See Part One for story details.
THE ELDRITCH SKY
Vastra returned to their small lodgings to find her beloved companion still in a deep sleep. Deep but less troubled than it had been for the two days previous. Vastra leaned over the small, pale figure checking Jenny's pulse and temperature. Both were calming and with them Vastra was calming too.
She had been terrified as Jenny collapsed into her arms and it had taken her some considerable time to realise that the turbulence that had so buffeted the vessel had given way to the strange calm that surrounded it. With the realisation came the knowledge that they must find their way ashore as soon as possible. Vastra did not wish to harm any hapless apes who might stumble upon them as they investigated the ship.
Vastra had carried her lover back to the Captain's cabin and laid her gently in the small cot before returning to the hold. There she collected the strange artefact and carefully stowed the evil little relic back in its housing. On her way to the upper deck Vastra had collected clothing and money from the various cabins, shoving them all into a large chest that she had liberated from the hold. They served to cushion the restless movement of what also lay within.
The chest, Jenny- now wrapped in what few dry blankets could be found - and every money pouch Vastra had found in her petty thieving were safely placed in one of the lifeboats. The other had been holed from below by a heavy, serrated blade. With all of Vastra's rapidly waning strength, she had lowered the lifeboat over the side. Praying as it hit the water with rather more of a splash than she had intended, Vastra thanked the Goddess when it remained afloat. Then she cast one last look around the ravaged deck and dropped down.
Just in time, Vastra remembered, as there were vessels rapidly approaching from the nearby harbour. Her arms still ached from pulling hard around the vessel and bringing them to an abandoned part of New York's docks. From there, stolen disguise hastily donned, it was only a matter of finding suitable lodgings.
Vastra looked up from tending to her lover and sighed. The place was better than a flophouse but hardly a respectable establishment. Still, it was close to the docks, reasonably clean and the proprietress chose to ask the bare minimum of questions once a quantity of gold coin had been pressed into her palm. A few more and clean, if greying, sheets had appeared, more still and a tin pail large enough to serve as a bath had arrived as well.
And Jenny had slept, tossing and turning in a manner that had troubled her lover greatly. Vastra had not left the room for over a day, reading the Captain's logs when she was not fussing over Jenny or resting. When the thrashing had given way to a calmer, deeper rest, Vastra had forced herself out of the room. A few more coins had ensured that it would not be disturbed, allowing Vastra to return with provisions.
Then the waiting and research had resumed, though Vastra had a much clearer idea of what was going on, if not why. Her most recent excursion had answered some of that too and now she would wait with growing impatience for Jenny's waking.
"You alright, Madame?" a low, rough voice said.
Vastra looked back to the bed, startled that she had fallen into such a deep revelry. Jenny's dark eyes were open, the pupils stark against the pale skin. There was a twinkle in them though and Vastra felt something shift in her chest. She smiled and leaned down to drop a gentle kiss to the warm lips.
"My dear, how are you?" Jenny groaned as she attempted to sit up and Vastra's hand shot out to still her movement. "You have been asleep for some time and must remain still for a moment more."
Jenny gave a characteristic snort and Vastra laughed. "How long this time?" she asked cautiously, aware of the toll her body's reaction to stress could have on her lover.
"A little over two days."
"Sorry," a small hand burrowed out of the covers and pressed to Vastra's scales, "Didn't mean to scare you."
"I have used the time quite productively, my dear." To Jenny's raised brow, Vastra added, "and I believe that I have a sense of the situation as of now. Though I suspect that you might have a better idea of the historical facts. Yes?"
Jenny thought back to the visions that had overwhelmed her as she held the artefact. Thinking of the ugly little thing made her shiver and Vastra returned her arm to the covers and patted them down around her. Jenny wriggled a little but Vastra would not let go.
"I'm not a Mummy, Madame."
"I should hope not," Vastra's teeth flashed bright, "it would be most inconvenient in our relationship."
Jenny laughed and her skin took on more of its natural hue. Vastra eased her tight hold on the covers and helped Jenny to sit up. A glass of water appeared in her hand and Jenny sipped greedily at it before settling back into the pillow and staring at the room.
"You first, eh?" Vastra did as bidden and Jenny took it all in before recapping, "So this Wilcox bloke's an artist and a collector and now we've got his newest treasure?"
"Most succinctly put." Jenny looked around wildly and Vastra added quickly, "Though not here, my dear. I have secreted the artefact elsewhere."
"That's a relief," Jenny said and then as an after thought, "What is it with artists? Are they all bonkers?"
