Familiar Spirit

Oddly, it felt warm, almost hot, to my touch. And as I looked at it I felt the most powerful sensation. It was a blast of pure evil, as if the thing had been a poisonous snake, uncoiling in my hand. I was so frightened I nearly dropped it. But Jade must have anticipated such a response because his hands had closed around it before it could fall.

He set it down on a small table. I looked at it out of the corner of my eye, not liking to look at it but not feeling safe leaving it unwatched, either. I was too shaken to speak. Yolanda, too, was staring at it. She was very pale, although with fear or simply excitement I could not tell. Jade was watching both of us with his usual calm amusement.

I felt he was challenging me. Frightened but determined to prove my courage, I rose and walked to the table. I heard Yolanda gasp. I reached out and touched the figure for only a moment. It was enough. I knew I had not imagined it—the thing was alive. No, that’s not true. The stone was merely stone; the woman merely a carved representation. But there was life within it, like electricity glowing in a glass bulb, like lightning caught in a jar. Some spirit, some living spirit, had been put into the figure. It did not belong there; it was trapped there, unnaturally preserved within the solid stone.

I looked at Jade and saw him watching me.

“I must leave now,” I said. I was terrified, so frightened that I felt ill. The life in that stone was so wrong, so unnatural, that I could not stay in the same room with it. I did not know if it was evil or dangerous, but it horrified me.

When we were away, I questioned Yolanda about the little figure. But she was evasive, claiming to know nothing.

“You had seen it before,” I said. “It didn’t surprise you.”

She admitted that Jade had shown it to her, had her hold it, some time past. But I suspected that she knew more and I was determined to have it out of her. So all the way home I persisted in talking about it—even though I would rather have forgotten it—speculating on what the thing in the stone was. At last I hit upon something.

“It wants to get out,” I said. “I could feel that. It is trapped in the stone and wants out. Do you suppose Jade can keep it trapped?”

“Oh, yes! He—” She stopped short but my imagination finished the sentence for her. “He put it there.” Was that right? As casually as if I knew what I was talking about, I said, “Of course, he will call it out again, with our help.”

She turned her head to look at me, making me fear for our safety as she was driving a poorly paved road. “What has he been telling you?” she demanded.

I smiled, smug as a cat. “What hasn’t he told you?”

A silly trick, but it made her uneasy. “Why should he tell you anything?” she wondered aloud.

“I know how powerful Jade is,” I said. “But I wonder if he’s powerful enough. The spirit in that stone—I could sense the strength of it. It must be awfully powerful. Once we set it free, will Jade be able to control it?”

Yolanda laughed, and I knew I had said something wrong, revealed my ignorance.

“You don’t know anything,” she said, pleased. “You’re only fishing.” After that, I couldn’t get anything out of her.

I have been trying to puzzle it out with the clues I have. Jade’s name—that must be a clue, since the figure is made of jade. Or is that just one of Jade’s jokes? I wish I knew more. I would be stronger if I knew what was to happen.

March 30

Jade has sent a small black dog to watch me.

It isn’t a dog.

Its eyes are not a dog’s eyes. When it looks at me, I see a flicker of that yellow-brown gleam and a suggestion of the heat that glows out of Jade’s eyes, and I know that it is not a dog but Jade who is looking at me.

Superficially, it is a small, shaggy mongrel, one ear torn from a fight, friendly and hungry. The children beg to keep it and are enamored of it. It doesn’t matter what I do—it will stay.

According to Crowley, “You can always use the body inhabited by an elemental, such as an eagle, hare, wolf or any convenient animal, by making a very simple compact.”

April 1

I wait like a dumb animal, knowing that Jade will not let me escape. I am afraid he means to kill me, not merely to use me sexually as I had thought. I am to be the victim, the lure, the bait.

I reread Crowley and think of Walter. I pray to Walter, not to God. I pray that Walter will come before it is too late, come and take me away from here. I am frightened, and my fear makes my will waver. But I must do it. I must call Walter to me.

The dog keeps getting into the house, no matter what I do. I have forbidden the children to let it in, but time and again I turn to find it behind me, watching. I put it outside again, and it does not protest or fight. It only looks at me, and we know each other.

April 2