The Parisian Codex

40 - First ritual

Romane had left me in total darkness. Every now and then, a drop of water would fall from the mine's ceiling. From the end of the gallery came muffled sniffles. Romane was sobbing among the guards' bones.

Footsteps echoed in the tunnel, but it was too dark for me to see who was coming.

A detail that doesn't bother demons.

"Where's Romane?" asked Zagan.

"I didn't slit her throat," I said. "But I think I made her cry. She's gone back to hide in the pit."

"I really can't leave you alone for two minutes!" he grumbled.

"You should never have left her alone with me," I said.

"Oh, enough about your dark past! If I'd known you'd get so lame, I'd have turned you into a frog. Can you walk?"

"I suppose so. But I can't see."

Zagan flicked on a lighter. The demon was pale and disheveled. The right sleeve of his sweater had been cut away, revealing a bloody bandage. His left thigh had been bandaged over his trouser and was stained with blood.

"They did a number on you, too," I said.

"It's their damn syringes," he growled. "I'm barely able to heal my worst wounds, and I'm sore all over. This stuff is dangerous."

"You're going to use it against other demons," I said.

"Of course I will. But first, I want to get the codex to safety."

I followed him towards the pit where the bones of the Swiss Guards awaited us. The demon was limping, and I was dragging my feet.

At the end of the tunnel, in front of the retaining wall, there was no trace of our passage. Romane had indeed taken our bags into the small cavern.

Zagan made sure to warn the girl before preceding me into the gully. Crawling without using one's arms is not only slow and difficult, but in my condition it was also painful.

In front of me, Zagan let out an admiring whistle. "Good job! Didn't you sleep?"

"Hardly at all," Romane muttered. "I needed something to do."

I stumbled into the pit and barely recognized the place. Romane had lit candles set in hollows in the rock. Bones were neatly arranged along the wall. Not a single one was lying on the ground. She had settle opposite the entrance, piling up the bags beside her. She sat between the black lamb and the black puppy, petting the black rooster on her lap. It was like being in the hold of Noah's Ark. The lamb bleated softly, and Romane stroked its neck.

The girl had also kept the rifle close at hand, and she refused to look at me.

Good.

But it hurt.

"Now we can get down to business," said Zagan. "Who's got the lead powder?"

"In the pocket of my bag," I said.

I guided the demon to the pocket in question. It contained a small burlap sack filled with lead powder.

Zagan produced an obsidian dagger. The polished stone gleamed in the candlelight. "Tonight, we start with the rooster."

"Can we put the animals to sleep before that?" asked Romane. "They'll get scared, and..."

Zagan jammed the dagger into the back of his belt and knelt down beside Romane. He put one hand on the lamb's head and the other on the puppy's. The puppy yelped and wagged its tail before dropping off to sleep. The lamb flopped into Romane's lap.

"What about the rooster?"

"Why not?" said Zagan.

The bird joined its companions in Morpheus' kingdom.

Romane set the animals against each other before opening her backpack. She took out the necromancy grimoire and opened it.

A little too pale but looking determined, she flipped through the pages. "Okay. First, the circle."

Zagan explained the circle's dimensions and handed her the lead pouch. In return, she gave him the grimoire and set to work. She drew a first circle, counter-clockwise. Outside the circle, she marked the directions. Between the directions, she placed boar tusks and pieces of deer antler. Once this first step had been completed, she sat up and let out a long sigh.

Zagan checked the grimoire and nodded. "Good. Now, the rooster."

Romane stiffened but complied. In the middle of the circle, she lined up a stone bowl, Zagan's dagger and the sleeping black rooster. The demon joined in, showing her the best way to cut the fowl's neck to fill the bowl with blood. Watching him patiently explain each gesture reminded me of what the books said about him: "makes fools wise."

Zagan loved teaching.

The instructor left his pupil. He stepped out of the circle, and Romane picked up the dagger. She decapitated the chicken with one blow, and blood spurted into the bowl.

She used the blood to trace over the outline of the circle and its surrounding symbols. Then she turned to Zagan. Her face was wet with tears.

"The spells," said the demon. "On the walls."

She nodded and dipped her fingers in blood.

Zagan joined her in front of the white stone wall, holding the grimoire for her to read. They walked around the room, Romane bending over the stacked bones, tracing the bloody signs with her fingers.

Zagan relieved Romane of the bowl and handed her the grimoire. "First, the concealment spell."

She stepped into the circle, knelt in front of the grimoire and began to read. I'd copied out the Greek formula phonetically, with the translation line by line. She uttered the last word, magic swept through the circle, and disappeared.

"Uh..." said the girl's voice, "it didn't work."

"It did!" I said. "From the outside, you're invisible."

"Am I?"

"Let's not waste time," snapped Zagan. "Go on to the protection spell."

The sound of vellum told me that Romane was turning the pages of the grimoire. Then she intoned the second spell. This time, the signs traced in blood on the cave wall burst into flames.

"Oh," said Romane. "It worked."

I couldn't hold back a smile.

"Yes," confirmed Zagan. "Now we're protected until the next sunset. We can get down to business."

Romane's voice rose, trembling. "Teutatis, judge of the dead, hear me. Cernunnos, father of all, hear me."

We had decided to deviate from the grimoire's instructions for this crucial step. The author of the ritual called upon Hecate and Thanatos. Romane felt that the Greek gods were too far removed from the spirit of the place and had decided to call on the ancient deities of the land. According to Zagan, it was all the same. Not knowing much about ancient paganism, I left them to their own devices.

If we could wake up the dead, it'd be here, among their bones.

"Teutatis, I'm calling you!" said Romane in a more confident voice. "Wake the dead who sleep here! Cernunnos, I'm calling you! Bind the dead who lie here!"

Zagan walked around the circle, bowl in hand. On each boar tusk and deer antler, the demon poured a few drops of blood. Romane continued her incantations for several more minutes. I thought I felt a tremor, as if the bones around us vibrated in unison. But the sensation was slight and fleeting.

Romane fell silent, and nothing more happened.

"Good," Zagan said. "That's it for tonight."

"It didn't work," she breathed in a small voice.

"It did," said Zagan. "They heard you. But these things take time, and that's why the ritual lasts three nights. Eat something. Then you can rest."

And tomorrow, you'll slit a puppy's throat, I thought.

Poor Romane. If only I could have taken her place.