I was in for a restless week ahead, and I will admit that I checked my post for his calling card on numerous occasions. It was almost with a sense of relief that I answered his request to join him the following Friday evening.
Part 3
The Night Land
I had the good grace not to appear too eager this time around, and arrived on Carnacki’s doorstep at five minutes to the hour, and was joined by Jessop just before I knocked on the door. The others also arrived promptly, as eager as I for the continuation of the tale.
Carnacki seemed to be in better humor than the last occasion, and kept us all entertained through a most fine dinner with a long and frequently bawdy tale of a bishop, a newspaperman and a house of ill repute in Hastings. We ate some fine fresh salmon washed down with a sharp Italian wine, and by the time we retired to the parlor we were all feeling quite full and contented. It was only as we settled in our chairs that I realized Carnacki had expertly manipulated all the conversation away from any talk of Sir John, and of his perceived failure in saving the Lord. By then it was too late for any of us to broach the subject, for Carnacki was once more ready to start.
With fresh smokes lit and our glasses charged, Carnacki once more transported us to a remote Highland loch side.
* * *
“You may remember that I left you with my utter dejection and failure. The swine things had indeed achieved their goal, and had stolen Sir John away into the night, right from under my very nose. All my defenses, all of my experience, had proved to be no use at all.
“Doig was all for heading for the island there and then, despite the blackness of the night outside. Indeed it was all I could do to prevent him dashing off outside in his nightclothes. I managed to get him to see a modicum of sense, enough for him to at least get dressed, but by the time I had got my own trousers on he was already in the doorway, shotgun in hand, fully prepared to make an assault on the island.
“My entreaties for caution fell on deaf ears, and my only choice was whether to allow him to venture onto the loch alone, or to join him and ensure he did not do himself a mischief in his haste in the dark. And that my friends was no choice at all.
“I managed to get him to wait long enough for me to fetch my overcoat, and he allowed me time to go downstairs and find two oil lanterns which I’d seen earlier in a cupboard in the scullery. We ventured out into the night, not knowing what perils awaited us, but unwilling to leave Sir John to face them alone.
“I took the rowing duties this time, while Doig held the lanterns which, in truth, did little to dispel the night, but proved useful enough in giving him something to fiddle with on the short journey across the loch to take his mind off Sir John’s predicament. And on arrival at the small shore I was grateful for the light the lanterns gave, which was sufficient to show us the gravel path that led to the small cemetery.
“As we got closer to the mound at the center the air took on the now-familiar greenish tinge, and while I reconnected the generator cables I felt the tugging in my mind again. By now Doig was champing at the bit to get inside the mound, and when I finally got the power running he strode away ahead of me such that I had to hurry to catch up.
“I stopped him at the mound entrance and cautioned him to slow down, but he was past caring by that point and headed inside despite my calls for patience. I could do nothing but follow him in, and hope that I would be in time to prevent any harm befalling him.
“I found him just inside, staring at the center of the chamber. My pentacle was glowing already, and it took my eyes several seconds to adjust. And when they did, it was to a sight I would never have expected.
“Sir John, still held tight by two of the swine things, stood inside the pentangle. The rainbow lights danced wildly around the tableau of figures, and at first I thought it was this light that affected my eyesight. On closer examination I saw that Sir John was once again fading from our plane, becoming as thin and nebulous as the green miasma around the mound. A vortex spun inside the pentacle, a swirling rainbow cone getting ever faster, with Sir John at the center becoming ever less visible.
“Doig could stand it no longer. He leapt forward, crying his friend’s name. I could only watch on in horror as his left foot dragged on one of the cables of the Electric Pentacle, tearing the yellow valve free from its allotted point. There was a single blinding flash and when my eyes recovered I was alone in a quiet chamber.
“Sir John and Doig were nowhere to be seen.
“I had lost them both.”
* * *
Arkwright was unable to contain himself. His face had gone red with indignation.
“I say old chap, this is just not right. You were supposed to save those chaps, not let them get dragged off by pigs to the Lord knows where.”
Jessop tried to placate our friend, but Arkwright had worked himself into such a lather that Carnacki had to stop his tale so that we could ply him with some Scotch and try to get him to settle.
“I have told you already,” Carnacki said softly. “This tale is a long one. And not all tales end well.” This was said directly to Arkwright. “You are old and wise enough to know that life is not always safe and cozy. But if my tale is upsetting you unduly old friend, I will stop telling it and move on to a more pleasant subject.”
Arkwright became even redder.
“Stop? Don’t even consider it old man. It’s just those damnable swine things – I’ve been dreaming about them every night and they have got me in such a funk that I cannot think straight. A dose of whisky and a pipe of tobacco will soon cure that. Just tell me that all will be well in the end?”
Carnacki smiled sadly.
“I would not be much of a storyteller if I gave away my ending, now would I?”
Arkwright was now at least returning to his normal color.
“Not even a hint old chap?” he asked plaintively.
Carnacki was not to be swayed. Eventually Arkwright took a long swig of whisky, sighed deeply, and motioned that the story should continue.
“Just no more of those blasted pig people please,” he said. “They give me the willies.”
