Liz wondered what had happened to this man to make him so bitter. She moved closer to him in her curiosity, was surprised to see him retreat. “Are you afraid?” she asked.
He turned slightly away from her, gave her a sideways glance, “The light is strong inside you; stronger than I have seen in a long time. It is why you grew so ill at my presence. It has made me weak to force myself to remain with you,” he said.
She understood, nodded. “Light dispels the darkness,” she said.
His eyes narrowed but he continued to retreat from her presence. “You have no comprehension of how black the darkness can be. It can extinguish the light most people have in them. It is cold, miserable, lonely ... Your eyes ache from peering into the nothingness for a flicker of light, but there is none."
She moved to stop his retreat, reached a luminescent hand toward his dark form. “There is still light in you,” she said.
His laugh was low and pitiful, grave as he stared full into her face, waited in a futile kind of hope for her to be able to prove her statement. “You lie,” he said.
"I never lie,” she told him.
"There is no light here; look at me,” he commanded.
"There is light in you; I can see it. Look at the reflection of it in my eyes. You see? It is a lucent darkness, not blackness at all. Look how it shines with the light. It is a weak, pale incandescence; but it is there,” she insisted.
He rushed toward her and for a second she thought he would drain all the light from her soul as his form coalesced with hers, but the radiance was still there and as he pulled away from her, he also caught sight of his own glow. He looked at her, bewildered, “You are a she-devil! How do you trick me thus?"
"Every soul in the vast universe is imbued with the divine spark of light given it by the Creator. How can you believe you alone are different?” she asked.
"You are full of false words of hope and wicked trickery, woman!” he spat.
She considered his words, reached out her hand toward him yet again, her eyes locked with his. He stayed where he was until she felt her soul touch his and suddenly she could feel his pain in a palpable flood of emotions so overpowering she longed to put it as far away from herself as she could. She remained with her hand touching the heart of his essence until the senses became unbearable for her and still she offered her hand to him. “Not all women are full of trickery, Tarrh,” she soothed.
His eyes grew wide and agonized as she lingered in front of him, their spirits coalescing into a swirl of churning light and darkness, flowing into each other, then away from one another and back again. She felt herself being drained of her soul's brilliance, but she didn't care. She wanted this tormented creature to know some peace at last, even if it meant she had to lose her own essence. She gave and gave and would have continued to pour out her spirit to him, but she felt herself being carried away from Tarrh in strong arms.
"No!” she screamed. “Let me stay with him and help him."
"This is enough for now, little one,” came an answer so soft yet so authoritative it made her shiver. She turned to see two giant beings of pure white light so dazzling it made her squint at their brilliance.
"I can help him,” she protested.
"Perhaps,” said one of the angels, “but perhaps it is not to be helped. You cannot help this being by losing yourself to it, cherished one."
"That one has much to consider before it can be ready to accept help from anyone. You cannot save it now, even if it can be brought to the light.” the other being said.
"But why?” Liz asked. Why were they calling Tarrh it?
"Because it is time for you to return to your body. Your life on this plane is not yet finished. It was right, you know; if you stay here, your body will die; you must go back."
His words echoed deep inside her mind and then she lost consciousness. They were taking her back....
* * * *
Liz opened her eyes a mere slit and squinted into the light coming in the windows of the living room. After a few minutes of adjustment, she saw four faces peering at her. She recognized John, Kim and Joel, but not the other man as she blinked hard to try to focus in on him.
"Liz, this is Dr. Mark Adams. I called him to help us revive you,” John said in a strangely hollow and distant voice.
Liz opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She looked anxiously from one to the next of the faces that seemed to be floating before her. Gradually, the others took on dimension and form as she continued to try to speak.
"You are all right, Liz,” Dr. Adams said to her, giving her hand a reassuring pat. “Your larynx and most of your glands are swollen; that's why you're having trouble finding your voice. It's also the reason you blacked out; the swelling stopped most of your air flow."
Liz nodded that she understood, but she wasn't at all sure the good doctor fathomed the true reason she had blacked out. Joel anointed her twice with holy water, which had evicted Tarrh from her body with such force that it jolted her out as well. She frowned at Kim, who seemed also to be unaware of the spiritual encounter that had just taken place. Was that possible? Surely Kim had seen some of it! Or had she been too concerned over Liz's limp body to take note?
Dr. Adams secured the cold compress around her neck, continued to smile affably at her. His warm brown eyes danced at her as she tried to loosen the compress. He shook his head, placed it again along the base of her neck. He was about six feet tall, she estimated, although she was none too sure of the accuracy of her perceptions just now, and his hair was brown with lighter streaks nearing blond running through it. She put her hands to her sides, allowed Adams to secure the compress.
"That's a good girl,” he said with a smile. “This vocal thing is only temporary,” he assured her, “if you leave the compress on and just continue to breathe deeply, you should be able to speak as well as ever by tomorrow. I'm going to prescribe a little something to help alleviate the swelling."
She grimaced, nodded grimly.
He smiled again, revealing two wonderful dimples and beautiful, even white teeth. Nice, she thought. “What's the matter? Don't you like drugs?” he asked.
