The Devil Rides Out (39 page)

‘I hardly know,' he gasped out. ‘She got me along because she was scared stiff of that swine Mocata. I couldn't call you up this afternoon and later when I tried your line was blocked, but I had to stay with her. We were going to pass the night together in the parlour, but around midnight she left me and then–oh, God! I fell asleep.'

‘How long did you sleep for?' asked Richard quickly.

‘Several hours, I reckon. I was about all in after yesterday, but the second I woke I dashed up to her room and she was, dressed as she is now–lying asleep, I figured–in an armchair. I tried to wake her but I couldn't. Then I got real scared–grabbed hold of her–and beat it down those stairs six at a time. You've just no notion how frantic I was to get out of that place and next thing I knew–I saw your light and came bursting in here. She–she's not dead, is she?'

‘Oh, Rex, you poor darling,' Marie Lou stammered as she chafed Tanith's cold hands. ‘I–I'm afraid—'

‘She isn't–she can't be!' he protested wildly. ‘That fiend's only thrown her into a trance or something.'

Richard had taken a little mirror from Marie Lou's bag. He held it against Tanith's bloodless lips. No trace of moisture marred its surface. Then he pressed his hand beneath her breast.

‘Her heart's stopped beating,' he said after a moment. ‘I'm sorry, old chap, but–well, I'm afraid you've got to face it.'

‘The old-fashioned tests of death are not conclusive,' Simon whispered to the Duke. ‘Scientists say now that even arteries can be cut and fail to bleed, but life still remains in the body. They've all come round to the belief that we're animated by a sort of atomic energy–call it the soul if you like–and that the body may retain that vital spark without showing the least sign of life. Mightn't it be some form of catalepsy like that?'

‘Of course,' De Richleau agreed. ‘It has been proved time and again that the senses are only imperfect vessels for collecting impressions. There is something else which can see when the eyes are closed and hear while the body is being painlessly cut to ribbons under an anaesthetic. All the modern experimenters agree that there are many states in which the body is not wholly alive or wholly dead, but I fear there is little hope in this case. You see
we know that Mocata used her as his catspaw, so the poor girl has been forced to pay the price of failure. I haven't a single doubt that she is dead.'

Rex caught his last words and swung upon him frantically. ‘God! This is frightful. I—I tried to kid myself but I think I knew it the moment I picked her up. Her prophecy's come true then.' He passed his hands over his eyes. ‘I can't quite take it in yet–this and all of you seem terribly unreal–but is she
really
dead? She was so mighty scared that if she died some awful thing might remain to animate her body.'

‘She is dead as we know death,' said Richard softly. ‘So what could remain?'

‘I know what he means,' the Duke remarked abruptly. ‘He is afraid that an elemental may have taken possession of her corpse. If so drastic measures will be necessary.'

‘No!' Rex shook his head violently. ‘If you're thinking of cutting off her head and driving a stake through her heart, I won't have it. She's mine, I tell you–mine!'

‘Better that than the poor soul should suffer the agony of seeing its body come out of the grave at night to fatten itself on human blood,' De Richleau murmured. ‘But there are certain tests, and we can soon find out. Bring her over here.'

Simon and Richard lifted the body and carried it over to the mat of sheets and blankets in the centre of the pentacle, while De Richleau fiddled for a moment among his impedimenta.

‘The Undead,' he said slowly, ‘have certain inhibitions. They can pass as human, but they cannot eat human food and they cannot cross running water except at sunset and sunrise. Garlic is a most fearsome thing to them, so that they scream if only touched by it, and the Cross, of course, is anathema. We will see if she reacts to them.'

As he spoke he took the wreath of garlic flowers from round his neck and placed it about Tanith's. Then he made the sign of the Cross above her and laid his little gold crucifix upon her lips.

