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“It seemed to be going well. You see, a Qliphoth can only possess an imperfect and impure body, one that’s sinned. Of course, that describes all humans except maybe for the saints. When I eat a possessed person’s sins, their body returns to a pure and holy state. With nowhere left to hide, the Qliphoth is ejected like someone spitting out a watermelon seed.”
“Where did it go wrong?”
“I’d laid out the bread and salt and I was saying the prayers. Not in Latin, but in an older language supposedly spoken by the Qliphoth and possibly the Angra Om Ya.”
Traven opens his mouth and what comes out is all humming, gurgling, and spluttering, like he’s drowning and speaking Hellion at the same time.
“I felt the Qliphoth being drawn out as I swallowed Hunter’s sins. It knew what was happening and fought back hard. No doubt you’ve seen the wreckage. Toward the end of the ritual, the Qliphoth tried to drag the boy’s body into the air. I shoved bread and salt into Hunter’s mouth, hoping it would draw out the creature. I prayed and ate the bread. That should have worked. It’s always worked before, but something went wrong. Imagine that I was erecting a castle to push the Qliphoth out and keep it out. Something went wrong and it burst through the walls and back into Hunter’s body. That’s the last thing I remember before Julia helping me to my feet. By then, Hunter was gone out the window.”
“Did you recognize the demon?” I ask.
“No. It’s none I’ve ever encountered before. It wasn’t angry or frightened until it realized that I knew how to force it out. That’s unusual for Qliphoth. They’re incomplete creatures and they know it, so it makes them fearful and vicious. This one was patient and thoughtful.”
Traven walks to the windows and opens them to let the smoke out. I follow him so I can flick my ashes outside over the university.
I say, “I think we’re going to need more information before we try the exorcism again. We’re missing something important.”
“I’ve been going through my books trying to identify the specific creature, but I haven’t had any luck.”
“Perhaps I can help you with your research,” says Vidocq. “I have my own library, if you would like to see it.”
“Thank you. I would.”
“You two can play librarians. I’m going to make some calls and break some people’s toys until one of them starts giving us answers.”
“Cool,” Candy says.
“Father, I know you must use the university library. Have you ever heard anyone talk about a drug called Akira?”
“Of course. It’s popular among some of the students. Artists. New Agers. Those sort of thing.”
“Do you know anything about the drug itself?”
“Not really. All I remember is that it seemed like it was harder to get than other drugs. That there were only a few people who sold it.”
“Thanks.”
I shake Traven’s hand and I let Vidocq and Candy go out ahead of me. I start out, stop, and turn. It’s an old trick.
“One more thing, Father. Julia never told us why you are excommunicated.”
He’s thinking. Not sure he wants to answer.
“I’ll tell you if you promise to talk with me about Hell sometime,” he says.
“Deal.”
Traven goes back to his desk and picks up the book he’d hidden earlier.
“I don’t like other people to see this particular book. It seems wrong for it to be a mere curiosity.”
“I saw you cover it up.”
The spray of red on the front of the book nearly covers an ancient sigil.
“I don’t recognize the symbol.”
“It’s the sign of one of the Angra Om Ya cults,” says Vidocq, looking over my shoulder.
