The Private Diary of Elizabeth Quatermain, vol. II: The Egypt Chronicle

by Lady Norbert

11 October 1899

It seems now as though Kiya is toying with us, for there has been no disturbance since two nights ago. I am happy to say that Dr. Carter seems to be improving, though I wish the circumstances were better for our other two friends.

Tom is not terribly unwell, physically. Mostly he seems tired and pale, sleeping much and eating little. But by and large, he is doing as well as can be expected in his situation. There are times when he seems strangely frightened, by something no one else can see or hear. We suspect that she speaks to him, now and then, perhaps telling him to be patient and wait for her. Nemo has tried hypnotizing Tom as he did Carter, but gained no greater knowledge of her whereabouts. If we could but locate her, we could destroy her during the daylight hours as Mina's friend van Helsing did Dracula.

Skinner, by contrast, is rather ill. He burns with a fever, the origin of which Henry has not determined. His wounds, from both Kiya's fangs and the crocodile, have closed well enough, but Henry speculates that he may have sustained some sort of infection prior to their closing. He freely admits that he doesn't know whether that is even possible with a vampire bite, but we have few other clues. The fever came up suddenly, yesterday afternoon, and has not abated despite our best efforts.

By our, I mean Henry, Mina, and myself. As on previous occasions, Henry has asked Mina to assist him with the care of the three vampire victims. This time, however, he has consented to allow me to help as well, to what extent I am able. Mostly I have been following his directions to try and help bring down Skinner's fever.

My poor dear friend has been somewhat delirious. He mutters in his sleep now, and tosses about in the bedclothes from time to time. Once, while sitting at his bedside, I dozed off only to be awakened by his voice. He shouted my name, then dropped back to a mumble. "No....you... Bess...can't..." It frightens me to see him so.

later

I have actually been ordered away from the patients for a time. Skinner started shaking violently in his sleep just now, and gasping as though he could not breathe. I tried to rouse him, but to no avail. I called for Henry, who came on the run to try and ease his breathing.

"He's not responding," he said desperately.

I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I found myself yelling at poor Skinner. I remember shouting, "Don't you dare leave us!" though if I shouted other words I no longer recall them. I honestly believed he might be dying. In any case, I truly lost my head and I don't blame Henry for sending me out.

I was surprised when Mina followed. I took a seat on the deck of the boat, staring at the bank and at the outline of the rest house where the trouble really began for us. She came to where I sat and stood quietly for a moment.

"It's torture, I know," she said at length.

"What is?"

She paused, and walked over to the railing. With her back to me, she continued, "Before Dracula ever began to feed on me, he was draining the life of my dearest friend, Lucy Westenra. I nursed her through what we all assumed was her final illness. Only later did we learn that she had turned to the undead, though to our eyes she appeared to die. Watching Lucy wither away was one of the hardest things I've ever done." She turned and looked at me. "So I have a rather good idea of what you're going through just now."

I wasn't entirely certain how to respond to that, so I settled for saying, "I'm sorry to hear of your friend's suffering."

She folded her arms; I was curiously reminded of one of my sterner schoolteachers. "Lucy has been dead for the better part of forty years. I have come to terms with my pain. You, on the other hand, are just beginning to feel it. I hope, as do we all, that Skinner will be spared, but I am not the optimist that Tom is. In any case, you shouting at him will certainly not help."

"No, I realize that...I was just..."

"I know." She cut me off sharply. "I understand. But it would be wise, I think, for you to not let such a thing happen again." She relaxed then, slightly, and waved me away. "Go back down. He needs you."

In point of fact, Henry did not really need me, but he gave me a tolerant smile while I apologised for the outburst. "The good news is, I think we may have turned a corner," he said. "He's not precisely better, but I have reason to believe he's not going to get any worse."

Good news is in rather short supply just now, so I will take this bit that I can and praise God for it.

12 October 1899

Today we may have reason to be hopeful! Shortly before sunrise, Tom, who had been sitting quietly in his bed and reading, dropped his book and called out for Nemo.

"I think, if you hypnotize me now, I can tell you something," he said anxiously when we had all come running. "I just have a funny feeling...there's a kind of prickling in my mind."

Never one to dismiss such unscientific matters out of hand, Nemo immediately performed the hypnotism and put Tom in a light trance.

"I am entering the tomb where I have lain for these many years," he said in a dull voice. "My coffin is open, but I am closing it all but a crack. Now I am changing to fit inside the small opening. They cannot find me here."