Vastra sighed, "You could be forgiven for thinking so."
"And his art, his own I mean, what's it like?"
"Somewhat outre, by all accounts."
Jenny considered the word, "You mean bloomin' odd, don't you Madame?"
"That would seem to be equally descriptive, yes. He appears to have had some sort of mental breakdown in his youth - a youth spent in the place from whence the cargo came, incidentally - and may not have fully recovered from that time. His art may represent that time or indeed what he saw during that time."
"He's a mad collector then," Jenny emphasised the 'mad' and added, "There seems to be a lot of them about."
"Rather more than is healthy in one race," Vastra smiled, the tension in her back easing at Jenny's increasing colour.
"We'll be off to see him then, Madame?" Vastra raised a brow and Jenny's colour darkened a little, "After I've told you what happened back in the hold, of course." Jenny explained the visions as best she could, aware again of the limitations of her vocabulary. She ended with, "But none of it felt like something outside of me. It was more like a memory but not my own. Like that thing," she waved her hands around vaguely, "stored them up for later. Would be handy really, if it wasn't for the whole mad priests and scary creatures thing."
Vastra was silent for a long moment and Jenny watched her face shift as she considered her words. After a while, Vastra said, "Perhaps that is what this Wilcox desires? To see the memories of," she trailed off.
"Something ugly and nasty and not very friendly either? Not sure why."
"Something that he worships, perhaps? There are such humans after all."
"Only one way to find out," Jenny said and freed herself from the covers, "Just give me ten minutes and something to eat and I'll be ready."
The something to eat was provided immediately, dense biscuits and cheese in a greasy wrapping being offered in place of the water.
Jenny was not allowed to rise though. Vastra stood and began to undress. Jenny grinned, "Something more pressing, Madame?"
Vastra's teeth flashed in a lascivious smile but she shook her head, "I require rest also. I have been researching extensively and have not slept for some time."
Jenny pouted, "I hope you're not thinking of sleeping on the floor," she said and held the covers up with her free hand.
Vastra fluttered her multiple eyelids in a strange approximation of the coquettish and said, "I most certainly do not."
It was another two days before the pair were ready to begin their investigation. They were refreshed and most certainly invigorated, though Vastra privately chastised herself for allowing their rest and then sport to delay them quite so long.
"Not regretting anything are you?" Jenny said as if reading her mind.
She was struggling to button up the dress that Vastra had acquired for her from the passenger's luggage. The thought of wearing a dead woman's clothes was sobering but, as Jenny reminded herself, hand-me-downs of many sorts had kept her clothed for much of her life. The little tin bath by the weak fire was a reminder of her old life too, though their reason for being here was far removed from that time.
"Most certainly not, my dear," Vastra said as she too fumbled with unfamiliar garb, "but we really must get on. You have eaten nothing substantial for some time and require a good meal. I admit, I am somewhat peckish myself."
Jenny refrained from making an off-colour jest and said, "What have you been eating then?" She paused when Vastra's cheeks darkened. "Madame! I hope he deserved it at least."
"He most certainly did. A thoroughly disagreeable man," Vastra rubbed her stomach and looked pained, "in both senses."
Jenny laughed and picked up the ugly carpet bag that Vastra insisted they must take with them. It had little additional weight, only a few necessaries that Vastra had packed under Jenny's confused gaze. Vastra's reminder that they must collect the artefact had done little to draw Jenny from the safety of her bed but drawn she had been and now Vastra pulled down her veil just as they stepped from the room.
Jenny's face fell when she saw the rest of their lodgings. Apparently her lover had done much by way of cleaning while Jenny lay unconscious and their room had been considerably improved by it. The building itself was an old, ramshackle place not very much better than Mrs Jenkins' boarding house. From the sounds that came through the thin walls as they hurried along the corridors and down the staircase, most of the occupants were partaking of the same activity that she and her lover had not too long before.
Jenny blushed at the thought and hurried on. Vastra was already at the bottom of the stairs but could go no further. She had been intercepted by a tall yet slight woman whose face had been ravished by some unfortunate event.
"Ah, Mrs Parker, my companion is much improved and we intend to take a little air," Vastra said.
"You'd be lucky to get a breath out there!" the woman said in a surprisingly loud voice.
Jenny had to concentrate to understand the heavily accented words. For the first time in this whole strange adventure, she felt out of place. Odd, she thought, that you could feel more foreign on your own planet.
To the woman she said, "Is there a problem?"
