Evil Unearthed: Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The next week passed in a dreamlike monotony for Kathleen, even though it consisted of anything but her usual routine. During the days, she ministered to Stephen and made sure he was following the instructions of both the doctor and the Conjure Woman, and as all things do in this life, his illness slowly passed off, to be replaced by a persistent weakness of limb and tiredness of body which only rest, so Vangie Abbott said, would cure.

As it was, she had ample opportunity to speak with the Conjure Woman, because while she spent her days playing nurse to Stephen, she spent her nights in the secluded cabin, staring at the fire and drinking cup after cup of strong, fragrant tea. Every night just after sunset, she would walk to where she had encountered Vangie's fallen form, and every night, the tall and tattooed Michel would guide her along the secret path till she saw the welcoming curl of smoke from the chimney. Under that roof, she heard strange and terrible confessions, and if she had been frustrated once by the shroud of secrecy that seemed to surround the Desmond family's past on this island, she was now frightened by the depth and magnitude of the things she was now being given to know.

"Why are you telling me all this?" she asked one night.

"Because forewarned is forearmed, as they say. If you find yourself going back to Maljardin, you need to know what you're letting yourself in for."

"Well," said Kathleen, "it just so happens that Julia is coming over here tomorrow. She wants to meet with me."

"Will you be meeting with her alone?"

"I asked Stephen to join us. He's still a little weak, but his appetite's back, so we're all meeting for dinner at the cafe."

"Does she know about him being there?"

"No, actually. I don't know why, but I didn't want her to know."

"That is as it should be. You'll know whether she really is under the influence of Jacques Eloi des Mondes by her reaction to him."

"But I'm not asking him to come as a priest," said Kathleen with surprise.

"No matter what clothing Stephen Dawson wears," said Vangie solemnly, "he cannot escape his calling, and demons will know him for a man of God."

"Well, I still hope you're wrong about all this," said Kathleen, "but you did say that he would lure her with promises of miraculous happenings, and she does have terminal Cancer."

"Exactly, and he will use her vulnerability to his own advantage. Be assured that restoring the mansion is only a first step in his plans!"

"Well, whatever his plans are, I hope to learn more of Julia's plans tomorrow."

"And you will report to me what happens at the meeting?"

"I will," said Kathleen, "if I think there's anything in it."

"That is all I can ask," said Vangie, going over to an altar in the centre of the room. "Now, if you'll permit it, I want to perform a small ritual of protection for you."

"Alright," said Kathleen. "What do I have to do?"

"Just stand beside me and follow my lead."

Kathleen moved to stand beside the Conjure Woman and watched in silence as she lit some tall candles and a small charcoal brazier onto which she sprinkled some sweet-smelling incense. Then, when the candles burned high and bright, Vangie took Kathleen's hand in hers and began to speak.

"Gods of my ancestors, spirits of those who have gone before, Great Serpent of wisdom and power! Give your protection to this woman who will shortly enter the pit of the beast! Let such blessings as can come through me pass to her! Make her strong! Make her steadfast! Help her to know the true path she must walk, and keep her safe from all harm!"

There was a deep silence after these words as Vangie seemed to open herself to the powers she had invoked, and then suddenly Kathleen looked at her face. Indeed, it was difficult for her not to, because from Vangie's young and beautiful face there shone a strange and sorcerous light. At first, she thought that it was just the play of the candle-light on her features, but she soon realized that this was something different, something spiritual. Suddenly, Vangie turned to face her and took her other hand, and Kathleen felt a definite thrill of energy as it passed from the Conjure Woman to herself.

"There," said Vangie after a while, "it's done. I've given you what I can for now," and all at once, all the brightness was gone from her face and Kathleen saw deep fatigue in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" She was alarmed.

"I will be," said Vangie, and she moved slowly to extinguish the candles. "I could use your help in another matter, however."

"Alright," said Kathleen. "Anything I can do I will."

"Good," said Vangie. "Come to the table." Kathleen did so and sat in the chair which the other woman indicated.

"I want to consult the Tarot," said Vangie as she took out the cards, "and I want to see if I can find out what is happening on Maljardin."

"Surely you can do that without me!" Kathleen felt very self-conscious in this woman's presence. Very few people intimidated her, and Vangie was not exactly intimidating in her manner, but the depth of her beliefs in such things as gods and demons made Kathleen feel very much out of her element.

"You are the only person who can help me with this. All I need is for you to lay your hands on the pack and to think of Julia Desmond."

