"A little rain never hurt anybody," Legeia observed. "Have you narrowed the range of Von Kempelen's flight yet?"
"France or Spain. I can say no more at this time. I turn, I freeze, torn 'twixt the bournes of spirit and matter!"
"What became of the Kingdom of the Netherlands? You'd mentioned it the last time I asked."
"That probability has diminished. I say to you that I am dead!"
"I'm not feeling too well myself this morning. Are Griswold, Templeton, and Goodfellow aware that we pursue them?"
"Indeed they are. Oh! Oh! Oh!"
"Have they formed any plans yet which might bring us to distress?"
"I deem it likely, though I cannot tell you their thinking. They have taken no action yet which might cause you harm."
His lower jaw fell, revealing his long yellow teeth and his swollen and blackened tongue.
"Quick! Quick! Put me to sleep or waken me! Quick, I say! I say to you that I am dead!"
"Sleep well then," Ligeia said, passing her hands above him and closing the lid.
Other times, we discussed different matters:
"Good morning, Monsieur Valdemar," she said. "And how are you today?"
"Oh! The agony ... !"
"I was wondering about this business of alternative worlds," I said. "I get the impression there are many, many such, each slightly—or, perhaps, greatly—different from the others."
"Nor are you incorrect. Spare me, I beg! Let me live! Or die! But no more of this twilight horror!"
"I was wondering, too, how the transportation of an individual from one such world to another might be effected."
"First, it requires locating extremely similar individuals on disparate worlds who possess a—kind of resonance—with each other—"
"How could one possibly locate such people?"
"One would employ a special detector. Please ..."
"Describe this detector."
"A person who is neither living nor dead—but partakes of both—may be directed to extend his awareness—in this fashion—"
"That sounds suspiciously like a description of yourself."
"It is."
"Are you trying to say that you were party to our world-switching?"
"No. I served only to locate the requisite individuals."
"You found Poe, Annie, and myself for Griswold and company?"
"I did."
"How?"
"It may not be described. Only experienced. Please ..."
"Put him back to sleep, lady."
And then, again, on a gray, blustery day when the sea wore whitecaps and the decks did surprising things beneath our feet:
"Good morning, Monsieur Valdemar. How goes the world with you?"
"Pray unbind my spirit, lady, and consign these mortal remains to the deep."
"Mr. Perry has something he wants to ask you."
"I'll only be a minute, Valdemar, but something you said the other day has had me thinking. If the Griswold crew used you to locate us, what did they use to cause our transfer—physically—from one world to the other?"
"A person of considerable power was needed—one who could be used to create a kind of meta-place—a common ground—where the three of you might meet... ."
"Annie? You found us, and Annie was induced to perform the transfer?"
"Just so. If you would, dear sir—"
"I have no further questions at this time."
Ligeia waved her hands.
"Have a good day, Monsieur."
The ship pitched as she shut his lid, and it fell to with a crash.
"Would you care for some tea, or an herbal drink?" she inquired.
"I believe I would."
And the following day:
"A good morning to you, Monsieur Valdemar."
"If pity be not foreign to thy soul—"
"Good to hear you speaking so clearly. Edgar has something else he wants to ask you."
"Yes," I said. "I do not understand how Annie could have been induced to perform the exchanges to which you referred, a matter which worked to her own detriment."
"She was caused to do so by Dr. Templeton—a skilled mesmerist."
"I still do not understand. If her own ability in this area is so great, how could a lesser practitioner control her? And if he were actually stronger, what did they need her for?"
"His abilities are as a candle to the celestial orb when compared with hers. Yet he could influence her by reaching her at a vulnerable time—her childhood."
"How—could he do that?"
"Once she had been located the detector could be employed to transmit Dr. Templeton's mesmeric energies to the desired point on her lifeline."
"You were used to focus his energies on her?"
"That is correct."
"Time itself is no barrier to your sentience?"
"Time is space—or spaces—among the worlds. And pasts are easier than futures."
I felt myself swaying, and this time it was not the vessel. I put out my hand to lean upon the bier, slipped, and struck his shoulder. It was as rigid as wood.
"There is nothing to be gained by striking a dead man," he observed.
"It was an accident," I said. "Sorry."
My mind was filled with images of happy children at play; and even as I framed the complicated question I could foresee his one-word reply:
"Are you telling me that Dr. Templeton, working through you, caused Annie to create conditions which influenced the lives of the three of us toward the point where this exchange became possible?"
"Yes."
"Three lives have been manipulated because of the greed of these men."
There was no reply, but I realized I had not actually asked a question.
"All to bring Annie here at this time to track the gold-maker and his secret?"
"For now," he replied, "she is such a tool."
"What do you mean 'for now'?"
"They need a lot of money soon. So Annie is—for the moment—a tool. Later—she will have other uses."
"What uses?"
"Her power is to be stripped—from her personality—to serve as an ingredient—in a Great Work."
"What then becomes of her personality?"
"It is—sacrificed."
"You cannot be serious."
"I cannot be otherwise," he replied. "Sir! I repeat! There is nothing to be gained in striking a dead man!
Release me!"
"Go to hell!"
"This is a state of mind with which I am not unfamiliar."
I felt Ligeia's hand upon my arm.
"Come away," she said.
I realized by degrees that I had dragged the man halfway out of his casket and was shaking him. Ligeia's other hand passed down my spine and I felt a warm current sweep through me. I let Valdemar fall back into his box.
"Yes," I said. "Yes."
She turned him off and led me away.
Yet was I back again the following days, for his answers seemed always to breed fresh questions:
"Bonjour, Monsieur Valdemar."
"Lady, I speak to you as one racked in the House of Pain—"
"Then I'm sure you'll welcome a little distraction. Eddie has a few more questions for you."
"Yes," I said. "It did not occur to me to ask earlier, but how did your—uh—remains come into the possession of Mr. Ellison when they had been in the custody of Griswold for all of this business you've been describing?"
"Mr. Peters and Emerson managed to spirit me away one night recently."
"Does Griswold know that we have you?"
"Yes."
"And he made no effort to recover you?"
"He no longer needed me once he had Annie."
"She can do anything you can?"
"She lacks my unique perspective—but she can satisfy his special needs for astral intelligence."
"How did he ever find a person in your condition, to begin with?"
"In good health and normal spirits."
"I do not understand."
"You asked how he found me."
"Then what changed you?"
"He did."
"Oh. You mean ..."
"He brought me to the point of death, then suspended me here."
"I'm sorry. I did not understand fully."
"Then release me. Let me die."
"I can't. We need you."
I drew back and looked away. Ligeia returned him to wherever he went between sessions and we blew out his candles.
"Coffee? Tea?"
"Yes."
It was three days before I approached him again. I watched storms come and go, I read some of Ellison's books and fiddled with his fascinating alchemical equipment. I even went to Captain Guy, had him open his armory and provide me with a saber. I commenced my old dismounted drills with the weapon then—at first, in my own room; then later, topside, at odd hours, when the deck was pretty much deserted. I liked working in the open air, I required the exercise, and, as my benefactor had pointed out, it seemed a skill worth resurrecting. And so I stamped and lunged, to Emerson's occasional applause from the rigging.