The woman tilted her head and studied her with one small but piercing eye. She gave a harrumph, glanced accusingly at Vastra and only then responded, "That damned weather's come ashore. Never seen anything like it; half the docks been shut down."
"Which half, pray?" Vastra said.
"Pray? Pray! You damn well should pray, lady."
"As indeed I do, Mrs Parker," Vastra said and calmly handed over a fistful of gold. The woman's expression softened immediately, a little sigh escaping her lips as she counted the coins. "Yet we really must go out. Our room will be undisturbed when we return, yes?"
"Gave my word, didn't I? Keeps my word, don't I?"
"I have no doubt you do."
And with that, Vastra eased aside the housekeeper and made for the door. Jenny bobbed a half-hearted curtsey, which earned her another loud harrumph and then hurried to catch up.
Mrs Parker had not been exaggerating and the weather beyond was truly awful. Awful, Jenny realised in the same way that it had been on the ship. They stood in an eerie light that itself wrapped around a darker, shifting area of roaring winds and gusting rain. Looking up, Jenny saw the effect was something like a tunnel turned on its side. She had not seen the ship's plight from the outside but this must have been how it appeared from shore.
"The weather," Vastra said, "has been worsening for the past few days."
"And it'll be centred about where you buried that thing, won't it Madame?"
"It would," Vastra allowed as she shepherded Jenny through the oddly deserted streets. "From the Captain's writings and what I have been able to learn from the local sailors, such weather patterns follow the artefact wherever it goes. It certainly followed the poor Captain on his short journey."
"But the village I saw, they had calm weather. In my vision I mean. The sun was good and bright, even if the place was dark as sin." Vastra considered her lover for a moment, surprised by the choice of words. Jenny shrugged, "In a manner of speaking."
"Indeed. I can only surmise that the artefact causes such difficulties only when it is unattended, as it were."
"It needs fools to worship it?"
"Quite, my dear, and it would appear that the human race has more than its far share of such creatures."
"So what else have you learned then?"
An errant gust of wind knocked Jenny off her stride. Vastra was immediately at her elbow and she took the proffered arm gratefully.
"You are still weak, Jenny, I should not have -"
"Don't you start mithering me, thank you very much. Just you tell me the rest of it. I've a terrible sense that this will get worse before it gets better and I don't need any vision to tell me that."
They walked on in silence for a little way. Vastra eased them through the narrow alleys until they were in a more open area that housed offices of various nautical matters. There were a few eateries too and Vastra lead Jenny into one. The place had no other patrons but one very worried looking owner who was pathetically gratefully for their custom. Jenny beamed at the man and he brightened in turn, lavishing them with attention as they ordered a meal that contained surprisingly large portions.
"Now, Madame, tell me more about this Wilcox and why we should risk taking that thing to him."
They spoke in hushed tones despite their isolation while their food was consumed with some gusto by Jenny and rather more consideration by her companion. Jenny's eyes proved at least as big as her belly and she finished both meals before declaring herself quite pleased with the feast.
The owner beamed as they left his establishment and stepped back out into the ominous light. Vastra recounted the last of her investigations and Jenny considered as they walked further away from the boarding house and into the heart of the troubled weather.
"So his company don't have the foggiest, pardon the pun, about this business? That's a heck of a secret to keep but I suppose those rich recluses can get away with it," Jenny thought for a few moments and then said, "Do you really think we can persuade him to help us and not just take this thing away?"
Vastra flashed a dangerous smile, her teeth shining in the increasing darkness, "I believe with our combined talents, we may be able to do so."
"You don't like those sort of tactics, remember," Jenny warned.
"I do not, I admit, but I am not above the use of a little coercion in such dire circumstances."
Jenny grimaced at the choice of words but could not argue with the sentiment. Vastra waved her to a halt, handed over the bag and then stepped through a narrow gap between two rickety buildings. Jenny kept a careful look out but there was no one around. They'd barely seen another living soul since they left the boarding house and no-one since the restaurant. The place looked and felt like a ghost town and that idea did not help Jenny's mood at all.
Much shuffling and bumping issued from the hiding place and then Vastra returned, her coat dirtied somewhat but her hands full of a heavily wrapped parcel. Jenny opened the bag, snapping it shut again once Vastra had eased her cargo inside. The bag almost fell from her hand despite a tight grip, the statuette seeming to add tonnes to the weight. Vastra quickly took the handle from her and hefted the bag with grunt before leading them back to their lodgings.
"What now then, Madame?" Jenny asked as they walked.