"Well, that shouldn't be too difficult," said Kathleen with a sardonic smile. "I do little else these days."

"Alright then," said Vangie, and she laid the pack between them on the table.

Kathleen moved to put her hands on the cards, and again she felt the thrill of energy as Vangie's hands rested on top of hers for a moment. Then, with no signal exchanged between them, they mutually pulled away and Vangie began to shuffle and cut the cards. There was a fine grace in her movements, and Kathleen could only watch in silent awe until the spread was laid.

"Well," said Vangie, "what do you see?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's all a jumble of images to me," said Kathleen. "I mean, I played around with Tarot cards in university, but I never went deeply into them. I do notice one card though, The King of Wands in the reversed position. According to Matthew Dawson's journal, that represents Jacques."

"Yes, I'm afraid that's the truth."

"And I notice The Fool as well. You said that it represented Matthew Dawson before. Who does it represent now?"

"I'm not entirely certain, but I know that the Nine of Swords is opposed by The Fool, and I think you know what that card means."

"You describe it as the card of death," said Kathleen.

"Yes, and there is a definite connection between the Nine of Swords and the King of Wands."

"But The Fool opposes the card of death?"

"Yes. The Fool is the balance wheel, the thing that may tip the scale in our favour."

"Our favour?"

"Yes, for I see my own card here as well," and she pointed to a card that was labeled The High Priestess. Kathleen saw the image of a beautifully-robed woman sitting between a dark pillar and a light one and holding a partly unrolled scroll in her hands.

"So what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying that if there is a devil on Maljardin to be exorcised, I must be involved in that exorcism. However, I cannot do it alone. The Fool must be present, and so, Kathleen, must you." She pointed to a card which lay between The Fool and The High Priestess. Kathleen saw a woman seated on a throne and holding a drawn sword in her hand.

"She looks rather hard and cruel," said Kathleen. "Is that how you see me?"

"The cards reflect our innermost selves," said Vangie kindly. "I always think of the Queen of Swords as representing loyal and protective women. You, my dear, are definitely that!"

"So where is Julia in all this then?"

"Here," said Vangie, laying a finger on the card to the right of the King of Wands. Kathleen looked and saw the Queen of Wands: a regal-looking woman seated on a throne holding a flowering wand in her hand and with a cat lying at her feet.

"She looks so powerful," said Kathleen.

"She does, and she is the perfect consort for the King. In my experience, many Desmonds have been represented in the Tarot pack by the suit of Wands, but notice the cards above and below her."

Kathleen saw the Ten of Swords overshadowing the Queen of Wands, and below the Queen was the Three of Swords.

"Notice the heart pierced by the three swords," said Vangie. "This usually indicates sudden news of some kind, usually something upsetting, and I don't need to tell you anything about the Ten."

"No," said Kathleen bitterly. "The man lying down with ten swords sticking out of his back is pretty self-explanatory, but does it mean that she has been defeated or that there is the potential to defeat the reversed King?"

"That, as they say, is the question. We won't know that until you meet with her."

"Is there any hope at all?" Kathleen found tears standing in her eyes and tried to fight them back with all her might, but she was soon sobbing in spite of herself, and she was grateful, if embarrassed, when Vangie came and drew her into an embrace.

"Listen to me," she said softly but with great intensity. "There is always reason to hope. Your friend is not lost yet, and I can see now how much you love her. It is love that will win the day, love and strength. So dry your eyes and try to relax. You're not alone in this and neither is Julia."

"I'm sorry about breaking down like that," said Kathleen after a while. "I'm not usually like that."

"We all have our times," said Vangie. "We are all human. Now, do you think you will sleep?"

"I am very tired," said Kathleen.

"Then go into my bedroom. Sleep is out of the question for me tonight."

"Thanks, Vangie. Thanks a lot!"

Kathleen's sleep was deep and without interruption, and when she woke, she felt refreshed and ready for whatever the day would bring. She left the cabin in the company of Vangie herself, who guided her surely and swiftly along the path.

"Be safe, Kathleen," said the Conjure Woman as they parted.

"I'll do my best," said Kathleen, and she left the shelter of the screening vines and walked through the early morning sunshine to the hotel.

The day was filled with activity, but it was of the minutest kind. Since Stephen was largely well, her nursing duties were only cursory, but she felt that she should prepare some kind of report for Julia on all of her historical researches. Still, even though she had plenty of tasks to occupy her mind, she kept stopping in the midst of what she was doing and thinking. She thought back again and again to the short phone conversation she had held with Julia yesterday.

