Evil Unearthed: Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-three

The dishes were washed and put away in a trice, and before long, the three companions were sitting in Kathleen's office, one chair remaining conspicuously empty. Stephen found himself looking to where Barrett should have been sitting and remembering the night of their arrival here. There the venerable professor had sat, large as life, but even then, he supposed, the evil was eating at his old friend. Even then? He could not believe that their last meeting in here had only been two nights before, but it was true. He could see the afternoon sun bathing both sky and sea in a shower of gold and was amazed to think that when that gold was gone, it would only be his third night in this place. He felt as though he had been a denizen of its chambers and passageways for years beyond numbering.

"Stephen? Are you alright?" Vangie laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he said, "but I just can't believe that so much has happened in so short a time! We've only been here for barely three days!"

"Yes," said Vangie, "but a lot can happen in three days, and even more in a single night! The darkness has now touched all of us. It almost claimed Robert, but he is past its influence now."

"And Kat? What about her? Is she past its influence?" Stephen looked at the woman now seated behind her desk. She looked every inch the friend he had come to rely on, but he could not forget what he had seen in the temple, and an emotion now boiled inside him when he looked at her for which he could not at first account. However, as he gazed at her now, seated across from the woman he loved, he knew what it was: anger. He was angry that she had dared to harm Vangie, even though he knew that she had not been herself when doing it. Still, he also knew that what he had witnessed in the temple was no mere possession. She had courted the power which had almost consumed her, and he needed to understand why if he was going to trust her again.

"You're angry, Stephen," said Vangie.

"And you have a habit of stating the obvious," he said. "I have to understand what happened here! You said we need to trust each other, Vangie. Well, how can I trust someone who allowed that--that darkness to touch you, almost to kill you?"

"You're right, Stephen," said Kathleen. "I did allow it to use me. I played right into the devil's hands. All I can say is that now that I know the truth of things, I won't let that happen again if I can help it. I would give my life for any of you, and for Julia most of all, and Julia's why we're all here, right?"

"Right," said Vangie. "And while we're all confessing, let me just say that I have not told you all of what I have been sensing. However, with no pun intended, I think it's time I laid all my cards on the table."

"What more could there be?" Stephen was at a loss to imagine anything worse than had already occurred.

"The devil means to kill me," said Vangie, "and in no uncertain terms. He has already tried to use Robert and now Kat for that purpose. He seems to consider you, Stephen, of little account, or rather, he seeks to make you believe this yourself. You must not underestimate yourself or your efficacy. I truly believe that your exorcism of Julia Desmond will save us all."

"Well," said Stephen, "I've been thinking about that. Uncle Matt's journal says that there was a medical laboratory somewhere in this house."

"That's so," said Vangie. "Dr. Carr, Erica Desmond's sister, used it, and before her, it belonged to Dr. Menken, who was a personal physician to Jean Paul and his wife, but what could you want with it?"

"Well," said Stephen, "we might need a way to subdue Julia's body if Erica's spirit tries to make it--well--do something dangerous. Perhaps we could find a drug or something in there, if the place still exists. Do you know anything about it, Kat?"

"Bill Temple would have been the one to ask, I'm afraid. I myself have never seen anything like a lab, but then, I've never toured the entire unfinished part of the house either."

"Well," said Vangie, "the lab was located on the way down to the crypt. There is plywood and such where the passage off the landing was, so I bet the passage itself is nothing but rubble. Still, we could perhaps find the lab from the outside and see if any of it is still intact."

"Then that's what at least one of us has to do as soon as we can," said Stephen.

"I'll do it," said Kat. "It's the least I can do, after all. But when do we do all this exorcising? What are we waiting for?"

