Dybbuk
Chapter Eleven

The sun had set by the time Lina and Jeri pulled up to Clear Water Sanitarium.

She hated doing these kinds of things at the twilight hours, that’s when they became unpredictable, a time of transitions, as her grandmother would say.

“Turn here,” Jeri whispered from behind.

Lina already turned. She didn’t need to be told where to go, she could feel it.

The dybbuk.

It was that sense of caution. That animal instinct she was no longer alone.

No longer safe.

They’d gone around the back of the Sanitarium. Lina needed to be careful at Clear Water. There were very few psychiatric wards that welcomed her in Clarion, mostly ones backed by a church or faith. Lina found those two weren’t exclusively the same thing. Sanitariums like that often knew what could plague people, when it was something more than an imbalance of chemicals and the inability to cope.

Not Clear Water. They only prayed at the altar of science and medicine.

The Director of Clear Water really didn’t like Lina either. He’d kicked her out twice already. Threatening to call the police for endangering of his patients, vandalism, and trespassing or something ridiculous like that. She’d even seen him avoid her on the streets. Lina sighed.

“Can’t save them all, Lina.” Jeri patted her on the shoulder, “Here, stop here.”

She turned off the Vespa and kicked out the stand. Dismounting, Lina quickly lifted the storage seat, tucked neatly at the bottom were Jeri’s Shofar and the Cedar Ark. Lina hooked a leather strap to the ark, and slung that over her head and onto her shoulder. It rested high on her hip and jabbed it a bit, but at least her hands were free. She handed Jeri the Shofar.

“Want me to take that?” Jeri asked, as he accepted the ram’s horn.

“No,” Lina readjusted the box. “You need to blow that horn. Besides, the box is lighter now that it’s in the ark.” She scanned for an entrance. Clear Water was a large, new and well-funded facility. None of it was abandoned or under remodel. It should be harder for the dybbuk to get around, also harder for them to get in.

“Lina.” Jeri spoke her name very quietly, “Up.”

She looked up.

“Shit.”

Nine floors up, a figure stood at the edge of the roof.

Mason.

His robe was open, pushed back by a strong breeze, exposing his flannel pajamas. Mason leaned back, then tilted forward and swayed at the mercy of the slight wind. Lina held her breath, but he didn’t pitch over the edge.

Someone else was with him.

“Emmet?” Lina squinted, “why is he here?”

Jeri tugged at Lina’s sleeve, “Come on.”

They headed towards a service door.

“Where is everyone?” Lina bit off. “Why hasn’t anyone seen him?”

“People see what they want to see,” Jeri peeked back at Lina, “you know that.”

Indeed, she did.

They stopped in front of a door, EMPLOYEES ONLY, Lina read the message in bold black, stay away letters. There was a key pad to the left.

“No good.” Lina said, tugging at the door. “I don’t have a contact here, no one to let us in. Or show us the fastest way up.”

“And since when has that ever stopped me?” Jeri commented.

“Always.” Lina muttered.

Jeri reached out anyway. The key pad blinked from red to blue and beeped in welcome. He pulled the service door open and instead of a hallway or set of winding stairs, stood Mason. He was right there, ten yards away and teetering at the lip of a nine story building.

“I thought that wasn’t how things worked.” Lina said as they stepped through.

Jeri glanced back at her, his smirk disapproving.

Then Lina looked past him.

Emmet stood behind Mason, his hands reaching out. He spoke softly, but Lina couldn’t be sure what he was saying. A Tallit Gadol hung across Emmet’s shoulders. Slung around his neck was a smaller, rougher version of Jeri’s Shofar. Emmet peeked from the corner of his eyes. He waved them away, never stopping his soft whispers, a prayer maybe? Lina couldn’t hear.

But she could see.

A woman, antlered and nothing more than a silhouetted shadow stood behind them both. The dybbuk was tethered by two figures. Mason, on the ledge and by her feet, Josh.

“Open the ark,” Jeri whispered harshly, as they inched closer.

Lina swung the ark to the front of her hip, prying off the lid, when her cell rang, and everything went very, very still.

“Oh my god,” Lina felt for her cell, patting down her pockets. Not there.

The sound echoed across the wide, silent rooftop.

“Turn it off!” Jeri hissed. “Lina!”

Inside, inside coat pocket. She pulled it out, it was Siobhan. What in the world? Siobhan knew not to call when Lina was on a job.

“Lina,” Jeri repeated, “Whatever you do, don’t—”

The long bleat of Emmet’s Shofar cut Jeri off, and Mason screamed.

