“‘I try to scream, but nothing comes, like being caught in a nightmare and being unable to wake yourself up. I pass the mouth of the hole in the pyramid and tumble deeper into blackness. It sucks ever more eagerly at me...’
“‘I woke, sitting bolt upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat with fear pounding through me.’
“He smiled wanly.
“‘A fever dream you will say, and at any other time I might agree with you. But this was no mere dream – it had depth and verisimilitude, and on waking I remembered every single aspect of it with complete clarity. Even now it has not faded from memory.’
“‘I knew immediately on waking that I would get no more sleep that night. I came downstairs, to this very room, searching for more Scotch, hoping at least for some oblivion in the booze. I managed to get a couple of large snifters inside me, and was just starting to think I might go back to bed after all, when I heard it for the first time.’
“He went quiet, and I thought he had lost the will to tell us anything more. I could see in his eyes that whatever came next was the thing that had him in such a funk. More prompting from Doig and another helping of single malt strengthened his resolve enough for him to continue.
“‘It started as little more than a scratching, rustling noise. At first I thought it was a rat – we have periodic periods where they pay attention to us – but this was too regular, too insistent. I spent a good twenty minutes trying to track it down but to no avail. Eventually it stopped and by that time I had too much liquor inside me to care anymore. I fell into a drunken stupor in this very chair. Not the most comfortable position in which to spend the night, and my back complained mightily for hours afterwards, but at least there were no more dreams, and if the scratching did recur, I was too far gone to pay it any heed.’
“‘In the morning Mrs. Jameson also remarked that it might be best if we took a cat into our employ, so I took it that she too had heard a rat, and I forgot all about it… for all of one night.’
“‘During the daylight hours that day the events of our trip to the island started to fade, becoming distant and dreamlike. I even began to blame you, James, for putting ideas into my head. I had some magistrate’s duties to perform in the afternoon, and by the time I returned home I almost felt like my old self, just a twinge in my back to show for my night spent in the chair.’
“‘But it seemed that the haunt was not ready to let me go. I was lying abed that next night and just on the verge of some much needed sleep when I heard it again. There seemed almost to be a rhythm to it, a message I might be able to decipher if only I had the code-breaking clue.’
“‘I was to get no sleep that night, spending several hours chasing the noise around this room. Once again it was all to no avail. The noise persisted all night. The bottle called to me repeatedly, but I resisted, for a while anyway. For a while I retired to bed and buried my head under the covers, but even there I could hear it, scratching away, almost as if it was inside my head. Sleep would not come and I was forced to walking the floor. Eventually I went outside, hoping to escape the noise in the open spaces, but that only made me acutely aware of the Dark Island, crouched out there on the water like a malignant toad. I am afraid to say that a funk took me again and I ran back inside, locking and bolting myself in. This time when the bottle called, I answered, but even as I once more fell into a drunken stupor I could hear it.
“‘Scratch, scratch, scratch.
“‘And every night after that it has grown louder, more insistent. Soon I started to see faces at the windows, never coming too close that they could be recognized, but always close enough that I could tell they were there. And the scratching noises became more rhythmic and coherent. Soon I began to distinguish voices. At first it was just nonsense words… but eventually the intent became clear.’
Sir John turned to Doig.
“‘I have heard him James. I have heard my father. He calls for me to join him, out there on the water.’
“Doig interrupted him.
“‘What do you mean, join him? Don’t you remember John? Those… things… we saw out there were barely human, barely alive. How could you possibly join them?’
“His Lordship laughed bitterly.
“‘Isn’t it how every man wants to spend his last hours? In the bosom of his family?’
“He stared into the fire.
“‘He’s my father. He calls for me. And God help me, I have started to want to go.’
“Neither Doig nor I knew how to respond to that, but as fate would have it, we did not have to, for just as his Lordship moved to pour us some more of his fine Scotch we heard it.
“It was just as he had described it, a scraping, rustling, and it was indeed most like the noise a rodent might make. But that all changed mere seconds later as a soft voice, pleading and insistent, filled the room.
“‘It is time lad,’ it said in a soft Scottish brogue. ‘It’s make yer mind up time.’
“Doig went white, and the Lord made to grab the shotgun again. That was my cue to start earning my keep.”
* * *
Carnacki stopped, and smiled. He tapped his pipe out and made to stand.
“And there I think we should leave it for tonight. As I said, it is a long tale. It will keep until the next time.”
We were all dismayed at such an abrupt stop, and Arkwright in particular was not slow in voicing his displeasure.
“I say, you cannot stop now old chap. I would not sleep a wink tonight for worrying and listening for dashed Scots whispering in the woodwork. You must give us some kind of resolution to sleep on, even if it is not the whole of the tale.”
Carnacki looked grim.
“I am afraid resolution may be some way off. As I have intimated, it is a long tale, and we have barely started to unfold the secrets of the Dark Island.”
He sat back in his chair again and got out his tobacco pouch.
