Chapter 6
The Magus heard the loud voice, but was unable to discern the identity of its owner. First I can't find Gordon, and now I have no idea who is howling out in the street. Was he losing his powers? Or had he angered the Spirit? No, most likely it was something in the natural environment that was interfering with his ability to concentrate.
He donned his red robes and went out to the street. All the apprentices were already out, regarding the visitor with great interest.
"Lucius Fakiri is my name, famed Blind Seer of Budapest, now traveling the United States of America. I know all, may tell all to those of you whose hearts are pure and whose minds are open to receive."
As the Magus strode purposefully down the middle of the street the apprentices dropped to their knees. The object of interest was a bearded man wearing the smoked spectacles that indicated blindness. Behind him was a wagon drawn by two horses with a young woman at the reins.
"Who are you and why are you here?" the Magus asked angrily. He'd always been extremely careful to hide his emotions, but this time was unable to do so. This worried him.
"I exist to open the eyes of the blind! I am physically blind as you see, but I have learned how to see with the mind. I travel all over the world to teach those who are willing to have their inner eyes – the eyes of the soul -- opened." Judging by the sound of the humming, Artie was pretty sure the entire population of the town was in the street. "I see with my inner eye that all who live here are here with me. No – no, there is one who is not. A young man, his name..." Artie rubbed his forehead and pretended he was thinking deeply. "West! Yes, that is his name. John West. Is it John West? Hmmm." Again he rubbed his forehead. "James! James West!
The Magus was now standing directly in front of him. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" he repeated.
Suddenly Artie knew, although he didn't know how he knew, that the Magus was Joash Curlin.
"Mr. Curlin? Your servant, sir. Lucius Fakiri, late of Budapest, recently come to the United States of America to share the wisdom of the ages with you and your neighbors."
The Magus was shocked that this man knew his name.
"Mr. Curlin, where is John – James West?"
"James West? How do you know there's a James West here?"
"Perhaps you didn't hear me. I know all things. Including that there is a young man by the name of James West here. And that he is not out with the rest of us. Is he not interested in wisdom?"
The Magus tried to reach into Artie's mind without success.
"Mr. Curlin – your answer please."
The apprentices were following this exchange closely. The Magus was an ordinary man by the name of Curlin? Of course West was still here, he was about to be sacrificed.
"My name is not Curlin. Yes, there is a James West here. May I take you to him?"
"Please."
"And the young lady?"
"My servant, yes, she may come, too. I may need her assistance."
"Come with me then."
Victorine drove the horses to the nearest hitching post, then ran to Artie and gave him her arm.
The Magus walked them to one of the nearby buildings, and opened the grate outside. Under was a narrow flight of steps, which meant they had to walk single-file. At the bottom was a small passageway, the end of which opened to the holding room.
Jim was still on the bed. "Now what is it?"
Artie was overjoyed to hear Jim's voice.
"Mr. West, you have visitors."
"Great," Jim mumbled.
"Mr. West?"
"Who are these people?"
"A Mr. Fakiri and – your name, dear?"
"Miss Drozd," Victorine said. Mr. Gordon had been right about Mr. West – he was good-looking, or would be once he was cleaned up.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance. Now why don't you get the hell out of here, and let me rest." This Fakiri looked the tiniest bit like Artie. Jim was curious to see what he looked like without the smoked spectacles.
"Mr. West will be leaving us soon."
"Not soon enough, buddy. Not soon enough." Jim struggled to his feet and went looking for a bottle.
"Mr. West, where did you get more alcohol?"
"Huh? I dunno."
"Mr. West has become a dipsomaniac I'm afraid, Mr. Fakiri. I'm sure he holds little interest for you in this condition."
"You're quite wrong – I'm interested in all things and all people. Mr. West, how have you been spending your time here?"
"Huh? I dunno. Y'know, my partner's dead." That thought popped into his head upon hearing Fakiri's voice. It did sound like Artie, speaking in one of the many accents he used. He took a deep swig of bourbon. "Yep, dead."
"What partner?"
"We're Secret Service agents –Artemus Gordon was my partner."
"How do you know he's dead?"
At first, Jim didn't answer. "The Magus told me. He would know."
"The Magus? Who is this Magus?" Artie asked.
Jim took another deep swig, then pointed. "That's him. Told me Artie's dead."
"Mr. Curlin told you that?. I'm not sure that's the case, Mr. West." Artie lowered his head and rubbed his temples. "No, it seems to me that Artemus Gordon is living, but has left the Service."
"He is? He has?" asked Jim with surprise.
"Mr. Fakiri, what do you know of Artemus Gordon?" the Magus asked suspiciously.
"What do I know of Artemus Gordon? As much as I know of you or of anyone, Mr. Curlin."
"Curlin?" Jim asked. That name sounds familiar.