* * *
Carnacki continued immediately.
“I cannot guarantee that my story will not cause Arkwright further palpitations,” he said. “But I can tell you it will provide plenty of food for thought, especially when regarded in the light of the Lusitania story I have told before, and some theories I have since developed as to the very nature of the Outer Regions themselves.
“But first, I must take you back to that empty barrow on the Dark Island.
“Once again I tasted bitter defeat in my mouth. I had half a mind to step into the pentacle then and there and try the exorcism ritual. But I was by no means sure of success, and having seen my associates being taken from inside my defenses I was loath to do anything that might either prevent them ever returning, or expose myself to the same thing that had taken them.
“The swirling vortex I had seen had however reminded me of a similar manifestation from a previous investigation, in the vaults under the Royal Hospital. You chaps may remember that on that occasion I was presented with a glimpse of events in the past while investigating the strange deaths of old soldiers in the hospital itself. And you may also remember the means I discovered to traverse the realms in search of an answer, and how my modified Faraday Cage came to be utilized.
“Fortunately I had thought to include the cage itself in the crate which had been so tardy in arriving on the train. But unfortunately it was still back in the box in the library.
“I did not wish to leave the barrow, knowing that with every minute that passed I had less chance of recovering the lost men from wherever they had been taken. But I could see no other path of action. I turned on my heels and headed for the boat.
“I do not need to tell you chaps that it was not the most pleasant of experiences rowing back over the loch in the darkness. There was not even the luminescent green miasma to pierce the gloom, f
or it too had gone from the island, leaving just dead quiet and a black night.
“And it took most of the rest of that night for me to manhandle the Faraday Cage and my tool kit down to the small jetty, onto the boat and back across the loch in three separate trips.
“Dawn was starting to make its presence felt as I prepared for the last trip. After ensuring the last of my kit was in place in the boat, I headed back to the keep and down into the scullery where I made myself some tea and toast. I know you chaps will think this frightfully lax of me, but you see I knew not when I would next be able to find some food, and I needed to start what might be a long day with some sustenance in my stomach.
“I was following the breakfast down with a last pipe of tobacco when a knock on the outside scullery door almost shocked me out of my seat. But you can relax Arkwright, this was no swine thing come to drag me away. I opened the door to find old Mr. Monroe at the step, the now familiar jar of hooch at hand.
“‘Can I offer you a wee dram before we lose you to the Faerie?’ he said.
“A stiffener was just what the doctor ordered. But I limited myself to a small shot in a glass. Monroe himself seemed to have no qualms about drinking so early in the day, and indeed I wondered if he ever slept or if the uisque kept him in a state that was not quite asleep, but then again not fully awake either.
“He disproved that notion immediately by showing that he knew exactly what had happened the previous evening, and that he was fully aware of my intentions to return to the island.
“‘I told you Mr. Carnacki,” he said between more sips from the stone jar. ‘It disnae pay to look too closely at their ways, lest they decide to have a good look at you.’
“I explained some of my theories to him as I prepared for my final trip, and he seemed genuinely interested in the Faraday Cage, but made me wait while he made a trip to Sir John’s library. He came back with a long black poker, the very one we had used to stoke the fire during our nighttime vigils.
“‘Take this Mr. Carnacki. Cold iron is what you’ll need, if the old tales be true.’
“I did not want to refuse him and indeed the weight of the poker felt reassuring in my hand as I put it in the boat alongside the last piece of the Faraday Cage. As I stepped into the boat I saw that the old man was considering joining me.
“‘Your company would be most welcome,’ I said, but he had already lifted his gaze to the island, and at the sight he started to back away from the shore.
“‘There’s nothing would convince me to set foot on the Faerie Isle,’ he said. ‘But I’ll be singing for ye.’
“And with that cryptic remark he left me alone on the shore.”
* * *
Carnacki paused.
“And now we finally come to it,” he said. “My tale is approaching the climax. But first if I may, a small diversion into theory. As I believe I have mentioned before I had always believed that time was an arrow, that the past was gone and the future still to come. But the case of the happenings aboard The Lusitania had given me pause for thought. What if everything in the Macrocosm exists simultaneously? Are we all mere pawns, forever destined to walk preordained paths? I admit that thought depresses me mightily.
“And what I have since seen there on that Dark Island has depressed me yet further, for I have glimpsed the immensity of the Outer Realms, and have seen just how small and insignificant my own part in the scheme of things might be. I wonder at the purpose of my very existence.”
At that point Carnacki no longer addressed us – he seemed lost in a reverie of his own making, and might be there yet, staring into the fire and trying to pierce the secrets beyond the veil, had Jessop not chimed in.
“I say, steady on old chap. You are starting to sound like my vicar.”
That did much to lighten Carnacki’s mood, which was also helped by a fresh pipe and a generous measure of Scotch, so that when we all settled again he was much more his old self. I saw that he had taken a chance at the break to fetch a book from his library, and he held it open, showing us all a woodcut.
CALX was the heading. The pictures showed a young man, bound inside a burning cage by hands and feet in a figure X. He was smiling.
“You see? In the background?” Carnacki said.
