And then the dreams would come. Dreams of black figures wreathed in fire, talking to him, cajoling and suggesting. It was becoming too much.
Hikari has spent the last few years researching extensively for a solution to the problem. What he’d found was a precious leather bound copy of the Lesser Key of Solomon, a seventeenth century text that contained detailed information on rituals for summoning, controlling and banishing the various demons of hell.
Together, Sam and Hikari had gone through it, page by page, trying various solutions. Sam had enjoyed the time they spent together, especially being able to work through a book that he was able to touch. The Lesser Key of Solomon was neither holy nor blessed. It didn’t burn him like the Bible.
Today was just another variation of the other rituals. Sam didn’t hold out much hope but he was desperate enough to try anything.
“I’m not sure I understand,” said Aimi, her pretty face creased with a frown. She was almost fifteen now and had matured into a stunningly beautiful teenager. Most days, Sam found it hard to concentrate if she was around. “The pentagram is meant to contain a demon; how is it meant to stop the dreams from getting to him?”
“If Solomon is to be believed, then the symbol should stop anything from Hell getting in or out. In theory, that should include dreams.” Hikari shrugged. “In theory.”
Sam could see that his master, like him, still had doubts. Of course, this had never been tried before. Over the centuries, there had been accounts of how magicians and demon worshippers had summoned high-ranking demons into these pentagrams, but there was nothing about protecting a demon from projected thoughts. The need, Sam guessed, had never arisen — until now …
During their investigation, Hikari and Sam had unearthed many fascinating insights about demons. Hikari was an expert on the subject and yet his master was still surprised by what they had found in Solomon’s text. According to this and other books on demonology, a circle of holy water sprinkled around someone’s body would protect them from Demons. They’d tried this with disastrous results, as the close proximity of the holy water made Sam’s body break out in hives. The idea was quickly abandoned.
They’d also tried variations of pentagrams used to summon demons. Most of these involved using candles and braziers filled with burning sulphur, blood and various other substances. All it had succeeded in doing was making Sam feel nauseous, and the smell in the confined space of the small storage room made sleep all but impossible.
Hikari picked up his chalk again. With it he traced a circle linking the five points of the pentagram, converting the symbol into a pentacle. Amongst Christians, the symbol had once been a source of good. The five points represented the five wounds of Christ and also the five senses. By changing it into a pentacle, Hikari had unified its powers for good, protection and wholeness.
Hikari grunted and straightened up. “Let’s hope we’ve got it the right way round this time.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d tried this. Through trial and error, they’d discovered that it was something to do with the orientation of the pentacle. Two points projecting upwards were the sign of evil while the topmost pointing towards Heaven meant the opposite. The only problem was, they didn’t know which direction Heaven was.
They’d changed the orientation over the course of four nights. Not once had it worked. Sam’s nightmares returned with renewed power every single night. Tonight was their last chance. If this didn’t work, they’d have to go back to the drawing board and try something completely different.
Hikari checked the pentacle one last time, ensuring that there were no gaps in the chalk. One tiny gap would be all that it took to render the symbol useless. Eventually, he smiled at Sam. “Sweet dreams, my boy.”
Aimi hesitated for a moment as Hikari left the small storage room, leaving the two of them alone. “Looks like you’re trapped in there,” she grinned at him.
They knew from past trials that Sam was effectively a prisoner inside the pentacle. Sam moved his legs experimentally. As they reached the chalk outline of the pentagram, it was as if they encountered a solid barrier. He pressed harder and felt only the slightest give in the wall. He knew that he could probably shove even more and eventually force himself through, but that would ruin the chalk outline and with it, his chance for a dreamless sleep.
He grinned back at her. “It’s not often that you have me at a disadvantage, is it? I wouldn’t get used to it.”
Aimi laughed. “All talk, big man. We’ll see how you go at training this afternoon, sunshine.” She blew him a kiss and closed the door softly on her way out.
Sam grunted and wiggled around in the confined space. Curled up, he let sleep take him, praying that it would be dream free.
It was late afternoon when Sam finally emerged from the room, Hikari apparently having broken the pentacle shorty before he awoke. He found Aimi and Hikari in the kitchen preparing an early supper.
“Well?” said Aimi, turning towards him with her hands on her hips.
“It was … good,” he said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
“You mean no dreams?” Aimi gazed at him happily.
He nodded. “No dreams.”
She threw herself at him and gave him a tight squeeze. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you,”she said, kissing his cheek.
Hikari walked past, carrying a bowl of soup. He patted Sam on the back. “Well done, my boy.”
Aimi handed him a bowl of soup. “Does that mean you aren’t going to be so grumpy?” she teased.
He gave her a crooked smile. “It depends on how nice you are to me.”
Aimi laughed and threw a napkin at him.
They seated themselves at the table and Sam attacked his soup with gusto. He was ravenous. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do for his appetite. He hadn’t felt this rested, well — ever. It was sheer bliss to sleep for a few hours with nothing going on in his head. He felt renewed, invigorated, and was looking forward to getting on with his training.
He got through two bowls of soup and a platter of fried fish with rice while Aimi and Hikari were still on their first bowl of soup. When he’d finished, he looked up at Hikari expectantly.
“What’s my regime today, Sensei?”
Hikari set down his bowl. “First the gym. I want an hour’s strenuous workout from you. Mixed weights. Heavy and light. Then some sword work. Aimi will join us today. After that, both of you can go for a run.”
Sam nodded, feeling almost happy. He stood up. “Ready when you are.”
“Begin.”
Aimi thrust with the spear, extending her body out and shifting her grip so it was near the end of the shaft. The lightning strike came perilously close to lancing him. He parried hurriedly, bringing both training swords down, forcing the pointed tip to the ground.
Normally, Aimi wouldn’t take him off guard like this but his mind had been elsewhere. At the time, he was busy staring off into the evening shadows. Something was tickling the back of his mind; he suspected a demon was nearby, watching and waiting as usual.
He shook off the feeling and concentrated on the task at hand. Aimi deserved his attention and respect. Though not training as intensively as Sam, she had still spent many hours with Hikari and himself. As a result, she was a very accomplished warrior, with a speed and grace not unlike Sam’s own.
He enjoyed their training sessions together. She challenged him and if he was being truthful, he just liked watching her move. Her body was so beautiful and lithe that on a few occasions, she’d thumped him in the head simply because he was not even watching her weapon. Hikari had chastised him for that.
He still had her spear pinned beneath his own weapons and was curious to see what she would do next, content to wait. She didn’t disappoint him as usual. Always unorthodox, Aimi released her grasp on the spear and surged along the shaft. The kick, if it had connected, would’ve put a serious dent in his skull. At the last second, he moved his head fractionally, and the kick passed harmlessly to one side. He swept both swords up and battered her backside with the flats of the blades. Already off-balance with her missed kick, the blows threw her body through the air. She rolled in mid-air and landed neatly on her feet with feline grace.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he said, grinning wildly.
