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“You cold-blooded bastard,” Jim said. “Perched on your academic pedestal lecturing about cults… You know what your blasted cultinvolves, don’t you? The details are obscure, ofcourse-” His voice was a savage mockery of Frederick ’s pedantic tone. “But we can be sure that a vegetation cult involved some form of sacrifice. The victim was killed in order that his blood might bring about the resurrection of life in spring. The dying god, Osiris and Attis, Persephone… Kore can choose between several versions of the ritual. Which one does she fancy, Keller? The myth of Persephone, who died and was reborn yearly? It’s one of the oldest myths, older than the Greeks, older than ancient Crete, and Sandy makes a perfect patsy, doesn’t she? Ariadne, the Most Holy, who was the Cretan equivalent of Persephone. Or is it the Dionysian rite Kore follows? In that case any warm male body will serve the purpose. Is Chris being chased around the hills right now, by a crowd of howling maenads?”

“Absurd,” Frederick said. “Hysterical nonsense.”

I only wished I could believe it. I knew Jim was right about the cult. What I had not known was the complex and perilous meaning of the role Kore had selected for me. The women of Zoa, filing past my bed that night, in a solemn, ritual viewing of the new “goddess”-Kore’s daughter-substitute in a ritual so old that its hoary antiquity weighed down the mind. The priestess was the incarnation of the goddess, and She was the mother, the oldest of all the gods, the Earth herself-dying in winter, born again in spring with the new leaves, the young lambs, the sprouting corn. The women were the food gatherers and the ones who brought forth life. Yes, it was a woman’s cult, and the women of Zoa were only following tradition, revering a mother far older than the bright and tender Virgin.

Not all the women were involved, of course, only the more susceptible and superstitious. But there were enough of them, and their influence was great enough to keep Kore and her lover safe all these years. No doubt that was how the game had begun. But now… How far would Kore goto fulfill the demands of her votaries? Was she entirely sane?

Keller’s mind was apparently running along the same line. He got up and left the room, almost running. His footsteps pounded up the uncarpeted stairway. He was back very quickly.

“She’s gone,” he said. “One of the women must have let her out.”

Jim started for the door-and ran smack into a chair. As he stood swaying I snatched the flashlight from him and turned it on his face. He closed his eyes and put his hand up, but not quite soon enough.

“Your eyes,” I said, horrified. “What happened?”

“The fumes, I suppose,” he said fretfully. “Let go, Sandy. I’ve got to find Chris.”

“You can’t even see! Are you crazy? What’s to prevent them from picking you as their star performer instead of Chris? You fit the part better. You’ll blunder right into them.”

“Unlikely,” said Frederick. “If the performance takes the form I anticipate, it will resemble the bacchic orgies, with some form of circling dance. There will be considerable noise.”

He got up from his chair and went to the window. Jim was making feeble attempts to free himself from my grasp. I hung on with both hands.

“The air seems to be clearing,” Frederick said. “However, our young hero is in no condition to go out. I see I shall have to assume the role, ill as it suits me.”

“You!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t misunderstand,” said Frederick. “I am immensely curious. The chance of seeing such a survival may never come again. Kore’s contributions cannot be denied, but she must have worked with a residuum of folk memory handed down in these islands for millennia. Fascinating.”

In that instant, on that last word, my feelings for him died. Oh, I had felt them, much as I wanted to deny them; I had hoped he might have some tenderness buried under his cold, formal manner. I had deluded myself.

“Go ahead,” I said. My voice was as flat as my emotions. “Go on, watch the women dancing and cheering and tearing their victim limb from limb.I hope you will take notes. You may find it a little difficult to write left-handed, but if I know you, you’ll manage.”

“I will.” He put out a hand as Jim surged toward him and shoved him back. “Keep that young fool here. Naturally I will interfere if matters go as far as he suggests, which I don’t expect for a moment. The victim will be a goat or a sheep. I shall return in good time.”

Jim had fallen into a chair and was struggling to get up. I sat on his lap to hold him down, and tried to calm him.

“Just let me bathe your eyes and fix you up a little. I promise you can go. Later. After you feel better.”

As I spoke, Frederick left. I heard the front door close.

Keller helped me work on Jim. We found a lantern that shed more light than the flashlight we had been using. The eyedrops seemed to help.

When Keller had finished, he rolled his shirt sleeves down and buttoned them neatly.

“I too must go,” he said. “I must find Kore.”

“She’s in no danger,” Jim muttered. “ Sandy is the one I’m worried about.”

“Me?” I said, pretending surprise. This was not the time to tell him what I knew about Kore’s religious doctrines, especially the ones that concerned me personally. But I underestimated his intelligence.

“Why do you suppose I keep coming back here instead of looking for Chris?” Jim demanded. “I have a pretty good idea what Kore is up to. When I realized that the women were gone from the village, I started putting the rest of it together. Kore’s talk about reincarnation and her references to a female deity-whom we naïvely identified as the Virgin Mary-your dreams, the hints the priest threw out… Keller, for God’s sake-youought to know what’s going on in that woman’s mind, if anyone does. What will she do?”

“She never spoke to me of that,” Keller said. “It was her private affair.”

“It’s not private now,” Jim said.

“But I tell you, she will harm no one.” Keller was standing just beyond the light; it left his face in shadow, but shone on his hands. They were tight, white-knuckled fists. “You young fools, frantic about imaginary dangers… There is danger walking abroad tonight, but it will not be from my poor Kore. It will be for her. And for others.”

Jim took the wet cloths off his eyes and sat up.

“I think you had better tell me,” he said.

Keller slumped into a chair as if his legs would no longer support him.

“Yes, I must tell you. For thirty years I have kept this burden on my soul. I can bear the weight no longer.”

Jim glanced questioningly at me. Was Keller about to go through the same old story again?

“I know about your guilt feelings,” Jim said. “But you’re mistaken if you think anyone harbors a grudge about that. A murderous grudge, anyway. The idea of revenge-”

“Revenge!” Keller’s voice cracked with emotion. “I do not speak of a motive so juvenile! I speak of treachery and fear! How do you think your uncle fell into our hands? It was not by accident, or by our cleverness. He was betrayed, I tell you-given over to us by a man he trusted like a brother, in exchange for immunity. Would such a man hesitate to kill now, in order to keep the secret of his shame?”

Chapter 14

I

“SO THAT’SIT,” JIM SAID. “I WONDERED… WHO ELSE knows this?”

“Myself. Kore.” Keller laughed shrilly. “The traitor. Judas, Cain… What I did was badenough. But he-”