Then the night was dissected by a rising bar of fire. The ground shook under my moving feet; they stumbled and missed the beat. I lost my balance and grasped vainly at empty air; but as I fell I saw the thing that waited behind the barrier. It had my face, but the green eyes blazed like emeralds and the mouth was curved in the queer, disquieting smile I had first seen on the archaic statue Frederick had sent me. I toppled, screaming soundlessly, into a bottomless hole of darkness.
I awoke to clear morning light and a cool breeze from the open window. The sheet was twisted around my legs and the memory of the dream was still heavy on my mind. But as I came back to full consciousness, I was infinitely relieved to realize that for once I had had a nightmare whose origins could be explained. It was the book I had been reading that had set me off.
Relaxed, I lay on the soft bed and contemplated the day ahead of me. The meeting with Jim was not an unmixed pleasure to anticipate. I wanted to see him, but I knew he was going to lecture me. I was tired of people telling me what to do, as if I were a little child. I wanted to be left alone.
It was an effort to sit up. I was still tired, and my legs felt stiff; the sheet had been wound so tightly around them that red welts showed. Apparently I had done quite a bit of thrashing around in the throes of the dream. And then, as I bent my knees, preparatory to getting out of bed, I caught a glimpse of my feet.
The soles were spotlessly clean. There wasn’t even a trace of dust. But from heel to toe they were red and scraped, as if I had run, barefoot, across a rough, hard surface.
Chapter 13
AS I SAT THERE STARING AT THE DAMNING, INCONTROVERTIBLE evidence of my scraped soles, I had to fight down a crazy impulse to run, out of the room and out of the house, just as I was-bare feet, gossamer nightgown, and all.
However, after the first moment of panic I realized that the incident had broken the spell Kore had cast. It was nothing less than that, a combination of drugs, amateur hypnotism, charisma-and a normal human reluctance to accept the incredible. Up to that point I had not been sure what was real and what was my imagination. But the marks on my feet were a fact.
Kore spent longer than usual that morning fussing over me, rubbing oil on my hands and body, arranging my hair in intricate coils. I had to set my teeth to keep from shouting at her, but I managed to keep quiet. I didn’t know what she would do if I faced her with the truth. She might try to keep me there by force. Kore and Keller, even without the servants, were a match for me. I couldn’t count on Keller to help me; the man’s motives were a mystery.
So I smiled and chatted and ate my lunch like any polite visitor, and as soon as I was left alone, I got up. The clothes Frederick had brought me were in the wardrobe. The coarse, unpressed denim felt good against my skin; I was sick of clinging softness. Carrying my sneakers, I tiptoed to the door and eased it open.
The corridor was deserted. I couldn’t hear a sound. Apparently all the members of the household were resting. I made my way cautiously down the stairs, prepared to make a run for it if anyone tried to stop me.
I met no one. But I didn’t draw a deep breath until I was outside the villa, with the high white walls behind me.
Within a few minutes I was sweating. It was a hot, hazy day, and the air had the peculiar stillness I had learned to dread. But I was willing to risk an earthquake-a small one-to be free of the atmosphere of that troubled house.
Jim and I hadn’t settled on a specific meeting place, so I walked along the path that led toward the village. I was a little late. I didn’t see him, though, so as soon as I was out of sight of the villa I sat down on a big rock to wait for him.
My thoughts were not good company. By now I was fairly sure I had figured out Kore’s plans. Jim had been right about her. She had resurrected some antique cult and was playing high priestess, with half the women of the village dancing-literally-to her tune.
In my ignorance I found this knowledge less frightening than one might suppose. Kore had been trying to fit me into the unwanted part of the young goddess, or junior priestess-Ariadne the Most Holy, Persephone to her Demeter-Kore, in fact. I was to be Kore, the maiden, and she was to be… Who? It didn’t matter. I had quitthe cast, and she would have to put on her play without me.
Keller was the one who worried me, because I didn’t understand him. He had warned me to get away. But his apparent concern for my well-being might be a sham, or a delusion born of his feelings of guilt. Perhaps he meant to warn me about Kore’s uncanny but harmless activities.
Or did the warning have something to do with the fact that someone had shot at him? I couldn’t get over the way they had reacted to that attack, without even trying to investigate it. They assumed the would-be killer was one of the villagers. That seemed implausible to me, after years of peace, and in a year when there were three newcomers on the island who had good reason to resent Keller.
I didn’t like the direction my thoughts were taking, but I couldn’t completely reject the possibility that Jim had fired that shot.
I was so wrapped up in my depressing thoughts that I jumped convulsively when I heard someone approaching. I had almost forgotten that I was a fugitive. The footsteps were coming, not from the direction of the village, but from up the hill.
When Keller came into view I got to my feet. He was wearing sunglasses; the dark ovals hiding his eyes gave him a sinister look. He might not be young, but he was in excellent physical condition. I wondered how fast he could run.
As soon as he saw me he stopped. “Don’t be afraid,” he said quickly. “I followed only to be sure you were safe.”
“I’m meeting Jim,” I said. “He should be here any second.”
“Good.” He sounded genuinely relieved, and I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Apparently he didn’t suspect Jim of shooting at him.
“You must not be alone,” he went on. “I will wait.”
“Really, you needn’t bother,” I said politely.
“I wait.”
We waited. Keller stood perfectly still, as if he realized that any advance on his part would start me running. I shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. I wasn’t really afraid, but I wished he would take off the dark glasses that masked his expression. His eyes were his most attractive feature; with their warm brown hidden, he looked like a stony-faced stage Nazi. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I heard someone coming, his feet crunching the pebbles of the path. It was Jim.
For a moment I felt as if I were not seeing Jim but another man who strongly resembled him. Presumably that man had also been tall and slender, with unruly brown hair and skin toughened by sun and rough weather. Maybe his eyebrows had had that same upward angle, and his mouth the same warm curve when he smiled. He must have been quite a man to inspire such a fury of repentance in his murderer. Even Frederick ’s voice had softened, momentarily, when he spoke the name. Vince. No one else had referred to him by his first name, but Frederick remembered him that way.
The impression lasted only for a second; but it was so strong I wondered whether I was receiving Keller’s thought waves. The sight of Jim really bothered him, even now, when he was prepared and waiting. Jim wasn’t too happy to see Keller either.
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Herr Keller is acting as my bodyguard,” I said lightly.
“That’s nice of him,” Jim said. “But it would be more to the point if Herr Keller told us what he’s guarding you from. And,” he added, turning on Keller like a duelist, “don’t give me any more of that stuff about my uncle. He’s dead and gone. Your guilt feelings don’t concern me, Keller. I need information. And not about what happened thirty years ago, that’s dead and gone too.”