Evil Unearthed: Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-nine

When Stephen woke, a stray bird had just begun its early morning canticle, and the woman he loved, he saw with relief, still lay beside him. He had dreamed several confused dreams during the night, but they all had one thing in common: they all involved Vangie being taken away from him in some catastrophe. She either fell from one of the chateau's towers, was drowned in the high tides of the channel, or was pushed by an unseen figure from the precipitous headland which faced the open sea, and plunged, screaming his name, to the jagged rocks below. Now that she lay warm and real beside him, he knew that they had only been dreams, but a part of him wondered if they were also warnings, so it was with a tone of urgency in his voice that he said:

"Vangie! We have to get up!"

"No," said the Conjure Woman sleepily. "No, Kat! Don't do it!"

"Evangeline!" Stephen was frightened that she had fallen into a trance, but at the sound of her full name spoken with a priest's authority, she woke at last and immediately remembered the business they were to be about this morning.

"I am going to wear my robes for the burial," she said. "You may dress as you will," and quickly dawning her street clothes, she hurried from the room without another word.

Stephen debated with himself about what his duty was in this instance. Was he a Catholic priest, the Conjure Woman's partner in her faith's mysteries, Vangie Abbott's lover or Barrett's grieving friend and former student? He decided that it really didn't matter much what he called himself; the fact was that he was attending the burial of his friend, and that friend had asked him to attend him in his priestly office. So, the matter now settled, he dressed in full priest's garb, took his censor and crucifix, and found the prayers for a burial in his breviary. Then, he walked across the hall to Barrett's room, and there he found the door already open and Vangie waiting for him.

"Requiescat in pace," she said, turning from the sheeted form on the bed.

"I'm supposed to say that," Stephen managed with a tight smile.

"Indeed you are, Fr. Dawson, but first, we two must turn pall-bearers for a time," and she cradled Barrett's head and shoulders in her arms while Stephen took his legs. He was surprised at how light the body was to carry, but, he reflected, Barrett had always been thin, and with the disease he had been fighting, he must have lost even more weight. Still, he found it difficult to think of his professor, the man he admired for going beyond mere text-book learning and for being a true spiritual warrior, as a weakened and feeble old man who had resorted to such a cowardly act as suicide. Still, it was what it was, he knew, and he now had no choice but to follow through with the burial, even though it might be against the tenets of the Catholic faith. Suicide, that faith said, was a mortal sin, and a person who had committed it could not receive Christian burial. However, Stephen remembered, Barrett wasn't being interred in consecrated ground--or at least, not in ground consecrated to Christ. So, what did it matter whether he did the service or not?

He was about to maneuver his half of the body through the bedroom door, when his eye fell on the serpent-staff in the corner by the bed.

"Should we take that?"

"No," said Vangie. "It will be passed to his successor," and here, she looked at Stephen very directly, so that he had to drop his eyes.

The trip through the house was uneventful, and somehow, they managed to get the body part of the way down the cliff path leading to the dock without breaking any ankles or necks, and then Vangie directed them along another path which cut through some dense foliage along the top of one of the terraced cliffs. Stephen saw cave-mouths gaping in the cliff-wall above them, and he wondered if any of them led to the cave where Vangie had sheltered during her strange and wild existence after her false death. Soon, that cliff began to change into a lower hill, and there before them lay what must be the grave of the worshippers of the serpent. It was a plot of ground surrounded by a wall of living green, and they had to push their way through this mass of vines and creepers to enter.

"Not much of the clearing is left," said Vangie. "Quito used to tend it, but now that he and Raxl are gone, I suppose it has been neglected. Now, lay the body here," and she indicated a spot at the far side of the clearing just under the side of the hill.

"We'll need something to dig with," he said, straightening his back, being now relieved of his burden.

"There's a small shed that the builders left," said Vangie. I'll go and see if I can find a shovel."

Stephen watched as she forced her way through the vines and vanished on the other side of them. He hoped that she would return soon. He didn't like being in this place by himself. The masses of vines made strange shadows on the ground in this early dawn light, and though some birds were up and about, a hush hung about this place. Even the sea seemed muffled here. Death felt very near to him, and though the morning was not chilly, there was a chill in this place. He pondered what it could mean, but decided that it was not the chill of evil which haunted him this time, but the chill of years upon years, the chill of ancient and long-departed souls which seemed to crowd in upon him. There were no stones nor markers of any kind to indicate that this was a domain of the dead, and yet it was marked as surely as if it had been surrounded by a grove of yew-trees and a wrought-iron fence. This, he thought, was where Robert Barrett would be laid to rest, and as he pondered this momentous idea, he realized that it was right. No Catholic church would allow him to be buried within its graveyard walls, and Stephen couldn't imagine that fate for such a man as Barrett anyhow. His act of suicide might be classified as a mortal sin in his native faith, but Stephen knew why he had done it, and he thought that no act of love could have been more Christlike in that particular moment and in these particular circumstances. So, he would say the burial service without shame, but he would also try his best to be truly present for whatever burial rites the Conjure faith demanded.