Liz shook her head.
"I could take you in to the hospital for the night, but I thought you might rather stay here and take a few pills,” he said.
Liz sighed heavily, mouthed the words; 'I'll be good.'
He smiled brightly. “'Atta girl! I know you will. But you probably need to have someone nearby tonight just in case the swelling comes back."
Liz rolled her eyes, shrugged.
"We'll take care of her,” Kim said.
Adams finished scribbling on a piece of paper, handed it to John, “Here is her prescription. Maybe you can pick it up and give her a tablet before bedtime. The injection I gave her should work until then. You're lucky you were not alone when this happened, you know,” he said to Liz.
Liz smiled, nodded.
"My greatest concern is that I can't find any cause for the swelling; must have been some kind of allergic reaction that caused the anaphylactic shock. If it was a reaction to something, we need to figure out what she's allergic to and make sure she isn't exposed to it again,” Adams said.
John took the prescription, folded it and slipped it into his pocket. “Thanks for coming, Mark. I'll personally make sure Liz isn't left alone tonight,” he said.
Adams nodded. “Good. I'll be back tomorrow morning to check on her. Nothing solid to eat, and I favor cold or cool over hot. Don't hesitate to call me if there are any more problems."
"Don't worry; you'll be the first to know,” John said.
"All right. Kim, it was nice to meet you; Father, see you at mass,” Adams said as he let John lead him toward the front door.
"Right, Mark,” Joel said with a smile. “See you at mass, unless Mrs. Weathersby's baby comes. Her babies always arrive during mass, you know."
At the front door, Adams eyed John, his hands in his pockets. “You going to stay here toni
ght, John?"
John nodded, “I thought it might be wise. What is it you aren't saying, Mark?"
Adams looked at the floor, his lips pursed, sighed, “The only time I've seen anything that looked exactly like this was when Luke Peters died of strangulation last fall after that brute Michaels choked him. Is there something you aren't telling me?"
John frowned. “No, nothing; one minute she was standing there with the rest of us and the next she was collapsing beside me."
Adams fixed John with a sincere stare, “Was she having trouble breathing before that?"
"Well, now that you mention it, maybe she was. She kept swallowing and she seemed to be having difficulty speaking,” John said.
"Hmm—well if I had to venture a guess, I'd say someone choked her, or she tried to strangle herself, maybe?” Adams said.
"That isn't possible—Liz wouldn't try to kill herself, and there was no one else here except Kim. They're the best of friends—” he stopped short, rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"What?” Adams asked.
John shook his head. “Nothing, Mark. You don't believe in ghosts, do you?"
"Ghosts?” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Well, everyone around here knows this place is haunted. If you're asking me to believe a ghost tried to strangle her, I'd have to say that is some ghost, John."
"Yeah,” John replied. “Well, thanks again, Mark. I'll go to town and get this prescription filled and I will stay here with the girls tonight, just to make sure everything is all right."
"Good idea. See you in the morning. I'll be at home for the rest of the day if you need me,” he said as he opened the door and walked out, closing it behind himself.
"See you in the morning,” John said to the door. Strangulation ... Liz said Tarrh had choked her in the dream. “Hell of a dream,” he mused as he walked back to the living room.
"What was that?” Joel asked.
John came to sit on the sofa at Liz's feet, patted her leg. “Don't worry. I will stay here tonight to make certain Tarrh won't have another shot at you."
Liz opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again when no words came out. Her throat hurt and she rubbed it but found it didn't really comfort her much.
John looked at Joel. “You remember when she told us about the dream, she said Tarrh choked her?"
"Yes?” Joel said.
"Well, Mark said the only time he ever saw anything quite like this was when old Luke Peters bought the farm last year,” John said.
"Luke Peters?” Kim asked.
"Yeah,” he said, “friend of his, Jack Michaels, got a little steamed up and choked poor Luke over a baseball game. Some other friends separated them before Michaels could complete the job and Luke went home in a huff. Later that evening, Luke died at home alone of asphyxiation because his windpipe was blocked by the latent swelling."
Liz shot him a glance.
"You did say Tarrh choked you and you thought you had died, didn't you?” John asked.
Liz looked at the floor, nodded her head slowly.
"Okay, well, I'm going to the kitchen to make something cold to drink. Anyone else want tea? Juice?” Kim asked. She needed a moment to herself to think.
Liz looked at Kim, signed a big J in the air, to indicate she wanted juice. Joel stood, followed Kim to the kitchen, “I'll help."
"I'm going to go get this prescription. Knowing the local drugstore, I may have to go all the way into Austin to have it filled, so I had better go ahead and get on the road,” John called after them.
Liz reached for his hand, looked at him in concern.
He patted her hand, held it in his. “Don't worry,” he assured her, “it will be all right. I'm not so afraid to stay here now. You and Kim might need me."
She smiled at him, sighed.
"Is there anything else you'd like me to bring when I come back?” he asked.
She pulled the pen out of his shirt pocket, took the pad of paper off the table, wrote: vanilla ice cream and cherry Jell-O, handed the pad to him.
