Howard tried moving his fingers under the dressing. “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he said. “These days it’s me takin’ care of Ma.”
“Then your girlfriend is interfering by taking up some of your attention, too.”
“Yeah.” He mumbled something under his breath. “Hey, how are ya feelin’? Any demons comin’ on?”
Glory laughed melodiously. “I’m okay now. Let’s make some tea.”
IT WAS MORE than an hour before Lovecraft emerged from Smith’s study with a satisfied smirk. “I see you haven’t had to hog-tie the lady,” he said to, Howard.
“She’s been behavin’ ladylike.”
“We have succeeded in decoding some coordinates,” said Lovecraft.
“Come, and we’ll show you.”
In Smith’s study, they had spread a chaotic array of maps and charts all across the large desktop. At each end, under the flickering lamps, there were piles of paper scrawled with figures in pencil. On the floor and in the corners were heaps of crumpled paper.
“We finally figured it out,” said Smith. “And here are the coordinates, which seem to indicate a rather remote place in New Mexico.”
“I’m tired and out of sorts,” said Glory, “but even without any scientific training, I can tell you that’s impossible.”
“We arrived at the coordinates with a method contrary to what you are assuming,” said Lovecraft.
“There couldn’t have been geographical coordinates in the book because they didn’t exist when it was supposed to have been written,” Glory continued. “And, in any case, the New World wasn’t even discovered by the Europeans until the end of the Thirteenth Century!”
Lovecraft gave a rather patronizing smile. “Quite observant,“he said. “But the numbers in the book were not geographical coordinates. They were numerals designating the ascension of a star called Shub Niggurath in a constellation that looks vaguely like a goat’s head. What took us all this time was to work in reverse to determine the spot from which the rising of the star would be visible at the date and time indicated. And thus this disarray of stellar charts and conversion tables.”
“Still,” Glory insisted, “they couldn’t have known that the star would have been visible from the New World. How did the author know there would be land at that spot?”
“Irrelevant,” said Lovecraft. “The New World was not known by man, but who is to say that the Old Ones did not know the geography of the entire planet? This text comes down from them the way in which the Bible is said to be the divine word of God.”
“I guess I’ll accept that.” It took only a moment’s reflection for her to realize the absurdity of arguing with them after what she had been through. “It’s no less believable than any of the other things,” she concluded.
Smith touched Glory’s shoulder. “There’s another odd coincidence,” he said. “As you might know by now, HP’s Necronomicon was modeled on an ancient text called The Astronomica.”
Glory smiled. “Well, according to some people, the stars are the dead, aren’t they? It isn’t so remarkable a coincidence.”
“Touché,” said Smith.
Lovecraft frowned. “Well, Miss McKenna, despite what you might see as my derivative nature, I seem to have been an unconscious conduit of information unknowable to me. And since what has transpired in recent days appears to maintain a remarkable closeness to the details in my weird fiction, I suggest we continue to assume such parallels while they are useful.
“According to our calculations, we must now journey back the way we came to the state of New Mexico, to a place near the Carlsbad Caverns. On Klarkash-Ton’s map, we found an area labeled ‘Shadows Bend.’ The name causes me to shudder involuntarily, and I say that not simply out of a tendency toward hyperbole.”
“You’ve proved your point, I think,” said Howard.
Glory couldn’t help but giggle behind her hand at Lovecraft, but she straightened her face and apologized to him. “I must still be under the influence of the demon,” she said.
“Indeed, you must be,” Lovecraft replied. He turned to Smith. “Come with us, Klarkash-Ton. There’s plenty of room in the car, and God knows what manner of assistance we might require of you.”
“I’m sorry.” Smith gestured at the cabin around them. “I have all this to take care of, and my parents are both old and infirm, as you know. If I were a bachelor living on my own, I’d like nothing better, but I’m afraid I’ll have to bow out of this adventure. I shall send my best thoughts with you all.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” said Glory.
Smith looked at her. “I’m sorry, Glory.”
“You’re doing the sensible thing, too,” she added. “Look what happened to my sister-and she wasn’t even involved in this escapade.”
Lovecraft and Howard were silent, and neither tried to urge Smith any further.
“I’m hittin’ the sack,” said Howard. “Somebody’s gotta rest up to drive y’all.”
THEY WERE SPOOKED by the house now, or perhaps it was that they were afraid of what the proximity of the Necronomicon might do to Glory if they slept inside, as was their first impulse after her possession, but it took only a few moments of debate before they decided to go back out to the compound under the trees. Lovecraft seemed to have no trouble getting back to sleep now that the Artifact was back in his possession, in that now habitual spot in his watch pocket. Howard strode about for a little while until Smith assured him that he would keep watch if necessary.
“Bob, I’m a light sleeper. And I live here, so I’ll do the honors of staying awake for a while and keeping an eye on her.”
“You didn’t sleep so light before.”
“I have forewarning now.”
“Well, I suppose I gotta do what’s sensible, huh?”
“Go on and sleep,” said Glory. “I don’t feel any demons coming on for a while at least.”
Howard gave a sheepish grin that made his face grotesque in the flickering light of the campfire. “Well, good night, y’all.”
“Good night.”
Howard crawled into the sleeping bag on his cot, tossed and turned a few times, and was still.
“You might as well get some sleep, too,” said Glory. “I don’t think I’m going to do too well after what just happened.”
Smith took a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. When he sat in one of the camp chairs, he reminded Glory of the old Indian whose story had moved her so deeply. “One could argue that you’re simply trying to get me to sleep because you’re still possessed,” he said.
“Oh, come on, Clark.”
“Well, in any case, I’ll keep you company. We can chat until you get tired. ”
“What I want to do right now is smoke a whole pack of cigarettes, but then when I think about it, it makes me sick to my stomach. I feel like I’m wearing a glove all over my body that’s the wrong size, and it’s full of cotton or something.”
“I’ve never seen a real case of demonic possession before, Glory, but I must say it’s everything I imagined it to be.”
“And you say that so casually, like you see it all the time.”
“I’m tired.”
Glory pulled a chair closer to the fire and sat down, following Smith’s example of covering herself with a blanket. She leaned forward until she could feel the heat of the dying flames on her face.
“Throw in more wood if you like.”
“No, that’s okay. It just makes me feel more solid to feel something against my skin.” She heard a rustling sound, a scraping sound, and then Smith was at her side with his chair. He took the blanket from around her shoulders and then enfolded the two of them with a single blanket, his arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head against the side of his neck.