The others stood round, watching the scene with horrified fascination. Tanith lay there, calm and still, her pale face shadowed by the golden hair, her tawny eyes now closed under the heavy, blue-veined lids, the long, curved eyelashes falling upon her cheeks. She had the look of death and yet, as De Richleau set about his grim task, it seemed to them that her eyelids might flicker open at any moment. Yet, when the garlic flowers were draped upon her, she remained there cold and immobile, and when the little crucifix was laid upon her lips she showed no consciousness of it, even by the twitching of the tiniest muscle.

‘She's dead, Rex, absolutely dead,' De Richleau stood up again. ‘So, my poor boy, at least your worst fears will not be realised. Her soul has left her body but no evil entity has taken possession of it. I am certain of that now.'

A new hush fell upon the room. Tanith looked, if possible, even more beautiful in death than she had in life, so that they marvelled at her loveliness. Rex crouched beside her, utterly stricken by this tragic ending to all the wonderful hopes and plans which had seethed in his mind the previous afternoon after she had told him that she loved him. He had known her by sight for so long, dreamed of her so often, yet having gained her love a merciless fate had deprived him of it after only a few hours of happiness. It was unfair. Suddenly he buried his face in his hands, his great
shoulders shook, and for the first time in his life he gave way to a passion of bitter tears.

The rest stood by him in silent sympathy. There was nothing that they could say or do. Marie Lou attempted to soothe his anguish by stroking his rebellious hair, but he jerked his head away with a quick angry movement. Only a few hours before, in those sunlit woods, Tanith had run her fingers through his curls again and again during the ecstasy of the dawning of their passion for each other, and the thought that she would never do so any more filled him with the almost unbearable grief and misery.

After a while the Duke turned helplessly away and Simon, catching his eye, beckoned him over towards the open window out of earshot from the others. The seemingly endless night still lay upon the garden, and now a light mist had arisen. Wisps of it were creeping down the steps from the terrace and curling into the room. De Richleau shivered and refastened the windows to shut them out.

‘What is it?' he asked quickly.

‘I–er–suppose there
is
no chance of her being made animate again?' hazarded Simon.

‘None. If there had been anything there it would never have been able to bear the garlic and the crucifix without giving some indication of its presence.'

‘I wasn't thinking of that. The vital organs aren't injured in any way as far as we know, and
rigor mortis
has not set in yet. I felt her hand just now and the fingers are as flexible as mine.'

De Richleau shrugged. ‘That makes no difference.
Rigor mortis
may have been delayed for a variety of reasons but she will be as stiff as a board in a few hours' time just the same. Of course her state does resemble that of a person who has been drowned, in a way, but only superficially; and if you are thinking that we might bring her back to life by artificial respiration I can assure you that there is not a chance. It would only be a terrible unkindness to hold out such false hopes to poor Rex.'

‘Ner–you don't see what I'm driving at.' Simon's dark eyes flickered quickly from De Richleau's face to the silent group in the centre of the pentagram and then back again. ‘No ordinary doctor could do anything for her, I know that well enough; but since her body is still in the intermediate stage there
are
a few people in this world who could, and I was wondering if you—'

‘What!' The Duke started suddenly then went on in a whisper: ‘Do you mean that I should try and bring her back?'

‘Um,' Simon nodded his head jerkily up and down. ‘If you know the drill–and you seem to know so much about the great secrets, I thought it just on the cards you might?'

De Richleau looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘I know something of the ritual,' he confessed at length, ‘but I have never seen it done, and in any case it's a terrible responsibility.'

At that moment there was a faint sighing as the breeze rippled the leaves of the trees out in the garden. Both men heard it and they looked at each other questioningly.

‘Her soul can't be very far away yet,' whispered Simon.

‘No,' the Duke agreed reluctantly. ‘But I don't like it, Simon. The dead are not meant to be called back. They do not come willingly. If I attempt this and succeed it would only be by the force of incredibly powerful
conjurations which the soul dare not disobey, and we are not justified in taking such steps. Besides, what good could it do? At best, I should not be able to bring her back for more than a few moments.'

