Evil Unearthed: Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-eight

The house was very quiet as Kathleen walked through its corridors; though she had noticed the absence of the workmen during the day, it was only now, when the dark of night had crept in, that she realized just how much the flood-lights and machinery had become a part of life here on Maljardin. She suddenly thought that this silence and darkness must have been the true state of things in this house ever since it had been built. The weight of the massive outer walls pressed in upon her, and though there were lights spaced at intervals in the more finished parts of the structure, she found that their beams did not penetrate into every corner or niche, so that she encountered shadows at every turn and found herself longing for the return of the pounding and drilling, if only for the universal illumination that the work-lights provided by shining in at every chink and keyhole.

As she walked, she mused. What could she do to help Julia? She knew that her friend was possessed by a spirit. Too much had already happened for her to doubt this idea, but she herself was not equipped to deal with spirits, or perhaps the self she had been was not so equipped, for the fact was that now she had become someone different. Ever since that night in Vangie's cabin when the Conjure Woman had given her some of her own reserves of strength as a kind of protection, Kathleen had felt in touch with more than what her five senses could perceive. So, what did this mean? Could she not go to Julia and force Erica's spirit to leave her body? Vangie kept advising against this confrontation, but Stephen had come prepared to do an exorcism. Still, it seemed as though Vangie was calling the shots, but Vangie, she thought, wasn't Julia's friend. How could she truly know what was best for her, or how could she know better than Kathleen? Besides, Vangie and Stephen were busy dealing with the apparent suicide of Professor Barrett. She could not abide the sight of death. She wanted to bring life back to this house.

So, she thought as she descended the grand staircase into the great hall, what could she do? Vangie had talked about places of power when they were in the library. She had said that Maljardin was a place of power, and as Kathleen stood in the great hall, she felt her eyes drawn to the portrait of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes, and it was as though she heard his voice in her mind continuing her thoughts. Or was it only in her mind?

"You seek power, do you, Miss O'Dell? Well, what do you think is the source of the power here on Maljardin?"

"I suppose you would say it was you," she found herself saying, as though she was addressing a living man rather than paint on a canvas.

"No no, even I know that I am merely a servant, and what I serve is not, strictly speaking, native to this earth. Come now! Put those Cambridge-educated brains of yours to better use and think!"

"The temple," she said. "The temple of the Serpent! Vangie told me about it!"

"Did you know that there is a door to that temple in this house? Just go to the crypt and look for it. I'm sure you'll find it if you look."

Kathleen couldn't help noticing that the voice--if it truly was a voice and not her own imagination running away with her--was choosing its words very carefully.

"I don't think you know where this door really is," she said.

"Perhaps I do and perhaps I don't, but someone in this house definitely does. I suggest you go back to the library and look at the venerable professor's papers."

"And why should I do anything that you suggest?"

"Do as you please," said the voice, "but if you want to save your friend, you're going to need access to some very special power indeed. Remember, I don't play fair!" and a peel of mocking laughter rang through her mind, and for a moment, she found her eyes locked with the eyes of the portrait and she stood, rigid as a poker, while a montage of visions came thick and fast and the darkness threatened to envelop her again.

She saw Julia and herself as young girls at Cambridge. They were at an annual formal dance, and she saw Julia in the arms of a dashing young man, but his face was hidden from her view. However, during a vigourous twirl in their dancing, the face came clearly into focus amid the crowd, and she saw that it was the face in the portrait. Just as the horror of this was washing over her, this vision was replaced by another. Here, Julia was not present, but she saw herself, dressed in some sort of servant's uniform, bringing a tray to a woman lying in a luxurious bed. She had finely-chiseled features and her skin was the colour of rich mahogany, and she graciously took the tray from the servant-girl's hands and thanked her kindly. It was only after this vision had faded to be replaced by yet another that Kathleen noticed that the woman had spoken French but that she herself had replied in another language, something which sounded musical and lilting, but which she knew that her present self had never heard before.

The next vision was again of the girl who had been carrying the tray, but this time, she was among a crowd of people at an outdoor ritual of some kind. Drums were pounding and people were dancing, and a priest and priestess, both dressed in green and wearing head-dresses of feathers, were bowing and blessing each other and the people. Then, she and another young girl were pulled into the centre of the circle and given a bitter drink. She swooned and was caught by strong arms, but the other girl stood straight and still, and began to speak, and now, Kathleen realized who it was. It was none other than the woman now known as Evangeline Abbott, speaking the prophecy which would come to haunt her whole existence.