The inky light seemed to shift and warp around them, the tunnel of troubled weather following them as they walked. There was a charge in the air. Jenny thought it felt like standing too close to one of those funny machines that they showed off at the great fairs.
"I believe we will require a carriage to take us to the Wilcox estate. One with a trustworthy driver."
A carriage was found and the driver so handsomely reimbursed for his time that he was quite sympathetic to their requirements. The horses were duly whipped into a decent pace and Vastra and Jenny found themselves safely ensconced in a sound, if not entirely commodious, seat.
Jenny watched, fascinated as the docks gave way to tenements that looked not unlike those back home before they gave way to impressive brown stone buildings and on to the even more impressive sight of New York's heartland.
Vastra enjoyed the view too, though she was more distracted by her thoughts and by the itching sensation that the contents of her bag were causing in the carriage. She had insisted that it should remain with them when the driver tried to prise the handle from her grasp but now she regretted her decision.
"Why don't you just kick it under the seat," Jenny indicated the opposite bench, "it's driving you spare, Madame."
Vastra gave a faint nod, pleased and disturbed in equal parts by her lover's ability to read her mind. She gave the carpet bag a push with her foot until it was stowed away. The static around them eased just a little, though it was obvious that the troubled weather was following even this far from the shore. The horses were skittish too and their vehicle jerked with the poor creatures twitchy movements.
The women went back to their thoughts until, quite out of the blue, Vastra said, "I believe we require more assistance."
"Here? How would we do that?"
"Not here, no, but when we return home. Archie is most effective but he cannot be everywhere and I believe he might appreciate some assistance."
"Archie's Army?" Jenny laughed.
Vastra considered for a moment and said, "The Paternoster Irregulars, perhaps?"
"Oh, I like that. Yes, I'll see what I can do when we get back."
With a nod and an, "Excellent," Vastra considered the matter closed and went back to her contemplations. Jenny studied her for a moment, aware that the past few days - or was it weeks, she really had no idea - had been particularly stressful on the normally resilient Silurian.
She fished in her sadly depleted pockets and pulled out one of the many coins that they had taken from the ship. Vastra had been liberal with their application in pursuit of Jenny's comfort but they still had quite a stock. Vastra had said that the old woman at the boarding house had not been surprised to see the strange coins. There had been quite a few making the rounds amongst the city's lower sort. Somebody had been greasing palms, largely in and around the docks.
Jenny played the coin in her palm, considering each side. Solid gold, no doubt, but they really were quite ugly little discs. Decorated with imagines not far removed from the horrible object in the bag, they made Jenny uncomfortable and she wrapped her hand around the coin as if it might attempt an escape.
She was still clutching it when the carriage slowed and turned into a long, winding road that gave way to a track. It was not the grand entrance to an estate that you found in England and Jenny was disappointed by it. Vastra noted the difference too but she was more concerned. The track felt like a warning to the unwary traveller rather than a design flaw.
The carriage bounced and swayed on until the driver slowed the tired horses and they came to an uncomfortable halt outside high, imposing gates. Vastra reached for the bag before she opened her door and dropped down unaided. The driver looked most put out and handed Jenny from the same door with a flourish.
"Thank you kindly," Jenny said and added, "Probably best you wait here, eh?" with a nod to the large, annoyed looking man who had appeared on the other side of the thick black bars of the gate.
Vastra was already there and greeted the man formally. He did not appear overly surprised at her accent and merely said, "No visitors, ladies."
"We wish to speak with Mr Henry Wilcox, my good man," Vastra said and the man's face soured even more.
Jenny winced and said, "What Madame Vastra means to say, Sir, is that we have something that Mr Wilcox will certainly want to see."
The man's eyes darted down to the bag and then returned to Jenny's deliberately innocent face for a moment before flicking back to Vastra.
"I doubt that very much, Miss. Now, if you'd like to leave, ladies."
It was not a question but Vastra answered it anyway, "We would not."
Jenny winced again. She feared this would not end well and considered showing the man exactly what was in the bag but thought better of it. Instead she eased Vastra aside and held up the coin.
"Would this help, Sir?" she didn't think he was the sort to be bribed but it was worth a try.
The man's eyes widened as he considered the coin. Without another word he began the laborious process of opening the gate. The man hadn't taken the coin, merely stared at it and that left Jenny blinking in surprise. She looked up to Vastra, who appeared more relieved than startled.
Vastra flashed a grateful smile to her lover before accepting the man's suddenly obsequious invitation to enter. Jenny followed and offered the coin to him by way of gratuity. He stepped back from her proffered hand, a flash of panic on his face before he gave a definite shake of the head and turned to lock the gate behind them.
