What was this?
What did I find?
Rollin on this New Orleans tide
When I went down to the riverside
- Sara McCoy, “New Orleans”
The next morning was still hotter than the day before. Extreme temperatures were becoming dangerous, and people were starting to suffer from heatstroke and other heat-related illnesses. Daniel woke to crushing pain in his wrist as the phantom manacle that Ebonshard had clamped on him tightened even more.
“Get up, you lazy good for nothing!” The voice of Ebonshard himself reached his ears, coming from the manacle itself. “You’re going to find material for me. Or you’ll BE material.”
“Give me some time,” Daniel told him. “I don’t just trip over ‘material’ you know. You’ll get everything that is coming to you.”
"I better get something from you by midnight," the impatient ghost snarled. "Or my Regiment will find you."
After calling in sick to work, Daniel visited Beth and Chance to tell them what happened at the graveyard while they were unconscious. He told them that he needed to find a way to get the manacle off or Ebonshard would never leave him alone and he wouldn't be able to help them find Evelyn.
Both of them agreed that Daniel needed to find a way to get rid of the manacle. Chance went to see if he could find any other leads, while Daniel and Beth dove into his collection of occult source books. It took a few hours, but Daniel found an obscure reference to the Apodesmefsis Grimoriou, a Greek text that might have the information they needed. Unfortunately, it didn't say where to find the book.
Because he had found the name in one of Riley’s tomes, Daniel thought about paying the ghost another visit. Unfortunately, with the manacle on, there was a good chance that it could lead Ebonshard and his Regiment straight to Riley again. And indeed, no sooner had they gotten to Antique Alley than Ebonshard started calling again urging Daniel once more to find him a ghost and reminding him that Ebonshard could look in on him at any time.
Daniel and Beth snuck into Taken For Granted the same way as they had before. Riley’s spirit was still there, only now he looked as though he were bored out of his mind. “I hope you got rid of those ruffians,” he said. Daniel held up his arm with the manacle on it.
“No such luck. Now it’s even worse. We have to get in and get out.” Beth, from her perspective watching Daniel talk to himself, began a close examination of the occult bric-a-brac left from Riley’s business.
“I don’t know if I can help you,” said Riley. “I can touch that, but I don’t have the key or anything to pick the lock with.”
"I think I may know a way to unlock the manacle, but I need your knowledge. In your journal, you wrote about the Apodesmefsis Grimoriou. Where did you see that?"
“I procured a copy once for a collector in New Orleans,” Riley said. “I don’t know if he still has it. The man’s name was Victor Thorne.”
“Thorne? Like Silas Thorne from the bar… Oh, God, not Mad Isolde Thorne from that godawful mansion?”
"She may have been an ancestor of theirs, but I really don't know. He did mention that his brother Silas lived in Monroe. It's probably not a coincidence."
“Well, New Orleans is a big place. How do I find this guy?”
“I have the address he gave me,” Riley told him, giving him the address which he hurriedly wrote down.
“Thank you, Mr. Riley. I’ll leave you to your afterlife.”
“If you can avoid it, please don’t let those goons find me. I don’t want to be material.”
“Nor do I want you to be.” He returned to Beth, and gave her the address. “Looks like a good day for a road trip,” he told her.
The heat seemed to have affected the traffic on 165 South, as they encountered little interference from other drivers. Their old Buick chugged in the heat but made the four-hour trip, even over the I-10 high rise bridge, without incident. Ebonshard continued his campaign of harassment, even trying to manifest in the car, but Daniel managed to fend him off.
At last they came to the address that Riley had given them. It was a large, rambling old house in an industrial district that made the paper mill in West Monroe smell as sweet as Daniel’s gardenias in comparison. There were no security personnel in evidence, but the top of the fence was festooned with razor wire and had cameras on every corner trained on the street. What they could see beyond the fence appeared to be well organized.
Daniel was nervous about meeting Victor Thorne, a descendant of "Mad" Isolde Thorne. He wondered if Thorne could be trusted to help remove the manacle that Ebonshard had placed on him. If he could remove the manacle, what would be the price? Daniel pushed the button to open the gate and was unsurprised when an imperious voice asked "Yes?"
He replied, "My name is Daniel Hauser. I've come to see Mr. Thorne." Several of the cameras rotated toward him.
“Regarding?”
“Do you really want me to say it out here in public?” A minute of silence was the only response. “The Apodesmefsis Grimoriou,” he finally said.
A further minute of silence almost convinced him that Thorne wasn’t going to open up the gate, but then he asked “Where did you hear about that?” Daniel almost felt like he was back in Riley’s shop, being grilled by Drellassi again.
“I've come into possession of a journal that mentions the Apodesmefsis Grimoriou. I think it might have information that I need. Something from the Shadowlands has attached itself to me, and I'd very much like to be rid of it.” The manacle tightened again when he mentioned it. If it had been on the material plain, he thought it would have cut off his hand at the wrist already.
Daniel wasn't sure if Thorne would let them in. But the gate opened and they drove inside. Thorne's house was the complete opposite of their own cluttered place. It was immaculate, as if a team of maids had been cleaning it constantly. The rooms were filled with an extensive collection of antiques and rare books. Daniel and Beth were practically drooling by the time Thorne ushered them into a spacious library.
