Evil Unearthed: Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-four

After the meal of sandwiches taken in the open air, Kathleen beguiled the rest of the day with working on projects related to the design of some of the as-yet-unfinished portions of the house, and she was grateful for the mundanity of such a task. Her computer was easy to understand. It required nothing more from her than simple instructions and it did as she willed. There was no mystery, no madness, no terror for her here, and yet, behind the words and images which flowed across the screen as she worked, she felt the chill of which Stephen had spoken some hours before. She knew that she could not stay cooped up here forever, and as the sun went down, a knock on her door forced her to admit this fact to her overtaxed body and mind.

"Yes," she said in a none-too-courteous voice. "Come in." Then, all at once, she thought of who might be on the other side of the door and regretted the offhand way she had spoken. If Julia came in now, still being controlled by Erica's spirit, she would have no defense against her.

"Are you sure I won't be disturbing you?" The voice was familiar, but it was not that of Julia. Kathleen let out a sigh of relief when she realized that it was Vangie Abbot's voice, and she got up from her desk and opened the door.

"I hoped I would find you here," said The Conjure Woman as she entered. "We were going to have some dinner. Did you want anything?"

"I suppose I should have more than just a sandwich," said Kathleen, "but to tell you the truth, I was happy in my state of utter oblivion to the world outside this little room."

"I can certainly understand that feeling," said Vangie, "but none of us should be alone for long, I think. Will you come to Stephen's balcony? We thought we'd eat there again tonight."

"Just let me shut down this computer," she said, "and I'll be with you right away."

"What is it you're working on here?" Vangie moved closer to inspect the screen. "Ah," she said. "designs for the library! It does look a little bare now. I was in there today with Robert and I couldn't stand all those empty shelves."

"I really thought you'd be against what I'm doing here," said Kathleen, raising her eyebrows.

"No," said Vangie. "I cannot be against anything which will bring life and warmth into the world, and if this restoration project can be redeemed from its evil purpose, I'm quite content to have the house brought back, but now, it is being restored for purposes which are all too clear and all too evil."

"I suppose," said Kathleen. "By the way, how is professor Barrett? He looks unwell!"

"He is unwell, Kat," said Vangie, "and I know it's not merely his age which is causing it. Still, I don't know how to help him."

"You could give him strength like you did to me that night in your cabin." Kathleen remembered with awe the strange and mystical light which had been on Vangie's face and hands and the thrill of electricity which had passed into her own body in that moment. "Surely that would help him."

"Perhaps you're right," said Vangie, "but I--I don't know. Anyway, whatever I do will not be done tonight. We all have to take things easy before the journey tomorrow."

"I hope we're permitted to do so," said Kathleen as she shut down her computer.

"As do I," said Vangie, and she held open the door for Kathleen to exit the small office.

The house was very silent as the two women meandered their way through passages and corridors to the wing which held the guest rooms. Though the incessant pounding of hammers and thumping and whirring of machinery had annoyed her, Kathleen now missed it as though it had been some well-loved and reassuring sound. As she pondered this feeling of loss, she realized that with the sounds of the construction gone, so had gone the last trace of the outside world, the world of real life, the world where mysterious evil did not hold sway and where she herself was a force to be reckoned with rather than a simple, scared woman.

"I hate this place," she found herself saying as she and Vangie turned a corner.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," said a lilting and honey-toned female voice from some way ahead, and suddenly Julia stood in the passage in front of them, though in her eyes was the same cunning look that Kathleen had learned to recognize as that of Erica Desmond.

"My dear Kathleen," she continued, coming closer, "I wish you would tell me how I can make things better for you. I'm sure your friend here--Miss Abbott is it?--I'm sure she doesn't share your feelings. After all, this house is well known to you, is it not, dear?"

"It is indeed well known to me," was all Vangie's reply, but Kathleen suddenly felt her hand squeezed reassuringly.

"So then, Kathleen," Julia's voice continued in Erica's tones, "do you truly hate this place so very much? It is my home, and you are my guest--nay--friend! You should not be feeling uncomfortable here, dearest!"

"I'm just tired, Julia," Kathleen returned.

"Ah. Tired. And what about you, Miss Abbott? Are you tired as well? Has your day been a trying one?" Kathleen heard the mockery behind the concerned questioning and longed to extricate Vangie from the situation. However, the other woman seemed equal to the task of dealing with Erica's derision.

"No," she said now in a hard and clear voice. "I feel strong and well, thank you, Miss Desmond."

"Ah good. I'm very glad to hear it! Now, I really must be going. Till we meet again," and with that, Julia glided away through another corridor and Vangie let out a long sigh.

"Erica's spirit is gaining strength, Kat," she said quietly. "I thought she was weakening this morning, but it appears that I have been much mistaken."

Kathleen noticed a drawn look pass briefly over the other woman's features to be replaced as quickly by her habitual expression of calm repose.

"What about Julia?" was all that she could think to ask.

"She is still safe for the moment," Vangie said, "but we will have to make our plans and put them into action as soon as we possibly can. Come now. Let's go to dinner."

