The Feaster From The Stars (Blackwood and Harrington) (19 page)

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Authors: Alan K Baker

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BOOK: The Feaster From The Stars (Blackwood and Harrington)
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‘May I enquire as to the purpose of this séance, Worshipful Master?’ said Madame Henrietta.

‘Mr Blackwood,’ said Fforbes-Maclellan. ‘If you’d be so kind.’

Blackwood, who was sitting between the medium and the Worshipful Master, nodded. ‘We need to contact at least one spirit from the London Underground. We require certain information, which only they are able to provide – information which may well prevent a terrible catastrophe. Can you help us, Madame?’

‘I will certainly try, sir,’ Madame Henrietta replied. ‘Have you ever taken part in a séance before?’

‘I have,’ Blackwood said.

She placed her hands palm-upwards on the surface of the table. ‘Then we all know what to do.’

The four of them joined hands in silence. Madame Henrietta von Schellenberg closed her eyes and began to demonstrate why she had become famous in London society and beyond. She bowed her head, and by the subdued light in the room, Blackwood could see the blood drain gradually from her face. Her features became utterly still, as if she were in a deep sleep. This was the self-induced trance which would allow her mind to reach out into the netherworld beyond material life, and to speak to the beings who dwelt there.

‘I wish to speak with one who lingers beneath the city,’ she intoned in a voice which was even deeper than normal. Blackwood felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the strangeness of it: there was something deeply unnatural in the timbre – no, he corrected himself: something
super
natural. There were many mediums plying their trade throughout Great Britain, and most of them were charlatans with little or no ability to apprehend the world beyond. Madame Henrietta, however, was not one of them: she was the genuine article.

Blackwood felt the temperature in the Séance Room drop by several degrees as the gaslights began to flicker upon the walls.

‘Will no one speak with us?’ said Madame Henrietta. ‘We beseech you to help us… Who of you will come forward? There is something we desperately need to discuss with you – something of very great importance.’

Madame Henrietta lifted her head and looked at Blackwood. ‘I sense fear,
terrible
fear. They are most reluctant to speak.’

‘Anne,’ said Blackwood.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Anne Naylor, the Screaming Spectre.’

Madame Henrietta winced at the crude appellation.

‘You are aware of her history,’ he persisted.

‘I am.’

‘Call for her. She may come.’

Madame Henrietta nodded. ‘I am speaking to the one called Anne Naylor, to the poor child who was taken from the world long before her time. Hear me Anne… and come to us!’

After some moments had passed in silence and stillness, the flickering of the gaslights increased, as if a strong breeze were blowing through the room, although none of the sitters felt the slightest stirring in the air…

And then the lights went out, plunging the room into total darkness.

The darkness, however, was short-lived, for the sitters quickly became aware of a faint blue glow which appeared in a far corner, and which gradually grew in intensity until it illuminated every part of the room.

They all turned to see a young girl standing in the corner, looking at them.

‘Anne,’ said Madame Henrietta. ‘Thank you, child… thank you for coming to us.’

Wordlessly and with evident reluctance, the little ghost stepped forward until she was standing between Blackwood and the medium. She gave the Special Investigator a long, curious look, and said, ‘I know you, sir.’

‘Yes,’ said Blackwood very gently. ‘We met on the Underground Railway. Do you remember?’

Anne Naylor nodded.

‘There is information of which we are in dire need, and we believe you may be able to help us obtain it.’

‘Information?’

‘The monster of which you spoke when we met, the thing whose approach we heard… we know what it is and where it came from. But there are other things which we need to know. Will you try and help us?’

The ghost regarded Blackwood uncertainly and then glanced at Madame Henrietta, almost, Blackwood thought with a stricken heart, in the manner of a child seeking approval from a parent. He supposed that it was logical, for it had been the medium’s questing mind which had contacted her, and some form of bond must instantly have been forged between them.

Madame Henrietta nodded encouragingly.

Anne looked back at Blackwood. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘There is something on the Underground network which we need to find. An object. It is something very dangerous.’

‘An… object?’

Blackwood nodded.

‘What does it look like?’

Blackwood was about to speak and then realised that he had not the slightest idea.

He glanced at Castaigne, who leaned forward. ‘It is essentially a hexagonal trapezohedron.’

Anne gave him a quizzical look.

Madame Henrietta sighed. ‘Dr Castaigne, the child has no idea what a hexagonal trapezohedron is.’

‘Oh, forgive me. It’s… it’s like a jewel, with many facets. Large. Perhaps ten feet in length…’

Anne’s eyes widened at this description, and the sitters glanced at each other.

‘She recognises it,’ whispered Blackwood.

‘You’ve seen it, haven’t you?’ said Castaigne.

Anne shook her head and took a step back from the table, her blue face twisted in an expression of abject fear.