"Mr. Fakiri, as I said, that is not my name. Let us go then," the Magus said, attempting to hurry Artie and Victorine out of the room. "I hope you'll stay at our caravansary – I would be happy to direct you there now."
"Not yet, Mr. Curlin. I'd like to stay and speak with Mr. West. Or – could we take him with us? I would like to speak to you as well."
"Why does this man interest you so?"
"Everyone interests me, sir. However, it seems that Mr. West is more interesting than many others I have met thus far in the United States of America."
He's blind and the girl is no threat – I might as well let them have West for a little while. "Yes, take him with you. Mr. West, Mr. Fakiri would like to spend some time with you. On your feet, let's go."
Jim, carrying the bottles, shuffled behind Artie and Victorine.
"And when may I meet with you, Mr. Curlin?"
"When you've had your fill of Mr. West, there will be an apprentice to take him back here. At that time, I will speak with you."
"Thank you, Mr. Curlin."
"Fakiri – I warn you, do not refer to me by that name again."
"Alright, Mr. Curlin. And thank you for allowing me to spend some time with Mr. West."
The Magus successfully contained his rage, and led them out. Jim got up on the wagon beside Victorine after which the Magus pointed out the caravansary in the distance.
"The seventh room from the left will be ready for you."
As soon as the Magus was out of earshot, Jim asked, "Fakiri – how did you know that his real name is Curlin?"
"I know all things, Mr. West. I know, for example, that you have been here over a month."
"Has it been that long??"
"Today is August 25. You came in mid-July, did you not?"
A month? I've never been held longer than a couple of days. The Magus says I'm leaving soon – I guess I just have to be patient.
"How have you spent your time here, Mr. West?" If I keep throwing questions at him, maybe he'll tell me something I can use.
"Not doing much. When Artie disappeared, the Magus holed me up in that room. Before Artie took off ..." Jim remembered the women and getting drunk. Nothing else. "It's been pretty dull. Not much to say. I'm here, Artie's dead."
"I say he's not."
"If he's alive, then where is he?" Jim wanted this subject over and done with.
Victorine was having a hard time keeping silent. Mr. Gordon was not only alive, he was sitting only a few feet away from his friend. Maybe if she told Mr. West... Mr. Gordon couldn't be mad, if it made his friend happy.
Somehow Artie realized what she was thinking. He reached for her hand and said, "Don't."
Jim turned his attention toward Victorine. Just a skinny kid, late teens, maybe twenty. Maybe this Fakiri had picked her up off the street somewhere. As young as she was, she had a hard look. Maybe from a rough life. Girls who've had a rough life often make good bedmates.
Victorine caught his gaze and moved closer to Artie. Jim had a disconcertingly hungry look in his eyes.
* * *
Outside of the seventh room stood an apprentice. As Victorine brought the wagon to a stop, he hurried toward them and took Artie's hand.
"Welcome, Mr. Fakiri. The Magus has sent word among us that you are a personage of honor. It will be my pleasure to serve you."
He was sent to watch me. "Thank you, son, but I have my servant here with me, and I am well-cared for. "
"The Magus insisted I look after you, sir. I must obey."
"The Magus is the law in Shekinah? Correct me if I am wrong, but I perceive that you are 'free, white and 21' as the saying goes. You need answer to no man."
"I have no choice. The Magus –"
"Is a mere man, son. Why are you in thrall to someone who is your equal?"
Shocked, the apprentice replied, "No one is the Magus's equal."
"You're wrong," Artie persisted. "He is a mere man, no better than you or I."
Why would the Magus indulge such a person, the apprentice wondered. A day is coming when all the world will bow before him.
Jim, Artie and Victorine went into the room, followed by the apprentice. The room was the same one where Jim and Artie had originally stayed. Artie's book was still on the floor. By the window a table had been added, on which were trays of food, and a carafe of red wine.
Victorine poured a glass for Artie, but before she could hand it to him, Jim grabbed it.
"Gimme that."
With a quick movement he took it out of her hand and drank it before Victorine even had a chance to protest.
The apprentice took the carafe. "I must forbid Mr. West alcohol."
Artie hadn't realized that the apprentice had come in with them.
"And I must ask you to leave. Tell the Magus I prefer not to have one of his followers spying on me. "
"But –"
"Out!" Artie roared.
Victorine took the carafe just as the apprentice backed out of the entryway and fled the courtyard.
"Master, something to eat? There's cold chicken, potatoes, and corn, and a cucumber salad," Victorine offered.
"Yes – throw it all on a plate and hand me a fork," Artie said. "Is there a tablecloth?"
"A tablecloth? Oh!" She remembered the significance of a tablecloth. "Yes, there is a tablecloth, master."
Before he sat down to eat, Artie absently removed the smoked spectacles, and immediately regretted it. If Jim recognized him... He covered his eyes with his right hand while feeling around for them.