The evening was calm as Kathleen stepped out onto Stephen's balcony. The sun was setting in a great glory of crimson fire, and not a breath of breeze passed across the sea to bring relief to what was rapidly becoming a very humid and heavy night. The sea moved sluggishly as the very sky seemed to press down upon it from above. Still, no cloud had yet appeared to darken the horizon, and the scents of the night-blooming flowers growing in lush profusion all over the island added a sweetness to the atmosphere of waiting stillness which seemed to hang over the little group as they ate and drank and spoke in hushed tones. Despite the quiet talk, however, the dinner was a jolly affair. Vangie, Kathleen noticed, was eating more than she had eaten the night before, and she even took a little wine for once. It was Professor Barrett this time who seemed to have lost his appetite, and he sat quietly and listened as the others talked lightly about themselves and each other.

"You know, Vangie," said Stephen, "I recall you telling me that you had studied parapsychology at some point. Did you do this formally?"

"I did indeed," said Vangie. "I attended an obscure college in New England and during my fifth year, I was fortunate to be hired as the assistant to one of my professors. His name would not be known to you now, but he was a man who prided himself on the hands-on field research that he did. He was, in short, a ghost-hunter, and once he knew about my ESP, he treated me as one of his favourite tools."

"That doesn't sound pleasant," said Kathleen, trying hard to keep her mind on the conversation at hand and not to think about the vision of Vangie in the temple.

"Well, at first it wasn't," said Vangie with one of her lovely smiles, "but as we worked together, he realized that I was not just a walking ghostometer and he began to think of me as a protégé. He had always felt that if he had had 'the gift,' as he called ESP, he would have become famous as a hunter and tracker of ghosts and spirits. Now that he was aging and ready soon to retire, he hoped that I would follow in his footsteps, and when I told him that I needed to return to my father, he was very disappointed."

"What made you give all that up to come back here?" Kathleen felt that a life spent in hunting for ghosts in old houses would have been more adventurous than returning to become a waitress at a cafe on one's native island.

"Even then," said Vangie, "my father knew that something was in the wind here on Maljardin. It was true that I protested against my return to Port French Leave for as long as I could, but despite our differences of opinion and belief, I loved my father very much and could not leave him simply to satisfy my own whims. Also, the longer I remained away from these islands, the more surely I knew that I was beginning to age. IN five years spent among the changing seasons of New England, I seemed to age ten years. Till then, I had retained the appearance of the eighteen-year-old girl I had been when I went through the ritual to extend my life."

"About that ritual," said Barrett, suddenly coming to life, "you say that no one knows how it was performed nowadays, but you surely must remember something about it." Kathleen wanted to know about it as well. In fact, she wondered if it was this ritual that she had seen in the vision, though if it was, she didn't understand how she could have seen her own body being sacrificed.

"It involved very deep levels of trance, Robert," said Vangie, looking at him strangely, "and I do not remember very much of it at all. I've told you this several times." Kathleen caught a hint of impatience and perhaps anger in the other woman's voice, and she also found herself wondering if Vangie was telling all the truth about how much she could remember.

"Right," said Barrett. "Right. I just thought I'd ask."

"Look Vangie," said Stephen, suddenly becoming serious, "would you and Kathleen take the dishes away and come back here in twenty minutes or so?"

"Alright," said Vangie. "Let's Go, Kat."

"No," said Kathleen. "I don't think any of us should leave right now." She didn't know why she had said this, but it was an unalterable conviction within her and she couldn't take it back.

"Well, I at least will deal with the dishes, then," said Vangie, and before Kathleen could stop her, she began gathering things up and putting them on a tray."

"Alright," said Kathleen. "You can't do all of this yourself. I'll come too."

"What has you frightened, Kat?" The two women were standing in the kitchen and washing the dinner things: Kathleen with her hands in the hot and soapy water and Vangie moving back and forth with a towel, drying dishes and putting them away.

"I don't know! I don't know! I just know that something is coming, something bad is going to happen, and then, well, then there's Barrett. There's something not right about him. it's not just that he's ill!"

"I know, Kat. I know."

"And now we've left Stephen alone with him!"

"Stephen is his friend," said Vangie. "He'll be safe enough. Did you wonder why he specified twenty minutes for our time away?"

"He wants to have it out with Barrett? He has suspicions too?"

"Exactly," said Vangie. "The forces in this house want us to be frightened, and they will use any one of us or anything they can to accomplish that goal. If we're frightened enough, they figure that we'll turn on each other, and that's what they want above all else. It's what they wanted before, and they succeeded, or very nearly. We can't let them succeed this time, and Stephen is trying his utmost to keep Barrett with us, though I fear that he will not be successful."

"But what's happening to him?" Kathleen finished washing her last knife and placed it next to the sink. "He keeps looking at me with a hardness in his eyes that I don't like."

"I've seen that too," said Vangie, "but I do not think that it is exactly him. Something is trying to get control of him."