“But I find that I agree with you,” he said. “I cannot leave you there. I must at least give you a hint as to the true nature of my adversary before I send you out into the night. So come, charge your glasses one last time, and prepare your pipes. We must push on if I am to be rid of you by midnight.”
We did as requested and formed an orderly queue at the drink cabinet. As ever Arkwright could hardly contain himself, and was voluble in putting forth his continued theory of skullduggery and possible fraud. But knowing Carnacki as I did, I believed I had already glimpsed something in his manner that told of a more esoteric solution to the current tale.
We hurried back to our seats, each of us eager to draw our own conclusion as to the nature of the Dark Island. Carnacki however made us wait for the close of this evening’s part of the story by spending what felt like an inordinate length of time getting his pipe going again. But finally all fell quiet as he continued.
* * *
“I had to enlist his Lordship’s help in finding the basics to set up some rudimentary defenses, for the box I had packed in London would not reach us until the morrow at least. And I had first to convince both him and Doig of the need for what I proposed. I will not bore you with the details of that conversation – I am sure you can imagine the point and counterpoint of it. It was only when I reminded Doig that he had in fact come to me for help, and that this was what I was trying to do, that he, and then the Lord, relented. Sir John took direction surprisingly well and Doig left with him to find what I had requested.
“Several minutes later I had what I needed. We cleared a large patch on the wooden floor, with three armchairs in the center near the fire.
“I started by drawing a circle of chalk, taking care never to smudge the line as I navigated my way around the chairs. Beyond this I rubbed a broken garlic clove in a second circle around the first.
“When this was done, I took a small jar of water, said a blessing over it, and went round the circle again just inside the line of chalk, leaving a wet trail that dried quickly behind me. Within this inner circle I ma
de my pentacle using the signs of the Saaamaaa Ritual, and joined each Sign most carefully to the edges of the lines I had already made.
“In the points of the pentacle I placed five portions of bread wrapped in linen, and in the valleys five small glasses of more blessed water. Now I had my first protective barrier and with this first stage complete the room, now protected as it was by the most basic of spells, already felt more secure.
“‘Claptrap and mumbo-jumbo,’ Sir John said. ‘I cannot see how any of this scrawling of stars on the floor can have any effect whatsoever.’
“Doig was more circumspect.
“‘Then again John, we have both seen that there is something there we cannot explain away. And Carnacki is an expert, as verified by the Minister himself.’
“Sir John scoffed again, but went quiet as the night’s festivities started in earnest.
“As it turned out, the protection had been completed just in time. The skittering noises grew louder, and the whispers in the Scot’s brogue became more insistent, rising to a shout that echoed as if coming from a far distance.
“‘Come to me Johnny lad. Do as your faither tells ye,’ the voice said. This time there was no pleading in it, just anger at being ignored.
His Lordship clutched the shotgun, holding it aimed at the closed drapes. I gently made him lower the weapon, taking care that at no time were the barrels pointing near either Doig or myself. At first he resisted me, but as I put more pressure on the cold barrels he gave way and took his finger from the trigger.
“‘There is nothing to fear. My defences will hold,’ I said softly. In truth, I was by no means sure that I was correct in that assessment, but I knew that a Scots Lord in a blue funk brandishing a loaded shotgun while already three parts in his cups was not a good plan of action. Sir John clutched at the gun as if it was his only lifeline against approaching doom. His gaze flickered, from Doig, to me, and to the bay window, never staying long on any one spot. Somewhere in the house something crashed, and he made to grab for the trigger, only stopped by a soft word from Doig.
Finally, between us, Doig and myself managed to persuade him to lay down the weapon and sit in his chair. We plied him with more of the Scotch while the voice continued to rail and harangue around us, the Scots brogue becoming increasingly more insistent in its entreaties. When it became obvious that Sir John would not be answering the voice dropped to a whisper – no less insistent, but at least at a level we were able to talk above.
Try as I might I could not as yet identify the source of the sound. At times it seemed almost to come from beneath us, at others it seemed as if the bookshelves themselves spoke to us. Whispers ran around us in strange echoes, mumbled words and disjointed phrases that spoke of duty and kinship.
“For pity’s sake Carnacki, is there nothing you can do?” Doig said.
I hushed him, trying to discern more about these sounds. I already knew there was little chance of stopping them in the immediate future - I have more than enough experience to know that emanations from the Outer Realm may not always have a physical origin on this plane.
“Besides, we had our hands full merely trying to placate his Lordship. The voice around us had no effect on Doig or myself beyond its annoyance value, but it had turned Doig’s friend back into the quivering wreck we had encountered on our arrival earlier.
“‘Talk to me James,’ Sir John said to Doig through gritted teeth. ‘I don’t care what about… anything to keep my mind off the old man.’
“There followed one of the strangest evenings I have ever passed. We three sat, like old friends passing the time over a drink, discussing the state of the country, the international situation, and the growing threat from Germany, all the while pretending to ignore the persistent whispering that echoed around my defences.