‘Yes,’ said the occultist. ‘You have seen it. You cannot lie to us, Anne.’

‘I don’t want to talk about that,’ said the ghost.

‘You must…’

‘No, I mustn’t!’

‘Anne,’ said Blackwood, and the ghost turned her frightened eyes to him. ‘We need to find this thing. We need to know where it is. Please help us.’

‘It’s a horrible thing,’ she whispered. ‘None of us like it… none of us know where it comes from, but it doesn’t come from the world…
this
world. I don’t want to talk about it, sir!’

‘You don’t have to, child. All we need to know is where it is.’

Anne lowered her head and appeared to give a great sigh. ‘It is beneath the new place, which the big machine has opened up.’

The sitters glanced at each other.

‘The new place?’ Blackwood said.

Anne nodded. ‘The one that the big machine has opened up… the machine that makes tunnels.’

‘What’s she talking about?’ wondered Fforbes-Maclellan.

‘I believe she’s describing one of the Greathead shields which are used to excavate new tunnels,’ Blackwood replied.

‘I don’t want to talk about it anymore, sir,’ said Anne plaintively.

Blackwood smiled at her. ‘You don’t have to. You’ve given me enough, and I thank you.’

‘There’s something else,’ said Anne.

Blackwood leaned forward. ‘What?’

‘You have a friend… a lady.’

The Special Investigator frowned. ‘A lady? Are you speaking of Lady Sophia?’

Anne nodded. ‘Yes, that’s her name.’

‘What about her?’

‘She is in great danger, sir.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We felt her leaving…’

Blackwood felt something cold and dark clutching at his heart. ‘Leaving?’

‘Yes, sir. We all felt it – at least, those of us who remain, the ones who have not been gathered by the monster.’

Oh, good God
, Blackwood thought, feeling the blood drain from his face. ‘Do you mean to say that… she is dead?’

‘No, she is not dead… but her mind is no longer here, in this world.’

‘If her mind is not in this world… then where is it?’

The ghost of Anne Naylor looked up to the ceiling, but it was quite plain that her attention was focused on something far beyond. ‘It is out there, sir… out among the stars.’

PART THREE

The Void Chamber

CHAPTER ONE:
L
ady Sophia is Embarrassed

Castaigne’s grand four-wheeler raced through the streets of Kensington, scattering the few late-night pedestrians who were unwise enough to attempt to cross the road in front of it. Blackwood and Castaigne were onboard, having left the Lodge as soon as Madame Henrietta had concluded the séance and broken her psychic connection with Anne Naylor.

Blackwood was beside himself with worry. What had happened to Sophia? A vague suspicion had begun to form in his mind as he leaned forward with furrowed brow and watched the streets rushing by, but without more facts, he was reluctant to believe it.

Before the driver had even brought the carriage to a halt outside Sophia’s apartment building, Blackwood threw open the door and hit the pavement at a run, with Castaigne hard on his heels. He glanced up at the first floor windows, which were lit, and then bounded up the stairs to the front door. Knocking would clearly be of little avail, so Blackwood whipped out his lock-pick and had the door open in short order. Followed closely by Castaigne, he rushed up the stairs and repeated the operation on the door to Sophia’s apartments.

The first sight which greeted them as they entered was Sophia’s prone form in the corridor leading to the kitchen.

‘Oh, good God!’ Blackwood cried, rushing to her. ‘Castaigne, give me a hand to get her to her bed.’

The occultist complied, and together they carried Sophia’s unconscious body into the bedroom, where they laid her gently upon the bed.

Castaigne examined her face closely, and then opened her mouth and scented her breath. He gave Blackwood a confused look. ‘She has taken Taduki.’

Blackwood sighed. He had suspected as much.

The occultist noted his lack of surprise and the fact that he did not ask what Taduki was. ‘I take it you know what I am talking about.’

The Special Investigator nodded. ‘The drug which enables the human mind to depart from the body and roam at will through the Luminiferous Æther. The means by which you have visited Carcosa.’

Castaigne was impressed. ‘I see that there is more to you than meets the eye, sir,’ he said. ‘But I don’t understand… how did she manage to obtain it?’

‘Do you have any doses of the drug at your hotel?’

‘Yes, I have a few doses amongst my personal effects.’

Blackwood smiled grimly. ‘In that case, I have a strong suspicion as to her methods, Dr Castaigne, and I suspect equally strongly that you are not going to like them. Sophia was supposed to attend your lecture with me this evening, but she left a message with my housekeeper that she would be unable to come. She gave no reason, but I think I know what it was. She must have gone to your hotel room and availed herself of a dose of the Taduki…’

Castaigne shook his head. ‘Good Lord, but those doses were specially formulated to guide the human awareness to Carcosa!’

‘Is there an antidote? Is there any way we can bring her back quickly?’

