The Lost Symbol

Andros now lowered the knife and carefully pierced the large vein on the right wing of the panicked bird. The crow began to bleed. As he watched the stream of red liquid flowing down into the metal cup he had placed as a receptacle, he felt an unexpected chill in the air. Nonetheless, he continued.

«Almighty Adonai, Arathron, Ashai, Elohim, Elohi, Elion, Asher Eheieh, Shaddai. . be my aid, so that this blood may have power and efficacy in all wherein I shall wish, and in all that I shall demand.»

That night, he dreamed of birds. . of a giant phoenix rising from a billowing fire. The next morning, he awoke with an energy he had not felt since childhood. He went running in the park, faster and farther than he’d imagined possible. When he could run no longer, he stopped to do pushups and sit-ups. Countless repetitions. Still he had energy.

That night, again, he dreamed of the phoenix.

Autumn had fallen again on Central Park, and the wildlife were scurrying about searching for food for winter. Andros despised the cold, and yet his carefully hidden traps were now overflowing with live rats and squirrels. He took them home in his backpack, performing rituals of increasing complexity.

Emanual, Massiach, Yod, He, Vaud. . please find me worthy.

The blood rituals fueled his vitality. Andros felt younger every day. He continued to read day and night — ancient mystical texts, epic medieval poems, the early philosophers — and the more he learned about the true nature of things, the more he realized that all hope for mankind was lost. They are blind. . wandering aimlessly in a world they will never understand.

Andros was still a man, but he sensed he was evolving into something else. Something greater. Something sacred. His massive physique had emerged from dormancy, more powerful now than ever before. He finally understood its true purpose. My body is but a vessel for my most potent treasure. . my mind.

Andros knew his true potential had not yet been realized, and he delved deeper. What is my destiny?

All the ancient texts spoke of good and evil. . and of man’s need to choose between them. I made my choice long ago, he knew, and yet he felt no remorse. What is evil, if not a natural law? Darkness followed light. Chaos followed order. Entropy was fundamental. Everything decayed. The perfectly ordered crystal eventually turned into random particles of dust.

There are those who create. . and those who destroy.

It was not until Andros read John Milton’s Paradise Lost that he saw his destiny materialize before him. He read of the great fallen angel. . the warrior demon who fought against the light. . the valiant one. . the angel called Moloch.

Moloch walked the earth as a god

. The angel’s name, Andros later learned, when translated to the ancient tongue, became Mal’akh.

And so shall I.

Like all great transformations, this one had to begin with a sacrifice. . but not of rats, nor birds. No, this transformation required a true sacrifice.

There is but one worthy sacrifice.

Suddenly he had a sense of clarity unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life. His entire destiny had materialized. For three straight days he sketched on an enormous sheet of paper. When he was done, he had created a blueprint of what he would become.

He hung the life-size sketch on his wall and gazed into it as if into a mirror.

I am a masterpiece.

The next day, he took his drawing to the tattoo parlor.

He was ready.

CHAPTER 78

The George Washington masonic memorial stands atop shuter’s hill in alexandria, virginia. built in three distinct tiers of increasing architectural complexity from bottom to top — doric, ionic, and corinthian — the structure stands as a physical symbol of man’s intellectual ascent. inspired by the ancient pharos lighthouse of alexandria, egypt, this soaring tower is capped by an egyptian pyramid with a flamelike finial.