"I was hoping for a sign," said Vangie, "and I have now received it. I know that this is the course we should take. After what happened in the temple, I'm certain we are doing the right thing. Besides, I don't think Julia's body can take much more of the strain of Erica's presence, and I fear that worse will happen to her if Erica keeps the door open, as it were. I believe that Jacques would want a mother for his reincarnated child-self who would be every bit as diabolical as he is. So, while Erica chips away at Julia's body and soul, the true devil, the thing whose sign is the mark you saw on the altar of the temple, draws ever closer. Stephen will be exorcising Julia, while it will be my job to confront the power which has cursed this island for centuries. First, however, Julia must be saved, and all three of us will have to be involved in that."

"Should we get her to the temple? You seem to have access to great power there," said Stephen.

"No," said Vangie, "I think the exorcism should be done in the great hall. As for me, I need no temple now," and for the briefest of glimpses, he saw the familiar radiance begin to dawn upon her countenance again.

"Make no mistake, Stephen," she continued. "None of us will come out of this without being changed in some way, and there is still the prophesy of my death on Maljardin with which to contend."

"I suppose," said Stephen, "but I just can't believe in fatalistic warnings like that. They don't make sense to me!" Even as he said this, however, he was aware again of the ancient cave-man part of himself which cried out in terror for what could be the impending and inevitable loss of his new-found beloved. What was more, he knew somehow that Vangie was also aware of his fears.

"So," he said, recovering his composure despite all the danger and worry, "I suppose it's best to hedge our bets. If we can find some sort of drug to calm Julia's body down, then perhaps it will be easier to exorcise Erica's spirit from her."

"It may well be," said Vangie, "but I fear another thing, and it concerns you, Kathleen."

"Me? But I told you I wouldn't--"

"No. I don't mean that your resolve or your loyalty are in question, Kat. I mean that you too are a sensitive, and if Erica's spirit is desperate for an anchor to keep her in this world, she may turn to you."

"I won't let her take me," said Kathleen. "That's all there is to it!" Stephen had to admire this boldness of spirit in her, but still, he knew that he had to talk to her before all hell literally broke loose.

"I have to tell you both that this will not be easy," he said. "It will be even harder because I have never performed an exorcism before. I'll need both of you completely on-side for this, and Kat, you're going to have to be my window into Julia's personality. Still, you'll have to be careful. If this is indeed the devil we're dealing with, then lies will be mixed with the truth and he'll try to attack everyone present by means of psychological manipulation. I wish we had a psychiatrist with us! I know I spoke about drugs before, but none of us really knows anything about them! We could do some real damage!" Already he was having second thoughts about his plan.

"Still," said Vangie, "I think it can't hurt to have something on hand. I still believe that the laboratory could prove useful."

The council went on for some minutes more, Stephen's gaze flitting from face to face of the two women seated in the room with him. Vangie was beautiful and brave, a woman to be admired but also to be feared. She had access to powers at which he could only guess, and what was more, she wanted him to learn about them for himself. Even despite his fears, however, he knew her to be a strong person and able to cope with whatever might come as a result of the exorcism and whatever might come after. Kathleen, on the other hand, was now an unknown. Ever since she had hurt Vangie under the influence of that evil force which she herself had called into her, he found that he was not able to trust her. He knew this was a weakness in himself, but he knew still more that if he did not have things out with her now, he would never be able to put his fears about her to rest. Accordingly, when Vangie disbanded the council and went off to her room for some much-needed sleep, he stayed behind and watched while she went through what appeared to be a habitual rite of tidying and organizing her office. Only when it was finished did she notice his presence.

"I suppose you want to talk," she said. "I think I could find us a little wine or something."

"Whatever you can find will be very welcome," said Stephen as she went off down the passage.

As he sat puzzling over how to begin this conversation, he suddenly heard a woman's step, though it seemed to be coming too soon to be that of Kathleen. Still, who else could it be? Vangie had most definitely retired for the night.

"Ah, Professor Dawson!" said a cooingly-sweet voice from the doorway behind him, "or is it Father Stephen?"

"I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours," he said, turning around to face the regal and somehow deadly form of Julia Desmond. She was gaunt and her eyes were sunken. She looked every inch the possessed victim, but latent within those sleep-deprived orbs was a terrible force, the same force which had thrown Vangie around the temple like a rag doll.

