Evil Unearthed: Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-six

As soon as Stephen and Barrett left the library, Kathleen felt all the strength draining from her. Indeed, from the moment she had walked into the room, something had been different. She had known a sense of urgency which she had never felt before, and during the time when Jacques was taunting both Stephen and herself and torturing the Conjure Woman, she had felt herself by turns growing more and more afraid and more and more angry. However, in the end, the anger had won out, and then something had happened, something had expanded within her and had filled her with indignation, and she had heard herself saying strange words and felt a strength flowing through her that was similar to the sensation she had felt in Vangie's cabin when the Conjure Woman had imparted some of her power to her. Now, however, as she knelt beside Vangie and felt her pulse, she suddenly felt like the same frightened woman she had been all along.

"Kat," said Vangie weakly, "are you alright?"

"Well, I have a raging headache," she said, "but I should be asking you that question, shouldn't I?"

"Don't worry," said Vangie, moving slowly to sit up. "The things that were done to me can have no lasting effects. He paralyzed me, it is true, and if you had not been here, I don't think he would have been stopped."

"What? Me?"

"Yes, Kat. Didn't you know? You were able to find my mind in the darkness, and when you did, I was able to lend you some reserves of strength."

"So you made me do what I did?"

"No, Kat," said Vangie, looking at her straight and steadily. "All I did was lend you some strength. It was you that used it, both to challenge Jacques and to help to clear Stephen's mind. It is apparent to me now that you definitely have a very special gift, though I would almost wish you not to learn more about it. These things can be at best mixed blessings and at worst dreadful curses. Still, if you do not learn more about this gift, it will be a vulnerability for you in this place."

"Well," said Kathleen after a pause, "all I know is that I got angry, and then everything went--well--strange. I heard myself speaking, but it was as though I was literally beside myself. Something--well--bigger than me was in charge, but I knew that I hadn't been taken over in the way that Barrett was or--well--like Julia."

"Yes," said Vangie. "I think that you were a conduit for the power I lent you, and you had the ability to use what came to you, to direct it."

"Is that what you do? Are you a--a conduit?" Kathleen found all this a little overwhelming, but her insatiable curiosity led her on.

"At the best of times," said the Conjure Woman gravely, "I am a conduit, but it seems to be my lot in life to put myself at the mercy of great powers, to be used by them rather than to use them myself. Kat, my friend, I live in a world between what the five senses can perceive and what exists unseen in and around us. I am constantly in touch with pulses and vibrations, with forces and feelings which are very difficult to describe and even more difficult to shut out or to ignore. I have learned much since the terrible mistakes I made the last time I was in this house, and I can do what you did tonight, but only after years of training and a very strong dose of already-existing ESP. Tell me, until all this began, had you ever experienced anything like psychic ability or mental telepathy?"

"No, but my Grandmother used to have--well--fits was what we called them. She'd sometimes be in a kind of trance like the one I found you in that night at the hotel on the main island. She used to say that the spirits from the other world were abroad when that happened. I always thought she was a little batty or that she had some kind of seizure disorder or, but now, well, I'm not so sure."

"There are what are called places of power in the world," Vangie said musingly, "places where the earth's energy runs straight and true without a lot of human nonsense to get in its way. Ireland is certainly such a place, and if your Grandmother was a sensitive, then perhaps Ireland's particular brand of myth and mysticism called to her in a special way. You may have inherited that sensitivity from her, only it never had a chance to be awakened until now; for Maljardin is also a place of power, and power which is, to state what is painfully obvious to us all, very stirred up just now." Kathleen tensed as she saw a wincing look cross Vangie's features.

"Really," she said now, "it's late. Shouldn't you be getting to bed?"

"Yes, I suppose that would be the the right thing to do. Help me to my feet, would you?"

Kathleen took Vangie's offered hand and let her pull herself up, but as she stood, swaying for a moment while she got her balance, Vangie suddenly let out a piercing cry.

"No! No! Not now!" and Kathleen felt her hand caught in a grip like that of a drowning swimmer, and then Vangie began to run, heedless of the broken glass or of her companion's presence.

"What? What is it?" Kathleen was trying desperately to loose Vangie's hold on her, but it was clear that the other woman was struggling with something beyond fear. Her face was pale and her eyes looked crazed and unfocused, and no matter how many questions Kathleen asked, no answers were forthcoming.

Suddenly, at the junction of several different passages, Vangie stopped and tried to collect herself.

"I'm sorry, Kat," she said. "but something terrible has happened. I think--I think that Robert may be dying, or perhaps even dead. I'm going to him. If you wish you may come, but I should not force you to do so. Again, I'm very sorry."

"Vangie," said Kathleen, who knew better by now than to doubt these strange and sudden pronouncements, "I can't leave you to do this on your own! What kind of a person would I be if I did that? Come on!"

"Just a moment, Kat. I want to say something before we go. I told you before that I haven't made many friends in my life, but I know a true friend when I meet one. Thank you for being a true friend!"

