“Oh yes.”
Marc nodded and continued to explore until Malice said, “We need to find certain items, then go back to the workroom. I will bring you in here again.”
Malice went to one of the cabinets and withdrew two small glass vials filled with brown powder. Corks were in the tops. They left the room and Malice locked it, saying, “You will soon have your own key.”
They worked for the next two days preparing each series in the process, and on the third day, Malice had Ringo sit in a chair as she began the procedure.
Some of it was having the boy take potions in proper order, while the rest was preparing the room with drawings and symbols.
At the end of the day, Ringo lay down by himself in the center of the drawings on the floor and slept. Malice said, “That is good progress. This boy is strong, physically and spiritually.”
“What will we do tomorrow?”
“You will start tonight. I will give you instructions. In the morning we will begin first with blood.”
The next day dawned with Marc finishing his night’s work. He brought a ladder into the workroom to view his efforts from above to make certain it was correct.
Ringo had not moved during the night, but all the symbols and designs were different. Marc erased them during the night and drew new ones according Malice’s orders. The only portion of the old design that was left intact was under Ringo’s body. It was the center of the crossroads. Marc extended the crossed lines away from the sleeping boy and added the intricate designs and symbols until they covered the floor from wall to wall.
He brought in the kid goats next, and tethered them to a table leg. Both were only a few days old, and didn’t fight the ropes, only tugged against them occasionally as they played with each other.
Malice entered the room dressed in long, flowing scarlet robes. Her face was marked with lines and dots of white paint, except for the eye sockets, which were painted black. Two long, red goat horns were attached to her head. Marc sat in the corner as she began chanting and casting small amounts of powders and ground plants as she walked in a circle around Ringo’s body. After the third time, she told Marc to remove Ringo’s clothes. He did, then returned to the corner.
Malice continued to chant and dance, moving to Ringo and using her finger to paint red and black designs on his body. It continued for an hour, then she switched jars and painted a single white stripe from his forehead down to each foot.
The goats lay still, watching, and she caught up one, took off the tether, and chanted as she carried it while circling the boy. One the completion of the third circle, she cut the kid’s throat and let the blood rain down on Ringo. When the goat bled out, she put it down and repeated the ritual with the second kid.
Blood covered Ringo’s body. Malice chanted again, and this time used smooth twigs to dip into jars on the counter and, one at a time, she slipped the twig into Ringo’s mouth, rolling the twig so the potions stayed in him.
When she finished two hours later, she motioned for Marc to follow her, and closed and locked the door with Ringo inside, still on the floor. She said, “Tonight will be the telling of it. He may rant and scream, but in the morning we will know if he has returned.” Sh
e touched Marc’s arm, “That does not mean he will be like he was as a normal one, but that he might be functional, and maybe even almost normal.”
“I understand.”
“I am going to rest now.” Malice said.
Marc decided to stay by the door and sat down with his back against it. He fell asleep in minutes.
Early the next morning, Malice woke him. Marc rubbed his eyes and stood as she put in the key and opened the door.
Ringo stood in the center of the room, touching his chest and stomach. He said, “I feel sticky.”
Malice said, “Other than sticky, how do you feel?”
“Good. I am hungry, though.”
She said to Marc, “Take him to the showers and let him wash it all away. Bring him to eat afterward and we will talk about what is next.”
Marc said “What do you think about him?”
Malice smiled, “He has a good chance. Better than I would have hoped.”
For the next month, Marc worked with Ringo to improve his ability to think and talk. Malice gave him potions she mixed, and although he improved, there was never a time that she felt he was exactly like other people.
She saw him at night, standing outside for hours without moving. It was the same in the home. He preferred to stand rather than sit, but would if Marc or Malice told him to. He ate well, and it did not matter what was served.
It was his stillness that unnerved her the most.