Chapter 2

Arriving back at his bed-sit George took some time to put away his clean clothes before making a pot of tea and sitting at the table to examine his purchase. The largest volume was at least two foot square and about four inches thick. George went to open the large book and found the cover and pages seemed to be stuck together and wouldn’t open.

The second book was also about two foot square but only two inches thick, to Georges frustration this one also seemed to be bonded closed. Feeling very foolish George guessed he had been conned by the workmen, these were obviously fake books for some purpose and he had parted with most of his money to buy them.

Finally he picked up the final book, this was quite a bit smaller than the others. At about eighteen inches by twelve inches and about two inches thick it was still a substantial volume. George half expected this book to be sealed as well but too his delight it opened and he found himself looking at a diary written in quite an ornate hand. The first entry was dated 13 October 1653, George was shocked if this was a genuine diary from the Seventeenth Century it would give an incredible insight into how people lived back then. Wondering how long a period the book covered he flipped through to the last page in the book, to his surprise it was dated 13 April 1967.

George sat thinking for a moment. The handwriting at the beginning and end of the book looked to be the same person but over three hundred years later. This had to be someone’s idea of a bad joke, he could imagine how they were laughing at the idiot who had paid a fiver for two fake books and a made up journal. Shrugging his shoulders George decided he might as well read the thing now that he had bought it.

13 October 1657.

Greetings reader, my name is Eva, I am the latest chosen of the Goddess. At last I have finished translating the ritual for summoning the goddess. It has taken me two years since I first discovered the book to get this far. It has occurred to me that it will save whoever comes after me some considerable time if I keep a diary of my work on the book. I also intend to copy out a full translation, except for the glyphs, they can’t be copied without activating them. So you who are reading this must be my successor, you probably wonder why you can’t open the other books you have found. I protected them with a glyph, when you have finished reading this page you will be able to open the books. Unfortunately the way the goddess works that will do you little good to start with. Apart from the first page which details the ritual I have just translated the other pages are blank. I believe that when I complete the ritual I will have access to the other pages, we will see.

George couldn’t resist checking the other books, to his delight they now opened. The larger book had on it’s first page an unintelligible scrawl and a complicated pattern resembling a Celtic knot that he assumed was the glyph. The other book had what appeared to be a neatly written translation of the other book. As he had been told from the diary George found all the other pages to be blank.

“OK so there might be something to this after all, it’s weird but still. I think I need to read the rest of the journal first and see what I am letting myself in for here.” George spoke aloud to his empty room.

21 October 1657. I am despoiled, lower than the snake that crawls on it’s belly. The ritual called for the four fluids of a woman, her spit, her blood, and both those from betwixt her legs. I have debased myself to collect one of the latter, Goddess I hope you can forgive for I cannot.

This woman has some serious hang-ups George thought.

28 October 1657. Goddess forgive me I have sunk even lower. The ritual also called for the four fluids of the male. To acquire these fluids I tempted a hungry vagabond into my house, after he was fed I led him to believe I desired him. To my everlasting shame I put my lips to his foul staff. After I had collected those fluids he slept, he awoke to find himself tied to my bed and a knife to his throat.Surprisingly the foul creature offered up his urine without me even having to ask. At my request he even donated some of his spittle, I know I didn’t ask him to project it onto my face but at least I was able to collect some of it. His blood I collected when I cut his throat. It has taken me all of the rest of the day to clean up the mess the obnoxious creature made, tomorrow I will have to rid myself of his carcass, in the meantime he resides in my cellar.