"Vangie, I don't know what to--"

"Ah! Have I stumbled upon a tender moment?" Kathleen jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder and turning, saw Julia's form standing behind her, an unpleasant gleam in her eye.

"It's nothing," she said, "really. Just let us go on our way."

"Oh, in a moment," she said. "In a moment. I see that Miss Abbott is a little the worse for wear. Have we had a shock, dear?"

"Please, Julia," said Kathleen, "let us pass!"

"Yes, Julia," said Vangie quietly but firmly, "please let us pass!"

"No," said Julia, her voice suddenly changed. "Kat, tell me what's happened! Your friend is clearly frightened. Did--did I--she--that thing do something?"

"No, Julia," said Kathleen, and she was about to go on and tell her the whole story, but Vangie clamped a strong hand over her mouth.

"Hush," she whispered. "That is Julia, it's true, but Erica may be allowing her to come out in order to get the truth from you."

"Your friend is very cunning, Kathleen!" said Julia, Erica's cunningness returning to her voice and her eye. " You should listen to her, but be careful! She may not be all that she seems! Goodnight to you both!"

"Goodnight, Miss Desmond," said Vangie. "We'll meet again soon," and Kathleen thought there was an encouraging tone in those words for Julia, who had once again been subsumed by the hateful presence of Erica or, she reminded herself, whatever stood behind Erica in the shadows, brooding over this entire island and poisoning all who set foot on it. It was, she thought, malice incarnate. It truly was the devil! After all, Erica Desmond was a poisoned soul herself. She had once been a lively and happy woman with her whole life ahead of her, and now, only faint and twisted traces of that woman remained. Would Julia end up the same way? Would any of them get out of this house alive? Looking at Vangie's barely-controlled terror and at Erica's assured stride as she made Julia's body walk away, she found herself despairing, and it was with grim resolve that she took Vangie's hand and turned to walk down the passage which led to Barrett's room.

The door stood ajar, and as they approached it, they saw Vangie's worst fears realized. There, in a chair by the bed, sat Stephen in his cassock and fingering a rosary, while on the bed itself lay Professor Robert Barrett, his eyes closed and his chest barely moving. Immediately, Vangie went to his side to assess the situation, while Kathleen shook Stephen, who had actually fallen asleep over his beads.

"My God!" she said quietly. "What on earth happened here?" Then she saw some drops of oil sprinkled upon Barrett's forehead, and she knew what Stephen had done.

"You gave him the Last Rites," she said. "Didn't you try to save him?"

"I--I couldn't save him, Kat," said Stephen. "He said there was no antidote."

"Antidote? What?"

"He--he took something. I couldn't stop him! I swear I couldn't! Oh God! God, I'm sorry!" and suddenly, Stephen broke down and sobbed, his head in his hands.

Kathleen stood behind him, frozen between sisterly affection and something which she could not name. This man had been through hell and back tonight, and now here he was, sitting beside his mentor as he lay dying of a self-inflicted poisoning, while she and Vangie had been busy discussing psychic abilities and conversing with a possessed woman.

"Stephen," she said, "I'm sure that none of this is your fault. Come on, we should go."

"No," he said fiercely. "He wanted me here. He said I should--that Vangie and I should--be here when he died. I just--I just need a drink," he said, and Kathleen, given a mission at last, hurried to get him a glass of brandy.

When she returned, Stephen had composed himself enough to take the glass from her, downing its contents in a few swigs.

"Thanks, Kat," he said, giving her shoulder a friendly squeeze. "Thanks a lot," and she watched as he turned his attention to Vangie and Barrett, though she noticed that his eyes were really only for the Conjure Woman, who was apparently doing her ritual office. She had taken Barrett's hand in hers and was blessing him with her other hand while whispering something. She caught the word 'peace' amid the muttered syllables, and suddenly she knew that her presence was no longer required or even wanted, because she saw Stephen gazing at Vangie in an utterly unmistakable way. He was smitten with her. Kathleen understood that now beyond any doubt, and as Vangie turned from the dying Voodoo priest to look at the living Christian one, Kathleen knew that there was a reciprocal feeling in her and that there was something between them which she could never have with Stephen, or indeed with Vangie. She and the Conjure Woman might have a bond of trust and even friendship, and she and Stephen might be able to laugh and joke and count on each other in a pinch, but here was a communion which was emotional and spiritual, something secret and sacred in which she could not join; but then why not? After all, not only did they share some inexplicable bond, but now they were watching together as their mutual friend, a mentor to one and a partner to the other, lay losing his life. This of all moments, she reflected, was not for outsiders, and she, though she loved both of them and respected Barrett, was an outsider here. Besides, it was time something was done for Julia, and Julia was her friend, so it was up to her to help her, whatever Stephen and Vangie had planned. Quietly, so as not to disturb them, she picked up Stephen's empty glass, turned on her heel and slipped quickly from the room.