"Next to your left foot," Jim called out. He had taken his plate to a dark corner of the room. It's nice to be back in the caravansary, but I don't get these two.
There was no conversation during the meal. At last Jim asked, "What are you doing here, Fakiri?"
"I came for you," Artie replied with directness.
"For me? What do you mean?"
"I mean, Mr. West, that the Magus has it in mind to kill you.
"No, he said I'm leaving soon. I figure I just gotta wait."
Jim passive? What has the Magus done to him?? "Mr. West, do you trust me?"
"Huh? I just met you - why are you asking me that?"
"Why indeed. Well, then – let me prove myself. I never met you before, correct?"
"Sure," Jim answered lazily. This sounds like it's gonna be a card trick.
"You are an agent of the United States of America Secret Service, you have tangled many times with one Dr. Miguelito Loveless, and also with a Count Manzeppi. You are a West Point graduate, you're currently under the command of a Colonel Richmond. You have traveled the country in a train provided for you by the United States of America. Do you need me to continue?"
"You could have read all that in the papers."
"I'm blind, Mr. West."
"Alright, so how do you plan to rescue me from the Magus?" As if I needed rescuing. Soon enough the Magus is gonna let me leave.
"I prefer to wait until the Magus makes his move."
"Uh huh." .
"And until such time as he makes his move you need to stay here with us."
"In this little room?? You're crazy."
As much as Jim had changed, his stubbornness remained. How to go about keeping him in the room?
"Mr. West, will you come sit by me?"
"Awright."
Jim sat on the floor next to him. Victorine watched with interest. The room was small – why didn't he just have Jim get in the wagon with them, and leave?
"Mr. West, completely empty your mind of thought. Bella, is there anything in here that is shiny?"
"There's a silver tray here – it's pretty shiny." .
"Hand it over to Mr. West please."
She passed it over to him while avoiding his glance. That look he gave her with still with her.
"What's this for?" he asked.
"Mr. West, empty your mind and fix all your attention on the tray, please."
Jim did as requested. After a few moments, he felt as if he were somewhere else.
"Mr. West, think back to when you first came to Shekinah. See yourself riding into town with Mr. Gordon. Then when Mr. Gordon decides to knock on doors, and you ride away. And soon you see something that troubles you deeply."
Artie reached out and touched Jim's shoulder, which had begun to quiver.
Victorine saw his expression registered sheer terror.
"Mr. West, now do you understand what we're trying to save you from?" Artie asked.
The tray dropped onto the floor.
"He's going to sacrifice me, and that damned Artie let it happen! I pleaded with him to leave! I pleaded!"
"It won't happen," Artie said, trying to sound calm. "I was sent for you."
"Sent?"
"The universal intelligence communicated to me your plight."
"But all the other poor saps, where were you when they were being sacrificed?" Jim asked angrily.
"Mr. West, I was sent here to save you. So make yourself at home. I'm going to go speak with the Magus in private." Artie rose and signaled to Victorine to help him. "We should be back within a few hours, Mr. West. Perhaps even sooner."
"I'm going to be by myself??"
"Fora short time only, Mr. West. You have my word you'll be safe."
"Your word! You're blind! What are you going to do – fight off anybody who comes to get me sacrificed?"
"No one will carry you off without the Magus's direction, and he hasn't given it yet." I hope. "Please relax. Take a nap, if you like. Bella?"
As soon as they were beyond Jim's hearing, Victorine asked, "Why don't you tell him?"
"Tell him what?"
"You know."
"Now is not the right time – not at all. You hear how he talks about Gordon, I don't think Gordon instantly turning up would be a good thing right now. And if the Magus intends to sacrifice West, more than likely Gordon would be next."
"Well, when will you tell him?" she pressed.
I won't. Unless some day when I'll be able to see again. "When the time is right, Bella. When the time is right."
"Where do you want me to take you exactly? How do you know where to meet the Magus?" Victorine asked.
"He's going to meet us," Artie said confidently.
"You're so right, Mr. Fakiri."
The Magus stood stroking his beard. The girl is weak. "Miss – Miss Drozd was it? You're much too lovely to be dragging a blind man around, dear. Have you ever been to Paris?"
"No."
"Oh, my dear, if you were to descend on Paris, the excitement would be something akin to the Second Coming, I believe. Would you like to go to Paris?"
"Um, golly, I sure would."
Artie realized what the Magus was doing. "Bella, you know that when we return to the Continent, we'll go through Paris."
"Do you want to be pulling a blind man through the streets of Paris, when you could be sipping champagne with barons and princes? Answer me, dear."
"Um. I guess not," she answered shyly.
The Magus took her hand. "Why don't you come to my room and we can discuss this."
"I can't – I am Mr. …" She almost said 'Mr. Gordon's.' "Mr. Fakiri's servant. He needs me."
"Yes, that's true," Artie interjected. "Curlin, when are you and I going to sit down and talk?"
