Goetic Justice 2

"You should sit Ryan, rest," the Seirim insisted. He drew his handgun from his belt and gave the prone figure a tentative poke with the toe of his shoe. It remained motionless, it looked dead. Had a hiker or a Mason spy found their way into the cabin while Ryan had been away? Had the Seirim killed them? He stowed his weapon again, needing to make use of his good arm, and flipped the body over onto its back.

Ryan recoiled in horror, his face bleached almost as white as that of the corpse. Its skin was pallid and lifeless, its eyes glassy and unfocused, its mouth agape. It was...him? It was Ryan. He felt like he was looking into a mirror, this person was even wearing his clothes. He backed away in shock, not understanding what he was seeing. He was alive, was he not? Was this some kind of copy? Was Ryan actually dead and he just didn't know it yet?

"Be calm," the Seirim insisted, "that is only your body."

"M-My body?" Ryan stammered, "am I dead? Did I die?"

"No," she chuckled, "silly Ryan. Your first body went cold when Gaap took you away. Then he made a new one to put your soul inside."

"What? Gaap made me a new body?"

"Yes," she said with an enthusiastic nod. "The body cannot be moved, it is made of meat and bone, but the soul is immaterial. It weighs nothing, easy to carry."

"Oh, yeah...Gaap did say that I had to die to travel. I just didn't expect to see...this."

"Should we eat it?" the Seirim asked quizzically, her head cocked like that of a curious dog.

"No!" Ryan exclaimed, "you can't eat me...it. We should bury it, out in the woods somewhere where nobody will stumble across it. God damn, this is just...unnatural."

He flipped it back onto its side, not even wanting to look at it. Now he was going to have to dispose of a dead body too. He couldn't exactly explain to the police that a demon had made a copy of him and that no crime had been committed, he'd be sent straight to the loony bin, and the electric chair shortly after.

The floor shook as something large impacted the ground outside the cabin. It could only be Azazel. Ryan hurried through the rickety door and out into the cool night air, the trees that ringed the clearing blown by a gentle breeze and the stars twinkling above him.

The Watcher flexed its leathery wings, shaking its furry body like a giant dog, stepping out of the small crater that it had made in the muddy earth.

"Is Nahash alright?" Ryan asked as he came to a stop before the beast, "did we win?"

"Hold out thy hand," Azazel rumbled, and Ryan did as it asked. It dropped the onyx ring into his palm, and he hastily slid it back onto his finger. Almost as soon as it was back in place, he noticed the familiar drop in temperature as Nahash began to reform. The long shadows that were cast by the trees started to move of their own accord, independent of the gentle swaying of the forest, coalescing into a single point and forming a humanoid shape.

Ryan was upon her before she had even become solid, wrapping his arms around her body as it manifested and plunging his face into her downy ruff, ignoring the pain that shot through his injured limb. He took in a lungful of her scent, feeling her arms close around him as she reciprocated. He released her from his embrace and took a step back, looking up at her as she smiled down at him.

"We did it," she said, "and you made it back safely. I'm so relieved. Oh, your shoulder!"

"It's fine," Ryan said, fighting her off as she fussed over him. "Your sisters have gone to fetch ingredients for a healing salve, but I'll need to see a doctor pretty soon. I'm not sure how I'm going to explain why I have a wound channel from a 7.62mm NATO round through my shoulder, however."

He heard movement from behind him and the sister who had remained at his side in the cabin sped out to greet the new arrivals. Nahash leapt into her sister's arms, braying happily, and Ryan looked towards Azazel as the beast let slip a brief smile. There was humanity lurking under that brutish exterior, even though it rarely surfaced.

"The day is won," it boomed, turning its attention back to Ryan. "The mortal who summoned Haures is dead, the demon shall trouble thee no more. The Ark has been destroyed, and by thy hand, the material realm has been spared a terrible fate. Without its power these Masons cannot commune with their deity, they cannot summon Seraphim, and they cannot enact their plan. What's more, their highest leaders are dead, and the knowledge that they held is gone along with them."

"The three men in the vault?" Ryan asked, and Azazel nodded its massive head.