‘Of course I know that; but you still don't seem to get my idea,' Simon went on hurriedly. ‘As far as Rex is concerned, poor chap, she's gone for good and all, but I was thinking of Mocata. You were hammering it into us last night for all you were worth that it's up to us to destroy him before he has the chance to secure the Talisman. Surely this is our opportunity. In Tanith's present physical state her spirit can't have gone far from her body. If you could bring it back for a few moments, or even get her to talk, don't you see that she'll be able to tell us how best to try and scotch Mocata. From the Astral plane, where she is now, her vision and insight are limitless, so she'll be able to help us in a way that she never could have done before.'

‘That's different,' De Richleau's pale face lit up with a tired smile. ‘And you're right, Simon. I have been under such a strain for the past few hours that I had forgotten the thing that matters most of all. I would never consent to attempt it for any other purpose, but to prevent suffering and death coming to countless millions of people we are justified in anything. I'll speak to Rex.'

Rex nodded despondently, numb now with misery, when the Duke had explained what he meant to try to do. ‘Just as you like,' he said slowly. ‘It won't hurt in any way, though–I mean her soul–will it?'

‘No,' De Richleau assured him. ‘In the ordinary way it might. To recall the soul of a dead person is to risk interfering with their
karma,
but Tanith has virtually been murdered and, although it is not the way of the spirit to seek revenge against people for things which may have happened in this life, it is almost a certainty that she is actually wanting to come back for just long enough to tell us how to defeat Mocata, because of her love for you.'

‘All right then,' Rex muttered, ‘only let's get it over with as quickly as we can.'

‘I'm afraid it will take some time,' De Richleau warned him, ‘and even then it may not be successful, but the issues at stake are so vital, you must try and put aside your personal grief for a bit.'

He began to clear the pentacle of all the things which he had used the previous evening to form protective barriers, the holy water, the little cups, the horseshoes, placing them with the garlic and dried mandrake back in the suitcase. He then took from it seven small metal trays, a wooden platter, and a box of powdered incense; and pouring a little heap of the dark powder on the platter went up to Rex.

‘I'm afraid I've got to trouble you if we're going to see this through.'

‘Trouble away,' said Rex grimly, with a flash of his old spirit. ‘You know I'm with you in anything which is likely to let me get my hands on that devil's throat.'

‘Good.' The Duke took out his pocket knife and held the blade for a moment in the flame of a match. ‘You've seen enough of this business now to know that I don't do anything without a purpose, and I want a little of your blood. I will use my own if you like but yours is far more likely to have the desired effect, since you felt so strongly for this poor girl and she, apparently, for you.'

‘Go ahead.' Rex pulled up his cuff and bared his forearm, but De Richleau shook his head.

‘No. Your finger will do, and it will hardly be more than a pin-prick. I only need a few drops.'

With a swift movement he took Rex's hand and, having made a slight incision in the little finger, squeezed out seven drops of blood on to the incense.

Then he walked over to Tanith and, kneeling down, took seven long golden hairs from her head. Next he proceeded to form the mixture of incense and blood into a paste out of which he made seven cones, in each of which was coiled one of Tanith's long golden hairs.

With Richard's assistance he carefully oriented the body so that her feet were pointing towards the north and drew a fresh chalk circle, just large enough to contain her and the bedding, seven feet in diameter.

‘Now if you will turn your backs, please,' he told them all, ‘I will proceed with the preparation.'

For a few moments they gazed obediently at the book-lined walls while he did certain curious things, and when he bade them turn again he was placing the sevon cones of incense on the seven little metal trays, each engraved with the Seal of Solomon, in various positions round the body.

‘We shall remain outside the circle this time,' he explained, ‘so that the spirit, if it comes, is contained within it. Should some evil entity endeavour to impersonate her soul it will thus be confined within the circle and unable to get at us.'

He lit the seven cones of incense, completed the barrier round about the body with numerous fresh signs, and then, walking over to the doorway, switched out the lights.

The fire was quite dead now, and the candles had never been re-lit, but after a moment, greyness began to filter through the french-windows. The light was just sufficient for them to see each other as ghostly forms moving in the darkness, while the body, lying in the circle, was barely visible, its position being indicated by the seven tiny points of light from the cones of incense burning round it.