"Oh come now! Don't be coy! You and I shouldn't be distant with one another, not after what we've shared," and suddenly, as though he had been struck, the memory of the dream which was not a dream came back to him. He recalled the false Vangie's caresses and the shock of being thrust out of his own body by the spirit of Jacques Eloi Des Mondes, and what was worse, as he looked at Julia's body with Erica's spirit mastering it, he felt himself pulled into an intense whirlwind of mad sensuousness. The only thing which saved him was the thought of the real Vangie, Vangie who had lain with him lovingly and without malice the night before.

"I'm not going to play games anymore, Erica Desmond!" he suddenly shouted in her face.

"Your uncle's very tone of voice and turn of phrase!" said Erica. "What fond memories I have of them! So you truly mean to go through with your plan, do you? I would have thought that Professor Bartlet's--I mean Barrett's death would have dissuaded you!"

"More fool you are," said Kathleen, suddenly appearing, a bottle of Scotch and two glasses in her hands. "You won't be allowed to keep Julia for much longer!"

"And what about you? Didn't you like the power we gave you?"

"It left a bad taste in my mouth," Kathleen said ruefully. "Now kindly leave, or come in if you're coming! Ah! What's the matter? Can't step over the threshold?" Indeed, Stephen saw the effort clearly on Julia's face as Erica's spirit tried to make her body step into the office but was unable to do so.

"You and your beads and your bells," said Erica, spitting the words out of Julia's mouth at Stephen. "We'll deal with you yet, Dawson, as we dealt with your uncle!" And without another word, the tall figure turned and swept past Kathleen and away to some other part of the house.

"Damn! I'm sick to death of all this!" He could feel his face tightening and reddening with every word, but he was unable to curb the anger now welling out of him like an all-consuming conflagration. "It's enough! I'll see her dead if it kills me!"

"Remember, though," said Kathleen, pouring the liquor with a shaking hand, "she's not really Erica."

"Of course," said Stephen, "just like you weren't really you in the temple. Right? You could have killed Vangie, you know!"

"I admit," said Kathleen, offering him his glass, tears beaded on her eyelids, "that I willfully asked for the power to come to me, but once it did, I was helpless against it. A part of me saw what was happening and wanted to stop it! You have to believe me, Stephen! I'm with you now! I am!"

"I hope so!" He paced around the office while Kathleen stood silently, taking slow, contemplative sips of her drink from time to time. He knew she was ashamed of herself and he knew he had to stop riding her, but he couldn't help feeling a deep sense of betrayal. First Barrett had not been the man Stephen thought he was, and then Kathleen had seemed to switch sides before his very eyes. However, it was himself he was most worried about. How could he be sure that he was strong enough for the coming battle? If everyone else was succumbing and he had already been used by the dark things in this house, what would prevent them from using him again? He suddenly found himself shaking with sobs; he cried for Barrett, for his uncle Matt, and suddenly he thought of Bill Temple, his face contorted in utter pain and terror even in death, and he cried for him. All these people had been caught in the web of evil which stretched back in time over three-hundred years into the past and beyond the confines of the physical world. Suddenly, he knew beyond any doubt that on Maljardin he was the thing he had always tried not to be: an unenlightened cave-dweller who started at shadows and had yet to discover the primal and sacred fire which would be his assurance against the ever-encroaching darkness.

Overcome by his fear and grief, he sank down in a chair and soon, a slight hand was on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for all that has happened to you, Stephen," said Kathleen softly. "I should never have brought you into this!"

"You didn't," he said. "a man named William Patrick Temple did. When he died, I felt an evil presence with me in the room. You know that. It was me who decided to come here. We all made our choices."

"Vangie would say it was our destiny."

"Still, any one of us could have decided not to be involved. We might have hated ourselves for it, but we could have said no."

"I'm so sorry," repeated Kathleen.

"Then," he said, turning to look at her, will you tell me why you--why you did it? What made you go looking for that power in the temple?"

