Evil Unearthed: Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-one

Stephen parted with Barrett at the door of his room and, grateful to have the house-blessing over and done with, rapidly changed out of his robes and into something more pedestrian. He intended to sleep long and well tonight, no matter what oddities happened around here. Also, he privately thought at the back of his mind, it would allow him to escape into dreams for a while. Lately, they had been sweet and sensual, entirely filled with the voice and face of the Conjure Woman, and while it was his duty as a priest to keep a guard over his mind and his heart, he found himself unable to do this where Vangie was concerned, and, moreover, utterly unable to care about this lapse on his part. He wondered why this was, but he found it curious that his dreams were in no way lustful. In fact, apart from embraces and kisses, there was no sexual content in them, and yet upon waking, he always felt as though they had exchanged something, had participated in some sacred and secret communion. He wondered if Vangie was having similar dreams, but he knew that he could never ask her that question. It would be too embarrassing. All he wanted to do now, though, was fall into one of those dreams again. So, after saying a rosary or two, he climbed into the well-appointed bed and promptly fell asleep.

The dream began as they had all done over the past few days. Stephen stood in Vangie's cabin and it was night. A fire burned merrily on the hearth, and Vangie herself was seated on her usual low stool. It was as though Stephen had just entered, for he stood near the door and waited. Vangie then beckoned him forward, and at that signal, he came closer to her and knelt beside her.

"You're here," she said, and there was deep satisfaction in her voice. "I've waited for you for so long!"

"I know, My Lady," Stephen said, "but I'm here now."

"Indeed you are," said Vangie, only now there was a strange and hungry note in her voice, and when she had risen and taken him into the embrace which always happened at this point in these dreams, there was a roughness to it that he did not like. Silently, she conducted him to her bedroom, and with no words exchanged between them, she made him take off his clothes while she did the same. Only now, where Vangie had been there was a woman that he did not know. She was a little like Julia, and indeed he thought he had seen her somewhere before, and now he remembered. The blood-stained locket was a dead giveaway. This was Erica Desmond. But how could she be here? What had happened to Vangie?

"I'm sorry," said Erica now, "that I had to trick you like that, but your affection for our dear Miss Abbott was so evident that I could not ignore it."

"But this is a dream," he said.

"If you like," was all her answer, and she looked deeply into his eyes.

He felt himself drawn by her gaze, and before he could stop himself, he found that he was in bed with her, and what was worse, he found that he was enjoying her presence. They lay together and she began to whisper endearments into his ear, and then he knew that she was not talking to him, for his mind had become untethered from his body, and what was in control of him now was something else, something other, and then, as he seemed to observe the scene between himself and Erica from a great height, he heard her pronounce a name which would have made his blood run cold, if raw intellect or soul or spirit or whatever he was now had blood, of course.

"My darling Jacques," she said. "I have waited to be with you like this for so long!"

"Come now, dearest love!" he heard his own voice saying. "Let us be merry while we have the chance! This one won't let me stay here forever."

"You've got that right," Stephen tried to say, but it was as though he had no voice and was a being made up of pure thought. Again and again, he tried to approach his body, but he was repelled by some unnamable force each time, and he felt himself growing weaker with each attempt.

Suddenly, Jacques took Erica in his arms, and he was forced to watch in silence as they made love, if you could call it love. There was something raw and animalistic in it. Even despite her strength, it was almost as though Jacques were raping her, and as though she were letting him do it. Again and again he thrust himself into her, and again and again she allowed it, though on one level, Stephen knew, she was being overpowered by him. Still, when all was over, they again professed their undying love for one another, and Stephen suddenly found himself floating toward his body and falling into it. Sitting up, he looked around, getting his bearings, and he realized that Erica was gone. He had not seen her go, but she was gone, and just as he thought that this was one of the strange twists that a dream can take, he looked around him more carefully. He was no longer in the cabin of the Conjure Woman, but in a palatial bedroom with tapestries hung upon the walls and torches mounted in brackets. He knew that this had to be a dream, but he also did not want to remain here anymore, so he got up and walked out the door.

The corridor was in darkness, but as his eyes grew accustomed to it, he found himself disoriented again, because he knew that corridor for the one in which his own room lay. Instantly, he knew what he had to do. He had to see Vangie, no matter how late it was and no matter how tired they both would be the next day. He didn't know now if he slept or waked, and only she could help him now. Only her honest presence could clear away the fog of this fantastic dream. So, without further deliberation, he walked to her door and was about to knock when it opened. There, solid and real, was the Conjure Woman, looking as though she had not slept at all but seeming strong and steadfast to him after his strange and unsettling experience.

"Come in," she said, and he did so without a word, closing the door softly behind him.

"You look as though you've just escaped from the lions' den," she said. "What happened?"

"A dream," he said. "A dream to end all dreams."