"The organization still has many chapters around the world, and they still wield Solomonic knowledge, but we have dealt a blow that they will not soon recover from."

"And what of the Seirim who were lost during the battle in the forest?" Ryan asked, "can they be restored?"

"Their spirits hibernate in the immaterium," Azazel replied. "They are in a state of low energy, but they can be awakened. My remaining daughters will no doubt see to that."

"That's a relief," Ryan sighed. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Of all the things that had been eating away at him, it was the deaths of the Seirim rather than his impromptu killing sprees that had most weighed on his mind. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he had been partially responsible for tearing apart Nahash's family.

"Nahash," Ryan said as he turned to face her, "we should get moving. We need to figure out what we're going to do next. This cabin isn't safe, and the Masons will still be out looking for us. We have to find a way to disappear, to get under their radar somehow. We might have dealt with the magickal side of things, but there's still an army of corrupt cops who know my face and who have orders to kill me on sight."

"If the Masons still have the ability to summon demons then even that might not be enough," Nahash replied. "With the power of prescience, they will be able to locate you no matter where you go in the world. Changing your name and appearance will be of little use against such methods."

"There must be something that we can do, some way that we can escape them. After everything we've been through to get here, we can't just give up now."

"It seems that I owe thee another favor," Azazel interjected, "this is becoming a habit."

The creature reached a hand towards its forearm and plucked a long, black hair from its shaggy coat. It placed the hair in its palm then closed its fingers around it, squeezing it tightly. Ryan watched as dark smoke poured from between its furry digits, as if Azazel was clutching a hot coal in its hand.

It lowered its enormous hand down towards Ryan, the span of its fingers the size of a manhole cover. When it opened them, he saw a tiny object nestled in the fur of its palm. He reached inside and plucked the item from the beast's coarse coat, turning it over in his hand as he examined it.

It was a second ring. This one had a black band of metal much like the first, and it was similarly decorated with runes that glowed with a residual heat. But it was encrusted with a jewel, orange in color and about the size of his fingernail. No, it wasn't a gemstone, it almost looked like amber. Contained within it was the thick, dark hair that Azazel had plucked from his arm, curled into a spiral.

"We Watchers are skilled at changing our appearance," Azazel explained. "Samael appeared before ye mortals as a handsome and radiant man, but it was naught but a facade. We are all beasts, monsters, conceived as much for Yahweh's curiosity and amusement as for our holy purpose. There is a little of that magick imbued into this ring. Wear it, and it shall change thy appearance in the eyes of thy fellow mortals. None shall recognize thee."

Ryan slipped it over his finger, adjacent to his wedding band.

"Nor shall any demon be able to track thee," Azazel added, "thou shalt be shielded from their eyes. Rendered invisible. Only a being of equal power to my own, a Seraphim, would be able to see through the illusion."

"Thank you," Ryan stammered, "I-I don't know what to say."

"No, it is I who owe thee thanks," Azazel said. "To put thyself at such great risk for my cause, to be injured in my service, this gift is the least than I can bestow upon thee. Though it is not cast from metal and it grants thee no magickal powers, thou shalt have my gratitude as well."

The Seirim emerged from the trees and hurried over to greet their father and sister, then they mobbed Ryan, pulling off his shirt as one of them produced a wooden bowl that contained an off-green paste that looked like guacamole. She scooped it up in her fingers and began to spread it around his wound. Ryan flinched as she pushed some of it inside the hole, grimacing as a jolt of pain shot down his arm.

"It must go inside," she explained. "You will feel better soon."

"It seems that thou art in good hands," Azazel said, "I shall take my leave. We will surely meet again, Ryan Cutter. Fare thee well."

It unfurled its massive, bat-like wings, the span of them twenty feet at least. The beast flapped them, gusts of wind threatening to blow Ryan off his feet, and then the Watcher shot up into the sky like a rocket. Its dark fur was soon lost amidst the blackness of night, Ryan no longer able to make out its silhouette against the stars above.

The Seirim finished applying their salve, and Ryan eased his shirt and jacket back over his shoulder. It still hurt, but they were right, the mixture was beginning to numb the pain.

"I guess we're back at square one now," he said, Nahash cocking her head at him.