Kiya has been hiding in her own tomb all along, as we had surmised, but in a manner we did not expect. She has been adopting the form of a scarab, the jewel-bright beetle once used as ornamentation by her people, to avoid detection by the explorers and by us.

"Unbearably clever," said Nemo, "since we can't very well put a stake through a beetle's heart, as it has none."

Tom, his trance gone, wore a thoughtful expression. "Back home," he said, "one of the boys at my school went away to college. He studied bugs, brought home a huge collection. The bugs were mounted on pins inside glass boxes."

"A hatpin should do nicely," Mina agreed. "Once we stab her in that form, she must return to her normal state in order to recover from the injury. If she sleeps, this will happen on its own -- her body will engineer the change without her conscious knowledge. Then we can finish her in the usual way."

Nemo was already halfway out the door. "Mina, Henry -- we must act quickly. Let us not suffer this being to live another night."

"I want to go too," said Tom bleakly.

"No!" Mina snapped. "You could very well do as Carter did, and attempt to prevent us from killing her."

"Don't you understand? I want her dead!" He looked strangely young as he spoke. "You don't know...well, maybe you do, Mina, but the rest of you don't know...what she's done to me inside. What she took from me, what she forced me to take from her. She's in me. I can't get her out, I'll never get her out until she's dead." I could have sworn there were tears in his eyes.

The hard expression on Mina's face softened. "I know, Tom. Don't you think I know? But you're safer here, where you can't see what's happening. The sun is rising, and you'll sleep. When you wake, it will all be over." Indeed, even as she said this, he looked like he was dozing.

I looked at them questioningly. "Ought I to...?"

"To stay here. Be alert for any sudden changes," said Mina. "I think when she is dead, they will return to normal at once -- or in Skinner's case, as close as he's ever been," she added. Mirth has been rare in our company of late, and we all savoured the joke as though it were meat, and we were starving men.

16 October 1899

I have had little time to write in the past few days. Most of my waking hours are spent attempting to assist Henry, as he looks after his patients, or else amusing the patients to the best of my ability. He has insisted, however, that I take an hour or so for myself today, so I thought it best to bring this diary up to speed on all that has happened.

Dr. Carter and Tom slept throughout the entire ordeal. I believe Skinner slept for a large part of it as well, though I can never be entirely certain -- his eyes and eyelids are, after all, transparent. All was quiet.

In the tomb, Henry transformed into Edward in order to provide the strength needed to open the heavy stone coffin. He wrenched off the lid and, aided by torches, they searched the corners for the sleeping scarab. The metallic blue shell caught the firelight brilliantly. Mina pulled a pin from her hat and, with a neat jab, skewered the insect.

A strange shrieking seemed to emanate from the very walls of the tomb as Kiya resumed her true form. She lay in perfect repose, arms crossed over her chest. In a crisp, almost businesslike manner, Mina positioned the stake over the heart and ordered Edward to hammer it into place. Then Nemo severed the monster's beautiful head from her body, and the task was nearly finished. All that remained was to carry the corpse outside and set fire to it.

At what I can only assume was the precise moment the stake pierced her heart, Tom and Dr. Carter both gasped in their sleep and sat up, fully awake. The colour seemed to come rushing back into their pale faces, and almost at once, they both dropped back onto their pillows and began to sleep once more. No more was it the deathlike sleep of the days previous, however, but a natural, human slumber.

Skinner, too, came awake at that moment, and began to wheeze. Of course, no visible colour returned to his skin, but he clutched at his chest where she had first bitten him. He appeared to be choking.

I ran to his side and asked him urgently what was wrong. He seemed incapable of answering me, only continued to shake and gasp. He still had one hand pressed to the wound, and the other grasped at the open air. I seized this hand and clung to it, terrified, trying to guess how best to help him.

Abruptly, he stopped writhing and fell backwards. He lay as one dead on the cot for a few minutes. The hand I held in my own was limp.

"R-Rodney?" I asked tentatively. I had never addressed him by his Christian name before, and perhaps this shocked him a bit. His head turned sharply in my direction, startling me.

"Bess?" The voice was weak yet, but stronger than it had been. He put his hand up to my face.

"I'm here."

"Bess...I think we won."

"Funny," I said lightly, hoping he wouldn't notice how close I was to weeping, "I think you're right."