The Magus continued to focus his attention on Victorine. "I'm sailing for Paris in a few weeks. I'd like you to join me. Of course, we'll have to stop in New York first to get you outfitted. You'll need some ball gowns in addition to traveling clothes."
Artie felt himself losing his grip on her. "Bella, I don't believe Mr. Curlin has any intention of taking you to Paris. His honeyed words are a trap."
"Your jealousy is unbecoming, Mr. Fakiri. Come along, dear."
Victorine was torn. But this man was promising what she really longed for: excitement. She pushed Artie's hand off her arm and walked off with the Magus. Immediately, the storm broke, and Artie heard them running as he stood alone in the rain.
Jim had watched this exchange from the doorway, while finishing the carafe of wine. They were beyond the entry to the courtyard, so couldn't hear the conversation. He wondered why the girl had walked off with the Magus. Fakiri looked pretty sad just standing there getting wet.
"Hey, Fakiri!"
Artie turned to where Jim's voice was coming from.
"Can you follow my voice?"
"Yes."
"Walk straight ahead. Now a little to your left – there are wheel ruts."
Jim watched until Artie came close-enough to the doorway for him to take his arm.
"I saw that he took the girl. What happened?"
"He lured her away with promises of Paris," Artie replied in a tired voice
* * *
"And how did you meet Mr. Fakiri, dear?"
"He bought me."
"He bought you? You and I both know that's not true."
The Magus was able to tell she was lying, but was unable to enter her mind, which distressed him.
"It is true! I was owned by gypsies and he bought me from them. I'm not lying."
The girl is too defiant to make a good apprentice. She'll only be useful as a sacrifice.
"Mr. Curlin, what day will we be leaving for New York?"
Something inside him snapped. "My name is not Curlin. You will refer to me as Lord, in the third person I am called the Magus!" Then he slapped her.
"How dare you!" Her hand went to her cheek.
"How dare I? I am the Magus. I am the power in this world and will soon reveal this fact openly before all mankind. You should count yourself fortunate to have drawn my attention."
In a moment he relaxed, smiling and speaking to her in a tender voice. "You're too young to understand these things. Although I occupy this seat of power over the world. I am lonely. I'm hoping you will take pity on me."
Victorine was confused. "But are we still going to Paris?"
"I said I'd take you, and I will take you. But only if you tell me this one thing: why Mr. Fakiri came to Shekinah."
"I don't know why." Telling him the truth would, she knew, jeopardize both Mr. Gordon and Mr. West.
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't. I just take him where he wants to go. He don't tell me why he wants to go someplace. My job is only to take him there."
"You do know. Tell me."
"I don't!"
The Magus raised a fist. "Must I beat it out of you?"
"I don't know! I don't know!" Victorine said over and over as the Magus beat her. Finally, he tired himself out. Stepping over the still body on the floor, he went to his meditation room to see if he could reach into Fakiri's mind.
* * *
"Mr. West, there's a book over in the wagon entitled Magick and Method - could you get it for me?"
"Get it? I'm not leaving this room."
"Can you at least direct me?"
"Awright – five steps straight out the door, um.... fifteen to the right. You should be able to smell the horses by then. What do you even want a book for?"
"It's not for me, it's for you."
"Huh? There's a couple bottles of bourbon on the seat, can you get those too?"
Artie followed Jim's directions and finally found the book. When he got back to the room, Jim took the book and bottles from him.
"Why do you want me to read this?"
"It will save your life. The Magus does intend to sacrifice you, that's true, but there is a way to avoid it. When it has been announced that the Angel of Death is to take your soul you will kneel in the center of a tablecloth – we'll need rope to surround it, held by stakes. When you kneel, you face East while meditating – you must stay awake all night. If you continue until dawn, you will live." But what happens next?
"Are you serious?"
"Yes – it's in the book. Read it for yourself."
"And where are we going to get rope? And stakes?"
"How many knives are on the table?"
"Four."
"So, Mr. West, we now have the stakes. Rope, hmm." Artie removed his cape. As he folded it, he felt a stray thread and tugged at it. Soon that section of the cape had unraveled and a few yards of silk thread was in his hand. "Will this do, you think?"
"It might. It just might," Jim replied, his voice trailing off. This experience reminded him of the many times he and Artie had to figure out a way to escape their captors. Artie was always the better at coming up with novel solutions. What's happened to me?? I've been drunk for the better part of a month. I haven't done any work at all, and haven't even bothered to find out where Artie is.
"Fakiri, when you said that Artie's alive, how did you know?"
"I know all things, as I've said before."
"But where is he? Is he alright?"
"Yes. He has left the working for the government of the United States of America and has gone back to the stage. He's on a very, very long tour of Europe. It's unlikely that you'll see him ever again."
"On tour?? Why did he leave me here? He's never done that."