"I see the island there across the channel," she said, and she too used that lilting language, "and I know that it is there where I will meet my death. I will die on Maljardin!" Then, she fainted, and the other young girl who was somehow also Kathleen, now recovered from her own faint, went to her and took her hand tenderly.

"Was I her friend?" Kathleen had never believed in reincarnation, but now, she wondered if it might really be something which her soul had experienced.

People tried to pull the young servant-girl from her unconscious companion, but only one succeeded. She was a thin woman, dour and hard-featured and dressed in black, and the young servant-girl clearly recognized her as some sort of authority-figure.

"Come with me, child," the woman said in French. "Leave the girl to her father. You have other duties now," and without another word, the young servant-girl followed the woman away from the clearing where the ritual was taking place.

"Are you sure she'll be alright, Madame Raxl?"

"Don't worry," said the woman. "That girl has been this way ever since she was born. Do you mean to tell me that you've never seen the Conjure Man's daughter have one of her turns?"

"Oh yes," said the servant, "but I've never heard her make a prediction like--like that! Why should she die on Maljardin?"

"Death will come to us all," the woman said. "What does it matter where it happens?" but Kathleen noticed the servant-girl looking hard at the woman, and she knew that the woman was trying to minimize the fear that she too had felt when she had heard that musical and lilting voice speaking those dreadful words.

"Sophie," the woman now said, "you are to forget what Evangeline said in the ritual. Do you understand? You're to forget it!"

"I'll try, Madame Raxl," the girl Sophie said. "I'll try."

"And you're never to speak to her of it either, even if she is your friend."

"Yes, Madame," and Kathleen saw the two of them walking away towards the shore where a boat was awaiting them. However, she did not see them board the boat, because the scene blurred and melted just then, and when it resolved itself, the girl Sophie was lying on the altar of the temple of the serpent on Maljardin and the Conjure Man's daughter was standing over her with a ritual knife made of what looked like bone. Suddenly, the knife was raised and though the girl looked at Evangeline with a beseeching gaze, the other woman stood coldly, her face set in a grim and emotionless mask, and after whispering something which Kathleen could not hear, plunged the knife into the girl's throat, caught the blood in a ceremonial cup, and poured cup after cup into the sacrificial basin which stood near. it was only now that Kathleen realized what she was seeing, and starting, she banished the vision. Before her stood the portrait, looking lifeless and inert, while her mind was anything but restful. Here at last must be the truth of the vision which had frightened her only that morning, and she knew now that Vangie had been correct with all her talk of fate and destiny. She was here to take care of Julia, and she had said that she would give her life if it was necessary, but, she thought, she would not go the way her former self had gone. She would not die at the hands of the woman who had just that evening called her friend, for she realized now that Vangie was more than a mere woman. She was a priestess in a strange and terrifying faith, and she was capable of killing at need, and killing without emotion or regret. What if she felt that she had to kill again? Kathleen wouldn't let herself or Julia be made into an offering. Her only chance was to do what the voice of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes had told her to do. She had to focus on Julia now, and with her mind now open to the power that surrounded her, she was going to find something to prevent Vangie from betraying them all in the name of her people and her faith.

A small part of her was unwilling to take any advice from the spirit who had started all this trouble, but if the voice had only been in her imagination, then she thought, she was only taking advice from herself. So, with unsteady steps and tear-filled eyes, she walked slowly from the hall, and as she left, she heard again the mocking laughter of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes. For a brief moment, all she wanted to do was to find Vangie and Stephen and to tell them all about the visions she had seen, but now, when she thought of Vangie, all she could see was that cold face looking down on her and the knife plunging into her throat. Vangie could not be counted upon, and now Stephen was caught in her web of mysteries. How could a Catholic priest fall in love with someone like her? Kathleen knew that she would have to work hard, but she was determined to free both Julia and Stephen, and to use whatever power was at her disposal to do it. Vangie herself had told her that she was able to direct whatever power came to her. If this was true, then it didn't matter whether she used power defined as good or power defined as evil. It was only power she wanted, power to match Vangie's own and to banish the evil presences from this house, but she was not going to bend to Vangie's will again. All that lay that way, she thought, was bitterness, blood and a sharp knife. She would solve this problem, she decided, as she had solved so many for Julia in the past, and she would do it without the help of the Conjure Woman.