Raga Six (A Doctor Orient Occult Novel) (39 page)

BOOK: Raga Six (A Doctor Orient Occult Novel)
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He pushed himself to his feet.
 

Pia and Julian were drawing farther away. They were almost into the trees.
 

Orient’s legs moved under him as he tried to chase them, but he could only wobble a few steps before his legs stopped, pitching him face down on the grass.
 

He pressed his cheek against the earth and clenched his fist. "Lammia," he gasped. He gritted his teeth against the compelling desire to sleep that was caressing the base of his brain. He lifted his head and repeated the invocation, his sore lungs pressing the words out of his mouth in spasms.
 

But as his head dropped back against the cool moist grass, he knew that no one heard the words of his judgment. Just before he closed his eyes, he saw Pia and Julian disappear among the trees, two wavering lines of color that were abruptly swallowed by the rushing shadows.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 23

 

 

It was at least twenty minutes before Orient could gather enough energy to stand up.
 

He walked slowly, his muscles aching and his spine sagging under his weight. Each step took attention and effort. He tried to clear his panting lungs and regain control of his breathing, but his concentration was shattered. He could only wait for his rapid gasps to subside as he headed for the Via Veneto.
 

When he reached the wide busy street, he wasn’t prepared for the noisy bustle of activity facing him. His physical energy was used up and his body moved only out of response to the blind drive to find shelter. To sit down and have a glass of water before he passed out. He moved down the street carefully, like a man who was slightly drunk. He saw Argyle in a cafe and headed for his table, navigating awkwardly.
 

"What the hell is wrong, Doc?" Argyle said as he half-rose to help Orient into a chair. Orient reached for the glass of orangeade in front of Argyle, gulped it down too quickly and broke into a long spasm of coughing.
 

"What is it, Doc?" Argyle repeated softly. "Are you hurt?"
 

Orient shook his head. "I saw Julian."
 

Argyle grabbed Orient’s wrist. "Where?"
 

"In the park." Orient jerked his head weakly. "Back there."
 

Argyle started to get up. "Maybe we can still find him."
 

"He was with a girl." Orient looked down at his trembling hands. "Someone I know. I couldn’t catch them."
 

Argyle sat down again. "What happened?"
 

"My arms and legs couldn’t function. I couldn’t even walk. They ran out of sight."
 

"How come you couldn’t walk?"

 
Orient looked up and stared at Argyle for a moment before he answered. "It wasn’t natural. Some ultranormal force. Probably the same force that’s blocking our communication with Julian."
 

"This girl you know?"
 

"I think so. She’s a potential. If she’s wielding occult force, she could generate a lot of power."
 

Argyle paused. "Did you teach her the technique, Doc?"
 

"The first phase. But she had difficulty picking it up. She seemed to have some other way of sending."
 

Argyle’s voice was low and edged with anger as he got out of his chair. "What’s she look like?"
 

"Tall. Blond. Her name is Pia."
 

Argyle started to move away, then paused. "I’m going to try to catch them. Don’t tell Sun Girl anything yet. She doesn’t understand much about psychic forces and she’d be terrified. Take her back to your hotel. I’ll meet you later."
 

Orient started to protest, but Argyle moved off, weaving quickly through the cafe tables toward the arched entrance to the park. Orient watched him go and realized he was still too weak to stop him. His friend could be going up against something he couldn’t handle. His temples began to throb as a wave of guilt and exhaustion washed over his thoughts. Pia had control of some force that was extremely powerful. And she’d already shown she could use it to control him. He had killed a man for her.
 

Orient’s hands still hadn’t stopped trembling by the time Raga arrived. As she approached the table, she saw immediately that something was wrong.
 

"Darling, you look ill. Are you coming down with something?" Her husky voice was breathless with concern.
 

"I just saw Julian," Orient said. "With Pia."
 

Raga’s slender white hand dropped into her lap. "I don’t understand."
 