How do I answer this one? "He was ejected from Shekinah, and could not get back in. In his disgust, he quit the his position and became an actor again."
"Ejected? If Artie wants in somewhere, he gets in, no matter what." Maybe this guy doesn't know what he's talking about, and Artie really is dead. Or maybe Artie really did want me dead and left me here, figuring the Magus would do the job.
"I have told you want I know, Mr. West, and I do know all things."
There was no more conversation. With nothing to do but wait and listen to the rain pummel the roof, Artie decided to sleep awhile. He rose, keeping his hand on the wall until he reached the corner where the blankets were. He picked one up, and attempted to spread it on the floor, but tripped and fell. Just before he hit the ground, his smoked spectacles fell off.
Jim went over to help him. Artie kept his eyes shut tight and tried to keep his head down, but it was no use. Jim recognized him.
"Artie!"
"What about Artie, Mr. West?"
"Artie, it's you. I know it is."
"No, you don't, Mr. West. I'm Lucius –"
"Artie, what happened to you??"
Artie gave up. "I think it's pretty obvious what happened to me, Jim."
"How?" Jim was overcome with a flurry of competing emotions.
"I guess you don't remember, but the day you were tied to that pole, they hitched me behind two horses and let the horses drag me a few miles away – at least it felt like a few miles. I woke up in a doctor's home in a little town called Knowlton and I... I couldn't see."
Jim had no idea what to say.
"I guess they know in headquarters; the doctor set it up so I'd arrive in Washington on the 30th. The girl took it upon herself to bring me here."
"Who is she?"
"The doctor's nurse.."
"Artie, I'm sorry I ever doubted you." I don't remember much but I remember I said some awful things – unforgivable things.
"Jim... I..." Artie took a deep breath, and started again. "I'm through, so let's get this assignment over with, alright? What you need to do is pretend you're someone else – really believe it. That way, the Magus can't get into your head."
"I'm not as good as that as you are."
"Well, try. Or just be a much different version of yourself – that might work."
"Let me see what I can do."
Artie arranged the blanket, took his boots off and stretched out. "I'm gonna take a nap. He oughta be turning up in awhile for me."
"Alright – what's your first name again?"
"Lucius."
Jim sat and went over the last few weeks in his mind. The more he remembered, the more ashamed he became.
"Hey Lucius, let Artie know that I've been a complete ass, and completely unworthy of his loyalty and friendship."
Artie pretended to be asleep already.
* * *
Victorine felt around her face. Thank God, she still had all her teeth and none of them were loose. Her nose hurt something awful, and her one eye was swollen shut. She moved painfully through the dark corridors until she found the stairwell. Thinking how naive she'd been, she began to cry silently. Poor Mr. Gordon – she'd abandoned him so cruelly and he'd never been anything but kind to her.
It would be dark soon so she moved as fast as she could through the empty streets to the caravansary.
Jim saw that someone was coming and was about to begin his performnace, but then recognized that it was Victorine who was approaching.
"What on earth happened to you??" The girl's face was covered with bruises, her nose was broken, and she had one of the worst black eyes he'd ever seen. At that moment he began to hate himself. Most of the women who'd left his room left looking similar.
"Mr. Curlin." she said simply. Entering the room she saw Artie on the floor and momentarily panicked. "Is he alright?"
"Fine. Sleeping."
"Do you think he'll forgive me? He was counting on me and I let him down."
"That makes two of us."
Victorine gave him a puzzled look.
"Miss, I've figured out who he really is – my partner."
"Ohhh. He didn't want you to know him," she whispered conspiratorially. "I don't understand why."
"I think I know why." He's a proud man, and when something goes wrong in his private life, he keeps it a secret. I'm sure the plan was to make sure all along that I didn't know he was Fakiri, and when the mission was over, he'd drop off the face of the earth. "I don't think he wanted me to know he's blind."
"No? But he always seemed sort of, um... accepting. And real pleasant all the time"
"Well, that's Artie. That's... " His brain began brain coughing up things he didn't know where there. The Magus talking about vibrations, and how he'd been brought down by slowing the vibrations around him. Artie was somebody with a high rate of vibration. That's why I've started to feel better once he showed up – I almost feel like myself again.
"Miss, can you tell me about when he was found?"
"Call me Bella," she whispered. "It ain't my real name, but it's what I'm using here." She then told him everything she remembered from the day he was brought in, unconscious and covered with blood, until they arrived in Shekinah.
"You were very courageous to come here, Bella."
"Not courageous at all. I love... um, I like Mr. Fakiri, and he needed help to get here. He thought Dr. Lumberg was gonna help him, but he went behind Mr. Fakiri's back and was gonna put him on a train to Washington."
"Miss Drozd, would you kindly awaken Mr. Fakiri? I would like to speak with him." The door opened and the Magus appeared.
