Evil Unearthed: Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-three

The moment Stephen walked into the Desmond library, he shuddered. The spectacle of the empty shelves ranged from floor to ceiling around the walls made him think of skeletons, of old piles of bones lying among broken shards of pottery and other odd refuse left by ancient humanity. Somehow, this library in its bookless state was redolent of decay and disuse; and yet, as he moved further into the room, Stephen realized that he was not its only occupant. Barrett sat in a large director's chair, papers and books littering the table in front of him and a long-forgotten cup of coffee by his hand. He was making notes on a page and seemed not to have heard Stephen's approach. He cleared his throat softly but he was surprised when even that small noise made Barrett tense all over, and when the older man raised his face to the light, it made him mortally afraid, for what he saw in it was nothing less than death itself. The dark eyes were filmed over with fatigue and the pale cheeks were hollow, the forehead was deeply furrowed and the smile that he showed to his former student in greeting was rather more of a grimace, as though he were battling with some pain or other of which Stephen had been unaware till now. Now, however, the cracks in the facade were showing, and here, he thought, was the real Robert Barrett, unmasked and unguarded.

"Well," said Barrett, sounding as much like himself as ever, "what brings you here, and have you seen my secretary lately?"

"I haven't seen her since last night," said Stephen, "and as for what brings me here, well, I'm bored. Nothing's happening yet, or nothing good anyway."

"Well," said Barrett, putting down his pen and sighing, "I suppose we should find a way to keep you occupied. First, why don't you start by sitting down and explaining that last remark you made. If nothing good has been happening lately, then what has been happening?"

Stephen took the chair across from his mentor and put his head in his hands for a moment. How was he going to explain the events of last night without revealing his own vulnerability? How was he going to be able to confide in Barrett while at the same time admitting to him that he loved the woman who had brought such happiness to his old friend for the past several years? The truth was best, he reflected, and so, raising his head to meet Barrett's haunted gaze, he began:

"I had a dream, or I think it was a dream anyway," and he recounted the details of the dream and of his frantic visit to Vangie's room in order to find some sanity. "You see," he said in conclusion, "I love her, old man, and she loves me. There's something between us, Barrett. I don't know what it is and neither does she, or if she does, she's being secretive about it as is her way, but it was unexpected and totally out of the blue."

"Dawson," said the professor, taking a sip of his cold coffee, "are you trying to apologize to me for something? I know that Evangeline could never love me the way that I do her. I haven't lived this long without knowing people. It's not my business to intrude into the emotional matters of my priestess unless they affect her work, but I will say this. If she had to fall in love with anyone, I'm glad it's you."

"Glad? I'm a Catholic priest, Barrett! What am I supposed to do about this?"

"I can't answer that for you," said Barrett. "I really can't. Still, we should think about this strange dream of yours. You say that the room you were in seemed ancient, with torches and tapestries and such?"

"That's what it looked like," said Stephen, "but when I opened the door and went out, I was standing opposite Vangie's door, and I don't remember waking up."

"I think you were forced to vacate your body for a time," said Barrett. "There are many documented cases of astral projection as you know, but the only difference here is that you were forced into doing it by something--something else."

"If the dream is to be believed, that is," said Stephen, getting up and pacing through the room, his footsteps muffled by the carpet but his breathing echoing in the vast and mostly-empty space.

"What did Vangie say about all this?"

"Nothing," said Stephen. "She knew nothing more than I did, and now I have no idea where she or Kathleen may be. I think I'm going to go outside and look for them. Could you use a break from all this?" He indicated the seemingly disordered pile of papers on the table.

"Well," said Barrett, "I am getting a bad case of writer's cramp, and if Vangie is shirking her secretarial duties, then I intend to show her this aching claw and to reproach her with it." He smiled again, and this time, Stephen knew beyond a doubt that he was engaged in some inner struggle, for the smile did not reach his eyes.