He smiled at her. “All right, sweetie. Anything else?"
She mouthed the word. 'no.'
He looked deep into her eyes a minute, cupped her chin and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “You rest that throat of yours; I miss your voice."
She smiled, nodded.
"See you in a little bit,” he said.
She leaned back on the sofa, tried to get comfortable. The injection Dr. Adams had given her made her sleepy, and she dreaded sleep, but she knew it would do her no good to fight it. She gave John a little wave and blew him a kiss, whispered, “Be careful."
He smiled, nodded, then walked over to Joel when he and Kim re-entered the room, asked, “Joel, can you stay here until I get back?"
Joel looked at his watch, nodded. “I'll have to cancel some appointments, but I should be able to do that."
John breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I would just feel better if you were here while I'm gone."
Joel nodded, “You can count on me,” he assured John.
"All right, I'll return as soon as possible,” he said and left the room.
Chapter 21
Kim and Joel sat in the living room conversing quietly as Liz slept curled up on the oversized sofa. “So,” Joel began, “do you really believe this episode is the result of her being choked in a dream?"
Kim eyed Liz, shrugged, replied, “I don't know what to think, since she and I didn't really get the chance to discuss anything. I know she was upset, but she tried to act like it was nothing."
"I have to be frank with you; from what I can tell, there's nothing in Tarrh's writings that would indicate anything we can do to combat his presence here. It's almost like some of the manuscripts, with the real information about him, are missing. Basically, I haven't seen anything in any of the other writings that would shed any light on the matter, either,” he said.
Kim stared at Joel blankly. “What you're saying is this whole translation thing has been a waste of time?"
Joel stared at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. “I'm not sure it's a total waste of time, but unless there's something more we've yet to find, we are nowhere near learning enough to send Tarrh back where he belongs."
"But you said—"
"I know. I was trying to be positive, Kim, but in view of all that has happened we may not have enough time to finish all the translations before he makes his next move on Liz. Liz herself told us he has no intention of being sent back, and I have no more idea how to deal with him now than I did when we first started."
"That is a contingency I'm not prepared to accept. We have to find out everything Liz has learned and we have to talk to Ben McCann. I'm sure between the two of them—” Kim began.
Joel shook his head, stood and paced the floor. “Do you understand how tenuous Liz's position is? Tarrh has her in his clutches. Why he's even waiting to make his move, I can only guess. As for Benjamin, you can no more be assured the spirit you conjure up is truly Ben McCann than you could be sure Tarrh has made any true statements to Liz."
"So, what are you saying?"
"My counsel on this one would be for you and her to pack up your things and leave this place; go while both of you can still get out,” he advised.
Kim eyed him suspiciously, frowned and said, “That doesn't sound like you, Joel. Are you sure you are telling me everything?"
"What? You think I'm hiding some great revelation I've gleaned from Tarrh's manuscripts? I'll tell you what I am hiding; I'm hiding the fact this whole thing is starting to get under my skin. It is giving me the willies coming here and immersing myself up to my armpits in black magic and out-and-out evil, day in and day out,” he said as he raised his voice, blinked at her fiercely.
Kim nodded, stood and crossed to stand in front of him. “I see. Well, maybe you should stop coming, then. We thought because you're a man of God, you would be able to handle the stress. Maybe we were wrong. You need to do what you feel is best for you,�
� she said.
He took a deep breath and clenched his fists. “It isn't just that I am afraid of this, Kim. I have this impending feeling of doom for all of us; we may be about to get in over our heads, and we need to stop poking our noses in where we don't belong."
"Well,” she said, “like I said, if you feel you can no longer come here and help, I understand and I'm sure the others would, as well. Liz and I are already in this too deep to pull out now; we have to see it to completion."
"Why?"
"Have you ever met Betty Tatum?"
"No, I haven't, but I imagine even she would understand if you walked away from this right here and now,” he argued.
Kim nodded. “Yes, I agree she would understand, but she would never know any peace for the rest of her life. Joel, she's an old woman; she isn't going to be here that much longer and her mind needs to be set at ease before she leaves this plane."
Joel sighed heavily, stared again at the floor. “Do you really believe we can do anything to help her?” he asked.
"We have to. We're the only ones who can."
He looked at her intently, pursed his lips and threw his hands up in the air. “What do you want me to do?"
She studied his face and smiled compassionately. “Joel, if you really feel this is a bad idea for you, I want you to leave. I don't want you to continue coming here and working on something you think is doomed."
He shrugged. “I can't leave the rest of you here without my help, no matter how I feel about it. I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to the three of you and I had abandoned you. So, what do you want me to do?” he asked again.
"Well, if you think there is something Tarrh wrote that wasn't in the Crescent room, what we have to do is find it,” she said.
"How do you propose we do that?” he asked.
"Did the floor plan you found in Tarrh's manuscript have any hints about the hidden passages?"
A slow smile spread on his face. “Oh,” he said, “you think McCann hid one of the manuscripts?"
McCann's Manor Page 22