"It's not for me to pry into your private thoughts, Stephen, but I think you came to me for a reason. Please, sit down!"

Stephen felt himself reeling to and fro and was grateful for her offer of a seat. They sat together on the bed and he tried to collect his thoughts and to decide what to reveal and what to keep hidden. Only a few hours before, he had sworn not to tell her about the dreams he had been having about them both, but now it seemed that he would be forced to do so.

"Alright," he said, taking a deep breath. "First, I have to tell you something that I hoped I'd never have to tell you. Since that night--since the kiss, I mean--I've been having dreams about you, Vangie. They've been very good dreams, filled with something--something very special."

"I know what you mean," said Vangie, looking at him profoundly, and all at once, he understood that she did know. She'd been having the same dreams of him.

"Well," he said, "I had another dream tonight. It started out with you and I, and then--then it changed. Erica was there, and she wanted me to make love to her, but just when I thought she was going to force me, I was ejected from my body somehow, and Jacques was there. They--they were together, and I had to watch, and to be honest, I don't know if I'm dreaming or awake right now."

Vangie suddenly turned to him and took him in her arms and he found himself embracing and kissing her, and there was none of the animalistic quality that there had been in the dream.

"Well," she said after the kiss had ended, "what do you think now? Are you dreaming or are you awake?"

"I hope I'm awake," said Stephen, and as he looked around the room, he saw a corner of the ceiling which had apparently suffered some damage from the fire. There was a dark spot in the whiteness, and he thought that no dream, no matter how detailed it was, would contain so real and mundane an element as that.

"The real question before us is whether you were truly dreaming then," said Vangie, seeming to bore into him with the keenness of her gaze. "I fear that there was more to this than a simple nightmare, but we can know nothing for certain tonight."

"Have you slept at all?" He suddenly found all concern for himself wiped away in his solicitude for her.

"I have and I will," said Vangie, "but not until I know that you're alright."

"If I was really possessed by Jacques," he said, "then I don't know what I did. I saw Erica, but was I with Julia? Was I with someone real or someone imaginary? God! It's so sick!" He suddenly rose from the bed and began pacing back and forth. "This has all got to stop!"

"I know," said Vangie, still remaining seated and looking as composed as ever. "I know it does, but raging about it is not going to help anyone. I think you should go back to sleep now. I don't think you'll have any more trouble tonight."

"How do you know?" He was angry and impatient, and he hardly listened to what she was saying.

"I think they have what they want from you," was all her reply, and this vagueness further exasperated him.

"Will you say what you mean, for God's sake?"

"I wish I could be more direct," said Vangie, "but I am as much in the dark about all this as you are. All I can sense is that they're finished with you, for now at least. Now please go back to your room. You'll sleep well now. Of that I'm sure."

"Alright," he said, looking at her and his anger suddenly melting away. "I'm sorry to be so moody."

"I would be surprised if you weren't," she said with one of her gentle laughs. "Goodnight, Stephen, and sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, my lady," he found himself saying.

"Is that how you see me then?"

"It's from the dreams I've had," he said. "It seemed fitting to say it now, I guess."

"It is a title of honour reserved for a high priestess," said Vangie. "No one uses it nowadays, nor would I likely accept it from just anyone, but from you it makes sense. Goodnight, then."

Stephen found that he could say nothing in response. All he could do was look at her as she sat on the bed and stand in wonder, feeling shy and bold at the same time and wanting nothing more than to lie entwined in her arms. However, he mastered himself, nodded to her, and went out, closing the door behind him.

The night passed uneventfully enough, Stephen thought afterwards, but his sleep was not unbroken. Every time he woke, he thought of his earlier encounter, whether in dream or in reality he could not be certain, with Erica Desmond. She seemed so strong and self-assured, but when she was with Jacques, she seemed content to let him have his way with her. He wondered if it had been this strange love or obsession which had motivated her to murder so many people, including his uncle. Vangie had said that she was looking for a way to remain alive, to be immortal, and she had tried to find that immortality through Vangie and through his uncle's reason for being here in the first place, Holly Marshall.

He had thought a lot about Holly Marshall over the years, but he had not been able to gain news of her. According to Kathleen, she had escaped the fire with Jean Paul Desmond, but Kathleen herself had never known her or even heard of her in connection with the Desmonds over the past forty years or so. He noticed that whenever Vangie talked about her, there was a peculiar note in her voice, as though the Conjure Woman thought that Holly was something very special indeed. She must have been, Stephen thought, to make Matthew Dawson leave his pulpit in search of her, but all he could discover from the journal was that Matthew was truly in love with her, and that Holly was an angry young girl who found it difficult to trust people. So what had been so special about her, and what did Erica want with Julia or with him now? By the time morning had come, he still had no answers, and he had more questions than ever.