“I’ll lift my tools, explain to you what they are, and bring them inside the circle. If you know what they are and you understand what their purpose is, your concentration won’t be affected later on.”
Eva bent and took the glass staff from the grass. She held it up toward the sun. Blinding flashes of light were refracted from the top.
“This, of course, is my magic staff. It represents fire. Fire stands for passion and will, change, cleansing, and sexuality. It belongs to the sun.”
She carefully set the staff on the table. Now she took up the double-edged knives. The sharpened blades gleamed in the sun. She held up the largest of the knives. “This is my athame. It is the tool of air. It cannot be used to hurt living creatures, but it is a sharpened weapon. You direct and move energy with it. When I cut herbs, I use this old knife with a bone handle, which is also very sharp. Never my athame.”
Eva turned around and floated over to the table. When she came back, she took out an object wrapped in a shiny yellow silk fabric. The cloth package held the beautiful glass goblet that Irene had seen on the shelf in the kitchen.
“My goblet. Symbol of the water’s power and of the cardinal direction west. That’s why I’ve chosen to be by the western wall of the house. The goblet is going to help us see.”
With her other hand, she raised the small three-legged iron kettle into the air.
“The kettle is the tool of the spirit and doesn’t represent any element. It will take us to eternity and give us the presence of God. It will deepen our trance.”
Irene’s former feeling that the cantor was more than a bit weird returned; but at the same time, she had to admit that she was fascinated. Eva really believed that she could work magic.
Eva held up a juice-box of black currant juice, a small plate of Marie biscuits, and the glass paperweight with the pentagram that Irene had seen on her prior visit.
“The pentagram is the tool of the earth, the symbol of all earthly life. It is very strong. That’s why the Satanists are so willing to use it.”
She walked over to her altar and motioned for Irene to follow. Irene was uneasy, but she decided to pursue this to the bitter end. The possibility existed that Eva knew something about Sten Schyttelius, something that she was planning to reveal during her hocus-pocus. What one wouldn’t do to learn the truth. . Irene grimaced and then stepped resolutely into the ring.
Eva looked at her and started humming a wordless melody. It was a beautiful melody, and Irene again felt at peace. Sometimes Eva rang the silver bell she had around her neck. The soft sound was more of a sensation, but its presence added to the elevated feeling that was growing inside Irene. Humming, Eva walked up to the table and raised the glass staff. She slowly began to walk clockwise inside the circle of pebbles, holding the point of the staff down toward the stones. When she had completed one circuit, she stopped and raised the staff. A sharp beam of light shot out of its point and caught Irene in the eyes. She closed them involuntarily and sank to the ground.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Eva had traded the glass staff for the largest of the double-edged knives, the one she had called the athame. Eva stood with her arms outstretched, her face turned toward the house. She made a quarter turn and stood in the same position facing the woods. After another turn to the west, Irene understood that she was greeting the cardinal directions. Her soft humming could be heard the whole time, and sometimes Irene could make out single words. Suddenly, Eva stopped and turned her face toward the sun. Loud and clear, she said, “Mother Earth. Through the four elements and their four cardinal directions which exist within us and raise our spirit, I invoke you. Blessed be you and welcome.”
It became completely still. The light spring breeze died away. The heat increased, and it felt pleasant against Irene’s half-closed eyelids.
Eva pulled the plastic stopper out of the juice box and poured the dark-red drink into the glass goblet. She took a photo from the bottom of the kettle and placed it on the table. She turned toward Irene and whispered, humming, “Now we’re going to become immersed in a trance. A picture of Sten is on the table, one I cut out of a newspaper. We’re going to focus on Sten and ask the Goddess to help us. Hopefully, we’ll find out his deepest secret.”
She turned toward the altar again, placed the newspaper clipping in the middle of the table, and placed the goblet with its shimmering ruby drink on top. With her hands raised, she sang a short invocation, before she gripped the athame with both her hands and pressed the blade against her forehead. With eyes closed, she stood still and let her consciousness sink inward.
Irene had never before experienced going into Mukuso so quickly. A pleasant warmth and peace spread through her body and she felt as light as a feather. Wonderful soap bubbles in shimmering colors floated through her thoughts, and she was pulled toward The Light. When she was almost there, she tried to focus on Sten Schyttelius.
The change came gradually; at first she didn’t notice anything. After a while, she realized that she was on her way away from The Light. She became aware that she was freezing and tried to pull her jacket tighter around her. But it wasn’t possible, since she was so deep in the trance. Her limbs were heavy, and she couldn’t will them to move. A dark mist began to conceal The Light. She heard a voice that said, “Keikoku! Mate!” terms from Japanese combat sports, warning her to stop. She felt endangered. She had to break out of her trance. Something was going terribly wrong.
With an enormous effort of will, she came out of the trance and started working her way up toward consciousness. She finally managed to open her eyes and focused on Eva at the altar.
Everything happened very fast. Afterward, she wasn’t sure what she had really seen. Maybe she had still been in the trance.
The sun had gone behind the clouds and the wind had picked up considerably. Eva was staring into the goblet, her eyes wide in terror. Only a moaning sound came from her. As Irene gazed at her, Eva was lifted about a few inches above the ground and then hurled backward in the direction of the house. Her head hit the stone base of the house with a dull thud and she lay there, unmoving.
Irene was wide awake at once and on her feet before she was even aware of it. She rushed over to Eva and felt her pulse. It was strong and regular, and her breathing seemed normal. Relieved, Irene observed Eva’s eyelids twitch. When she opened them a moment later, her gaze was disoriented.
“What. . what happened?” she asked.
Before Irene had time to answer, Eva screamed, “It was Satan himself!”
Irene put her hand on Eva’s forehead and told her to lie still and calm down. Perhaps Eva had suffered a concussion. She carefully felt the back of Eva’s head. A large bump was starting to swell. Eva tried to get up, but Irene had to help her because she began to shake violently. Irene supported her up the stairs and into the small living room behind the kitchen. Eva lay down on the comfortable-looking sofa.
Irene gazed around the room. It looked ordinary, filled with a mixture of old and new furniture. Nothing showed that a witch lived here, although the tarot cards on the coffee table and the crystals on the windowsill might cause some suspicion.
“I’ll bring the things inside. It looks like it could start raining at any moment,” said Irene.
Eva nodded and closed her eyes as if she were very tired.
When Irene came in with the box, Eva was sitting up on the sofa. She looked out through the window, where the first drops of rain had started slapping against the pane. She asked, “What happened? I remember that I saw a face in the goblet and I became terribly afraid but. . then everything went black. But I remember the feeling of strong evil.”