Shadows and Spirits

Chapter 9-1

It was dark by the time McEwan got home. The day had been the longest he had known in some time. He was more used to long nights with his recent case. After placing the ads, and with no further leads, he had returned to Pitt Street to try and finish his report. The possibility that Kate was in danger nagged at him constantly. He felt impotent, but what else could he do? His mobile phone rang as he opened the main door to the tenement.

“Hello?” he said, not recognising the number.

“Hi there,” said a woman in a sultry voice. “I hear you"re in need of discipline.”

McEwan thought he heard the crack of a whip in the background. While it was probably someone taking the piss, it could be a test. Was there supposed to be some kind of code word? He made a stab in the dark. “Sang real,” he said.

“Ah, vouz parlez Francais?” purred the woman.

“No. Not really,” said McEwan, as he began to climb the stairs. “I think you must have the wrong number,” he said.

“You placed an ad. Discipline sought from mistress.” The voice lost some of its honey and gained more vinegar.

“I think you"ve misunderstood. That was a disciple seeking a mistress. Like Mark, Luke and John,” said McEwan, not sure now was the time for a Sunday-school lesson.

“You should have written a clearer fuckin advert then,” said the woman and slammed down the phone. McEwan felt angry himself, agitated by the call. Perhaps that advert had been bad idea after all?

When he got to the landing on the second floor, he could hear his home phone ringing. He got out his keys and opened the front door. He hurried inside, sprinted down the hall and picked up the phone, leaving the door open. This phone was rarely used, and he recalled Kate"s experience.

“Hello,” he said, breathing heavily and sounding a bit like his mystery mobile caller.

“Consultant Detective Alexander McEwan?” asked a female voice. Her accent sounded English.

“Speaking. How can I help you?” Was this the phone call? He hadn"t expected to hear so soon, but then again he was already receiving prank calls.

“I think I can help you, Mr McEwan.”

“In what way?”

“I understand you wish to meet with my Mistress?”

Maybe this hadn"t been such a crazy idea after all. “That"s correct,” he said, still not a hundred percent certain that this wasn"t another prank call.

“The Mistress has considered it prudent to meet with you and has asked me to invite you to visit her this evening, if this is convenient.” There was no sense of a question in her voice, but equally it wasn"t likely McEwan was going to refuse.

McEwan"s tiredness melted away. “Of course I can meet her tonight. Where and when?”

“You will be met at the entrance to the Botanic Gardens on the corner of Byres Road and Great Western Road at 10 pm.”

“I"ll be there.”

“Goodbye, sir.” The line went dead.

McEwan looked at his watch: it was 9.15. If he was lucky he"d make it over to the West End. Barely in the door, he locked it and returned to his car, praying to the Gods of traffic lights and chance for a clear run.

* * *

He was greeted at the busy corner by a tall, spare young woman, dark bob, fine glasses perched on an aquiline nose.

“Hello, I"m Helen,” she said, the voice matching the one on the phone. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Hi,” said McEwan and took the offered hand, noticing even in the poor street lighting her pale skin and long thin fingers. Her hand was cold to the touch, as though her circulation was poor.

“I have a map for you. I will ask you to return it to me when we arrive at our destination. If you attempt to copy it the ink will fade. Do you understand?” Helen asked.

“I do.” McEwan wondered how that could happen, but right now it was the least of his worries.

“Excellent. I hope to see you in about half an hour, all going well.” She handed him a folded square of thick, yellowed paper and walked into the park.

Thinking it better to keep the contents to himself, just in case, McEwan returned to his car before he unfolded the thick paper. It appeared to lead him to a road at the foot of the Campsie Hills going via Bearsden. He pulled out onto Great Western Road and headed towards Anniesland Cross. After all this time, someone could have made this junction easier to negotiate. He eventually headed out onto the road to Bearsden. It felt strange leaving the city, he used to travel north all the time, but nowadays he hardly went out into the countryside.

While driving, McEwan ruminated on the combination of mysterious people and magic shops, which reminded him of some of the more outlandish aspects of Kate"s journal.

Robert has introduced me to some ideas and concepts I had not considered when I first began my work. He claims to have used a process of transformation to ascend to a higher state of being, or rather to become another type of being; a Nephilim…I have decided to attempt to become a Nephilim myself, Robert is adamant that I should not try this alone. He is afraid he is losing his influence over me. I must work on this myself…I feel It looking out of my eyes. Its thirst for everything to be experienced is hard to control. The best way I can describe the feeling is that it is like quitting smoking cigarettes for two days and trying to go cold turkey. Only instead of cigarettes it is all foods, drinks, sensations combined. I am close to tearing at my skin to let It out of me, but It isn"t really in my flesh. It is my mind It occupies, beside me.