"Alright then," said Stephen. "Why don't you look through the house again while I look outside."

"I think I'll come with you, Stephen. I need some air."

"Very well," and the two men walked out of the library and into the great hall. As they passed the portrait, Stephen saw Barrett grip his staff with whitening knuckles and he wondered if this was the source of his troubles. Indeed, as he looked at the portrait himself, he saw something strange in the painted eyes; it was as though the eyes were alive with some nameless and gnawing hunger, some dark avarice which would as soon swallow the whole world and everything in it if it could not gain the one thing which might satisfy it. Then, when he turned back to Barrett, he realized that the same hunger dwelt deep in his eyes as well, and he resolved at once to keep that hunger from wakening at all costs.

"Are you coming, Dawson?" Barrett was standing at the great front doors.

"Yes," said Stephen," and he followed Barrett out into the sunlit grounds.

The two men wandered back and forth through the grounds and were surprised to see the dismantling of the scaffolding and other construction equipment even though the house was quite obviously not completed yet. Stephen was about to suggest that they attempt to climb to the high and precarious headland behind the house to see if Vangie or Kathleen might have gone to look at the view when Barrett seemed to spot something.

"Come on," he said. "I think they're in what remains of the garden, and I think something may be wrong!"

Stephen hurried after Barrett and was amazed at how fast he could go when he chose to, and after fighting his way between tangled branches and trailing fronds, he found Vangie sitting on a seat near to an old and no-longer-working fountain in the shape of a large serpent, and as he got nearer, he saw Kathleen slumped beside her and utterly motionless.

"It just happened a moment ago," said Vangie as she took note of their approach. "She was--frightened by something." Stephen caught a hint of self-blame in her voice but he chose to ignore it for the moment.

"Is there a pulse?" He asked, for Vangie had been holding Kathleen's wrist and had now let it go.

"Yes," she said. "I think she can be moved safely."

"Well," said Barrett, dropping his staff, "we can at least make her more comfortable," and as Vangie stood up, he and Stephen carefully moved Kathleen's unresisting body into a sleeping posture. Then the two men stood back again and watched as Vangie knelt over her, looking long and unmoving into her eyes, which, they realized, were open in a fixed but unfocused stare.

"Come now, Kat," Vangie said softly. "We need you to come back to us. We're all here: Stephen, Professor Barrett and myself. You're safe with us. Hear me, Kathleen O'Dell!" Stephen heard the command in that last statement and he knew that she was not just speaking to Kathleen as a concerned friend. He knew that it was Vangie the priestess who was calling to Kathleen's very spirit, and if it were possible, he loved her even more in that moment than he had before.

After some minutes, Kathleen's eyes began to move slowly, and Stephen saw the life stirring within them. However, she still lay motionless, breathing slowly and deeply.

"Kat," he said, hopefully. "It's Stephen."

"The serpent," said Kathleen in a strange and far-away voice. "Watch out. It hides in plain sight. It will bite!" At these words Stephen was struck dumb, because in Kathleen's eyes he saw raw hatred reflected, and her gaze as he watched it fell on Barrett who stood leaning against the serpent fountain with his serpent staff gripped firmly in his hand. Stephen looked at Kathleen again, trying to decide what kind of hatred this was, and what he saw was something cold, almost impersonal, a hatred devoid of humanity and somehow made clean because of this. This, he thought, was the sort of hatred humans were supposed to feel toward evil, and he knew in a flash that Kathleen had somehow seen what he had seen in Barrett's eyes in the great hall,: a dangerous and unpredictable hunger.

"Stop looking at me," Barrett suddenly burst out. "Damn you! Stop looking at me!"

"What?" Kathleen was now properly coming to, and seemed unaware of having spoken a moment before. "Where did you come from?" She addressed this question to Stephen, but it was Barrett who answered.

"The house," he said. "We came from the house to look for you! Much good it has done us, too, because everything's mad here. We're all here in this mad place because of you!"