11 October 1899

All three of the patients continue to do well. Dr. Carter has made the swiftest recovery, and happily, he seems to have no memory of the time he spent under Kiya's control. Henry has convinced him that he and Tom have, like Skinner, been ill for several days with a violent fever. Another few days of bed rest and he should be well enough to make his trip to Upper Egypt; once he has recovered and left our company, we will return to Alexandria and, from there, to the Nautilus.

Tom is envious of Dr. Carter; he wishes that he too could simply forget it all. Skinner retains just bits and pieces of his memory of events. Since he actually was afflicted with the fever, and was coherent only part of the time, this is to be expected.

We have now fully traded accounts of everything that happened on that night, and everyone in the League knows the full story. After Edward killed Kiya, and Nemo separated her head from her body, they built a bonfire in the sand. Within an hour of her death, the vampire had been reduced to nothing more than smoke and memory. They reeked of it when they returned; Henry (his formula having been used up) was covered in Kiya's blood.

Mina seems rather subdued. Even though Kiya's destruction was absolutely necessary, I think she found it nevertheless difficult to watch. I don't believe it is her fate; I can't imagine her ever giving in to the desire for innocent blood. Yet on the other hand, she may someday tire of immortality -- and the sentence they passed on Kiya may be the only way she can end it. I can see why that would disturb her deeply.

In any case, she has been spending more and more time alone with Henry. The whole incident seems to have brought them closer than ever.

14 October 1899

Today we bade farewell to Dr. Carter. He is almost fully recovered from his recent "illness" and is quite anxious to begin his work in Upper Egypt. Owing to our curious gypsy lifestyle, it would be hard to maintain written correspondence with our friend, but we have promised to seek him out if ever we return to Egypt.

Skinner, too, is quite well, as is Tom. I believe Tom's memory has not faded any further, much as we all might desire that for him. He has not confided in me on this particular issue, but I suspect he feels somehow guilty and unclean. I imagine I would probably feel likewise, had I been in his position. I am afraid it will be a long time before he forgives himself.

Skinner has been a bit sketchy on a few details, so I extended to him a privilege I have never granted anyone else. I permitted him to read the entries in this diary pertaining to the events of the days while he was ill. This seems to have given him a better understanding of all that has happened. It has also given us an excuse to resume what has become our customary banter.

"You called me Rodney?" he asked with a grin. "I only let my mother call me Rodney, and only on her birthday."

"I was going for the element of surprise. I won't do it again."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me if you do it or not, Bess. Call me whatever you want." He finished reading, then, roguishly, made as though to read earlier entries.

"Give me that!" I took the book away from him.

"Ooh, right, don't want me to see where you've written down your unending devotion to your true love." I was glad he was being silly again, because it meant he was being himself, but I swatted him anyway.

"I haven't got a true love, thank you."

"What! Not planning to elope with Nemo?"

I admit he startled me there, for usually his jokes about my romantic prospects are centred on Tom. "No, as a matter of fact, I wasn't." Feeling that I owed him a bit of surprise myself, I added, "But it's not a bad idea, come to think of it."

He snorted. "The day you run off with the captain is probably the day he lets me pilot the sub." I had to laugh at the picture of Skinner actually being allowed to control the Nautilus; Nemo would sooner blow her out of the water than relinquish control of his precious "lady."

18 October 1899

We made better time returning to Alexandria than we did leaving it, owing partly to the fact that this time we sailed with the river's current instead of against it. Nemo has returned the boats to their owner, while the rest of us went back to the same marketplace we visited on our first visit.

I am mindful that Christmas is approaching in the none-too-distant future, and am trying to think of gifts I can prepare for my friends; I realize that some of them -- Nemo especially -- may not observe the holiday as I do, but I see no harm in presenting them each with a small gift. I am having difficulty coming up with ideas, but have decided to start work on the first. I purchased some men's handkerchiefs, made from fine Egyptian linen, and plan to monogram them with one of the men's initials. I hope that ideas for gifts for the others come quickly.

We ate one last luncheon in Alexandria, enjoying some of the local cuisine. The farmers here grow pomegranates and figs, so we had a fair few of those; we also sampled some excellent wild game. While we ate, we discussed our next venture; it was agreed that, since we are in the Mediterranean, it made sense to visit Greece before setting off for America.

Then we returned to the Nautilus -- how good it felt to come home!

Here ends this stage of Miss Elizabeth Quatermain's adventures with the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Look for further mystery and mayhem in volume three, "The Wintering."