"Pia has Julian. I tried to catch her but I couldn’t."
 

"But Pia’s in Switzerland. Are you sure it was her?"
 

Orient nodded.
 

Raga sat back in her chair. "What would Pia be doing with a little boy?" Orient looked at her. "Did you ever know Pia to be experimenting with the occult?"
 

Her pale lips started to smile, but when she saw that Orient was serious, her yellow eyes widened. "You mean witchcraft and all that?"
 

"Yes."
 

Raga stared at him, still unable to decide whether he was serious. "I don’t know," she said slowly, "but it’s possible. Pia was capable of anything that sounded exciting. Is that what you think?"
 

"I don’t know what to think," Orient said. "I should have gone over Alistar’s papers to make sure." He poured himself a glass of water.
 

Raga noticed his hand shaking as he brought the glass up to his mouth. "Darling, you’re exhausted," she said softly.
 

"It’ll pass," Orient said. "Remember not to mention anything to Sun Girl about this until Argyle gets back."
 

"All right." Raga took a napkin and gently wiped the perspiration from his face. "But I’m worried about you too. This is too much of a strain on you right now."
 

"I’ll be fine in a little while," Orient said. He wasn’t sure. The ebb of vitality he had felt after his agonizing run hadn’t subsided. He took a deep breath and fought the numbness that was stealing over his arms and legs.
 

When Sun Girl arrived, Orient found that it took a concentrated effort to negotiate calling a cab and going up to the hotel suite. No one spoke much on the way home but Orient could see, as tired as he himself was, that Sun Girl was straining to keep calm.
 

As soon as they arrived, Raga called room service for refreshments.
 

"I don’t want anything, thanks," Sun Girl said, attempting to smile.
 

She bit her lip, and turned away quickly.
 

Orient looked at her. Her small face was pinched and pale with tension. The exuberance that was the cornerstone of her expressive beauty had crumbled. Argyle had been right. Sun Girl was on the verge of hysteria. Only the strength of her will was keeping her together.
 

"It’s going to be okay," he said quietly. "Julian is all right."
 

Sun Girl turned to him. "I know, Owen. But it’s a deep thing between Julian and me."
 

Raga sat down and put her arm around Sun Girl’s shoulder. "We won’t give up until we find him." She glanced up at Orient.
 

"That’s right," he said. He tried to smile but it didn’t come off.
 

"He’s so little," Sun Girl blurted. She turned and huddled against Raga, crying softly.
 

Orient stared at his hands and didn’t say anything, knowing that all he could do was just let her cry it out.
 

She was still clinging to Raga when Argyle came in. As he hurried to Sun Girl’s side, he looked questioningly at Orient. Orient shook his head and Argyle nodded, understanding that Orient hadn’t told her anything about Julian.
 

"It’s all right, baby," Argyle said as Sun Girl held on to him, sobbing against his shoulder. "We’re gonna find our Julian. I met someone today who may have a lead."
 

"Who?" Sun Girl looked up wildly. "When can we see them?"
 

Argyle stroked her hair. "Just a few more hours. I’m not sure. But it’s something. Only, you’ve got to calm down, baby."
 

Sun Girl shut her eyes tight and nodded slowly, tears running down each side of her face. "I’ll be okay," she said, clenching her teeth. "I’m sorry."
 

Argyle held her against his chest, rocking her in his arms.
 

Raga came over to Orient’s chair and leaned close to him. She put her hand on his neck. "Are you all right?" she whispered.
 

Orient smiled and put his hand on hers. "I’m fine. Just got winded this afternoon. But I feel better now."
 

Orient wasn’t being entirely candid. If anything, he felt worse than he had a half hour earlier. His heart was pounding and he was still finding it difficult to draw a deep breath.
 

"Are you hungry? Sandwiches and coffee will be up in a few minutes."
 

Orient nodded. "Coffee will probably help."
 

