summon you, O Aingealag, most righteous and
benevolent spirit, to come hither with speed and grace and make appearance in the Triangle of Conjuration, that I may glean from thee all which I seek to know. I conjure thee in the sacred names of Adonai, Elohim, and Tetragrammaton. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I conjure thee.”
The smoke eddied from the censer, and now, instead of dispersing, it collected itself together quickly and began to radiate with bright white light.
Iver and Annabel, a couple of young lovers from Haddington who had decided to take advantage of the clear night and rain-freshened air to ride out into the woods and gaze at the stars, saw the bright light refl ecting off the trees and, consumed with curiosity, approached it.
The spirit took shape in the roiling smoke and
achieved a size nearly half the height of the surrounding trees.
It appeared to be composed almost entirely of pure white light, but it was a light that didn’t blind or strain the eyes. The white vapors compressed until they achieved a density that resembled chiseled ice, but ice that was malleable.
Its eyes were black and beaming. Its face, delicate and pleasing, was framed with straight white hair fl owing over its shoulders and above its head. Three pairs of large featherless wings branched out from its back and fl uttered lightly behind it. With the exception of the smoke which clouded its legs, it was naked, allowing Odara to see its small but symmetrical breasts. But it was not female; it was decidedly androgynous, as a puff of smoke clearing away from its upper legs revealed.
“Are you the spirit, Aingealag?” Odara asked.
62
Odara
“Yes. It is I, Aingealag. How may I serve you, O
Mistress?”
“My husband Fergus, who has often conjured you,
is away on retreat, and I fear for him. Can you tell me if he is well?”
“Have you not attempted to visit him in the astral?”
“I cannot. I am with child.”
“Aye. Yet I see that you are not yet three fortnights in the way. You should still be fi t to leave your body and visit your husband.”
“Do you speak the truth?”
“Aye. I am your most loyal servant. I can make naught of lies nor understand them.”
Odara was perplexed. If she was still able to leave her body and travel on the astral plane, then why had she had so much diffi culty in merely passing the walls of her home?
“Am I ill?” she asked more to herself than to
Aingealag.
“Nay,” the spirit answered. “But there is much to fear.”
“Fear? What am I to fear? I command you: Answer
me.”
“There is a stronger magic at work in these matters.
There is evil.”
“What evil do you speak of?”
“I know not, only the presence is certain.”
“Is Fergus in danger? Is he well?”
“I cannot see your husband. It is as a black veil that has been drawn about him.”
63
The Necromancer
“Can’t you tell me where he is?”
“Nay. The veil cannot be lifted.”
“What am I to do?”
Aingealag didn’t reply.
There was a long moment of silence, then the spirit addressed its summoner.
“Mistress—”
“I give you license to depart until next I summon you, and then you will come with haste and eagerness to tell me that which I desire to know and do that which I desire be done.”
“Aye, Mistress,” Aingealag said, then dispersed
amongst the smoke until only the smoke remained.
Annabel, having witnessed the spectacle of the
conjuration, fainted, collapsing into Iver’s arms.
*****
Fergus was in a small town in Weimar, Germany,
when that sense of foreboding he had experienced prior to his journey returned. This time, however, his intuition was more focused. A dull pain appeared at the center of his brow, forcing him to bring Dreng to a halt. A faint echo of voices rang in his head, but he couldn’t comprehend them. There were no visions, but the sense of danger he felt was defi nite. He knew he wasn’t in danger...It was Odara and his unborn
benevolent spirit, to come hither with speed and grace and make appearance in the Triangle of Conjuration, that I may glean from thee all which I seek to know. I conjure thee in the sacred names of Adonai, Elohim, and Tetragrammaton. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I conjure thee.”
The smoke eddied from the censer, and now, instead of dispersing, it collected itself together quickly and began to radiate with bright white light.
Iver and Annabel, a couple of young lovers from Haddington who had decided to take advantage of the clear night and rain-freshened air to ride out into the woods and gaze at the stars, saw the bright light refl ecting off the trees and, consumed with curiosity, approached it.
The spirit took shape in the roiling smoke and
achieved a size nearly half the height of the surrounding trees.
It appeared to be composed almost entirely of pure white light, but it was a light that didn’t blind or strain the eyes. The white vapors compressed until they achieved a density that resembled chiseled ice, but ice that was malleable.
Its eyes were black and beaming. Its face, delicate and pleasing, was framed with straight white hair fl owing over its shoulders and above its head. Three pairs of large featherless wings branched out from its back and fl uttered lightly behind it. With the exception of the smoke which clouded its legs, it was naked, allowing Odara to see its small but symmetrical breasts. But it was not female; it was decidedly androgynous, as a puff of smoke clearing away from its upper legs revealed.
“Are you the spirit, Aingealag?” Odara asked.
62
Odara
“Yes. It is I, Aingealag. How may I serve you, O
Mistress?”
“My husband Fergus, who has often conjured you,
is away on retreat, and I fear for him. Can you tell me if he is well?”
“Have you not attempted to visit him in the astral?”
“I cannot. I am with child.”
“Aye. Yet I see that you are not yet three fortnights in the way. You should still be fi t to leave your body and visit your husband.”
“Do you speak the truth?”
“Aye. I am your most loyal servant. I can make naught of lies nor understand them.”
Odara was perplexed. If she was still able to leave her body and travel on the astral plane, then why had she had so much diffi culty in merely passing the walls of her home?
“Am I ill?” she asked more to herself than to
Aingealag.
“Nay,” the spirit answered. “But there is much to fear.”
“Fear? What am I to fear? I command you: Answer
me.”
“There is a stronger magic at work in these matters.
There is evil.”
“What evil do you speak of?”
“I know not, only the presence is certain.”
“Is Fergus in danger? Is he well?”
“I cannot see your husband. It is as a black veil that has been drawn about him.”
63
The Necromancer
“Can’t you tell me where he is?”
“Nay. The veil cannot be lifted.”
“What am I to do?”
Aingealag didn’t reply.
There was a long moment of silence, then the spirit addressed its summoner.
“Mistress—”
“I give you license to depart until next I summon you, and then you will come with haste and eagerness to tell me that which I desire to know and do that which I desire be done.”
“Aye, Mistress,” Aingealag said, then dispersed
amongst the smoke until only the smoke remained.
Annabel, having witnessed the spectacle of the
conjuration, fainted, collapsing into Iver’s arms.
*****
Fergus was in a small town in Weimar, Germany,
when that sense of foreboding he had experienced prior to his journey returned. This time, however, his intuition was more focused. A dull pain appeared at the center of his brow, forcing him to bring Dreng to a halt. A faint echo of voices rang in his head, but he couldn’t comprehend them. There were no visions, but the sense of danger he felt was defi nite. He knew he wasn’t in danger...It was Odara and his unborn
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