John Ringo: Queen of wands

“Because we have free will,” Barb said. “We can choose to resist.”

“Accepted,” Sharice said. “However, there are indicators that just as demons can possess, so can higher spirits. Angels and saints. There is historical basis for the latter.”

“If you’re saying you want me to call on St. Dymphna, who, if I get this right, was a teenage girl, to possess me, to help me fight drakni…”

“It’s more likely that she would possess someone similar to her,” Sharice said. “And it’s very hard to arrange. Extraordinarily rare. It would require someone who is pure of soul, about the right age, preferably has the right look, and who is in mortal danger from a demon. Preferably a similar one to the one that possessed Dymphna’s father. And it would probably require some type of…free pass? I’m trying to put this in Christian terminology. In pagan terms, it would require that the door be opened from both sides of the planes, that another entity opened the door for her to pass through. Not to mention a nod from the White God and acceptance of His Gift upon the part of the possessee. And you don’t have to have help to fight drakni. Or even drakni Mothers. But Dymphna would probably be able to wipe out a whole Legion of drakni Mothers. Or at least dispel them. Cast them back into the infernal realms. Of course some idiot would probably just summon them again, but it’s a point on our side. If a person became possessed of Dymphna and we found out about it, trust me, we’ll recruit her in a heartbeat.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Barb said. “Especially if I can stop seeing these things all over the place.”

“Now, this is just a gluttony demon. That’s not too bad. But there are others. All the usual sins, of course. Then there are anger demons, hate demons, lust, as in Dymphna’s father, and the worst, murder drakni.”

“Serial killers?” Barb asked.

“As far as I know, universally,” Sharice said. “Even the ones the FBI considers ‘common.’ Ted Bundy, a Legion, at least sixteen separate types including several flavors of murder drakni; Charles Manson, Son of Sam. I don’t actually know of one that wasn’t infested. But the point to remember is that they had to have an opening. The demons might have pushed them over the edge, but they had the desires and the interest. As you said, there is free will. The person has to be willing to take the demon into their soul. Whether they realize that willingness or not. And they have to choose to carry out the agenda of the demon.”

“So we don’t chase these?” Barb asked, incredulously. “They cause mayhem and death and they’re just off our radar screen?”

“Not always,” Sharice said. “But mostly. We just don’t have the time, Barb. You’ve been taking family time over the last few months. I’m not meaning to guilt you, but the rest of us have been stretched. We could have used a Level Three at least five times while you’ve been playing Suzy Homemaker down in Mississippi. A Level One can dispel a drakni if the possessee is willing. A priest that’s not even particularly holy can get rid of one. Drakni are training demons, mostly for sight and hearing as we’re doing here. Now, a drakni Mother might require a Level Three. And if when we find those, we get rid of them if we can. But, again…”

“The possessee has to believe and be willing,” Barb said with a sigh.

“Right,” Sharice said. “So, you ready for the next step?”

“Which is?” Barb asked suspiciously.

“To dispel one without using massive amounts of power, you have to have its True Name,” Sharice said, grinning. “As I said, you can get that with The Ear. But he’s going to have to be out of the box.”

Barb glanced at the pentacle, then looked at Sharice.

“You have got to be joking.”

“Ready?” Sharice asked, opening the box.

“I hope,” Barb said, getting into panther position again.

“Confidence is pretty important with any demon,” Sharice said, touching one of the symbols on the box and muttering. “There’s a reason I chose this one.”

“Which is?” Barb asked as the demon popped its head up over the top of the box. She heard it almost immediately, the whispering in her mind. It was more of a craving for…Cheetos? Okay, so she liked Cheetos. It wasn’t like she was…Man, she really wanted some…

“You’ve never shown much interest in food,” Sharice replied. “Now, me, I’ve got all my defenses up. But I’ve worked with him before. But I figured there wouldn’t be much of a hook with you, not with your figure.”

“Thank you,” Barb said.

“Don’t make me get out the vanity demon, skinny,” Sharice said.

“I can handle it,” Barb replied.

“Or the pride one.”

“Okay,” Barb admitted. “Point. But it doesn’t really matter. It found a hook.”

“Not much of one,” Sharice said, gazing at the demon. “It hasn’t leapt. What’s the hook?”

“So I like Cheetos…And fried chicken. Is that a sin?”

“Not if you don’t overindulge,” Sharice replied. “But ignore the Cheetos and cheesecake…”

“I hate cheesecake…”

“Never mind. Ignore it. But open up your Ear. Don’t focus. Just stay calm…”

“Zen…” Barb said. “Ignore the dressing with gravy…”

“It’s there,” Sharice said, hypnotically. “Can you hear it? It sings its name along with the food. Very faint, an undercurrent, almost unnoticeable…”

“Zagnatag,” Barb said. “Is that what you mean?”

At the sound of its name, the demon dove into the box.

“How long have you…?” Sharice asked, hands on her hips.

“Pretty much from the beginning,” Barb said, straightening out of her defensive crouch. “It was louder than the Cheetos. I just figured it was white noise or something.”

“There are times I really dislike you, Barbara Everette,” Sharice said, half bitterly. “I’ve got years of training, and having someone as Gifted as you come along is just…I had to sit with this thing for a week to catch its True Name!”

“Yeah?” Barb said. “Well, do you go around with whispers and shouts filling your head all the time? Huh?”

“Good point,” Sharice admitted. “One which we’re going to have to work on. But since you know its True Name, control it.”

“How?” Barb asked, crouching again.

“Oh, quit that,” Sharice said. “Fix the name in your mind and call it out. Tell it to move around. If your will is stronger, it will have to obey. You don’t even have to open your mouth.”

Barbara raised her hand to do just that, then paused.

“I’m not sure I should,” Barb said.

“It’s not hard,” Sharice pointed out.

“No, I mean I should not, not I can not,” Barb corrected. “My religion does not control demons or consort with them. We destroy them.”

“Jesus sent the Legion into a herd of pigs,” Sharice said. “Think of it that way.”

“And it wasn’t a popular thing to do,” Barb said. “Can I do it? Probably. Should I do it? That might take some soul searching. It feels wrong.”

“Well, you can find out a True Name faster than anyone I’ve ever seen,” Sharice said with a shrug. “And once you have that, and your level of power, he’s basically putty in your hands. If you really feel the need to dispel him, feel free. We’ll have to find another one eventually…”

“No,” Barb said, shaking her head. “The Foundation does God’s work. But each…”

“Must find their own God,” Sharice said, nodding. “Okay, you seem pretty solid on this stuff. Pulling out the rest of the boxes would be fairly pointless. Well, the ones I’d normally pull out for beginners; and I don’t have a couple more trained adepts to pull out the advanced. So…Time for field work.”