"Robert," said Vangie, stepping between Barrett and Kathleen as though to shield her from him, "what is all this talk?"

"Didn't you see how she looked at me just then?"

"I did," said Vangie, "but I also know that she did not do it consciously, so please! Don't take on so!"

"Well," said Stephen to Kathleen in order to break the ensuing awkward silence, "how are you feeling now? What made you faint?"

"It was--it was a vision," she said. "Vangie and I were talking, and she was showing me how to protect myself from--from the darkness around this place, and I saw something that frightened me, and I suppose I fainted."

"What did you see?"

"That doesn't matter, Stephen," said Vangie quickly. "What does matter is what Kat and I have found out. You both should hear this, if, that is, you're up to having a council now, Kat." She regarded the other woman with a healer's eye, and Stephen did not need to see her approving smile to realize that Kathleen was on the mend. Her colour was returning as they talked, and after a while, she sat up and let Vangie sit beside her. Stephen and Barrett seated themselves on the stone base of the fountain and the group resolved itself into a strange and soberly-expectant silence while Vangie seemed to collect her thoughts.

"Kathleen and I have spoken with Julia," she said finally, "and we have found out that the experience you had last night, Stephen, was not a dream or an illusion. It was horribly true, I'm afraid, and we have learned something of the reason for it."

"I half-suspected that it wasn't a dream," put in Barrett.

"You told him then, Stephen?"

"I did," said Stephen, "but please! Can you tell me what you've learned?"

"Julia," said Kathleen, "or should I say Erica, told us that Jacques Eloi des Mondes seeks to be reincarnated, and it seems that he and Erica have used both you and Julia to achieve this end. He wants a child to possess and to turn entirely to his own whims."

"And not only his whims," said Vangie, "but the influence of the power which moves behind him in the shadows. That power is neither more nor less than Satan himself; I know that now."

"Satan? Really, Vangie!" Barrett looked at his priestess through narrowed eyes. "Isn't Satan just something we make up to justify the evils of our most complicated nature? Don't you even believe that, Stephen?"

"It's true," said Stephen, "that the notion of a literal devil has been less popular among Christians lately than it once was, but I've seen too much to deny it! Whatever really happened last night was something unholy and corrupting. It was evil, Barrett, and whatever you call it, it's real!"

"We've all been touched by it now," said Vangie. "We're all bound to its fate. We have all sworn to see it driven from this place. Are we all still resolved on this?" Stephen saw her looking at Barrett for a long and terrible moment, and all at once, he knew exactly what she was seeing, for a flicker of deep concern crossed her face and she looked quickly away as though his gaze had burned her.

"If any of you cannot bear to continue," she said now, a faint quaver in her steady voice and her eyes shifting to Kathleen for a moment, "it is no shame to admit it."

"But what exactly are we continuing?" Stephen heard Kathleen's voice and it sounded very, very tired. "So far, we've said a few prayers and read a few cards, and the rest of the time we've talked. What about the action? When do the bell, book and candle make their appearance?"

"She's right, you know," said Stephen. "Anyone can see that none of us will be able to last much longer like this. I'm of a mind to go in right now and find Julia and perform the exorcism on her without any further discussion."

"I'm not convinced that exorcising Julia would accomplish our larger goal," said Vangie. "The reason that the devil walks here and has done so for so long is that the island itself has become a place of corruption and death. I do intend to save Julia, but that isn't all that I am sworn to do by my vows as Conjure Woman. We have to find a way to save the whole island, to rid it once and for all of the evil spell which has lain upon it for so long."

"That sounds as though it's more in your line of work," said Stephen.

"I agree," said Vangie, "but I can do nothing without a place to work from, a way to focus the power to which I have access. There is an ancient temple in the heart of the island. One entrance to it was connected to the house and is rather inaccessible now, but there is another entrance somewhere within the coral caves under the cliffs. This is the ancient temple of the Great Serpent. Your uncle, Stephen, visited it once."