They waited a moment until he indicated that they should follow him up what was now a neatly laid, though still understated pathway. Tall trees lined their route so that they could see little until the path began to widen and the trees thin. As they neared, a relatively newly-built mansion house came into view.
It was nicely appointed but had little of the character of such homes in England. It was set in wide grounds that stretched out to the sweeping line of trees on one side of the estate and an expanse of water on the other. A jetty ran alongside, a landing for much larger vessels than would be expected for such a place.
The house itself was surrounded by a gravel path and strange statues were dotted around in lieu of flora. Jenny eyed the pieces, shivering at the sight of more than one. Vastra walked close to her as they crunched their way across the gravel and up to the large black door, both women regretting their ill-fitting shoes.
The man yanked at a long bell pull and a clanking sound came from within. It was answered by an ancient butler of such decrepitude that Jenny felt an urge to hurry to his aid. The gate-man waved them into the butler's care with a look of relief and hurried away from the house without a word.
"Ladies?" the old butler inquired. Jenny flashed the coin at him and he gave a long, low, "Ah," before stepping aside to beckon them in.
Vastra went first, keeping a firm grip on the carpet bag even as the butler attempted to take it from her. Another, "Ah," answered the gesture and they walked on in silence through the high-ceilinged entrance hall.
It was more gallery than mansion, the walls crammed with bas-relief of strange visions. Some looked familiar to Jenny and she tensed as she studied them. Vastra put a comforting hand on her arm and hoped that it would serve to calm her companion. There was certainly something unpleasant about the place but she found Jenny's reaction even more unsettling.
"Brave heart, my dear," Vastra whispered.
Jenny forced a smile and nodded, "Brave heart, Madame."
The butler struggled to open the doors to what proved to be a nicely decorated reception room and indicated that they should take their seats. He once again attempted to free Vastra of the bag, though he had made no move to divest them of their coats.
Vastra hissed at the man through her veil and he skittered back in surprise. His expression turned to weary understanding and Vastra's fear increased. Just what had this wizened old ape seen in his lifetime? And just what had his master added to that list?
Vastra had no time to consider further for just as the old man was backing out of the room, a young man appeared behind him. He spoke a few quiet words to the butler, instructing him to have the rest of the household return to their cottages. The butler did not appear surprised by the order but merely nodded and left.
The young man stood in the doorway and considered the two women before stepping forward and saying, "I am Henry Wilcox. And you are?" without preamble.
Jenny stood, offered the man a vague curtsey and looked to Vastra. She remained seated, the bag at her feet, one hand lingering above the handle.
"I am Madame Vastra and this is my colleague, Miss Jenny Flint. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Wilcox."
She did not offer her hand and neither did Wilcox. His small head tilted thoughtfully, pale eyes narrowing as they flicked between the women. Both had the sense that he knew their names. Apparently their reputation had spread far and wide. That thought troubled Vastra greatly, though Jenny appeared to be quite bolstered by the idea.
"And in there?" he said, his eyes falling on the bag.
Now Vastra stood to her full height, the bag left at her feet, "We believe that you may be missing a certain," she paused in an unusually dramatic manner, "objet d'art, Mr Wilcox. One with very particular significance?"
Wilcox blinked, hope - or joy, or lust, neither woman could be sure - bringing his entire face to life. He looked less the austere gentleman that he had on entering the room and more a little boy with his heart set on a new toy. His spare frame seemed to swell and his back straighten. It was ecstasy, Vastra thought, like some sort of religious rapture had overtaken him. She had seen it amongst the more devout adherents of her own faith and amongst many of the apes too. It could lead Silurian and Human alike into a great deal of woe.
"Would you like a tour of the place?" Wilcox said and turned to lead them out of the room before either woman could answer.
Jenny blinked up at Vastra, startled by the sudden change in his mood. Vastra gave a faint shrug, hefted the bag and offered her other arm to Jenny. They processed across the hall and into a large, bright room that ran along the entire length of the house. It was a library of immense proportions with high, wide windows giving a good view of the water beyond.
The shelves were lined with books, many of them very old, and any wall space not shelved held glass cases like those of a museum. It reminded Jenny of the Borlsover's library when first they had arrived at Paternoster Row. The thought was reinforced when she glanced at a few of the books. Any one of them might have featured in Eustace Borlsover's collection.