He jumped as the vines were thrust aside once more, and there was Vangie, leaning heavily on a spade that she had found.

"There was nothing in the shed," she said, "but there is a small building buried in that overgrown garden. So, we now have everything we need. I'll dig the grave."

Stephen looked at her carefully and noticed that she was extremely pale.

"No," he said, "I think I'd better do it. Is something wrong?"

"Our time is coming, Stephen," said the Conjure Woman, handing him the shovel and seating herself a little way up the hill. "The evil is growing, and we've all been through a lot this night. You're right. I can't dig the grave and still have energy to perform the rite of burial, but it is the custom in my faith for a priest or a priestess to dig the grave for his or her partner.

"Well," said Stephen, "I hope your gods won't mind," and at her direction, he began digging a little away from where the wrapped form which once had been Robert James Barrett now lay. The soil was sandy and easy to dig, and it wasn't long before the blade of the shovel struck rock.

"It's only three feet," said Stephen.

"This island," said Vangie, "grew from a coral reef. Its bones are strong and must be respected. That rock will defeat you if you try to go any deeper. Besides, this will suffice," and with a great effort, she stood up and Stephen helped her to carry the body to the grave.

"Well," he said as they laid the body down, "who should go first?"

"You," she said, and stood back respectfully to let him work.

Stephen began to recite the service, and though there were some moments when he felt overwhelmed, the words and gestures of the ritual took hold of him, and by the time he threw the ceremonial clods of soil into the grave, he felt every inch the priest. What helped him was that whenever a response or an "amen" was required, the soft voice of the Conjure Woman was there, and again he felt as he had when he had done the blessing of the house; the words and gestures had more meaning for him in this moment than they had in a long, long time.

"Thank you," he said, wiping his hands on his cassock. "I feel that I've actually done something here."

"Good, Stephen. Now, it's my turn, and now, you're going to see a ritual that few off-islanders have ever seen before! Robert has gone home to the Great Serpent, and it is an occasion of joy. If others of our faith were here, we would dance and sing. As it is, there will be no dancing, but..." Her voice trailed off and she went to the wall of vines and gathered some fragrant blossoms. Then, pacing slowly around and around the grave, she began to sing. Stephen could not understand the language of the song, but the voice was rich and warm, and the music was joyful if perhaps a little subdued: just like the singer, he thought, and found himself following in Vangie's wake, stepping in time to the lilting melody while the Conjure Woman threw flowers onto Barrett's sheeted corpse.

"What does the song mean?" Stephen was filling in the grave while Vangie reclined on the side of the hill and gazed quietly at the brightening sky. "Can you tell me?"

"I'll do my best," she said, and with a lilt in her voice, she began. "May you be free of the flesh that enfolded you! May you rest from the body's burdens and fly to the far and fair fields of forever! Human life is hard, but death is the dawning of a new day!"

"That is beautiful! I didn't know you were a poet!"

"Those words are very ancient, Stephen. I did not compose them. Death is the doorway to new life. Isn't that what your creed teaches?"

"Yes, in a way," said Stephen, "but what do you mean by it?"

"Partly, we mean that death is new life for the spirit which is freed from the body's clutching grasp. However, this is an ideal. We also believe that reincarnation is possible. A spirit may choose it for him or herself, or those greater than we humans can command that the spirit return to be perfected further."

"Do you think Barrett will come back?"

"I cannot see so far, Stephen. I only tell you what my beliefs teach."

"So, we're really just going to leave him here?"

"This is sacred ground, and he has been interred with the rites of two powerful faiths, and when we're finished here, he will be truly free, as will this entire island, of the curse we're fighting."

"You really still mean to go on with this?" Stephen tried to bite his tongue rather than voice that thought, but it came rushing out before he could stop it.

"The choice is out of my hands now, Stephen. Do you remember what Kat and I told you about the reason for what happened to you the other night? If Jacques Eloi Des Mondes becomes reincarnated in the world with the knowledge and powers he has gained by his league with the darkness, then his influence will spread far beyond this place. If I allow that to happen without trying my best to stop him, I will be forever forsworn as Conjure Woman, and I will have lived this long time in vain. You too are called to fight this evil, Stephen. Your uncle was destroyed by it, and now--now the one who summoned you here--"

"Don't bring him into it, please! I'm not trying to run out on you, but Vangie, I've noticed your weakness this morning. What's going on?"

"I'm not certain just what is the matter, Stephen, but something unexpected has happened. I simply can't see what it is as yet. I think we need to have a council."

"You talked in your sleep this morning," he said, not wanting to press her but knowing that he could not relent.

"What did I say?" Vangie seemed badly frightened, and her terror was contageous. Till now, he hadn't realized just how much her usual composure was helping him to remain as calm as he had been.

"You were telling Kat not to do something."

"I was--I was elsewhere last night. For me, dream is the doorway to truth, Stephen, and I didn't like the truth I found. However, you're correct. Kat may be in danger. I'd like very much to find her as soon as I can, hence the need for a council."