“It could not last of course. The Lord became increasingly distraught as the night wore on and the liquor started to affect his judgement. He started to rail and cry out against the whispering, particularly when words and phrases could be discerned. We plied him with more liquor, in the hope that he might succumb to sleep, but it seemed his Lordship was well used to the water of life, and he had already taken an amount that even Arkwright here might quail at consuming. When it became obvious that sleep was not in his immediate future Doig and I knew we were walking a thin line between dulling his senses with drink and getting him so stupified that he started to behave in a stupid fashion.
“Ultimately, we failed. Sometime near midnight the line was crossed. Without warning, and after twenty minutes where I thought the crisis might have been averted, Sir John rose from his chair, shouting incoherently.
“‘Leave me alone you old fiend. I did your will in life, I shall not make the same mistake in death.’
“Before I could grab him he had stepped outside the pentacle. The only saving grace was that he did not damage any part of the protections in the process, but that was of little consequence at that instant, as the man had allowed the Outer Realms access to him by leaving the circle.
“There was a second of deathly silence when it seemed as if all of nature had stopped and taken a breath.
“Then it started.
“It did not take long for the denizens of the dark to realize that an opening had been created. They came in force, a sudden wind rushing through the library, tossing and whirling books and papers in a maelstrom that spiraled around the pentacle. Doig and I were safe in the center of the storm, unhurt and untroubled inside the defenses. Sir John however was immediately thrown into mortal peril. Heavy leather tomes were tossed around in the whirlwind, and we could only watch as one particularly large book hit Sir John on the side of the head. It sent him tumbling to the ground where he was buffeted, over and over, by what seemed to be the full contents of his library.
“Doig could take no more. He made a move forwards, his intent clearly to go to the aid of his friend. I pulled him back as he reached the edge of the pentacle.
“‘No. It is too dangerous. You must not leave the defenses, lest you too be exposed to these creatures.’
“Doig turned and almost snarled at me.
“‘Then for pity’s sake, do something!’
“Without all of my defenses at close hand I was at somewhat of a loss as to what I could do. In the meantime the situation worsened rapidly. I can tell you chaps that it was a tight spot right enough, and one I could see no way out of.
“The maelstrom whirled ever stronger. The drapes on the windows were pulled roughly from their hangings to join the storm, and the boards on the windows rattled and squealed as the wind tugged and tested the strength of the nails holding them in place.
“In desperation I racked my brains for an appropriate ritual. Only one thought came to mind; a Gaelic exorcism spell that had proved efficacious in the past. I had serious doubts about its efficacy in this situation, but poor Sir John was being sorely buffeted, and I feared for his life, and his sanity, if I let this go on any longer without acting. I raised my voice, having to shout to be heard above the howling wind.
“Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.
“A darkness gathered in the corners of the room, and it seemed to quail and quake before my words. A disembodied voice with a distinctive Scottish accent started to swear and curse loudly and often. I will not repeat the words here, but if any of you have met a drunken, angry Glasgwegian I am sure you can fill in the blanks ably enough.
“My voice rose to further counteract the vile utterances.
“Ri linn cothrom na meidhe, Ri linn sgathadh na h-anal.
“The voices died down to a mere whisper, and had now taken on a submissive, almost servile tone. My ritual was proving the stronger, and the wind had died noticeably.
“Ri linn tabhar na breithe Biodh a shith air do theannal fein.
“With one last blast of power the wooden boards were torn from the windows. At the same instant the wind died utterly. Books
and boards fell to the floor with a clatter, Several sheets of paper floated idly in the air before gently wafting to the ground.
“The room fell quiet.
“Sir John groaned, and that was Doig’s trigger to move. I left him to minister to his friend and went to the window to check on the damage.
“And so it was that I was the only one there present to catch a true glimpse of our adversaries that night.
“At first all I could see was my own slightly disheveled reflection against the darkness outside the window. But one of the panes of glass chose that moment to fall outwards from its frame. There may have been a crash of breaking glass, but I did not notice it, for my full attention was taken with what was now revealed.
“As I looked out, so something looked in. Having read Doig’s tale, I was expecting to see a profile with a proud Roman nose, an ancestor of his Lordship. But instead what I saw was something from one of my own nightmares, a face part man, part porcine. Pink eyes stared at me, unblinking. A stubby snout raised in the air and sniffed loudly. I saw vapor at the flaring nostrils before, like smoke in wind, the swine thing turned away and vanished into the night.”
* * *
Carnacki stopped and we realized that, for now, the tale was finished. As usual, Arkwright was first to voice what we were all thinking.
“Not that blasted Hog again, Carnacki? Surely you got rid of that abomination?”
Carnacki smiled sadly.
“Not the same Hog, thankfully. But a serious menace nonetheless.”
He made to rise from his chair, but Arkwright was in no mood to stop there.
“And how did you rid his Lordship of this one? Come on old man, the night is yet young, and you cannot stop at such a point. It’s not cricket.”
Carnacki laughed.
“There you are wrong my friend. It is well past midnight, and I know that Jessop at least has to get to his office in the morning. No, we shall stop there, and when we return, I shall see if you have guessed what comes next.”
Carnacki: Heaven and Hell Page 19