Wilcox said nothing, his eyes still bright as he watched the two women consider some of his most prized possessions. Vastra was aware that those same eyes always dropped back to the bag, as if the man were concerned that it might disappear in an instant.
She too looked around the room, the same wary realisation coming to her as to Jenny. Blessedly, Wilcox appeared not to have quite such dangerous books as those of the late Eustace Borlsover but he certainly had a wide interest. There were a number of tomes by the mad missionary Sigismund Cartwright and a great many other texts along the same lines.
Vastra heard the gasp from her companion and was at Jenny's side immediately. She stood before one of the large display cases, one with a prominent place in the room despite containing a very old, very rough manuscript. The pages were thin and torn, bound together in a skin of some kind but held in place more by the case itself than any craftsmanship of the book's creator.
Vastra touched Jenny's arm gently and looked through the lace of her veil, hoping that her concern would communicate itself despite the material. It did, as always with her lover and Jenny gave a little nod and whispered, "Saw that on the ship, Madame."
"On the," Vastra began but then realised her lover's meaning.
So this was the manuscript that Jenny's monk had illuminated and the soldier's accomplice had carried? Vastra leaned in to the case and studied the papers as best she could. Through the stains of ages only some of the faded text could be made out. What little Vastra could see gave her greater concern. It was written in a script or cypher so foreign as to be gibberish to her eyes. Vital gibberish, though, of that Vastra was sure.
"I thought you might be interested in that," Wilcox said, "The last surviving copy of what may be the most important text in the study of these things."
"These things, Sir?" Jenny said.
Wilcox smiled, "I doubt I must say more, Miss Flint. You are aware of the import of the object you claim," his eyes dropped to the bag greedily, "to have?"
"I believe we may have some experience of such things," Vastra allowed.
She would have said more but Wilcox interrupted, "Please don't misunderstand me, Madame Vastra. I am not of the same ilk as Professor Borlsover." Both women started at the name and Wilcox explained, "I do not worship these so-called Gods as those madmen do, I assure you. Rather I have an artistic interest, not a religious mania."
You could have fooled me, Jenny thought and knew that Vastra was of the same mind. You could see it in the man's eyes, even if he couldn't see it in the mirror. He was obsessed and obsession was at least as dangerous as religious mania, particularly when it involved anything that had resided at the Borlsover residence.
"Then you simply wish to use the artefact's remarkable powers?" Vastra hedged, "As of a reference?"
Wilcox beamed, "I have the perfect spot for it," he said before leading them to the far end of the library, "This is a library after all, what better place to keep such a library of the imagination?"
He stopped where the shelves and tables gave way to an ornately curtained area. When Wilcox pulled the heavy material back it revealed an open space with a large easel set in a bay window, a pedestal beside it. A low stand held the brushes and other tools an artist would need to work on a sizeable canvas.
"The artefact is a repository of," Vastra hesitated, "memories?"
"Dreams, I believe, the dreams of men and of other beings. Perhaps even the dreams of the greatest being of all. Many years ago I was struck down with a fever of some severity. I experienced such dreams as to shape my art for a lifetime."
"But now you want more?" Jenny said.
"I find that a lifetime's worth of dreams cannot be measured. I learned first of this particular treasure when I studied with a Sumatran Priest during my travels in the Orient. He assured me that such dreams as true art are made of exist only in the heart of it."
Completely bonkers, Jenny thought but she said, "And the poor souls on the Star Of Mauritius?"
"A terrible loss and not at all what I would have wished. I admit, I should have travelled to collect the piece myself," he shook his head sadly, "I assure you, ladies, I will make reparations to the families of all affected."
Vastra considered the man through the heavy material of her veil. He certainly believed what he said but of course he would, anyone infected with such a terrible malady as blind faith could be utterly convincing. She glanced around the library, her eyes lingering on the ancient manuscript in pride of place on the wall.
Her research and what little she had learned during and since their first encounter with the Borlsover family had convinced her that such artefacts could be controlled by the correct means. They must find those means and this man - as mad as he might be - was their only hope so far from home.
With a little nod of decision, she reached down and opened the bag. "Madame!" Jenny hissed and Vastra struggled momentarily to ignore her lover's worried tone. The artefact must be deactivated in whatever manner was necessary and that, Vastra knew, would require that they take a risk. Alas, it was a risk that might destroy them all.
"Mr Wilcox, I believe you know what this is," she said as she hefted the artefact from the bag, dropped the handle and used her other hand to unwrap it.