Stephen blessed the grave of his friend and mentor one last time, and he and Vangie went slowly and without speaking back up to the house. After returning the shovel to where Vangie had found it, they searched the house and the grounds, but Kat was nowhere to be seen.

"Her bed hasn't been slept in," said Vangie after coming from the tower room. "Did you find her in the garden?"

"No," said Stephen, "but I was in the library, and something was odd. Do you recall the state of the library as you last saw it?"

"Of course! It was all-but destroyed by that devil."

"Exactly," said Stephen, "but just now, I found the furniture all righted, the glass restored to the cabinets, and piles of papers stacked neatly on a table. What do you make of that?"

"I need to see it for myself! Come on!" Stephen did not want to go back into that room again, but as Vangie set off down the hall, he had no choice but to follow her.

"This place smells of evil," were Vangie's only words upon entering the now neat and efficient room, but when she saw the papers on the table, she gasped and her eyes grew wide.

"What? What is it?" Stephen was alarmed to say the least. "They're just Barrett's notes about the history of this house, aren't they? They talk about the fact that the current building is placed on the ruins of some ancient palace, I think."

"That's correct," said Vangie, recovering herself. "The ones who lived in that palace were priest-kings, though by the time of my father and of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes, they had died out and the palace lay in ruins. Des Mondes learned of the legend that this was a seat of great power, though he never knew where the power lay."

"That was it," said Stephen, moving to peer over her shoulder, "but there was speculation among these historians that a temple or sacred shrine lay under this house."

"They were correct, as you know."

"Do you think the caves are really the only way to get to the temple now?"

"I told you that there was once an entrance connected to the house," said Vangie. "The whole truth is that this entrance was connected to the Desmond family crypt via a tunnel and a secret door. However, there is a lot of rubble down there. I can't see that entrance being very accessible."

"You've been down there?"

"I have, and so has Kat," said Vangie, with an enigmatic look on her face which turned his blood cold.

"But you didn't tell her about this door, did you? And what makes you think that Kat would have read these notes? She didn't want to set foot in that temple after that--that vision she had. Right? You're not telling me everything!"

"I'm sorry, Stephen," Vangie said with a sigh. "I'm not trying to hide things from you. I'll try to tell you what I'm feeling. I saw in a dream tonight that Kat was open to the influence of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes's spirit."

"But she banished him before," said Stephen.

"Yes, with my help," said Vangie, "but I may have led her to believe something that wasn't true. I began to tell her that she had the ability to direct any power which came her way, but I was not able to tell her that this does not mean that all power is good or even neutral. I fear she may seek power somewhere, and that Jacques Eloi Des Mondes wants her to be under his influence even more now than he did before."

"Does he want her to kill herself like--like Barrett?"

"I only wish I knew for certain, Stephen. All I do know is that she knows that the temple is the source of great power, and judging by the state of this room, I think she'll have some help to find her way through the blocked door. Whatever is going on, I think that you and I should go down to the crypt and see what is going on for ourselves."

Stephen had never yet seen the Desmond family crypt, but he had read about it in his uncle's journal. It had been the site of a strange funeral service which was not, in fact, a burial, because the corpse in question was never committed to the elements.

"While I have officiated at services where the corpse was to be entombed in a crypt or a mausoleum," he wrote, "I have never done so where the corpse was being preserved against the normal effects of death. I may have recited the 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust' passage, but I knew that there was at least one person in the room who challenged both its physical truth and its spiritual comfort. Jean Paul Desmond intends to resurrect his wife himself, and he has admitted to me that the only reason he wanted me here at all was so that his sister-in-law Alison's concerns about giving Erica Christian rites of burial would be mollified. I have begun to hate that crypt, and for more reasons than I can write here. It seems to hide more than it reveals or displays, rather like its owner."

"My uncle wrote that he hated the crypt," said Stephen, as he and the Conjure Woman descended the stairs from the great hall. "Do you know why?"

"We all began to hate the crypt after a while," was all Vangie's answer.

"Well," said Stephen as they approached the archway at the bottom of the age-worn steps, "after you, I suppose," and Vangie went ahead of him with a flashlight she had found among the tools in the old garden shed.

"Something is very wrong here," she said with a gasp, and Stephen came forward. "There are coffins and rubble," said Stephen, looking around the walls and floor, "and is that--?" He looked at a metallic box which he thought would fit a human being standing upright against a wall. "Is that the capsule?"

"It is," said Vangie, "but it has been moved. What is more, the rubble that was where it stands now would have been impossible for a strong man to move without special equipment."

"And the only other people in this house are women," said Stephen. "This thing looks very heavy. I don't even think that you and I together could move it very far."

"No," said Vangie, "but we would have to move it if we were to access the door to the temple. Though it used to need Quito's strength to open it even if we could."

"So what are we to make of all this? Has someone blocked us from getting to the temple?"

"I fear it's worse than that, Stephen. Someone has gone into the temple and has stopped us from following them."

"But why?"

"That's what we're going to find out. We'll have to go through the caves after all," and casting a final look at the squarely-solid form of the capsule as though she might melt it, Vangie turned and walked away, the beam of her flashlight casting her shadow behind her like a black cloak.