"Really? It wasn't in his journal," said Stephen.

"No," said Vangie, "but Quito told me later that he had seen the temple. Raxl brought him there once so that they could have a secret place to talk. Alas, though, it was destroyed by Erica Desmond. Still, perhaps there is something which can be done. If we can restore the temple, then perhaps it will be the starting-point to restoring the island."

"You talked about this last night, didn't you?" Kathleen was looking wide-eyed at Vangie. "You knew about it. You knew we would have to go to--to the temple. You discussed a journey."

Stephen was not sure why Kathleen was so fearful, but he knew that something was terribly wrong.

"There's no reason for you to have to go there," said Vangie soothingly, "but at the very least, I must go there, and Robert must be with me."

"You know I'd follow you anywhere, Evangeline," said Barrett, "but I may be too old for subterranean exploration."

"Wait," said Stephen. "I still don't know how this is going to help us or why Kat is so frightened. What did you see before you fainted, Kat?"

"I saw the temple," said Kathleen hesitantly, "and I saw myself being sacrificed there. I saw myself dead, Stephen, and--" She cast her eyes down and almost mumbled the rest of the sentence., "it was--it was Vangie's hand which seemed to have killed me!"

Stephen found himself growing angry. How could Kathleen accuse Vangie of doing something like that? He was about to protest his beloved's innocence when he realized that this was a vision and not reality, and was immediately apologetic and cast his eyes down in shame and chagrin.

"I'm hoping it was not a true vision," said Vangie, "but an evil trick to throw her off balance. Still, Kat, I'm not expecting you to enter the temple bounds if you don't want to do so."

"When would you plan to make this journey?" Barrett's question recalled everyone to the main subject of their discussion.

"I think that tomorrow should be the day," said Vangie.

"Alright then," said Barrett. "Perhaps Stephen and Miss O'Dell can stay in the house and look to see if Julia suspects us of anything."

"That makes some sense," said Stephen.

"Alright then," said Vangie. "That's settled. Above all, we have to keep the evil influences to a minimum down there, so if you two will help by keeping Julia, whether possessed or not, in the dark about all this, then so much the better. The fact is that I hardly know what will happen when we get to the temple. All I do know is that I need to stand within its walls again."

Stephen looked at her just then and realized that she was beyond tired.

"Well, whatever happens tomorrow," he said, "I think you, Vangie, need to sleep for today."

"At the very least," said Vangie, a tired smile on her face, "I need to relax. I vow that until tomorrow, I will not read a card or conjure a vision or do anything to contact a spirit unless it is absolutely necessary."

"Then what about joining me in the library?" Barrett seemed to have recovered his usual manner, but Stephen was still puzzled as to the battle he seemed to be waging within himself. It seemed to be more than just a fight with the pains of his weakening body, but he could not be certain of anything right now. Still, what he had seen when Barrett had looked at the portrait in the great hall had unnerved him, so it was with an eye to relieving Vangie of some unknown yet potential stress which made him say hastily:

"Oh really! After all that's happened today, old man? You want to go back to those books of yours? Look. At the very least we should all eat something first."

"It is past noon," said Kathleen. "Alright. I'll go and find something for us."

"I'll come too," said Stephen. "Should we eat out here?"

"The less I see of that house today," said Kathleen," the better. Is that alright with you two?" She looked from Barrett to Vangie as she spoke.

"Yes," said Vangie. "I think the sun and fresh air will do us all some good."

"Alright then," said Stephen. "Consider me your head waiter. Point me to the food!"

Stephen followed Kathleen along a winding path which led through what must at one time have been a kitchen garden. He could smell the pungent scent of herbs long ago gone to seed and allowed to run rampant and to overwhelm the many stakes and trellises which had been erected in order to direct their once domesticated progress, and he found himself idly wondering what all these plants, some heavily-scented and some delicately-sweet, might be and whether the biologists at his university would have knowledge of them.

