Note: Real Life is being a pain, and since I don't know when or even if I'll be able to get online tomorrow to post this chapter as scheduled, I'm posting it a day early.
Act Four, Part One
Miss Jones in her blood-red robe led the double-line of black-clad acolytes to the cell in which their prisoner slumbered. "Virgo, the lock, please," she said.
Virgo stepped forward and unlocked the door, then returned to her place among the others.
Miss Jones swept inside and stood over the prisoner. For a silent moment she watched him sleep, his chest slowly rising and falling. Then she leaned closer and whispered to him, "Adonis, awake."
Jim West's eyes snapped open.
"Arise."
He sat up, his legs swiveling over the side of the bed, and then he was upright.
"Good," said Miss Jones. "You are to come with us. You will be silent, and you will do as you are told. And you are to be robed." She turned to one of the acolytes and nodded. The woman she had indicated crossed to a hook in the wall and took down from it a robe of purest white. This she bore to the man, who accepted it blankly and shrugged it on.
"And now, let us go, my acolytes!" said Miss Jones. "The orb of Selene shall light us on our way! Cancer, Taurus, escort Adonis." She strode from the room ahead of them all, the women following after her in their wonted silence. And Jim West, in unnatural quietude, allowed himself to be led.
…
The four sites on Phillips' map formed a rough crescent through the outskirts of St Louis. Artie started with the easternmost, hoping to find Jim and his captors quickly.
The first crossroads seemed deserted as Artie arrived. He dismounted, tying Henry's reins to a bush and giving the gelding a gentle pat. Artie then drew his revolver and headed in furtively, looking and listening, searching…
There! A woman's giggle reached his ears. Artie whirled and bounded through the underbrush, counting on the element of surprise.
Oh, there was a surprise, all right. A young couple in a state of, er, partial dishabille let out startled shrieks at the sudden appearance of a big stranger brandishing a gun. The pimply-faced young man snatched up his discarded shirt and tossed it over himself. A second later his chivalry kicked in and he flung the cloth over his girlfriend instead. His voice cracking with panic, the fellow yelped, "Ye gods! I knew your pa said he'd tan my hide for me if he caught me with you again, Molly, but I sure didn't think he'd go and hire him a gunslinger!"
Gunslinger! Artie glanced at the revolver in his hand, then hastily holstered it. "My mistake," he murmured, feeling his ears burning. "Ah - but I don't suppose you've noticed any large groups of people out and about in these woods tonight, have you?"
…
Out from the city in clandestine procession marched a group of thirteen women escorting one man. The silvery moonlight shone down around them as they made their silent way toward a place where three ways met, alongside a certain stream that flowed merrily into the river.
…
The second site turned out to be much like the first - except that here, three sets of shrieks rang out instead of just one, bursting from the trio of young couples skinny-dipping in the stream by moonlight. These turned out to be no more help than the first pair, and now as Artie crept up on the third site on the map, he hoped fervently he wouldn't be stumbling upon any more surreptitious amorous trysts.
And in fact, he didn't. That was the good news. The bad news was that he also didn't find Jim, for this particular neck of the woods was entirely devoid of human occupancy save for Artie himself.
"Great," he muttered as he mounted Henry to head for the final site. "Isn't it always in the last place you look? I just hope I didn't show up here too early, so that Miss Jones and her entourage wind up over here with Jim while I'm over there!" Turning the horse, he kicked Henry into a gallop to try to outrace the moon in its inexorable course toward its zenith.
…
The fat orb of moon was climbing ever higher in the sky. "Here we are," said Miss Jones.
They were deep within a cypress grove. Nearby a rushing stream babbled merrily to itself as its waters flowed away toward the none-too-distant river. The road they had followed into the grove met here with two more paths, forming a Y.
"Right there," Miss Jones said, pointing at the very center of the Y. "Lie down there, Mr West, and go back to sleep."
Jim, his face impassively blank, did as he was ordered. The women gathered around him into a circle, Miss Jones standing at his head, with Aquarius carrying the chalice at her left and Gemini carrying the sheathed golden knife at her right. Miss Jones looked across the circle at Virgo. "Have you more of the obedience dust, my dear?" she asked.
"Yes, my Lady."
"Good. Have it ready. If Adonis should show any signs of waking, administer more of the dust to him."
"Yes, my Lady."
Miss Jones looked down at the man lying at their feet and dimpled happily. "What a picture he is, my dears! A veritable Sleeping Beauty." She chuckled. "Why, with enough of the obedience dust affecting our Adonis, he might well sleep through the entire ritual. Wouldn't that be lovely?"