Blackwood Farm - Anne Rice [280]
I felt a cold trepidation as Merrick lifted the can of kerosene and poured it over the coals and the wood lavishly, and then applied the taper and stepped back. I had never seen a freestanding fire of this size.
“Come here to me, both of you,” she called out. “And be my helpers, and repeat what I tell you to repeat and do as I say. What you’ve believed in the past is not important. Believe with me now. That is everything. And you must put your faith in what I do and say to make this exorcism strong.”
We both gave her our consent.
“Quinn, don’t fear it,” she said.
The fire was blazing and crackling. I stepped back, instinctively, and Merrick and Lestat moved back as well. Lestat seemed particularly to hate it. Merrick seemed in some way fascinated. Too fascinated, I thought, but then what did I know?
“Tell me the true names of Garwain’s parents and ancestors, as you know them,” said Merrick.
“Julien and Grace; Gravier and Alice; Thomas and Rose; Patsy—that’s all.”
“Very well. Now remember what I’ve said to you,” she told us. And, stepping back, she reached into the large black bag again and took from it a golden knife. With the knife she slashed at her wrist, and, drawing as close to the fire as she could, she let her blood splash into it.
Then Lestat, fearing for her, yanked her back from the scorching flames.
She drew in her breath as though she had been in danger and even frightened herself. Then she brought out a chalice from the bag, and she told me to hold it, and she slashed her wrist again, deeply and roughly, and the blood flowed into the cup, and she took it from me, and she heaved the blood into the flames.
The heat of the fire was dreadful now, and it frightened me and I hated it. I hated it with a Blood Hunter’s instinct and a human’s instinct. I was relieved when Merrick took the chalice from my hands.
Suddenly Merrick threw back her head and raised her arms, forcing us both to step away from her and give her room. She cried out:
“Lord God, Who made all things, seen and unseen, bring your servant Garwain to me, for he still roams the Earthly Realm and is lost to your Wisdom and your Protection! Bring him here to me, Lord, that I may guide him to you. Lord, hear my cry. Lord, let my cry come unto you. Hear your servant Merrick. Look not on my sins, but on my cause! Join your voices with me, Lestat and Tarquin! Now.”
“Hear us, O Lord,” I said immediately, hearing Lestat murmuring a similar prayer. “O Lord, hear us. Bring Garwain here.”
Frightened as I was, I found myself suddenly locked to the ceremony, and as Merrick continued, Lestat and I murmured some of the more familiar chants.
“Lord, look with mercy on your servant Garwain,” called out Merrick, “who from infancy has roamed in confusion among other mortals, lost from the Light and no doubt hungering for it. Lord, hear our prayer. Lord, look down on Garwain, Lord, send Garwain to us!”
All of a sudden, a huge gust of wind swept the nearby oak trees, and a shower of leaves came down on the fire, which sent up a roar of crackling, and the wind greatly excited it and increased it, and I saw above it, as best as I could, the figure of Goblin as my double, his eyes red in the light of the fire.
“You think a spirit doesn’t know the tricks of a witch, Merrick,” said Goblin in his low flat voice, which carried over the noise of the fire—a voice I hadn’t heard in over four years. “You think I don’t know you want to kill me, Merrick? You hate me, Merrick.”
At once the figure began to thin out and grow immense and come down with full force upon Merrick, but she cried out:
“Burn now, burn!”
And we all cut loose with our force against him, crying out the single word, “burn,” as we sent the power, and as he rose over the flames we saw him, a thing of myriad tiny flames, paralyzed above the fire and retracting and howling in a soundless and ghastly confusion, and then