“ Are you also a collector, Mr. Hauser? That volume isn’t for sale.” Thorne looked down his nose through a pair of reading glasses at Daniel. “And I assure you, you won’t care for what happens if you try to make off with it.”
“You can have the bloody thing, and keep it for all I care. I just need to make a… well, I don’t really know what it’s called, but I want it to let go. Some dead asshat clamped a ghost manacle of some kind on me.”
“A ghost manacle?” Thorne looked skeptical.
“Until yesterday, I never heard of one either. But I’ll submit to whatever test you want.”
Thorne took Daniel’s left arm, and placed his wrist on a table before a crystal ball, which he started rubbing and declared “Pars, pallium. Concede mihi visionem ultra.” Daniel felt the Shroud begin to thin around them as he continued chanting. After a minute or so, Thorne opened his eyes, and seemed impressed by what he saw. “Remarkable. Where did you say this came from?”
Daniel told him the story as best he understood it. He noticed that Thorne’s interest pricked up when he mentioned Whispering Oaks plantation. After Daniel finished the story, Thorne cogitated on the issue for a few minutes.
"I've changed my mind," Thorne said. "I think it would be very interesting to let you have a look at the Apodesmefsis Grimoriou. And if you can't get that manacle off, I think I may be able to help you."
Daniel noticed that the man said nothing of price. “I don’t have a lot of money,” he said. “But I am willing to negotiate.”
"Good enough for now," Thorne said as he selected a book bound in black vellum. It radiated cold and had a musty, dank smell, like a wet graveyard. Daniel took the book and tried to make sense of the text, which was written in an odd Greek dialect. He recognized references to Stygia, the land of the dead, and Charon, the Ferryman. He also recognized the name Mohdri, the Stygian soulsmith. But the references to the bottom of the Labyrinth and the Veinous Stair were a mystery to him.
Daniel told Thorne that he didn't think he understood the text well enough to get out of his predicament. "Some of this stuff I've never heard before," he said, referring to the manacle.
“I thought as much,” said Thorne, “but how much you already knew surprised me. Still, I think I can help you in this regard.” He took the book back, and sat it on the table in front of him. Producing an open bell jar inscribed with alchemical symbols, he sat that down next to it. Lighting a brazier filled with incense he began.
“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…” The manacle grew icy cold on Daniel’s wrist, and the pain was so intense that he all but blacked out, concentrating on nothing beyond stopping Ebonshard from grabbing control of his body as the ceremony continued.
After what seemed like several excruciating hours, the pain suddenly abated, and sweet relief flooded his mind. He raised his head to see Thorne applying a wax seal and signet around the bell jar, laughing as he did so. “I’ll teach you to try that nonsense with me, Colonel” he told the contents of the bell jar. A bright green glow emanated from the jar, and inside Daniel could see a small figure pounding impotently at the side of the jar.
Daniel looked at his wrist in amazement. The ghost manacle was gone! Beth was staring wide-eyed at the aftermath of whatever spectacle had just happened.
“Your friend Ebonshard is even more obnoxious than you described him. I do hope his time in here,” Thorne patted the bell jar, “will improve his disposition.”
“I thought what you could do was amazing,” said Beth. “That was beyond anything I’ve ever seen.”
“Don’t think I’m not grateful, Mr. Thorne, and I know magic like that takes a lot out of you. But we never discussed your price, and I rather suspect that it is now that time.”
“Indeed,” said Thorne. “I’m rather intrigued by your story of where this fellow came from.” He nodded toward the jar again. “And the family he serves.”
“I thought you might take an interest in that,” said Daniel.
“My great-great aunt was known to have certain interests,” said Thorne. “She made off with many family heirlooms when she came here before the Civil War. I would like you to help me retrieve any of those that might still remain.”
“That place was… not somewhere I would like to go back to,” said Daniel.
“That is why I need the assistance of another necromancer. Even an incompletely trained one. That is my price. Of course,” he looked again at the jar. “I can easily let him out.”
“It won’t be a simple as you think,” said Daniel. “There’s a good chance that the place has already been raided of anything useful. There’s this voodoo cult sniffing around.”
“The Blackwoods? My brother has been keeping me apprised of their movements. I think you met him. He pretends to be an incompetent bar manager, but he’s my best agent. You didn’t think he was dumb enough to want them to do a spell to get him a better job, did you? Well, fortunately they did. I got a call from him a little while ago - they tried to get in there but the spirits of the place put up a fight. I suggest we get there as soon as possible.”
Daniel was honestly floored when Thorne said that Silas was his brother. Either Silas was one hell of an actor, or Thorne was severely overestimating his capabilities. Daniel didn't think Silas was that good an actor, though he didn't say so. "Interesting," he said. "How do you propose we get there before they try something else?"
“We’ll take my jet,” Thorne answered. “I need your magic, not your vehicle. I’ll have my people send your car back to Monroe. We really need to go now.” He hustled Daniel and Beth out of his house and into a waiting limousine. Watching downtown New Orleans fade into the background, Daniel couldn’t help regretting coming there. He was free of Ebonshard, but he wondered how much would it cost him in the end.