The more
Satori practises the more he realises that he has gone beyond what Paul can
teach. Paul’s books, however - opening them, absorbing their musty pages and
archaic language, he can smell power. Energy lifts from each paragraph and
crackles in the air around him. He doubts their owner has read even a tenth of
them. The secrets they hold: power beyond reckoning. He will learn how to
defeat Lilith, he is certain of it. But how long will it take? Will I run
out of time? He could spend an entire lifetime in these books and still
leave some pages unturned.
The room
has settled again. His eyes are ready to focus once more. Instantly, Satori
forgets the idea of coffee and returns to the book on his lap. He sits
cross-legged on the floor. His eyes pore over the words. A noise behind him
makes him jump.
‘Paul,
you scared me.’
‘Sorry
Satori. I brought you some water and I’ve made lunch. Would you like to eat?’
Satori
shakes his head. ‘Your library is amazing, but I can’t find the answers I need.
These books just don’t cover battling anything as powerful as Lilith.’
‘Well
think about it, Satori. What is Lilith? If it’s a demon then it’s as powerful
as Asmodeus or Satan. But the Kabbalists call it a god. I’m not sure we’ll ever
find the answer,’ Paul says. ‘You might as well rest for a while. I’m worried
you’ll burn out.’
‘There is
always an answer. We just need help. Maybe to fight a god you need a god. But
who? One of the old pre-Christian ones? Do you really have no ideas?’
‘I have
one.’ Paul walks across the room to a black lacquer cabinet. Taking a key from
a chain around his neck, he unlocks the door. On a shelf at chest height Satori
sees something covered with black linen. Paul beckons him over. Even covered,
Satori can feel the object’s power. It frightens him.
‘What is
it?’ he whispers.
Paul
pulls the material away and Satori faces a clay head. Glyphs are carved across
the forehead, cheeks and on either side of the chin. The eye sockets are filled
with obsidian and the mouth, opened in an eternal scream, is stuffed with red
clay.
Satori
lifts his hand towards it.
‘Careful,’
Paul says.
‘What is
it?’ Satori asks. ‘It feels … powerful.’
‘It’s a
vessel of Balon,’ Paul answers, staring at the head. ‘And if you break the
seal, the demons inside it will tear me apart. It’s an oracle of sorts. If I
ask it a question it has to tell me the truth.’
‘Ask it
about Lilith,’ Satori says.
‘What precisely
do you want me to ask?’
‘Can I
destroy her?’
Paul
lifts the head and sets it on a low table. He pauses then turns it a few
degrees anti-clockwise. His movements are gentle and full of reverence. A
thread of sweat trickles down his brow as he concentrates. ‘Vessel of Balon, I
have fashioned you with my Art. I have given you life. Now answer in truth. If
the sorcerer Satori battles Lilith, can he destroy the demon?’
The room
is silent. The glyphs on the head glow red. Its obsidian eyes shine as if lit
by an internal fire. Satori’s ears strain to hear the answer. Holding his
breath, he watches the head. Every hair on his body stands on end. In spite of
his fascination and desire for knowledge, his body tells him to run from the
room and never return. A trio of cold, powerful voices echo each other. ‘No.’
Praise for Starblood
“In a market flooded with badly written
supernatural romances passed off as horror, Carmilla Voiez is a prophet of the
uncanny. Not since Clive Barker has any author mastered pure, visceral
atrocity, and yet her characters maintain an elegance and humanity that turns
what could just be a blood sport into a Shakespearean tragedy. Starblood may be
the only true female horror novel in existence, and within its pages a reader
is forced at knifepoint to see the world through the eyes of the raped, the
abused, and the unloved with hateful clarity. She makes us bear witness to the
demons we ourselves create. You don't read her books. You survive them.
” Jef Withonef, Houston Press.
Praise for Psychonaut
"Carmilla Voiez is more of a singer
than a writer. She tells her compelling story in a hypnotic, distinctive voice
that brings her eerie world vividly to life." Graham Masterton
“Psychonaut is a book of mad impulses, inner vision, sadism, escape and belief.
You feel uncomfortable reading it, like Alex strapped to the chair in Clockwork
Orange being taught to feel sick at atrocity. Rather than leave us crippled by
response, though, Psychonaut bears you through the hurt towards the only
paradise we can be assured of...a love past fault.” Jef Withonef, Houston
Press.
Praise for Black Sun
“This is the concluding novel in the
Starblood trilogy. Satori has brought Star back to the physical world, and the
second novel, Psychonaut, could well have ended on that happy note, but as we
know by now, Carmilla Voiez doesn't do clichés. Satori and Star have not
returned alone: insidious influences from both the astral plane and the physical
world intermingle in a web of deceit and betrayal of Wagnerian complexity. Even
that which is not what it seems is not what it seems.
If you are a horror fan, the Starblood Trilogy has everything to recommend it.
If you are not, you will enjoy having your comfort zone challenged - I
certainly did.” J.R.B.