Jim looked up and began to throw himself into the walls shrieking. As the Magus came closer, Jim threw himself onto him. The Magus quickly side-stepped him.
"Mr. West, you are an exceptionally bad actor. Now please stop."
Jim kept going.
"Miss Drozd, please do what I ask, or I will be forced to repeat some of the high points of our prior meeting."
Victorine shot him a look of pure hatred. "Certainly, Mr. Curlin."
She kneeled beside Artie and touched his shoulder. "Mr. Fakiri, Mr. Curlin is here to see you."
Artie opened his eyes, and got halfway up, leaning on his elbow.
"You're ready for our meeting? Let me get my boots on and I'll be ready to go." Artie pulled his boots on and rose. "Bella?"
"No, Mr. Fakiri, we'll go alone."
"That's not possible – I must have my servant with me. I sometimes suffer seizures, and she is experienced in caring for me."
"As you'll have it. Miss, you may join us."
Victorine went to Artie's side.
"You mentioned, Mr. Curlin, that someone would come to take Mr. West back to his room – is that person coming?" Artie asked.
"Hmm? No, leave him there for now."
* * *
All three entered the Magus's sitting room, the same room where he and Artie had met previously. "Have Mr. Fakiri take one of the chairs by the fireplace, Miss Drozd. Some madeira, Mr. Fakiri?"
"No, sir. You have put something impure into the bottle; I will not drink it." How did I know that?
The Magus was deeply surprised. It was a potion he brought back from India, which worked as a truth serum. It was odorless, so how could Fakiri know?
"Some water then?"
"I am not thirsty. Please let's converse. You are the founder of this community, are you not?"
"I am, Mr. Fakiri. It was my life's dream to found a town based on the world of the spirit."
"'Spirit' you say? Interesting. It seems to me that if one is going to found a place where life is centered on the world of the spirit, one might ultimately send forth people to found similar communities."
"Yes, that is my goal."
Bingo! "Have you done so yet, or are you still making plans?"
"May I ask you something, Mr. Fakiri? Where do you stand on the world of the spirit?"
"I'm fascinated by it, of course. Why else would I have come? After having studied spirit and the universal mind all over the world, I was astounded that even in the backwaters of the United States of America, there is interest in unseen things. I am most interested in the role played by vibration."
Victorine, who was sitting on a stool next to Artie's chair, reached out to take his hand, while staring hard at the Magus
"How much do you know about the role of vibration, Mr. Fakiri?"
"A very great deal, sir. I have studied for years – it is of the few things a blind man may study on his own, you understand. I've studied the slums of the great cities of Europe – some are at appallingly low rates of vibration. Other areas, startlingly high rates. I understand that among individual people Mr. Abraham Lincoln had a rate far beyond even the most spiritually developed seekers."
"Have you given any thought to purposely raising or lowering vibration rates among populations?"
"I have, certainly. What have you to say about it?" C'mon, Curlin, put your neck in the noose.
"Do you consider yourself a moral person, Fakiri?"
"Moral, sir? What are morals? Arbitrary rules, nothing more. I live by my own morals as, I believe, every man should. Whatever will make me healthy, wealthy and wise is moral, even if my health, wealth, or wisdom should come at a price that someone else must pay."
"You're a very wise, Fakiri. What I have to say about manipulating vibration is this: Most men are fools. Yet many fools are prosperous, even rich. Do they deserve to be? No, they do not. And so I propose to send my followers, once they're fully trained, around the world to – through the use of vibration suppression, cast all fools into the poverty and sickness which their foolishness warrants. Fools on the bottom of society, enlightened persons like myself – and you, Mr. Fakiri, on top."
He succeeded with Jim, so doing it to most people would be like shooting fish in a barrel. "But if you oppress large populations, don't you reach a point by which they'll end up dying off? Either from violence or disease?"
"Ah! Here is where spirit comes in, Fakiri. The Angel of Death feeds off of energy – soul energy, and the most effective means of providing it with soul energy is through the sacrifice of a human subject. It then uses this energy to maintain low vibratory levels, keeping them at the right temperature to sustain life, so to speak."
"Interesting. Where do you find such subjects? And how do you determine whether they are suitable or not?"
"Many subjects have stumbled unwittingly into Shekinah. Someone like yourself, with an unusually high level of vibration – odd, actually, for someone who shares my beliefs to display such a high level... You would make a fine candidate."
"I am not offering myself as a sacrifice."
"Nor would I accept you if you were. You and I have a lot in common. Would you be interested in working with me?"
"I might. I'd like to be around for one of your sacrifices."
"You're in luck, Fakiri. West is to be sacrificed sometime after midnight tonight. "
"Capital! And how do you spend your time before?"
"In meditation, whereby I contact the Angel and make him the promise of a soul."
"And the person intended for sacrifice – what does he or she do?"