Robert has introduced me to some ideas and concepts I had not considered when I first began my work. He claims to have used a process of transformation to ascend to a higher state of being, or rather to become another type of being; a Nephilim…I have decided to attempt to become a Nephilim myself, Robert is adamant that I should not try this alone. He is afraid he is losing his influence over me. I must work on this myself…I feel It looking out of my eyes. Its thirst for everything to be experienced is hard to control. The best way I can describe the feeling is that it is like quitting smoking cigarettes for two days and trying to go cold turkey. Only instead of cigarettes it is all foods, drinks, sensations combined. I am close to tearing at my skin to let It out of me, but It isn"t really in my flesh. It is my mind It occupies, beside me.Although he had first come across them in the name of a band he had listened to in his Goth days, The Fields of the Nephilim, McEwan had also found the Nephilim in the Bible. In the book of Genesis, they were a race of giants, who had been born when women had been impregnated by angels. The giants had spent their time causing mayhem and were wiped out by the Flood.

When he was at university, he had learned of books that were not selected for inclusion in the Bible. Examples of these books had been found amongst the Dead Sea Scrolls, some of which, like the one Dee had transcribed, were attributed to Enoch. These books described Watchers, angel-like beings that appeared to be living on earth. A small group of these Watchers, or Bene Elohim, Sons of God, saw the fairness of the Daughters of Men. Driven by their ensuing lust, they made a pact to stick together come what may and to take the women as wives. They fathered the original Nephilim, but this group also taught mankind various arts and sciences. Astronomy, cultivation, herbalism, building, creating weapons, the use of make-up and magic, had all been introduced by these people.

Bene ElohimThe Nephilim were said to be blood-drinkers, they ate everything and warred amongst themselves. Eventually the abominable crimes the rebel Watchers and their offspring committed caused the earth to cry out in pain. Enoch had been approached by some of the larger Elohim group and asked to warn the rebel Watchers of their coming punishment. The rebels had begged Enoch to intercede with God on their behalf. Enoch was taken on a journey to see God in Heaven. This Heaven seemed like it was set in a hidden mountain valley, not in some ethereal plane. Unfortunately God"s wrath could not be calmed by anything other than the waters of the Flood.

It was absurd for an ordinary living being to be transformed into something only otherwise born of a s****l union with a mythical being. Kate"s friend Saint Claire had a different understanding of it.

Robert has told me that the union of a human with a higher spiritual being is the culmination of many works described in esoteric literature. He points to a similar union described by the Alchemists, the Chymical Wedding, where both male and female are combined to form a sacred hermaphrodite. This appears to be the final Great Work, where the Philosopher"s Stone or Universal Solvent are just steps along the path; turning the lead of the soul into gold. Consequently he feels the union of angel and human, described in Genesis and Enoch, is just another symbol of a common root process and that the bloody birth of the Nephilim was the destruction of the old being.

Robert has told me that the union of a human with a higher spiritual being is the culmination of many works described in esoteric literature. He points to a similar union described by the Alchemists, the Chymical Wedding, where both male and female are combined to form a sacred hermaphrodite. This appears to be the final Great Work, where the Philosopher"s Stone or Universal Solvent are just steps along the path; turning the lead of the soul into gold. Consequently he feels the union of angel and human, described in Genesis and Enoch, is just another symbol of a common root process and that the bloody birth of the Nephilim was the destruction of the old being.The Gnostics spoke of us all being gods, if only we eschewed the material world and found Gnosis. They believed that we have, trapped within our flesh, shards of the Divine. We only have to recognise this and our imprisonment at the hands of the Creator, and our sorrow in this world of sorrows, is placed in perspective - This appears to be a way of recognising and merging with that shard of the Divine.

The Gnostics spoke of us all being gods, if only we eschewed the material world and found Gnosis. They believed that we have, trapped within our flesh, shards of the Divine. We only have to recognise this and our imprisonment at the hands of the Creator, and our sorrow in this world of sorrows, is placed in perspective - This appears to be a way of recognising and merging with that shard of the Divine.I have also read of Crowley"s ritual, the Knowledge and Conversation with the Holy Guardian Angel, which takes six months and is supposed to be the first step taken into truly becoming a Magus. Crowley"s version has its roots in some of the oldest magic books, such as the Seal of Solomon and The Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage. Since it concerns a literal conversation with an angel and the consequent focusing of this guardian"s power with one"s own Will it certainly sounds like a similar union.