"Do you think," he said to Kathleen as they made their way through the foliage both living and long decayed, "that Raxl used this garden?"

"I'm sure she did," said Kathleen, "for cooking and for other things too, perhaps. I wonder what Vangie might make of the things growing here?"

"Who knows?" Stephen found himself smiling at the thought of Vangie rooting through the leaves and bulbs to cull herbs for a tea or some other mysterious brew, and then he looked at Kathleen's face. He could have been mistaken, but it seemed that there was a flicker of fear when she mentioned the Conjure Woman's name. He decided to pass it off.

"Barrett says that the natives here have medicines that can do things that our doctors have never even seen before," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I'm sure that's true. Well," said Kathleen, "here we are at last!" As the door opened into the kitchen, Stephen felt a sudden chill envelop his whole body, and for a moment, it felt as though some dark presence was keeping him from entering. A touch on his arm made him jump, and then he realized that it was only Kathleen giving his arm a gentle tug.

"Are you alright? You're white, Stephen!"

"I'm alright," he said, "but don't you feel the chill in here? It's a hot day, but in here it feels like--well--like a tomb."

"Let's get the food," said Kathleen. "I've had enough dark portents for one day."

"But wait," said Stephen. "Explain to me that vision you saw. I don't quite understand it."

"What do you want to know?" Kathleen's back was to him as she said this, and as she prepared chicken salad sandwiches from the stores in the fridge and cabinets, Stephen sat on a chair near the door into the overgrown garden. He felt it important to be as near to an exit as possible.

"Anything you can tell me, I guess."

"Well," said Kathleen, "I don't quite know how I ended up having the vision. Vangie says that I--well--followed her somehow, but I don't know what she means. Anyhow, when I saw the blood and--and Vangie pouring it, and when I saw my own body lying dead and white on the floor of that--that place, I was frightened, and then I suppose I fainted."

"But that doesn't make sense! I don't see you as being squeamish, Kat!" It was true. He thought he was a good judge of character, and in all her conduct and demeanour there was nothing to suggest that she would faint at the sight of blood.

"No, you're right. I've lopped off the heads of chickens before," she said, turning to him with a glint of pride in her eye. "You know, now that I think of it, it wasn't fear or squeamishness. It was something else. It was as though something had--had pulled me away from the sun and warmth and Vangie's real presence into a dark place where everything was upside-down, and then it was as though I was fighting through cold water to find the air again."

"You'd better tell this to Vangie," said Stephen, as he took the paper bag full of sandwiches which she handed him.

"I will," said Kathleen, "but I have a hunch that she already knows something of it. There isn't much that gets past her."

Stephen suddenly found himself thinking of Barrett and the strange inner battle he was waging, and he hoped fervently that Kathleen was right and that this too would not escape Vangie's notice.

"Kat," he said after a pause, "do you remember when you were first coming around? You seemed to look at Barrett and to say some strange words."

"What did I say? I'm afraid I don't recall it."

"You said something about the serpent hiding in plain sight and that it would bite. I thought that perhaps you were just looking at the serpent fountain and dreaming of something."

"Should there be any other cause? What aren't you telling me, Stephen?"

"Kat, I don't know. All I know is that for a moment, you had a look in your eye as though you hated Barrett or hated some presence that you sensed. It wasn't like usual hatred though. It was--it was as though an angel wanted to do battle with a demon. An angel doesn't hate the way we do, if, of course, an angel can hate at all, that is. However, I think that an angel would have an aversion to whatever was its opposite, and that's what I saw in your eyes for an instant."

"Well," said Kathleen, "packing another bag with bottles of lemonade and water, "I don't know about that, but I do know that this island is making us all jumpy. I really do hope that tomorrow will finally get things moving, because I don't know how much more of all this I can take! Now, let's get back to the others," and with that, she moved past him to open the door and they went together into the bright sunlight.