Staked (The Iron Druid Chronicles, #8)(89)
“No! When was this?”
“A few days ago. But hopefully that will be someone else’s problem. We’re both shielded from her divination now. And I know where she is. I’m going to tell Brighid and let her take care of it. I have enough on my plate as it is.”
I told her about my run-ins with Werner Drasche and how my attempt on Theophilus in Berlin was a near miss. Also that Diana was free of her prison but still supremely pissed at us.
“She made an oath to leave us alone and broke it immediately. Jupiter said he’d keep her from pursuing us from now on, but we’ll see.”
“So what’s on the agenda here?” Granuaile asked. “Did I catch you on a break, or have you even started any shit yet?”
“I was casing the joint,” I explained, then pointed to the warded buildings. “Look at those buildings in the magical spectrum. They have some strange wards on them.”
She did and then turned to me. “Yeah. Malina said there was something odd going on at the piazza. Said those wards are as much traps as they are for protection.”
“Ah, I was wondering how you found me here.”
“Yeah, I just asked where the weird was happening in the world, and she pointed me here. And look! You’re right next to it!”
“Very clever. Did she say anything else about those wards?”
“Yes. She said they looked kind of Rosicrucian but different somehow.”
“Rosicrucian? Shit.”
“What? Why is there shit?”
<Hey, whoa! It wasn’t me!> Oberon said, panic in his voice.
<Me neither!> Orlaith chimed in. Hounds never want to be blamed when shit happens.
We reassured them that we were speaking figuratively and did not suspect for an instant that they were to blame, and once they went back to nipping each other’s ears and getting petted by passersby, I explained in a low voice to Granuaile why I was worried.
“Rosicrucians have a long and occasionally dark history—are you already familiar with them?”
“I’ve heard the term before but don’t know very much about them.”
“They’re a secret society that began in the early fifteenth century. They influenced Freemasonry and plenty of other societies that pledged themselves on their face to the betterment of society but kept their methods for achieving that behind closed doors. Some of them—I should say many of them—were genuinely trying to make things better, and I think that they did in some cases. They had a philosophy and despised the corruption of the Catholic Church, and they thought their mucking about with the mysteries of the universe was entirely honorable. We still have some Rosicrucian orders scattered about today, or other secret societies that claim no formal ties but were clearly influenced by them. The thing is, some of these groups—or, rather, offshoots of them—were cauldrons of evil, you know? Dudes made up their own secret societies and wore the term Rosicrucian to give them respectability, but underneath that lurked horrors, like a syphilitic dick hidden under a blanket. They would say they were dedicated to the sciences, but that really meant that they were pursuing alchemy and trying to learn dark secrets. You remember that Werner Drasche’s powers were given to him by an alchemist and that he later killed his creator, so to speak? Well, I got a good look at his tattoos back in Toronto. On the very top of his pate, in amongst the alchemical symbols, was a Rose Cross.”
“Oh. So some kind of Rosicrucian bad seed created the arcane lifeleech.”
“Yes. And it’s a safe bet that these Rosicrucian wards are going to be nasty. In fact, given that they most likely exist to protect Theophilus and we know of his connection to Werner Drasche, we can practically guarantee it. Let me throw another name at you: Ever heard of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn?”
“Golden Dawn—yeah. Wasn’t that the group with Bram Stoker, William Butler Yeats, and Aleister Crowley?”
“Yes. They were influenced by Rosicrucian mysteries as well. Very much into that, as well as into Hermetic Qabalism.”
“Hermetic Qabalah as opposed to Jewish Kabbalah?”
“Yes. A different system. More syncretic with other traditions. But their ceremonies still have the Tree of Life as their basis, so if you’re going to do something major—like ward three buildings—you probably need more than one person working on it.”
“Meaning there might be a bunch of Rosicrucians nearby.”
“Exactly. Let’s take a closer look at those wards.”
We descended the steps and crossed the piazza to examine the wards, hounds trailing behind us. In the magical spectrum we saw points of light in what appeared to be a random distribution, but after our recent conversation I was able to spy a pattern.
“Look here, Granuaile,” I said, pointing near the boundary of the ward but being careful not to touch it. I traced my finger in a lightning pattern. “See this? Ten points on the Tree of Life. And interlocking with it on all sides are more trees. It’s a Qabalistic ward. The Hermetic kind, I’m guessing.”
“Yes, I see. But what does it do?”
“That I do not know. We can see people going in and out of the stores here without a problem. I’m betting that it’s a ward specifically to mess with Druids. And I’m nervous about it because I remember when the Hammers of God confronted me in Tempe and essentially cut off my ability to bind anything. So I’m not anxious to stick my finger into this particular socket.”