"It's--it's complicated," said Kathleen. "He--Jacques--talked to me. He--showed me visions, Stephen, and believe me or not, it seems that I'm the reincarnation of a servant-girl in Jacques's household. He made me believe that Vangie was the enemy. That vision I had in the garden was really--well--a kind of memory."

"Are you saying that he made you believe that Vangie killed you in a past life?" Stephen was incredulous.

"No," said Kathleen with slow emphasis. "That part is true."

"What? But how?"

"My former incarnation was a willing victim, Stephen, but Jacques made me think that Vangie had done it out of malice or worse, with no emotion at all."

"But how could you trust him? Don't you remember what--what he did to me?"

"It wasn't a question of trust exactly. I admit that the power seduced me, Stephen. I have no other explanation, but Vangie helped me to see the whole truth. I'm finished with such things forever. You have to believe me!"

"I do," he said, sighing deeply. "I do. It's just that nothing makes sense anymore."

"Strange," Kathleen mused. "For me, things are becoming all too clear," and after finishing her scotch and collecting his now-empty glass, she walked out and left him to his thoughts.

He continued to sit, silent and unmoving, until the night had come in earnest. Outside the window of Kathleen's office, he could see a star-dappled sky with not a cloud in sight, and somewhere above the headland of the island, one star seemed to pulsate in a slow heart's rhythm, and as he gazed at it, he thought he could hear the beating of some vast and ancient heart, as though the very island were a living thing. Was it really there? Surely he was imagining it, but then why was the goose-flesh creeping up his arms and why was a red-hot band of iron beginning to tighten around his chest? Something was definitely wrong here. He tried to whisper a prayer but found himself unable to form the words with his lips. His mind was still clear, but he felt the light of that ill-omened star burning into it and beginning to overwhelm it in a sea of sorcerous luminosity. With all his might, he called out in his mind for Vangie. He wanted to let her rest, but he knew he was not equipped to fight this evil by himself. He felt as he had felt after performing the Last Rites for Bill Temple, and even then, she had come to him and helped him. Would she do so now? The heartbeat grew louder and louder in his ears and it seemed to entice him with its soothingly-fatal consistency. There was purpose in it; There was drive. No qualms or scruples could stop it from doing what it willed. This he somehow knew and he longed for such singleness of mind.

"Give in," it seemed to repeat. "Give in! Give in! Give in!" and he was just on the point of doing so when he felt himself jerked awake by a muscle spasm and saw a shadowy figure standing over him.

"My will is yours," he heard himself saying in a thick voice but he didn't know to whom he was addressing this statement.

"Stephen Matthew Dawson," came Vangie's authoritative voice, "do not say that again! Your will is your own! It does not belong to that heart of darkness!"

"What? What was I saying?" He shifted in his chair and only now realized how dark the room had become when Vangie, now seeing him properly awake, turned on the overhead light.

"I felt the assault," she said. "The power we array ourselves against was trying to mesmerize you."

"Can you hear the heartbeat? It seemed so loud in my--my dream or trance or whatever it was, and there was--a star as well. Can you see it?"

"Whether I see it or not, it is there," said Vangie, "and so is the heartbeat whether or not I hear it. It pumps malicious poison through the halls of this house and infects the very island with its evil. Now, I think you should come with me." And taking him gently by the hand, she made him stand up and led him like a child to his room. This time, however, she did not come to his bed, nor did he invite her. It was as though they both instinctively knew that this was not a night for dalliance. She did, however, lay a cool hand on his forehead in blessing, and immediately, it was as though a weight had been lifted from him.

"Goodnight, Stephen," she said softly as he felt his eyes closing.

"Goodnight, Evangeline," he responded, feeling the need to use her full name as Barrett had done. "Sleep well!"

"You two," she said. "I think I can promise that you will have no more dreams tonight."

"Goodnight then," he said and lay still, listening to her retreating steps and the almost-imperceptible closing of his bedroom door as she left him. Then there was blessed silence, and in that silence, he at last fell deeply asleep.