As one we bent for a closer look. I had not spotted it before, but there, behind the burning figure’s shoulder, was an almost Da Vinci-esque landscape, and sitting on the horizon, a great black pyramid.
“I was not the first to see it. But the man who made this cloaked it in enough riddles to avoid it becoming common knowledge. Calx is latin for Lime. In this case, it means, calcination, or the process of purifying by heating. If you burn a body hot enough, it goes black, then, if you burn it even hotter, the ash turns white. Similarly, if you heat limestone, you’ll produce a white powder that the Romans called Calx Vita or quicklime. This was considered a magical material, for, if you poured water on it, it gave out heat. Effectively, giving the heat back to the giver.”
“And now I am lost,” Arkwright said. “What does all this bally-hoo have to do with the tale at hand?”
Carnacki thought for a bit, then replied. “Look at the picture. Fire purifies. But it is also a code that says, in effect, make quicklime. It will give heat back to the giver. And, beyond that, it symbolizes the fact that the adept must purify his soul before continuing his journey to the pyramid. Wheels within wheels.”
He tapped at the picture.
"Everything has at least two meanings.”
He closed the book.
“It came to me as I rowed back across to the island, a memory of this very woodcut. It almost felt as if there was a higher force directing me onwards, leading me into the same mysteries as the poor soul in the burning cage had sought. I was rowing towards my own burning cage, my own purification.”
Carnacki sat back and put the book to one side, puffed at his pipe, and immediately launched back into his tale.
* * *
“I will not bore you again with the details of setting up the Faraday Cage. Suffice to say I installed it inside a new pentacle, and sealed the circle before getting inside the cage itself. You may remember that it proved most efficacious in canceling out the energy of the thing I encountered under Admiralty Arch, and I was hoping that the same kind of nullification would ensure my safety through whatever journey lay ahead of me that day.
“I stood there in the gloom, shut inside my fine-mesh cage, the only sound the whispering hum of the current running through the structure. As my eyes adjusted to the light I could also see a faint glow from the controls I had fitted in the door of the cage to allow me to adjust the voltages and strength of the external field.
“I had remembered at the last minute to take the iron poker with me, and the heft and weight of it lying against my leg provided some reassurance in that early part of the day. But for a while it seemed that the only danger I was under was of giving in to boredom. I ran through various incantations from the Sigsand MS in my mind, readying them against the eventuality of needing them. After I was sure I had them down pat I amused myself by playing word games with myself, but any glamour that had for me quickly faded, and I soon found myself bored. The act of preparing a pipe of tobacco kept me occupied but not for long enough.
“After two more hours of this I was close to giving up. And, as is usual, that is when the action started.
“Once again I felt the tickle in my mind. I turned the voltage down on the cage and allowed the contact to grow. Now I have before tonight told you chaps of the mental exercises prescribed in the Sigsand MS for the control of the Outer Realms, and it was to one such exercise that I now turned my mind.
“I let myself go empty and allowed the invader access to my consciousness, aware as I did so that I was taking a huge gamble, but a necessary one if I was to save Sir John and Doig. The invader wasted no time in taking advantage of the opportunity. I felt something drag at me. A green mist started to swirl around the Faraday Cage, spinning
in an ever-widening vortex, an inverted cone with the cage, and me in it, at the very bottom. The tugging in my mind grew more insistent. I gave in to it, and at the same time I gently increased the voltage of the cage. When the invader next tugged, I went with it, and the cage came with me as we spun inside the vortex at a dizzying velocity.
“There was a brilliant flash, then all was velvet blackness. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust, then I realized just where I was – floating in the vast extent of space between the stars. And yet again, I knew that this was no dream – how could it be, while I was inside the mesh cage? But then how could the cage be here with me, still buzzing with electrical energy even while spinning in formless space? I had more questions than answers, such as how I was managing to stay alive in the midst of such emptiness, and also just where I was being taken. But such thoughts were fruitless and I pushed them away, the better to observe as much as I could so that I could tell this tale later.
“As in the dream, it seemed that I travelled for an age, past dead and dying stars giving out their last gasps of heat, through nurseries where blue flashes showed new stars being born, and into clouds of gas that engulfed whole galaxies. There are no words to describe the wonder and awe – but somewhere deep inside me there was also terror, of what waited for me at the end of the journey, and of the difficulty of finding a way home.
“Finally I saw that I was approaching a dim red star, spluttering and fizzing in its death throes. Several planets, mere dots travelling across that red surface at first, span around it, and it seemed I had reached my destination. With some renewed haste, I was tumbled down towards one of them; a rocky globe, its surface studded with craters, punctuated by purple growth that infested the planet like patches of moist mould. There was no sign of any seas, nor clouds for that matter. As I approached the surface I saw, far to the north, a volcano that reached to the sky, sending long plumes of lava spurting into the heavens.
“I slowed, hovering above a plain under a dark purple sky, with black stems rising, casting shadows from a moon, too large for the sky, a red moon that rose above jagged hills. Things moved among the stems, low-slung and insect-like, farmers tending to the growth.
Carnacki: Heaven and Hell Page 23
