The Shadow of Reichenbach Falls by John R. King

to fashion skvias, or twelve-foot-long lightning rods. With these implements, they made sacrifices to the thunder bearer. Priests conducted a prisoner to a mountain peak, required him to lie supine with legs and hands spread, and then chained his ankles, wrists, and neck to the skvias, which were pounded into the ground in the shape of a five-pointed star. If the prisoner could escape before a storm came, he was considered pardoned by Thor. If, instead, a storm came and struck him dead, he was considered a sacrifice. If the prisoner
was struck and lived, the priests considered him a wizard—his mortal soul driven out of his body, and a divine soul driven in. A few such wizards became priests in the service of Thor, though most became necromancers in the service of Loki.

    I was on the verge of discovery. The electric pentacle had some arcane power to drive out one’s spirit or to drive in the spirit of another. Seeking the final piece of the puzzle, I consulted a book of Celtic mysticism, which described the major arcana of the tarot cards:

    The pentacle, or five-pointed star, is a symbol of earth in its perfect form, either the lost earth of Eden or the restored earth of the end of times. The five points of the pentacle represent the five powers of good: Lugh’s spear of living fire, Mannon’s magic ship, Conory Mor’s singing sword, Cuchulain’s speaking sword, and the stone of destiny, Lia Fail. Human beings may claim any or all of these symbols of hope and light in order to justly rule the world. When the star card is laid in its dignified position, it symbolizes protection from evil, divine help, and new birth.

    And then, later:

    The inverted pentacle, or the devil, is a reversal of the natural power and beauty of the earth. It is an inversion, a perversion, bringing an end to hope and life. Instead of claiming the divine power of good, the querent receives the destructive power of evil. Instead of protection, this card offers plunder. Instead of new birth, it offers demonic possession.

    A chill crept up my neck. I remembered Silence’s soul driven up from his body, his demon-charged fingers gripping
my throat … I stared at the pentacle of protection and the inverted pentacle of destruction, and glimpsed another world. It overlaid the world of science; it churned up the phenomenological world like invisible winds churning up the sea. My body tingled. Every hair stood on end. I felt a queer, uncanny urge to flee.
    Then a hand touched my shoulder. I leaped and spun around.
    “Anna!” There she was: the same doe eyes and rosebud lips, the same blond braids arrayed in a heart shape around her head—and yet, she was different. In place of the white blouse and blue skirt, she wore a black dress with a high neckline—even a white bonnet. She looked like an old woman. I laughed harshly. “You’ve changed.”
    She glanced down at herself and blushed. “These aren’t mine.”
    “Stole them from a line, did we? Not a very good thief—”
    “I didn’t steal them. I’m not a thief.”
    “No, you’re worse. You’re working with the gunman. He’s your … your father.” It was sheer speculation, but the sad steadiness of her eyes confirmed it. “You were planning a double murder, weren’t you? While Daddy flings a man from the waterfall above, Daughter drowns another in the cauldron below!”
    Anna’s face grew red. “I don’t know why I even came here.” She strode off down the dark row of stacks.
    “I know why,” I said, picking up the generator and following her. “You came to play me. That’s what you’ve been doing all along—all that helpless act, all that mourning for a father who didn’t die five years ago, who’s been hunting us for the past week. ‘Let me stay,’ she says. ‘Let me buy you time,’ she says, when really she’s plotting with the killer. From the beginning—from before the beginning—you’ve been playing
me …” I grabbed her arm and turned her about to face