Page 75 of The Exorcism of Faeries

so are they driven away;

as wax melts before the flame,

so the wicked perish;

gone in light of day?—”

She felt the woman arch her back and Atta opened her eyes. The Inhabited patient was nearly floating off the bed, arms splayed at her sides, her mouth set in a silent, horrible scream Atta could feel in the marrow of her bones. “Light a smudge stick,” she whispered.

“Keep going,” Sonder urged, doing as she instructed him.

Atta moved her hands to the woman’s chest, keeping her pinned to the mattress.

“We drive you from this place,

whatever you may be,

unclean sprite,

all the wicked Fae,

all infernal invaders,

all to leave this day.”

She heard Sonder gasp and her eyes flew open again, just as the woman dropped back down to the bed with a thud, limp as a corpse. There was a terrible screech, so loud and vicious Atta had to cover her ears. Sonder stood eerily still, his eyes wide, but appearing unaffected by the sound. At some point, he’d removed his mask as well, and his face was locked in horror and astonishment. Trembling, she followed his line of sight.

Her hands dropped to her sides as she took in the scene.

The Inhabited woman was leaking black blood from her nose, her eyes, and from her mouth crawled a being. Small, no larger than Atta’s palm. Devoid of flesh, made up of bone and gossamer wings, it clawed its way over the woman’s lips, its bones clacking against her teeth.

“Palo Santo,” Atta whispered, afraid to move, for the creature had its sightless eye sockets trained on her, head cocked to one side.

She heard Sonder strike a match behind her. Smelt the citrus and smoke. Then he was pressing something burning into her hand. The creature—the faerie, she realised with a roiling in her gut—rose unsteadily to its feet upon the woman’s breast, on her nightgown soaked through with sweat. Its wet wings unfurled, trembled like a moth drenched in water.

In one swift movement, Atta lifted the burning Palo Santo stick in front of the creature. It screamed and thrashed. The stick was burning fast, too fast.

“Trap it!” she screamed at Sonder, but he was already there, a carved-out lantern in hand they’d brought for this very hope, as small as it had been when they prepared it.

The creature clawed at the woman, its sharp talon fingers slicing her abdomen open, but the blood was red. Beautiful, glorious, crimson red as it spurted on Atta. She jumped onto the bed, swinging the palo santo stick, connecting with the faerie’s back, sending it flying into the lantern. Sonder closed and locked the door, the creature hissing and flailing in the black salt at the floor of the lantern—its cage.

“Will it hold?” Sonder urged, sweat trickling down his temple.

“I don’t know!”

She hadn’t thought any of it would work, not in truth. She’d thought they would fail. Be back at the manor licking their wounds. Now they’d trapped a goddamn faerie that crawled out of a woman’s throat.

Sonder thrust the lantern in her hand. “You can do this.” Then he was dashing toward the bed, throwing off his coat and rolling up his sleeves so quickly he popped the buttons off his cuffs. They bounced across the floor toward her feet and Atta just stood there, thinking how strange that the two buttons were all she could see.

She didn’t understand what was happening, the chaos paralysing her. But then she saw the woman convulsing, Sonder using all his medical training to save her. He was talking to her, pulling her toward him to lay on her side as she vomited black bile all over the bed, the floor.

The lantern, too pretty to hold such a monster, swayed in Atta’s hand, pulling her out of her stupor. The thing—the faerie—was clawing its way up the side of the glass toward the vents in the ornate roof. It hissed and bared its sharp teeth and Atta stepped back, but she was still the one holding the lantern, so the creature came with her. Then it started to flicker, the entire creature. It began to smoke, turn into some sort of vapour.

Atta gasped, fumbling for the black salt in her pocket, managing only a dusting in her grasp, but it was enough. She threw it through the vents onto the faerie and it went solid again. Atta dropped to her knees, rifling through the bag they’d brought, pulling out the binding rope. She wasn’t sure it would work, but her research had led her to this moment, and she had to try.

Working as quickly as her shaking fingers could manage, she set to tying a Celtic knot around the cage, across the latch. She could hear Sonder talking to someone urgently, then the slam of a phone down on the receiver.

“Hurry, Atta. We need to be out of here before the medics arrive.”

---