"Anything he or she wants, as long as they're sober and in good physical condition. Naturally we don't tell them of our plans. But once the Angel arrives, it's over. I may have let slide in front of Mr. West my intentions, but I was actually speaking to his associate at the time and, as I recall West was quite inebriated, so I'm sure he remembers nothing."
"Is the Angel just a spiritual manifestation or is there a physical component? Can he be heard and seen?"
"Oh, you'll hear the Angel coming, Fakiri. It's a shame you won't see it, but Miss Drozd should," he said with an ugly grin. Most witnesses are so shaken they become hopelessly insane.
"In that case, may I spend the evening with Mr. West at the caravansary? Such an interesting example of a peculiar American type."
"Certainly you may. Excuse me – I must be at my meditation. You know the way out, don't you, Miss Drozd?"
"I do, Mr. Curlin."
Artie and Victorine moved as fast as they could to the caravansary.
"Jim, tonight's the night."
"It is? And you're sure what the book says will work?"
"As certain as I can be."
That's not very comforting. "Well, let's get this thing set up. C'mere Bella, give me a hand with this thread."
A half hour later, the stakes and makeshift rope were in place.
"Do you want to take a little nap?"Artie asked. "Starting at midnight, you'll have to keep your eyes open until dawn."
"I don't think so." The girl might fall asleep beforehand, and I don't think Artie will be able to tell time, so if I sleep too long...
"Are you absolutely sure?"
"Absolutely, Fakiri."
Artie removed his smoked spectacles. "These aren't all that comfortable," he muttered.
Suddenly, Jim had a lump in his throat. "What happens when this is over?"
"When what's over?"
"The assignment. Curlin's in prison, the apprentices have been rounded up, our report is filed."
"Uh..., well, I guess you go back to work with Jeremy or somebody, and I file for my pension. A good thing I bought that house in Annapolis. Funny, I always wanted to retire there, I just didn't know I'd be retiring less than a year after I bought it," Artie said, forcing a smile.
"It won't be the same without you."
"I would sincerely hope not. Jeremy's a whole lot sharper than I am in a lot of ways." His voice sounded hollow.
* * *
The apprentices were very excited. A sacrifice was a great and solemn event, but every sacrifice brought them closer to the day when each would be sent out to control the vibrations in a far-off community. None had yet witnessed a sacrifice at close range, and even the Magus himself stayed at a distance. After dawn he would come to the site to confirm that the Angel had seized the promised soul. A successful form of keeping discipline was to force errant apprentices to witness up close the sacrifices. All had gone mad and were now dead, either by their own hand or from wandering far out into the wilderness, where they died of hunger and thirst.
By eleven p.m. all apprentices were expected to be kneeling in rows outside of the tall building. From eleven until midnight, the Magus would lead a chanting ritual, affirming their resolve to follow the lefthand path.
"We are gods, we have no other!" he shouted.
"We have no other," replied over a hundred voices.
"We are power, there is no other!"
"There is no other!" they cried.
"Life and death is in our hands only!"
"In our hands only!"
"The world will submit to us!"
"To us only!"
"We thank thee, Spirit, and offer the soul of James West as a gift."
"We thank thee."
The Magus then raised his arms and all the apprentices began to hum. They were expected to hum until dawn, when the sacrifice would be complete.
* * *
A voice in Artie's head told him to have Victorine start drinking and heavily. He fought the thought – why have the girl drink? And to the point of drunkenness? She was just a kid. The thought became stronger and stronger until it seemed to fill his body. She must drink until she was out. The reason would be clear later.
"Jim, what's in those bottles?"
"Bourbon. Do you want a drink?"
"Not me. Bella, do you like bourbon?"
"I only had it once. Um, are you offering?" The voice had spoken to her too. She must drink as much as she could. The voice would tell her when to stop. She poured herself a glass of bourbon and took the book onto her lap, reading it by the light of the oil lamp.
"Yes, take as much as you like." So it'll be my job to keep Jim awake. "Jim, you're gonna have to keep your eyes open all night, no matter how tired you get."
"I know, I know – believe me, I understand it's either keep my eyes open, or die. You're not gonna have to... " keep watch on me. "We're closing in on midnight I think – that racket out there must have something to do with it. I oughta get into position."
"And meditate – on what, I don't know. I don't know if the book says that anywhere," Artie said.
When Jim first heard the instructions, the meditation requirement seemed like nonsense to him. But since he'd learned that his and Artie's partnership was nearing its end, there was plenty to meditate over.
Artie was getting increasingly nervous and fidgety. He would get up and walk around the room, keeping one hand on the wall. Then sit down and get up again. Every few minutes he'd ask, "Jim, are your eyes still open?" The answer was always "Yes, Artie."
Occasionally, he'd strike up a conversation with Victorine, but as she became more, and more intoxicated, she became less and less communicative. By what he assumed was around 2:30 a.m. Victorine was out.
