I swallowed. Unlike Mordechai, I had no more scrolls, no jewelry bearing a Hamsa hand to add to my gift of the mezuzah. But the ex-rabbi had taught me long ago that true exorcists didn’t reallyneedtheir vials of holy water, their beads or symbols. Such tools and totems had been created over the centuries to represent the essence of God, so that everyone could tell themselves it was God who had the power. God, and not the exorcist.
Thump.
Still, as far as an actual vanquishing of evil went, those tools weren’t truly required, Mordechai had always said. All you needed was words, faith…and an exorcist too stubborn to fail.
Thump.
Mrs. Klein started crying as she shuffled closer to the door at the end of the hallway. I huffed a shallow breath, suddenly wanting to cry too.
I couldn’t fail this test. Not even a little. Once challenged, a demon either fled—or it killed. There was no other option.
Thump.
Demons were only instruments of trial, Mordechai always said. When they trespassed into God’s sons or daughters—pressing against the souls of the weak and forcing a choice between fear and faith—an exorcist merely had to send them on their way. And we could, he insisted. We always could.
Thump.
We could.
I walked down the dark, narrow hallway toward whatever was waiting in the back of Mrs. Klein’s house and dearly hoped that he was right.
Chapter
Two
As usual with diabolical possession, I smelled the afflicted long before I saw them.
The afflictedstank.
Not like sweat or unwashed bodies. Worse. Decay and burning sulfur and something sweet underneath, fruit rotting in summer heat. My stomach rolled, and I had to breathe through my mouth as I finally stepped into the tiny back bedroom.
Mrs. Klein’s sister’s name was Iris, but there was nothing flower-like about the creature who stood against the far corner. Her forehead was split open, apparently from where she’d been banging it into the wall. Blood streamed down her face in a thick, smudged line, the same color as the smears on the faded wallpaper behind her. She huffed in low, short breaths, clearly aware I was there, though she wouldn’t look directly at me. Her hair was lank, the color of dirty snow, and her thin housedress was stained with food, sweat, and grime.
My gaze swiveled back to Mrs. Klein, as neat and carefully pressed as an old sheet, smelling of desperation and stale tea, and my question must have been obvious.
“She hasn’t let me near her in days.” Mrs. Klein’s smile was tremulous, apologetic. “It gets better. She’ll wake up.” Shefluttered her hand. “She’ll wake up from this, and she’ll be fine. Or at least, she always used to wake up, come out of it. This time…” Her words trailed off.
“How long has it been this bad?”
The smile slipped a little. “Since I spoke with Rabbi Mordechai. Since he told me he would come.”
I nodded, a sliver of apprehension worming through me at what I was going to attempt alone. Still, I couldn’t back down now. Didn’t want to back down, I realized.
It was more than time.
Relief knifed through me. “Yeah, well. Don’t leave me hanging here,” I muttered, so softly Mrs. Klein couldn’t hear me, Iris couldn’t hear me. I could hardly hear myself…but someone could.
A soft, curling sigh drifted up within me, and I realized I’d never—not once—asked the voice within me for actual help before. I’d cursed it, tried to drown it out, damned it, begged it to leave. But I’d never asked it for assistance. Maybe that wasn’t allowed?
Too late now. And I needed all the help I could get.
I took a step toward Iris, and the woman seemed to snap to awareness, pressing herself against the wall.
“Aggie, get her away from me!”
Mrs. Klein jolted at her words, visibly shaken. “Iris?” she asked, and by the eagerness in her voice, I could tell that the sister probably hadn’t said anything intelligible in the past few days.
“Get her away, now.Please.” Iris lifted quavering fingers to smooth her hair back against her skull, as if that was all she needed to do to set herself to rights. “I’m okay, Aggie, I just had a spell. You know how my spells are.” Iris’s face tried to work its way into a smile, despite the line of blood trailing down her cheek.