"Kat," Julia had said as though they were back at Cambridge and she needed help with a term-paper, "I wonder if you might be able to meet with me tomorrow?"

"Of course I can," had been her enthusiastic reply. "I have lots to tell you and lots of plans for the interior decoration of the house!"

"Good. I'll come over to the main island and we can meet at the cafe for dinner."

"Julia," Kathleen had asked just before they hung up, "are you alright over there? It's just that I've heard things."

"You mean Bill Temple? Oh Kathleen! You can't believe in all the things his workers told him. These islanders are just full of ancient stories and legends, and as for him, well, we had a disagreement. He'd say anything to put you out of favour with me."

"As it was, he was concerned about you. He's dead, you know."

"Well," Julia had said in a strangely glib way, "death does come to us all in our time. Anyway, be down in the cafe at six o'clock tomorrow evening. Alright?"

"Alright," Kathleen had said, and they had ended the call with a few casual words of farewell.

It was only now, when she was sitting in her room and supposed to be focused on preparing a slideshow of vintage furnishings and other household accessories to show to Julia at dinner, that she recalled the offhand way in which Julia had seemed to take the news of Bill Temple's death. It was almost as though she had already known about it, or worse, as though she had no emotion about it whatever. While it was true that Julia could occasionally be very self-involved, she was not without a sense of empathy, and would usually have taken news like that with at least a modicum of solemnity. Then there was the way she had almost meekly asked for the meeting. Kathleen had thought at the time that Julia was trying to find a way to ask for help, but as the call had progressed, it had seemed as though she was being summoned for an audience with some noble or royal personage rather than for a meeting with a long-time friend and colleague.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door, and when she opened it, she found Stephen waiting for her.

"It's almost time," he said.

"I know," she said with a sigh. "I haven't finished my work, but she'll just have to deal with it. Just let me go and freshen up a bit, and then we'll be off."

As she put her makeup on, Kathleen looked at herself in the mirror. She realized that she was looking slightly the worse for wear, and she fell to thinking of what Julia might look like when she saw her tonight. Bill had described a woman who went without sleep and was driven by some unknown obsession, and now she couldn't help thinking of all the horror stories she had ever read in which eccentric and intelligent people trafficked with demons and monsters from other dimensions. They always seemed to end up in mad-houses or in states of physical and mental exhaustion. She wondered if Julia would present such a picture of gaunt and staring frenzy: her hair dishevelled, her eyes bloodshot and over-bright, her body emaciated and her cheeks hollow. So, it was with great surprise and a palpable sense of relief that she saw her friend twenty minutes later come striding across the dining-room of the cafe looking very much as she did when she had first arrived.

"It really is like a royal procession," Stephen remarked quietly, as the waiters jumped to fulfill Julia's every need.

"Yes," said Kathleen, "and she usually hates it, but look at her now!"

She looked again at Julia, and for the first time noticed her manner of dress. It seemed wildly inappropriate for a business-meeting. She wore a flowing gown of deepest blue, and around her shoulders was a velvet cape trimmed with sable. Kathleen didn't understand this in the least, but as Julia came closer, she found it difficult not to scream, for around Julia's neck was a locket, the very locket which had once belonged to Erica Desmond and which was stained with what looked like blood.

"Why Kathleen!" said Julia breezily. "You look as though you've seen a ghost! And who is this?"

"You remember Stephen Dawson, don't you?" Kathleen fell back on pleasantries, though her mind was reeling with all that she was seeing.

"Ah yes," said Julia. "Hello, Mr. Dawson!"

"Hello, Miss Desmond," said Stephen, and Kathleen noticed his adoring gaze drawn again and again to Julia's flowing hair and bright, blue eyes. "Kathleen invited me to meet with you as I've been helping her out with her research."

"Ah," said Julia. "How nice!" Kathleen noticed that though she seemed to be all smiles, there was a barely-controlled fury brewing in the depths of her eyes when she looked at Stephen, and she thought back on what the Conjure Woman had said the night before.

"No matter what clothing Stephen Dawson wears, he cannot escape his calling, and demons will know him for a man of God."

Did she know then? Kathleen hoped not, but as dinner was ordered and Julia raised her glass for a toast, her fears were renewed.

"My friends," said Julia with a flourish, "I give you William Temple, and the man who attended him in his last moments," and here, she looked at Stephen with undisguised malice for a moment, as she clinked glasses with Kathleen with a friendly air.

"Now," she said after a pause, "let's get down to business. Show me your plans, Kathleen!"