"And what about you? Is someone trying to control you?" Kathleen couldn't stop herself from saying the words and immediately regretted them as soon as they were out. Still, now that she had asked the question, she had to continue. "What about that vision? I trust you, Vangie, but that vision was so--so--" She burst into helpless sobbing.

"Kat," said Vangie, taking the wet cloth from her hands and pulling her into an embrace, "please believe me when I tell you that I have no idea why you had that vision. Perhaps we will find the answer, but I believe that it was meant to make you suspicious of me."

"But you said that I had followed you somewhere. What did you mean exactly?"

"Well," said Vangie, drawing away now that Kathleen's sobs had quieted, "I was remembering the temple, and I could feel you sharing my memories. Though I didn't see anything but the blood in the basin, and strange as it may seem in these modern times, blood in the basin was a common enough occurrence in the time of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes. It's true that most of the time it was animal blood, but it is also true that people were sometimes sacrificed to appease The Great Serpent in times of great need."

"Look," said Kathleen. "I've read The Golden Bough, or at least parts of it. I understand how this kind of thing works, but it doesn't mean I like it or trust it."

"I know," said Vangie, "and that's why you were given this particular vision. This dark force wants the trust built up between all of us over the past few weeks to be eroded by any means necessary, and one sure way to achieve this will be to play on our primal fears. All I can do now is tell you that I swear by my ancestors that I will do whatever it takes to see that your vision does not come true."

Kathleen looked into Vangie's eyes and saw the gleam of tears.

"What is it? Vangie?"

"Nothing," said Vangie, turning away. "Nothing at all. It's time we should be getting back to the others, I think."

Kathleen opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come out, so she helped Vangie put away the remaining dishes and the two of them went back to where the others were waiting,. At least, one other was waiting. As Kathleen stepped onto the balcony, a low peal of thunder reverberated across the otherwise quiet sky, and in a flash of lightning, she saw Stephen lying still on his back amid a litter of overturned chairs and spilled wine. He didn't move when she ran over and shook him, but after checking his pulse and laying her hand on his chest, she realized that he was only stunned and would likely come to in a while.

"Please stay with him, Kat," said Vangie, a stern look coming into her eyes. "I've got to find Robert."

Just then, Stephen stirred and tried to look to where Vangie was already moving away, but an apparent spasm of pain made him wince and close his eyes.

"Wait," he said through a swollen lip. "Wait, Vangie! He's not--he's not him! Be--be careful!" He tried to stand up and follow her, but Kathleen knew well that he should stay still until his head cleared, so she made him lie down again.

"You warned her, Stephen," she said. "She'll be careful. Now, just lie still and let me look at your head."

"No, Kat," he said. "No! You don't understand!"

"then help me to understand," she said. "Tell me what happened while we were gone."

"Well," said Stephen as she examined a rising lump at the back of his head, "I wanted him to tell me what was going on with him. I wanted him to open up. He began to tell me that he had felt something dark in the corners of his mind almost ever since he had first come to these islands, but he didn't think anything of it, or tried not to. He said that he was drawn to Maljardin but that he had never set foot upon it until now, and when he heard the portrait of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes speak, he was shocked to realize that it was his voice which had followed him through waking and dreaming for the past several years."

"Alright," said Kathleen. "Your head's not bleeding and I hope nothing worse has happened than a bad headache. So now tell me how you got this bump. I think you can try to sit up now if you want."

"Well," said Stephen as she helped him to a sitting position and got him some brandy from a bottle which had not been damaged in the apparent scuffle, "he actually started to cry and begged me to find him a way off the island. He was afraid of hurting us if he stayed, but most of all, he was terrified of hurting Vangie. He was like a man who knew he had a monster inside him, and I think, Kat, that that's exactly what's going on."

"But then that means," said Kathleen, almost dropping the glass that she was holding for him, "that Vangie's in danger if she finds him!"

"I'm afraid you're right," said Stephen, "because as Barrett was begging me to help him to leave the island, suddenly it all became very still and he straightened himself up, and he--well--he changed. He looked at me as though I were nothing more than a bug beneath his boot, and though he said nothing, from him came--well--a force, a power. I stood up and made the sign of the cross, not knowing what else to do, and then I found myself flying backward, and the next thing I knew, you were shaking me and Vangie was telling me that she was going to find him."

"And what if he finds Julia--Erica?" Kathleen was shaking all over. "What if they team up? Vangie told me that she thinks that Erica's spirit is getting stronger. We've got to find out where Vangie went!"

Just then, as though to confirm their worst fears, a long and terrible scream rang out through the house.

"Where do you think that came from?"

"It sounded like the library," said Stephen, "but it's hard to know in this place." The scream came again, and this time, Kathleen caught words in Vangie's unmistakable tones amid the cries of pain.

"Robert, please! Fight him! Remember who you are!"

"That's it!" said Stephen. "I don't care if I have a concussion. I'm going to find them!"

"I'm coming too," said Kathleen, "if only to keep you on your feet," and supporting Stephen, who was in truth rather shaky on his legs despite his manly determination, she went as fast as she could in the direction of the shouting.