Wilcox could barely hold back his excitement, his eyes widening until they seemed to be nothing but white in a pale face that was painted with ecstasy. Jenny tensed, her hands clasped at her side, her whole body ready to dash the evil little thing to the ground. But Vastra obviously had a plan and she could only hope that whatever the plan required would come about before any unfortunate visitors arrived.
Vastra held the artefact in her palm, offering it to Wilcox with a keen gaze. She could feel it begin to twitch in her hand, her scales shifting uncomfortably beneath it. Her eyes darted to Jenny, seeing the tension but relieved to see no signs of the visions that had affected her on the ship. There was always the possibility that her beloved companion was now linked to the thing in some way and that could be a terrible complication.
Jenny remained ramrod straight and tensed for action. Wilcox fairly floated the few steps to reach out and with the most reverent of expressions, place his hands under the statuette. Jenny thought that he looked like a proud father picking up his newborn babe for the first time and it sickened her even more. Memories of the child on the beach came to her mind and she had to force them back to remain focused on what was happening in the room.
Vastra came to Jenny's side and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. They stood together and watched as Wilcox held the object in his arms much as the priest in the caves. He looked down upon it and sighed deeply, a life's work fulfilled in that one moment.
The women forgotten, he began to mutter something. Jenny thought that it might be the words of a father to a child but then realised that the air was becoming uncomfortable with the rising charge of the hold. As Wilcox turned to the curtained area she glanced through the large windows and saw that the skies above were changing. The eerie light of their journey now gave way to the unnatural darkness of the ship.
"Madame," Jenny hissed again.
"Remain calm, my dear," Vastra said, aware that she was risking everything now, "If he can activate the device, I believe he can deactivate it too."
"I hope you're right."
As indeed do I, Vastra thought but she said nothing. Wilcox was standing in the window now, back to them and arms raised along with his voice. His chant was loud and firm, his thin arms strong as they hoisted the statuette above his head as if presenting it to the troubled skies.
Through the window, Vastra noticed that a number of members of his staff had come out of their cottages to stare in fear. Not all were looking up though, with many staring in horror at the water below them. Vastra could not see what troubled them so but her scales flared in reaction.
Suddenly the sky dropped to a thick, inky black and then broke in huge lightning strikes that captured the scene below in flashes of fiery red light. The staff panicked, some running back to their cottages, others abandoning their posts and heading for the gates. Behind them the water was churning so badly that the waves could be seen even from the house. The previously placid shore roiled and spat, frothy flecks of a sickly green substance splashing into the air and crashing to the land.
Wilcox's words faltered and Jenny thought the man had finally come to what was left of his senses. She took a step forward, only to realise that he was still chanting but now in a voice so weakened as to be barely audible. His arms no longer appeared strong, his whole body sagging beneath the ever-growing weight of the pulsating object.
He gave a long hiss of pain, his arms shaking visibly but remaining aloft. Jenny shook off Vastra's arm and ran to him. She gave a gasp of horror as she rounded on the man and took a look at his face.
Where it had been pale and thin, now it was ashen and drawn. His eyes were filled with blood that trickled down his cheeks like tears. His mouth kept chanting but seemingly despite himself. He struggled to turn towards Jenny, his breathing coming in rapid little pants like a wounded animal.
"Let go, Sir!" she shouted but received only a blank stare.
Beneath the cacophony of screaming people, violent seas and lightning it was hard to hear his words but his lips still twitched. His arms were sinking now, dropping despite the artefact's control. In one slow, surprisingly fluid motion Wilcox crumpled to the floor. The ugly little statue glowed and pulsed angrily where it fell at his side.
Both women eased away from it as they crouched to tend to the man. His face was drenched with blood as it seeped from his eyes and mouth. His breaths were shallow and irregular, more gasps than pants. Yet even through the intense red of his own lifeforce, there was a look of such sad realisation in his eyes that Jenny could have wept for the man. She placed a gentle hand to his face, ignoring both the warm stickiness of the blood and the hiss of warning from her lover.
Vastra watched as Jenny leaned over the man, bending close to his face for a moment before looking up in surprise. "My dear," Vastra said, half in fear, half in question.
Before Jenny could answer to either, Wilcox gave one long, shuddering breath and fell still. Both women looked outside hopefully but the sky remained black and the water still roiled audibly. Beside them there was no change to the artefact, it pulsed with an angry light that matched the lightning that threatened to strike the house itself. It seemed to grow and contract with each pulse, its colour shifting through some unnatural range that hurt their eyes.
"The book," Jenny said, remembering Wilcox's gasped words, "The book, Madame, he said to look in there."