‘Physical consciousness is itself the antidote: all we have to do is bring her around, and her mind will fly back through the Æther instantly. Smelling salts should do the trick.’

Blackwood nodded. He ran to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet until he had found a bottle of salts, which he took back to the bedroom and held under Sophia’s nose.

Almost immediately, she groaned and arched her back. One hand flew up to her face and pushed the bottle away.

‘Sophia,’ said Blackwood, leaning close. ‘Can you hear me?’ He breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes opened and she looked at him. ‘Do you know where you are?’

She looked around, breathing in shallow little gasps. ‘My bedroom,’ she whispered, and then winced and put a hand to her throat.

‘It’s all right,’ said Castaigne to both her and Blackwood. ‘A slight soreness in the throat is a side effect of the drug; it will pass quite quickly.’

‘Who might you be, sir?’ said Sophia, who appeared to have noticed him for the first time. ‘And perhaps you can explain to me why I have the honour of receiving you in my bedroom!’

Blackwood smiled. ‘Sophia, may I present Dr Simon Castaigne, the gentleman from whom you stole the Taduki drug.’

‘The… what? Oh!’ Slowly and with evident difficulty, Sophia sat up. Blackwood took a pillow and propped it against the headboard behind her. ‘I, er, I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr Castaigne,’ she said, rather timidly.

By way of reply, the occultist stepped back and indicated the door. ‘The water closet awaits, your Ladyship.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Sophia said, and then she placed a hand against her mouth. ‘Oh dear!’

Without another word, she jumped off the bed and flew out of the room. A few moments later, some rather unfortunate retching sounds were heard to emanate from the bathroom.

‘Another side effect of the Taduki drug,’ Castaigne said in reply to Blackwood’s concerned look. ‘That too will quickly pass.’

While Sophia was gathering herself, Blackwood went to the kitchen and made some tea. She insisted on leaving the bedroom and continuing their conversation in the sitting room, and both Blackwood and Castaigne readily agreed, relieved to vacate the young lady’s
sanctum sanctorum
.

Blackwood handed her the tea, which she sipped pensively while he and Castaigne seated themselves a little awkwardly on the
chaise longue
across from her armchair.

‘I must apologise to you, Dr Castaigne,’ she said presently, placing the cup and saucer with a shaking hand on the little occasional table beside her. ‘What I did was unforgivable. I knew it was wrong, and yet I did it anyway.’

‘Think nothing of it, madam,’ he replied. ‘I’m just glad that you have returned safely. You
did
voyage to Carcosa, did you not?’

Sophia nodded and turned haunted eyes upon her guests, eyes that quickly filled with tears. She placed a trembling hand to her mouth and began to sob quietly.

Blackwood went to her immediately, perched himself on the arm of her chair and placed a comforting arm about her shoulders. ‘It’s my fault,’ he said.

‘How so?’ asked Castaigne.

‘I prevented her from accompanying Detective de Chardin and me on our excursion into the Underground this afternoon. I thought I was acting correctly, protecting her from unnecessary risk…’

‘I was angry,’ Sophia managed to say through her tears. ‘Humiliated… so I…’

‘So you decided to take matters into your own hands,’ completed Castaigne. ‘You decided to gather some information for yourself. Well, I must say I admire your initiative, Lady Sophia. Most impressive.’

‘What did you see on Carcosa?’ Blackwood asked.

Sophia took a deep breath before replying, ‘I saw what lies at the bottom of the Lake of Hali.’

At this, Castaigne jumped out of his seat and stood, regarding her with wide eyes. ‘Great Scott! Not even I have entered the lake!’

‘I wanted to see what was in there, and so I descended beneath the cloud waves, into the waters, but then something took hold of me and pulled me inside a vast and horrible building which stood on the lakebed.’

‘The ancient Castle of Demhe,’ said Castaigne, ‘which sank into the lake shortly after the arrival of the King in Yellow on Carcosa. It is now his home. But tell me, your Ladyship: did you… did you
see
him?’

Sophia nodded, and Castaigne sank back onto his seat.

‘I saw something that looked like a vast agglomeration of yellow rags, but each of them appeared to be like a creature in its own right: they moved and writhed around the centre, in which there was something that looked like a horrible mask. And then the mask fell aside, and the mass of rags unfolded…’

‘What did they reveal?’ asked Castaigne, his features drawn in horror and fascination.

Sophia shook her head and buried it in her hands. ‘If you hadn’t brought me back when you did…’

‘It’s all right Sophia,’ said Blackwood, casting a glance at Castaigne which told the occultist that now was not the time to press her.

‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ Sophia said presently. ‘Two other people broke into your hotel room this evening.’

‘What?’ said Blackwood. ‘Did they see you?’

