The witching hour

if I had never tainted this matter with my own crime, or my confession.

What I must do now is go to this unfortunate Charlotte-no matter how long the journey-and speak to her from my heart and tell her all that I have seen and all that I know.

This can be no simple exposition; no plea to sanity; no sentimental entreaty as I made in my youth to Deborah. There must be meat to these arguments, there must be talk between me and this woman, so that she will allow me to examine with her this thing brought out of invisibility and out of chaos to do more harm than any daimon or spirit of which I have ever heard tell.

For that is the essence of it, Stefan, the thing is horrific, and each and every witch that seeks to command it shall in the end lose control of it, I have no doubt. But what is the career of the thing itself?

To wit, it struck down Deborah’s husband on account of what it knew of the man. Why did it not tell the witch herself? And what was meant by Deborah’s statements that this being was learning, statements which have been made to me twice-the first time years ago in Amsterdam, the second time only lately before these tragic events.

What I mean to do is consider the nature of the thing, that it meant to spare Deborah pain in striking down her husband for her, without telling her the why of it, though it had to confess when it was asked. Or that it sought to leap ahead and do for her what she would have had done, to show itself a good and clever spirit.

Whatever the answer, this is a most unusual and interesting spirit, indeed. And consider its strength, Stefan, for I have exaggerated nothing of what befell the populace at Montcleve. You will soon hear of this, for it was too horrifying and remarkable for the story not to spread far and wide.

Now, during these long hours of soreness and torment, as I have lain here, I have considered carefully in memory all I have ever read of the old lore on spirits and daimons and the like.

I have considered the writings of wizards, through their warnings, and through anecdotes and the teachings of the Church Fathers, for no matter what fools they be in some matters, the Church Fathers do know a thing or two of spirits, in which they are in agreement with the ancients, and that agreement is a significant point.

Because if the Romans, the Greeks, the Hebrew scholars, and the Christians all describe the same entities, and issue the same warnings and formulae for controlling them, then surely that is something not to be dismissed.

And no nation or tribe to my knowledge has not acknowledged that there are many invisible beings, and that they divide into good spirits and evil spirits, according to how they benefit man.

In the early days of the Christian Church, the Church Fathers believed that these daimons were, in fact, the old gods of the pagans. That is they believed in the existence of those gods and that they were creatures of lesser power, a belief which the Church surely does not hold now.

However, the witch judges do hold this belief, crudely and in ignorance, for when they accuse the witch of riding out at night, they are accusing her in foolish words of the old belief in the goddess Diana, which did infect pagan Europe before the coming of Christianity, and the goat devil whom the witch kisses is none other than the pagan god Pan.

But the witch judge does not know that this is what he is doing. Dogmatically he believes only in Satan, “the Devil,” and the devil’s demons. And the historian must point out to him, for all the good it will do, that the fabrications of his demonologies come from the pagan peasant lore.

But to return to the main consideration, all peoples have believed in spirits. And all peoples have told us something of spirits, and it is what they have told us that I must examine here. And if memory serves me now, I must aver that what we see through the legends, the books of magic, and the demonologies is a legion of entities which can be called up by name, and commanded by witches or sorcerers. Indeed, the Book of Solomon lists them as numerous, giving not merely names and properties of the beings, but in what manner they choose to appear.

And though we in the Talamasca have long held that most of this is pure fancy, we know that there are such entities, and we know that the books contain some worthwhile warnings as to the danger inherent in evoking these beings, for they may grant our wishes in ways that cause us to cry to heaven in desperation as the old tale of King Midas and the peasant story of the three wishes make plain.

Indeed, the wisdom of the wizard in any language is defined as knowing how to restrain and carefully use the power of these invisible creatures, so that it is not turned upon the wizard in some unforeseen way.

But no matter how much one reads of learning about the spirits, where does one hear of teaching the spirits to learn? Where does one hear of them changing? Growing strong with evocation, yes, but changing?

And twice Deborah spoke to me of that very thing, the education of her spirit, Lasher, which says that the thing can change.

Stefan, what I perceive is that this thing, called forth from invisibility and chaos, by the simpleton Suzanne, is a complete mystery at this stage of its existence as the servant of these witches, and that it has advanced itself, through the guidance of Deborah, from a lowly spirit of the air, a storm maker that is, to a horrid daimon capable of killing the witch’s enemies upon command. And I hold that there is even more to it than that, which Deborah had not time or strength to make known to me, but which I must make known to Charlotte, though not for the purpose of guiding her in her devotion to this thing, but in the hope of coming between her and the daimon and effecting the dissolution of it by some means.

For Stefan, when I consider the words of the being which Deborah quoted to me, I believe that the spirit has not only characteristics to be learned by the witch, but a character through which he learns; in sum, not only a nature to be understood, but a soul perhaps through which he understands.

Further, I am also willing to wager that this Charlotte Fontenay knows next to nothing of this daimon, that she never learnt the black arts from Deborah; that only in the eleventh hour did Deborah make known to Charlotte her secrets, and command Charlotte’s loyalty, and send her away with her blessing that Charlotte might survive her, and not see her suffer in the fire. My beloved daughter, she called her, which I remember well.

Stefan, I must be allowed to go to Charlotte. I must not shrink from it as I did years before from Deborah on Roemer Franz’s command. For had I argued with Deborah and studied with Deborah, perhaps I would have won ground with her, and this thing could have been sent away.

And finally, Stefan, consider my request for this mission on two further counts. One, I loved Deborah and I met defeat with her; and therefore I must go to her daughter, for this much is required of me on account of what passed between me and the woman before.

And two, that I have in my possession money enough to go to Saint-Domingue and can get more from our agent here, who will advance me plenty, and I may go even if you do not allow.

But please, do not make me break the rule of the order. Give me permission. Send me to Saint- Domingue.

For it so happens that I am going.

Yours Faithfully in the Talamasca,

Petyr van Abel

Marseille

The Talamasca

Amsterdam

Petyr van Abel

Marseille

Dear Petyr,

Your letters never fail to surprise us, but you have surpassed even all your past triumphs with these two lately from Marseille.

All here have read them, word for word, and the council has come together and these are our recommendations:

That you come home at once to Amsterdam.

We understand full well your reasons for wishing to journey to Saint-Domingue but we cannot allow such a