"What time do you think it is, Jim?"
"Don't know."
Artie continued walking around the room. The noise from the apprentices seemed to be getting louder. By now, his stomach was churning. Every minute felt like an hour.
Once the apprentices were at their loudest, their sound slowly became softer, but there was another sound to be heard. It sounded like screaming, coming from some huge animal. And it was getting closer.
Jim stopped meditating. "Artie, sit down, relax. Please." Artie's nervousness was beginning to make Jim nervous.
The screaming became so loud Jim feared for his eardrums. Something was banging on the room – one the door, on the walls, on the window. Soon it seemed as if the room would have to crumble around them, but the noise and the banging continued unabated.
The screams became even louder. I don't know if I can stand much more. Jim leant over with his face on the tablecloth and his hands over his head. He was certain that if he just got up and stepped over the threads the noise would stop.
"Artie! Artie!!"
Artie was beyond his arm's reach, sitting in the corner with his eyes closed. He'd removed his shirt and attempted to cover his ears with the fabric. Victorine was still out.
"Artie, you gotta – I need help here, or I'm gonna... I can't take it anymore!"
Finally, he reached into his pocket and threw a dollar coin at him and hit his forehead.
"Jim? Was that you?"
"Yes – come here. You gotta hold me down, I'm going out of my mind!" he hollered as loud as he could.
Artie crawled to where he thought Jim was, careful not to disturb the thread. The screams became even louder.
"Forget it – there's not enough room on the tablecloth for both of us. I – I give up!"
"Jim, no!"
" I can't! I–!"
"Jim, please – just count to twenty-five, slowly, and then you can get up, alright. Just do that."
Jim did what he was told. At twenty-five, Artie said, "Now, Jim – just count to twenty-five again."
"I can't! I'm going out of my mind!"
"Jim, just twenty-five."
They did this over and over. The noise was still deafening, but as the counting game wore on, Jim was able to relax.
At the fiftieth count of twenty-five, the noise stopped completely.
Victorine awoke. "Oh, golly, is it morning yet?" She rose unsteadily. "I figured I'd be sick from all I drank. Oh, gosh – you both look awful!"
Both Jim and Artie were covered with sweat, and looked very frazzled. Jim especially looked bad.
She tiptoed to the window. "Oh, look – the sun's about the come up!"
"Jim, we made it!"
"Did we? What does the Magus have to say about that, I wonder? Stay here, I wanna take a walk outside."
"Victorine, are you alright?" Artie asked.
"Sure, I guess I am. Had a funny dream – very noisy. My head still hurts a little, but maybe that's the bourbon. Ooh, there's a pretty sunrise – come out and watch it with me."
Oops.
She took Artie's arm, and they sat together on the bench outside the door.
"Huh, that's funny."
"What is, Bella?"
"Um, that tall building ain't there no more – there's tall silo there instead."
"There is??"
"Uh huh – wanna take a walk over?"
* * *
Jim was dazed as he walked through the streets. The granite buildings were gone, in their place were humble wooden structures. A tall silo stood where the tall black granite building had been. Ahead was a gathering of apprentices.
As he came closer, he saw that they surrounded what looked like the Magus in his red robes lying on blood-caked dust.
The crowd parted to let Jim through. The Magus was dead, and appeared to have been torn to pieces by a wild animal. He looked at the face of the apprentices, who looked away and slowly walked off.
Jim turned and was met by Victorine and Artie.
"Victorine – your face!" Jim said with surpriset.
"What about my face?"
"It's... you don't have black eyes anymore, and it looks like your nose straightened out."
Victorine ran her hand over her face and smiled.
"Artie – he's dead. Clawed to death it looks like."
"Oh, gosh – that's what the book said!" Victorine burst.
"Huh?" Jim and Artie said in unison.
"The book – I was flipping through it last night and I read about human sacrifice, and it said that if the promised person is not available, then the one who promised him, the Spirit will take – something like that."
"It did?"
"Uh huh, wanna go back? I'll read it to you."
* * *
"'Once the magician evoked a spirit from the underworld and promised a certain thing, that particular thing must be given the spirit ere it depart. The Angel of Death has been promised a life, and a life he must have! Having failed to secure the life that had been promised, the Dark Angel took the life of the Great Master who had failed in his promise,'" Victorine read. "I'm glad he got what he deserved."
Four hours later, they were ready to leave Shekinah. Both Jim's and Artie's horses were found hitched behind one of the buildings. Jim rode his, Artie's was hitched to the wagon. The decision had been made not to round up the apprentices. Extensive records were found in the silo, which named all those previously sacrificed, and which suggested that all the deaths were attributable directly to the Magus, and that the apprentices were guilty only of being easily influenced. There were also detailed descriptions of the insanity manifested among those who were forced to watch the sacrifices.
So that's why Victorine had to be drunk to the point of unconsciousness.