‘No: I hid in the bathroom. They were Charles Exeter’s men; they mentioned his name while they were going through Dr Castaigne’s things. They also took some of the Taduki drug.’ Sophia did not mention the involvement of Queen Titania, since she felt that at this stage it would only complicate matters.

‘Then Exeter is onto me,’ said Castaigne. ‘He knows, or suspects, that I’m aware of his activities and his intentions.’

‘Then what are we to do?’ asked Sophia.

‘We must find the Anti-Prism and prevent Exeter from activating it,’ Blackwood replied.

‘The Anti-Prism?’

‘A device of alien origin, which will enable the King in Yellow to come to Earth. We have a clue as to its location.’

So traumatic had her experience been that it was only now that Sophia recalled the events of earlier in the day. ‘Thomas!’ she said, jumping up from her chair and hurrying across the room to her desk. ‘I went to see Charles Exeter this afternoon, as you suggested. He gave me this…’

As Blackwood stood up, she unwrapped the terracotta tile and handed it to him.

‘Exeter
gave
you this?’ he said, as Castaigne got to his feet and joined in the examination of the artefact.

‘He did. It was strange… he seemed genuinely unnerved and gave every indication that he wanted you and I to get to the bottom of this business.’

‘He’s a sly one,’ Castaigne muttered as he took the tile from Blackwood and peered at it closely. ‘The Yellow Sign. Where did he say it was discovered?’

‘In an ancient chamber, about two-thirds of the way from Bond Street to Westminster…’

‘On the new deep-level Tube line?’ said Blackwood.

‘Precisely,’ said Sophia.

‘Did he tell you anything else about this chamber?’ asked Castaigne.

Sophia nodded. ‘He said that it is like a burial chamber – purpose-built, designed for that very function; the walls are covered with tiles just like this one. And he also said that a number of skeletons were discovered – minus their heads.’

Blackwood and Castaigne gave each other a long look. ‘That must be the place,’ said the occultist grimly. ‘That must be the Void Chamber.’

‘The Void Chamber?’ said Blackwood.

‘That’s the name given to it by John Dee in the
Carcosa Fragments
, the place where the Anti-Prism is located.’ Castaigne’s brow grew furrowed, and his gaze grew fierce as he added, ‘We must go there without delay and destroy it!’

Blackwood thought about this and then said, ‘You’re right when you say that the Anti-Prism must be destroyed… but I’m not so sure we should jump in immediately.’

Castaigne gave him an incredulous look. ‘Why not? For Heaven’s sake, man, the fate of the entire world is at stake!’

‘I’m well aware of the danger, Dr Castaigne,’ Blackwood replied levelly. ‘But an assault on enemy territory is never likely to succeed when the lie of the land is unknown. We’ve never seen this Void Chamber, as you call it; we have no idea as to its layout, or even precisely where the Anti-Prism is located within it. What’s more, we have the perfect opportunity to ascertain both of these things. Charles Exeter is unaware that Lady Sophia and I are onto him: he believes we are merely investigating the disturbances on the Underground and still have no clue as to their ultimate origin. That’s very much to our advantage. Exeter has agreed to allow us to inspect the Void Chamber, and in the first instance, we should do so…’

‘By way of reconnaissance,’ said Castaigne.

‘Precisely.’

The occultist considered this, and then nodded. ‘I suppose that makes sense,’ he conceded.

Sophia regarded Blackwood silently for a moment. ‘You said “we”, Thomas.’

He gave her a thin, rueful smile. ‘Yes, Sophia. You and I.’

She gave him a smile of her own, satisfied and, he thought, a little mischievous. ‘It may be dangerous, you know. It may even be a trap. Exeter is an intelligent, resourceful man. He may know more about us than he’s letting on.’

‘We’ll take that risk,’ Blackwood replied. ‘Together.’

‘When are you going in?’ asked Castaigne.

‘Tomorrow,’ said Blackwood.

‘Excellent. I wish I could go with you, but that’s clearly impossible. Will you let me know what you find?’

‘Of course.’

‘In that case, I will take my leave of you.’

‘I shall see you out, Dr Castaigne,’ said Sophia. ‘And once again, please accept my apologies for…’

Castaigne held up his hand. ‘None are necessary, madam, I assure you. In fact, I had anticipated that much more effort would be required on my part to bring all this to the attention of the authorities. It is a great relief to know that both Her Majesty’s Bureau of Clandestine Affairs and the Society for Psychical Research are already involved.’

‘You may rest assured that we’ll do everything in our power to meet this threat,’ said Blackwood, ‘and to neutralise it.’

Castaigne nodded, and, with a wry glance at Sophia, said, ‘Well, at any rate you know where to find me.’

He picked up his hat and cane from the table where he had dropped them, and while Blackwood waited in the sitting room, Sophia saw him to the door.

When she returned, Blackwood asked her how she was feeling.

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