Vastra rose and turned for the case in one movement, she rushed across the library and punched through the glass without thought for her own flesh. Shards tinkled around her and Vastra flicked the glass and blood from her hand before reaching in and yanking the manuscript from its perch. She struggled to keep the unbound pages in her grasp and hurried back.
Dropping back to the floor, she shed the armful of papers around them and rummaged through. Her movements were unusually frantic and Jenny understood why. There were large, oddly shaped creatures shambling up from the shore. They had cut down the members of staff who had remained by their cottages and now they were marching towards the house. Despite the darkness Jenny was sure they were the same green, scaly creatures she had seen in her visions. In the flashes of lightning that illuminated the area every few seconds now, she could certainly see the large blades that they all held aloft.
"Madame," Jenny said, aware of her lover's rising panic and more disturbed by it than the creatures themselves, "Madame, easy now. What do we need to do?"
Vastra looked up, seeing the faith in those beloved eyes and taking strength from it. She glanced down at the artefact as it shifted and shimmered in the half light. Looking back at the manuscript Vastra knew what must be done. Goddess forgive her but it was the only way.
Vastra gathered the pages together as best she could and placed Wilcox's limp but still warm hand atop them. She thought there may be the very last essence of life left in the man and hoped she was correct. Dragging the unfathomably heavy object across the carpet, she manoeuvred it closer to Jenny's side.
"Forgive me, Jenny," Vastra said, all of her fear evident in the tone, "but I must ask you to do this."
Jenny looked from Vastra to the evil little thing and then to Wilcox and shivered as she realised what was required of her. Without further comment - for what could she say? - she lifted both hands. One dropped to Wilcox's cheek and the other, more reluctantly, to the artefact.
The former was sticky with drying blood but Jenny ignored the sensation as she ignored the tide of revulsion that ran up her other arm. The artefact was slippery to her touch, the shape twisting as if attempting to free itself from her grasp. It was hot, then cold; soft, then hard; repulsive, then welcoming. At the last moment Vastra's hands gripped her face, long fingers pressing into Jenny's temples.
The visions chased through their minds, too many to be truly aware of but all with an overwhelming sense of evil. Visions of long forgotten creatures and far off places; visions of darkness and fear pervading the light of the world. And then they blurred and warped into a childhood of privilege and happiness; the depths of fever with dark dreams at least as terrifying as the visions themselves; and then a life spent in travel and art only occasionally troubled by the demands of commerce.
It all flashed by in seconds, registering only as moments caught as in a daguerreotype, until suddenly it came into sharp relief. A world of heat and colour, strange men in stranger garb who spoke in a tongue that Jenny did not know and yet understood. One was teaching a chant, calling out the words in a slow, sonorous tone and waiting as it was recited back to him.
Jenny heard a far off voice that sounded familiar. It was chanting the same strange words in a low but confident tone. The chant repeated without pause but not in the vision. The teacher was now talking about art but his words were fading as was the vision itself. Jenny tried to focus but it faded still. She felt herself fading with it. Or was that the life that cooled beneath her hand?
"Jenny!" came faint through the darkness and suddenly she was being shaken violently. The visions snapped closed like a book and then a bright light burned her eyes.
"Jenny, can you hear me?"
"Of course I can, you're shouting loud enough to wake the dead."
"Hardly," came the relieved but whispered response, "How are you feeling? Pray, open your eyes, my dear."
Jenny blinked hard as her eyes opened. She winced but the brightness soon faded to a more comfortable light and she smiled into the concerned face of her lover. Vastra sat back a little and gave a sigh, though she said nothing while Jenny took a moment to get her bearings once more.
"It worked then?"
"Extremely well, my dear."
Outside the light was a more natural afternoon glow and the water beyond the lawn was quiet and apparently still. As, alas, were the bodies that littered the area. There was no sign of the large, scaly creatures but there were tracks gauged deep where they had lumbered across the grass both towards and then away from the house.
Jenny looked down at Wilcox and knew that he was now quite dead. She reached out and eased his eyelids closed as gently as she could manage. Finally she forced herself to look to the statuette. It was still now, a dull sort of green colour in a crudely carved shape. There remained an air of evil about it and Jenny wanted to find a hammer and smash the thing to smithereens.
"I believe it may be best if we destroyed the ghastly thing," Vastra said.
Jenny gave a snort of mirthless laughter and said, "You read my mind, Madame." She paused, glancing back to Wilcox for a moment, and added sadly, "And his, I suppose."