"How do you mean?"

"I've certainly been fired for not showing up to work by now, and I couldn't go back if I wanted to. My apartment has been all but destroyed. My car has probably been jacked, and I can't drive it anyway because the cops will be looking for it. You and your sisters are out of energy, and your grove is gone, you have no place to live."

"There are other forests," Nahash said, "if you were able to start a myth here then you can do the same elsewhere. We can found a new grove, seek out a new place where we can be safe, and once we are established Azazel will afford us his protections once again."

"So we just start from scratch?" Ryan asked.

"I don't see that we have a choice," she replied with a shrug. "There must be other cities and towns that border forests or wilderness where we Seirim might make our home, and where you will be able to start a new life. Across the country perhaps, far away from here."

"Yeah...yeah I can see that," he said as his dour mood began to lighten. "Hell, we could go anywhere we wanted! We could go up to the Pacific Northwest, and you guys could live in the redwood forests. Or we could go down to New Mexico, and you could live in the desert. You've lived in deserts before, right?"

Nahash nodded.

"We could move to the Rocky Mountains or maybe New Hampshire," he added, "we could even go to Alaska if we wanted to. There's nothing to tie us down, not even my old identity. I never liked living in the big city anyway, I only moved there to be with Becky, and I only stayed out of habit. I still have my pin number, I could empty my bank account, there's enough in there to put me up for at least a couple of months while I look for work. Thanks to Azazel, the Masons will never find us."

"There is one pressing matter," Nahash began. "If my sisters and I are to disperse our forms and manifest somewhere new, if we are to recall our fallen sisters from their hibernation in the immaterium..."

"You need energy," Ryan sighed.

The Seirim crowded around him, glancing at one another excitedly, Nahash nodding with a wry smile on her lips.

"If it isn't too much trouble."

"You still got enough juice left over to shapeshift into Natasha?" Ryan asked.

"It's not really shapeshifting," she corrected, "I just use my powers to influence the perceptions of mortals. But yes, for a time at least."

"Then me and you are going to walk back to town and get this wound looked at. I also need a hot meal, and a change of clothes wouldn't be unwelcome either. I'll empty my bank account, and then we can take a bus to a motel outside the city. We can put our feet up for a while and figure out what we're going to do next, and then you guys can fill up on energy. Sound good?"

Nahash nodded.

"But Ryan only just got back!" one of the Seirim whined.

"Stay a while, Ryan."

"Don't leave us yet, Ryan!"

"Go deeper into the forest and try to stay out of sight if anyone comes looking," Nahash advised, and they reluctantly did as they were asked. Ryan watched them slink off between the trees, and then he headed back to the cabin to retrieve his backpack and his summoning gear. Wherever he ended up going, he would need his equipment. It seemed likely that he would have to call on Orobas a second time, the demon had helped him out immensely following his first attempt at summoning, and it couldn't be argued that his need wasn't genuine.

He retrieved all of his books and wards, stowing his handgun in the pack along with them. He didn't want to discard it just yet, he might still need it, but he couldn't be seen walking around with a weapon like that in the open. It would draw unwanted attention.

He slung the bag over his shoulders then yelped as the strap dug into his wound.

"Careful," Nahash said, "do you want me to carry it for you?"

"No, no, I got it." He slipped a single strap over his good shoulder and then made for the door. He wondered idly what the people who visited the cabin next would make of it. The flower garden still flourished inside the bedroom, the greenery and colorful petals spilling out into the hallway. There was a summoning circle chalked onto the floorboards, surrounded by spent candles, and...

"Fuck, I forgot about the body," he muttered. "We should really bury it."

"If the police are indeed as corrupt as you believe, then it will not matter if the body is found. The Masons will clean it up, assuming that they find this shack."

"It's on all the maps of the national forest, they'll come looking here eventually."

"Then it is no concern of ours. We should make haste Ryan, your injury has already been left untreated for too long."

"It's a long walk back," he said, adjusting the weight of the pack as he stepped out into the breeze. He took a minute to enjoy the sensation of the cool air on his skin, the rustling of the leaves and the scents of the forest soothing him. "But it will be nice to have some time to talk without the threat of Haures and the Masons looming over our heads."