Kathleen passed her laptop across the table and sat quietly as Julia clicked through the images in her slideshow.

"Well," said Julia, "you seem to have a flare for this work. I wanted to see your work before I made my decision, but this small sample has convinced me. I'd like you to come back with me to Maljardin and help me rebuild my family's ancestral home!"

"But Julia," she said, "that's just it. Before, you wanted nothing to do with your family's past on Maljardin. You wanted this island specifically for the profit it could turn for you as a resort. Are you telling me you've abandoned all that?"

"What can I say? Blood calls to blood sometimes, and I'm tired of the city life. I want to restore the chateau and to live in it."

"Is it true that you've been having round-the-clock shifts working over there?"

"Oh yes," said Julia. "We're working like fiends!"

Kathleen couldn't help noticing her choice of words, and by a secretive look which he gave her, she knew that Stephen had noticed it as well.

"Miss Desmond," he said now, "I must say that you have treated Miss O'Dell with something less than respect during the past weeks."

"I know, Mr. Dawson," said Julia, "and for that I'm truly sorry. It was necessary for me to take over the project for a while, but now that Kathleen and I are on the same page again, I find that I need her expertise."

"If I go with you," said Kathleen, "will you be completely honest with me? Will you keep me in the loop about what you're doing?"

"Of course I will," said Julia. "You and I will be as thick as thieves, my dear."

"Well," said Kathleen, "give me a while to think about it then!"

"Well, it just so happens that I have a few supplies to pick up in town before the stores close," said Julia. "So, I'll go and do that and meet you here when I'm finished. Feel free to order anything you like for dessert, both of you. It's on my account."

Kathleen watched her walk away and noticed Stephen's eyes following her.

"Well?" she said, when the coffee had come.

"Well," he echoed. "This was a strange meeting to say the least!"

"She's definitely not herself," Kathleen agreed, "and what did you make of that toast she gave?"

"She'd have no way of knowing that I had given Bill the last rites," said Stephen, "but she looked at me as though I had personally offended her."

"Never mind about the last rites," said Kathleen. "She had no way of knowing you're a priest! Oh, something's really wrong over there, and that's why I have to go."

"Are you crazy?" Stephen looked angrily at her. "You've seen her behaviour! There's no telling what she might do or what turn her mood might take! I don't trust her."

"I don't trust her either," said Kathleen, "but I know that my friend Julia is still in there somewhere, and now that I've seen her, I know that I couldn't stand letting her leave here without going with her."

"Well," said Stephen, "if you have to go, I guess I can't stop you."

"Don't worry," said Kathleen, giving him a winning smile. "The Conjure Woman couldn't stop me either, but she's told me a lot of things about Maljardin and the evil presence there over the past week, and I know there must be a way for me to get through to Julia."

"But you say that she would rather you didn't go to the island, right?"

"Right, but she feels that I'm involved in whatever's coming, and besides, I can't pass up this opportunity. There is one thing though. Could you report what went on at this meeting to her? She asked me to do it, but if Julia leaves tonight, I'll have to go with her."

"Well, I can see that you're set on this," said Stephen resignedly, "so I want you to take this." He handed her a small, gold cross on a chain and wouldn't take his eyes off her until she put it around her neck. "It belonged to my uncle and it may help you. It's some kind of link to the Conjure Woman."

"Stephen," said Kathleen, the chain and cross reminding her, "did you notice the locket that Julia is wearing?"

"I did," said Stephen. "It belonged to Erica Desmond, didn't it? Uncle Matt mentioned it."

"That's right," said Julia, appearing at the table again. "It was given to her by my father. I thought it fitting that I should wear it as an heirloom."

"A strange choice to make, given its gruesome history," said Stephen.

"Well," said Julia, "gruesome is as gruesome does. This was given as a symbol of undying love. I prefer to think of it that way. Now, Kathleen, if you're coming, you'd better go and pack. You'll not be coming back to the hotel any time soon."

"Alright," said Kathleen. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Back in her room, she busied herself with folding clothes and packing belongings, but when all was finished, she found herself shaking and uncertain.

"I don't know if I can do this," she said to her reflection. "Everything seemed so different this morning!" She touched the cross at her throat, and into her mind came words of reassurance spoken in Vangie's unmistakable voice.

"All is not lost, Kathleen. Your heart will lead you rightly if you listen to it, and remember, I am not far away."

"Alright," she said aloud. "Alright. I'm going," and without a backward glance, she picked up her bags and left.