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refused to sell me a second dose. I have been visiting some very awful places in
order to obtain it.”

“You'll stop today.”

“I'm afraid even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I'm gripped by the N’ariq. I am
its servant, its vessel. It will show me the way of the gate of the outward
sanctuary which looketh toward the arch.”

“Babbo, that's just words. That doesn't mean anything.”

“I thought so too, once. But soon I'll be with N’ariq. When it calls me, I
obey. Forgive me, my Gemma, I meant only to help you. But now I belong to
someone else.”

“No, Babbo.”

“Forgive me, Forgive me.”

Babbo was incorrect about his health, as you suspected. The N’ariq was
not keeping him healthy. He had fevers every third day, and strange, horrible
fainting spells which Gemma feared were visitations from death itself. She
would carry his delicate body back to the the bed and ply him with blankets
and prayers, sitting by his side to make sure he would take no more N’ariq.
Oh, but he was sly! He waited until Gemma fell asleep, whether it be after
hours of vigil, or entire days, eventually she would fall asleep, and when she
awoke, she would find him in the next room, some pieces of furniture missing
(sold) and him rocking back and forth, his eyes turned all glass-red.

Then every day after, she hoped he would be penitent and continue
confessing his sins all over again, begging for forgiveness. “I can only hope this
final penance cleanses me of whatever wrongs I committed, to cause such
horrid wrath to descend upon me and my family.” She tried to extract
promises from him to exorcize himself of the N’ariq, but he merely trebled his

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