When she emerged from the cabin behind him, she had already taken on the appearance of Natasha, a tall and striking woman with hair that was so blonde that it bordered on white. She was wearing a jacket and jeans, along with a pair of hiking boots.

"Is my attire suitable?" she asked.

"That's great," he chuckled, "you actually look like you're supposed to be out here. The Masons are looking for Ryan Cutter and his Seirim familiar, they're not looking for a couple of hikers. We can always bullshit our way through if we come across anyone."

"Do you know the way back?"

"Yeah," he said, "I still have the map on my phone. Hang on..." He rummaged through one of the pockets of his bag and retrieved his phone, switching it on, the glow from the screen lighting up his face in the darkness. "Yeah, here we are. If the cabin is...here, then we need to go in...that direction," he said as he pointed into the woods. "We should find a hiking trail in a couple of miles that will take us back to town."

"It's a nice night for a nature walk," she said, taking his hand in hers. They set off into the trees, leaving both the cabin and the events of the last several days far behind them.

EPILOGUE

Ryan pulled into his driveway, turning off the engine and stepping out of his truck. It was a flatbed, the paint worn in places, the large tires covered in mud and dirt. It was a far cry from the town car that he had owned when he had lived in the city, that one had been so sleek and clean, but this vehicle was well suited to the rough backroads that one had to contend with out here. A four-wheel drive was necessary if you didn't want to get stuck in a ditch, and a demon would only ever give you what you needed...

He stretched his arms over his head then slammed the door behind him, making his way up the path towards his house as he spun the keys around his finger. The evergreen trees towered above its roof beyond the clearing, the snowy caps of mountains visible in the far distance, rising just above the leafy canopy.

With what had been left in Ryan's bank account after engraving the tin plates for Gaap's payment, he had been able to buy an old house on the West coast, only a few miles from the Canadian border. It was a little run down and far larger than he really needed, putting his old apartment to shame. But it was perfectly situated, far enough from the road that nobody would ever stumble across it without being invited and deep enough into the forest for Nahash to be comfortable. It was far more suited to her needs than their apartment in the city had been, he didn't have to take days off work so that he could drive her out into nature. She only had to open her front door, and there it was.

Her sisters had been able to find a suitable location for their new grove nearby, close enough that it was only an hour's hike away. They were neighbors now, which meant that both he and Nahash would be able to spend more time with them. After laying low for a couple of weeks to make sure that the Masons had lost their scent, Ryan had been able to help the Seirim to generate the energy needed to bring their sisters back from the immaterium. It had taken several days, and they had needed to pace themselves so as not to exhaust him, but Ryan would be lying if he said that he hadn't enjoyed himself. Azazel had arrived one day to put another protective barrier up around their new grove once they had decided on the location, shielding its inhabitants from any unwanted attention, and then the Watcher had vanished again. Who knew what the beast was up to these days, or how it spent its time when it wasn't fighting Seraphim.

Orobas had done a great job once again, the demon never seemed to disappoint. It had been able to find him a job in the nearest town, even without the benefit of Ryan's experience and qualifications, all of which he had been forced to abandon along with his old identity. The pay was lower than what he was used to but so were his living costs. He had very little to complain about.

As he neared the door, it opened, and he saw Nahash duck through it to stand beneath the porch that wrapped around the house. The supports were already sporting their own growths of moss and small flowers, vines and creepers making their way up the walls of the building as if the forest was attempting to reclaim it. She greeted him as he approached her, leaning down to plant a kiss on his forehead.

"How was your day?"

"Fine," he replied, stepping inside as she followed behind him. "You were right about spending some time at the bar after work, I think the locals are slowly starting to accept me, city boy that I am."

"I have more than enough energy to change my appearance if you'd like to bring anyone back here," she said, "you should try to make some friends. If we're going to be staying here, you should put down roots, become a member of the community."

"There have been no signs of any Masons snooping around," he said as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a coat rack beside the door. "How long has it been now, two months? Either our trail has gone cold, or they never found it to begin with. I think it's safe to say that we're in the clear. How have your sisters been doing?"