Read Online Blackbone by George Simpson, Neal Burger - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: George Simpson, Neal Burger
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mythical being with long fingernails and pointy ears. This is a monster in every sense of the word. Of course, Korbazrah’s mum- bojumbo must have been useless. No, incantations and vomiting into a silver container. Capturing it must have been a very difficult, dangerous job.”
Yazir cleared his throat. “There is an expulsion ritual for djinn—”
“Invoking certain passages from the Koran? This djinn has been sealed away in the flask for twenty-five hundred years—that’s longer than recorded Arab history. It predates the Koran. The ritual would have effect. If there is a spell for dealing with the djinn, it might be in the tablets, but there isn’t enough time to start a manhunt for Moulin—”
“I think, my dear, you are getting ahead of yourself. How did Korbazrah capture the djinn?”
Loring stared at him; for the first time a flicker of doubt crossed her face. “I’m afraid those accounts are inconsistent. But I think it went something like this.... He managed to find the demon a host body to live in—an assistant over whom he had complete power. He was then able to coax the demon into doing his bidding. He struck a bargain with it. That’s not hard to do. Traditionally, the forces of evil love a good bargain. Throughout the folklore, the djinn are described as mischievous creatures who thrive on beguiling humans. Korbazrah probably thought he had the upper hand and, for a while, perhaps he did.
“When Nebuchadnezzar laid siege to Ur-Tawaq, Korbazrah sold the king his conjuring services. I found enough evidence to suggest he was being paid by Nebuchadnezzar. In return for his money he got the demon to do what it did best, unleash a plague of psychological terror, reducing the citizens to a state of panic. Ultimately demoralized, many of them killed by strange inexplicable incidents, they surrendered to the Babylonians. Nebuchadnezzar had them all slaughtered.
“Korbazrah was then ordered to subdue his demon, which he did, believing he was about to come into his life’s great reward. He fashioned a silver flask in the shape of a pentagon—the flask that I found. He lured the demon into it—how, I don’t know—then slammed on the stopper and sealed it. After that, he probably hid it in his chamber, figuring he might need it again. Then he went to the king. And the king... the king had him executed. The body was burned, the work chamber sealed, and the location heavily salted to keep the demon from rising again.”
“Salt,” mumbled Yazir. “Salt and silver...”
“Yes,” echoed Loring, relieved that Yazir’s resistance was crumbling. “Salt and silver—two of the ancient deterrents against demons. When we excavated our dig, we found the ground heavily laced with salt. The water that burst from the rock was salty. That far inland, an underground spring should have produced fresh water—pure and sweet, not salty. And the flask, made of silver—and the shape of it—a pentagon...”
“Yes...”
“According to the folklore, these are all things used to combat demons.”
“Yes, they are. According to... folklore.”
Loring sat down. “You don’t believe me.”
Yazir relit his pipe. “Let’s say that I do not find it unusual that a group of illiterate Iraqis assigned to an archaeological expedition should permit themselves to be ruled by the ancient superstitions. I do however find it odd that an intelligent, well-educated American woman should become so stirred by these things. So influenced.”
“You think that’s what it is? Influence, mass hysteria?”
“Couldn’t it have been? After all, the events at the dig prompted your search for all this other information, and when one has crossed the line from scientific objectivity into the realm of willing to believe ... one can prove anything.”
Loring checked her rising anger and tried to display the objectivity Yazir was hoping for. “I saw the rock burst open and the water rush out. It was salty.”
“Yes, but that
Yazir cleared his throat. “There is an expulsion ritual for djinn—”
“Invoking certain passages from the Koran? This djinn has been sealed away in the flask for twenty-five hundred years—that’s longer than recorded Arab history. It predates the Koran. The ritual would have effect. If there is a spell for dealing with the djinn, it might be in the tablets, but there isn’t enough time to start a manhunt for Moulin—”
“I think, my dear, you are getting ahead of yourself. How did Korbazrah capture the djinn?”
Loring stared at him; for the first time a flicker of doubt crossed her face. “I’m afraid those accounts are inconsistent. But I think it went something like this.... He managed to find the demon a host body to live in—an assistant over whom he had complete power. He was then able to coax the demon into doing his bidding. He struck a bargain with it. That’s not hard to do. Traditionally, the forces of evil love a good bargain. Throughout the folklore, the djinn are described as mischievous creatures who thrive on beguiling humans. Korbazrah probably thought he had the upper hand and, for a while, perhaps he did.
“When Nebuchadnezzar laid siege to Ur-Tawaq, Korbazrah sold the king his conjuring services. I found enough evidence to suggest he was being paid by Nebuchadnezzar. In return for his money he got the demon to do what it did best, unleash a plague of psychological terror, reducing the citizens to a state of panic. Ultimately demoralized, many of them killed by strange inexplicable incidents, they surrendered to the Babylonians. Nebuchadnezzar had them all slaughtered.
“Korbazrah was then ordered to subdue his demon, which he did, believing he was about to come into his life’s great reward. He fashioned a silver flask in the shape of a pentagon—the flask that I found. He lured the demon into it—how, I don’t know—then slammed on the stopper and sealed it. After that, he probably hid it in his chamber, figuring he might need it again. Then he went to the king. And the king... the king had him executed. The body was burned, the work chamber sealed, and the location heavily salted to keep the demon from rising again.”
“Salt,” mumbled Yazir. “Salt and silver...”
“Yes,” echoed Loring, relieved that Yazir’s resistance was crumbling. “Salt and silver—two of the ancient deterrents against demons. When we excavated our dig, we found the ground heavily laced with salt. The water that burst from the rock was salty. That far inland, an underground spring should have produced fresh water—pure and sweet, not salty. And the flask, made of silver—and the shape of it—a pentagon...”
“Yes...”
“According to the folklore, these are all things used to combat demons.”
“Yes, they are. According to... folklore.”
Loring sat down. “You don’t believe me.”
Yazir relit his pipe. “Let’s say that I do not find it unusual that a group of illiterate Iraqis assigned to an archaeological expedition should permit themselves to be ruled by the ancient superstitions. I do however find it odd that an intelligent, well-educated American woman should become so stirred by these things. So influenced.”
“You think that’s what it is? Influence, mass hysteria?”
“Couldn’t it have been? After all, the events at the dig prompted your search for all this other information, and when one has crossed the line from scientific objectivity into the realm of willing to believe ... one can prove anything.”
Loring checked her rising anger and tried to display the objectivity Yazir was hoping for. “I saw the rock burst open and the water rush out. It was salty.”
“Yes, but that
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