The coffee didn’t help. It was heavy and acidic in his stomach, adding to his discomfort. His hands had stopped trembling but his thoughts were dammed up, squeezing against his brain. He held onto the one fact he felt sure of. Pia was generating the decayed, predatory energy of the presence.
 

"Doc, why don’t we go inside and try to break through again?" Argyle suggested after they’d eaten.

 
"All right." When Orient got to his feet, he found that his legs were still wobbly. When they were alone in the bedroom, Argyle grabbed Orient’s arm. "Listen, Doc, you’ve to tell me all you know about his girl Pia."
 

Argyle’s words broke the dam pressing Orient’s thoughts and they flooded through his brain, drowning out his reason. He sat down heavily in an armchair. He was completely drenched with confusion and guilt. He knew that he couldn’t tell Argyle that he had killed Raga’s husband.
 

"I met her on a boat coming across," Orient said hesitantly. "She’s a potential. I worked with her for a day or two but then something happened."
 

"What?" Argyle prodded.
 

"A girl died. A friend of Pia’s. Then Pia went away with a friend of mine, the boy who shared my cabin. He died too. They both died from a form of negative energy she’s able to generate. I know that now." Orient’s words came slowly and he realized that he wasn’t pronouncing them clearly.
 

Argyle squinted at him, suddenly concerned. "You okay, Doc?"
 

"Just worn out from that run after Pia."
 

"I checked out the whole damn place but there was no sign of a blond with Julian. She must have moved pretty fast to get away from you like that."
 

Orient shook his head. "She slowed me down with some force. I couldn’t take a step to get near her."

 
"And you think it’s an occult force." Argyle said it very carefully, watching Orient’s face.
 

Orient looked up at him. "I know it was. But I don’t know what kind. Unless I can find out it’ll be hard to stop her."
 

"You think she wants to kill Julian?" Argyle’s voice was low.
 

Orient looked away. "I don’t know."
 

"Any way to find out?"
 

"Maybe." Orient got up from the chair and sat on the floor. "I can try going in to absorb some of the force that Pia’s emanating. Try to get some idea of why it exists."
 

"You mean
we
go in and try to absorb the force, don’t you?"
 

"No," Orient said firmly. "You just feed energy behind me and set up a guide factor. Pia knows we’ll try to break through and she’ll set a trap. If we both try together there’s no chance of recovery. And there’ll be no one to help Julian."
 

Argyle sat down on the floor facing him. "Then I’ll go in, Doc. You can feed in the energy. You’re not strong enough right now to risk a trance. Even with a guide factor."
 

Orient nodded. Argyle was right. His vitality was very low. There was no sense risking a trance unless he was strong enough to maintain control. It was a foolish gamble, with pride as the only prize. "All right," he said. "I’ll set up the guide factor. But don’t take any chances at all. This girl is advanced. And she’s a telepath herself."
 

"I’ll remember," Argyle muttered.
 

When Orient began the Yang exercises, he found it extremely difficult to lift and bend his limbs with authority during the first phase of the series. He shut his mind to the aching tiredness and pushed his concentration until his body began to respond and his muscles relaxed. With physical control came an increased ability to control his breathing. It took longer than usual, but when he began the Yang meditative series, his low-energy level had started building up to normal.
 

Orient dug inward, opening his consciousness at the core of his reality, the code gene. He let himself become receptive, then charged active, deliberately propelling the flux of energy pulsing through his universe. When his rhythm of impulse reached the same speed as Argyle’s, the syncopated pulses beveled and their energy merged.
 

Orient leaned all concentration on the flux. Argyle began to generate more speed, separating from their combined rhythm, and Orient suspended, drawn by Argyle’s hurtling energy orbit and soared behind, like the tail of a comet.
 

As Argyle soared free, everything was saturated with the bitter density. It was noxious and moist, a thick presence that immediately dosed in around the impulse and choked him off from Argyle’s speeding energy.
 

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