“Mr. Weisman, no!” Lina yelled over the Shofar, but all sound had been cut off and the only thing she could hear was that long, flat note from the horn. And Mason, she could defiantly hear Mason. He crouched down, covering his ears with the whole of his arms.

Screaming.

Two voices, there were two voices, one lapped over the other, screeching.

Mason began to rock back and forth. The dybbuk stepped next to him on the ledge.

Lina dropped her cell, reached inside the ark, the music box curiously light.

Together they rocked back and forth on the balls of thier feet.

Lina turned the crank.

Back and forth.

The lid opened.

Mason leaned back.

The dybbuk leaned forward.

And off.

Jeri leapt, grabbing Mason by the shoulder, and yanked him back. They both tumbled backwards onto the roof and straight for Lina. They knocked into her legs, sweeping them away. Crashing forward, the ark jabbed into her stomach and the music box slipped from Lina’s grip. Her vision went white in a blinding flash of light that blotted out all sounds, scents and everything else.

When the world came back, Lina found herself staring up at the night sky.

There weren’t any stars.

It was a funny thing to notice, at a time like this.

She lay on her back, ears ringing.

A hand waved over, and then a face came into view.

Emmet.

Lina sat up, almost cracking her forehead into Emmet’s. She looked around; sounds were coming back. Now it only sounded like she was underwater. Emmet was talking, but she couldn’t understand him. No one else was on the roof.

Where was Mason?

“Jeri?” She called out, her muddled voice finally breaking through.

There was no answer.

“Jeremiah!” Lina called out.

“Ms. Espiridion,” Emmet said her name gently. “He is not here.”

Lina looked around. No one. It was only her, Emmet, and that damned music box.

The box.

Lina stood, scrambling to the overturned box. The lid was closed and no one else was around. Not even Mason. She picked it up, again it was curiously light. A spiritual fly trap, that’s what Jeri had called it. Lina touched the crank; all she had to do was turn it.

“Ms. Espiridion.” It was Emmet again, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know that would be the wrong thing to do. Here, give the box over to me. I will free your Seraphim.”

Turn it.

All she had to do what turn it.

“Ms. Espiridion.” Emmet repeated her name, an edge to it.

She dropped her hand.

He was right.

If Lina was going to free Jeri she’d need to do it the smart way. Not go rushing off like some fool knight. But she didn’t want to only free Jeri; she needed to deal with the thing inside. And what about Mason? Josh? They were probably trapped in the box too. Lina would need a Key and a few other things to get them both out. It would be best to go back to the shop. She’d have to get Ben there to Sunder the dybbuk. That would be hard, since he’d left Jeri in charge of Haven while out of Clarion on business. So if not Ben, then maybe Emmet—

Lina looked at the antique shop owner. He was prepared with his prayer shawl and Shofar in hand, but no box. Nothing to trap the Dybbuk.

“How did you know?” Lina asked slowly.

“What do you mean?” Emmet asked.

“Here, Clear Water, how did you know to look here for the dybbuk? About Jeri?”

Emmet’s brow furrowed. “After you showed up at my shop, and refused to bring me the dybbuk box, I made some inquires.”

“That led you here?”

“Ms. Espiridion,” he frowned, “I have been doing this sort of work far longer—”

Her cell rang.

Lina felt her pockets, wait that’s right, she’d dropped it. Lina followed the sound, a small beacon of light flared up about two feet away. She picked it up.

Siobhan again.

Lina answered it.

“Finally!” Siobhan shouted, “Why didn’t you answer—what?” She sounded distracted, “Yeah, I got her. No, I haven’t told her yet. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“Look, Siobhan,” Lina breathed into the phone, “can it wait?”

“Wait? No, this can’t wait. I need to tell you—” then louder, “I know, that’s what I’m trying to do, Victor.”

“Victor?” Lina asked. “Is Victor out of his loop? Does he remember anything?”

“That’s what I’m calling about.”

Lina sighed. Siobhan’s timing was usually so good, but not right now.

“Just tell me about it when Mr. Weisman and I—”

“Mr. Weisman?” Siobhan shouted, “The man that owns that weird antique shop?”

“Yeah,” Lina pulled the phone away, “he was already here when Jeri and I arrived”

“No! Lina! That’s what I’m calling about.”

As Lina listened to Siobhan; the little hairs on her neck pricking up, one by one.

“Mr. Weisman,” Siobhan continued, her words a little more than panicked.

Lina turned to face Emmet.

“Victor says he’s—”

Instead she saw the edge of the Cedar Ark bearing down on her. A sharp searing pain burned along her scalp as it connected. The sky with no stars spun around her, Lina felt nauseous, dizzy and when the floor came rushing up to meet her, she felt nothing at all.

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