“It’s not much,” he said. “But it was cheap. The horse is old and the wagon uncomfortable, but we’re not going that far.”
I nodded. “God willing, it will do.”
“Are you ready, my love?”
“Yes, I have been waiting for this moment. It’s time that old conjurer got his due.”
The estate was several miles east and we followed the directions the innkeeper had reluctantly given to Micah.
“His house is right off the ocean,” Micah explained. “Mr. Alport said he lives alone except for a skeleton staff – all black folk from the islands. One of them is a woman who the locals believe is a voodoo priestess. Another is a man who is over seven feet tall. The locals are afraid of both of them.”
I nodded. “That sounds like him. He surrounds himself with sycophants, all of whom depend upon him for their very lives. He’s not one to mingle with those he believes are beneath him. The result is a solitary life. One could almost feel sorry for him.”
Micah turned and stared at me. “You would feel pity for the man who stole our son?”
I shook my head. “Do not misunderstand me, Husband. I hate Morrison and what he did to me. And, even more, I abhor what he might do to our innocent boy.”
We drove on for a time after that exchange, both of us silent and alone with our thoughts. Mine were dark and full of remorse. I remembered how Morrison had tricked me into bartering my stepson, when he was just a babe, for a taste of power and how that had led me ultimately into the realm of witchcraft. How I wished I could return to those days and take it all back and, once again, be just an ordinary girl. But, alas, that was beyond my power.
Finally, Micah brought the horse to a halt and turned to face me. His face was solemn.
“Tell me, my Maude. What exactly is this old man planning? You have never been clear on what his intentions are for our Samuel.”
I sighed. I dreaded this moment. I would have to tell him and tell him the truth as best as I knew it.
“Yes, Micah,” I said softly. “I will explain. First you must know what Ian Morrison is. He’s not just old, like our grandparents. He’s ancient. As I was told, he was once just an ordinary lad and still human. That ended two hundred years ago or so.”
“Are you telling me that this man is over two hundred years old?”
I nodded. “Yes, my love. He was once a boy, like our Samuel, but, in ways I can’t explain, he was changed into a monster.
“And his unnaturally long life is just part of it. He has magic, too, that allows him to command the elements – wind, rain, and fire.”
“But how, Maude? Is he a witch or warlock?”
I nodded. “Something like that, but not exactly. I really don’t know what he is, only that he is most dangerous.”
Micah exhaled. “All right. You say he can live more than a normal lifespan. How does he do this and what does it have to do with our Sam?”
“From what I was told, when his body begins to wear out – when his life is near to over and death stares him in the eye – he steals the life force and the body of another. How he does it, I do not know, but I believe it has something to do with the blood…”
49
Kate
BLOOD!
Now we are getting somewhere, I thought.
My heart pounding, I leaned forward, intent on the diary, and continued to read…
50
The Diary Of Maude Prichard
The Old Man
MICAH STARED AT me, puzzled. “If this is so and he can somehow insert himself into another’s body, then why does he allow himself to get so old? Why not take a new body every fifty years or even every twenty?”
I smiled sadly. “It doesn’t work that way, thank God. He has within him only the power to change so many times. Once he depletes himself, he’ll have to face death like any other mortal man. So, since he wants to live forever, he does not effect a change until his mortal body is dying.”
Micah nodded. “And, how does this change occur? You said it had something to do with the blood?”
“Yes, the blood. Tales of old say that it started in Mesopotamia with a serpent who was jealous of man.”
“A snake?”
“Yes, but that may just be a metaphor. I don’t know. All I can tell you is what I’ve been told.”
“And, where does this knowledge come from? Your benefactor, Imelda? I’ve always suspected there was more to her than the genial façade she wears so well.”
“Yes on both counts. My knowledge comes from her and I fear she is much more than either of us can imagine.”
Micah nodded as if storing that information away for another time. “Okay, go on. Tell me about the serpent.”
“It was told that the viper’s jealousy of man’s mobility knew no bounds and so the snake set off to find a person he could inhabit and, thus, live out the rest of his life as a human. He found his victim in the desert. A young lad whose horse had thrown him and run away. The boy, parched by sun and sand, was slowly making his way back to the city.
“The serpent – said to be a king cobra – observed the lad and followed close behind. When the boy was so tired and thirsty that he thought he couldn’t go any further, the viper emerged from the shadows.
“The lad watched helplessly, all of his strength spent, as the serpent undulated its way toward him. Knowing that he was now in grave peril, the lad tried to run, but was too weak. The serpent came upon him but, to the boy’s surprise, did not attempt to bite him or harm him in any way. Instead, the viper, using its deadly fangs, cut a gash in its own body and bade the thirsty boy drink of its blood.
“The boy was so parched he complied and, when he had drunk his full, the viper turned on him, biting deeply into the flesh of his neck. Paralyzed with fear, the boy watched in vain as the serpent drained him of his blood. By the time the last drop was sucked from his body, the boy was no longer human and the viper was no longer a reptile. They had in effect, by the exchange of blood, both changed – the snake became the lad and lad became the snake.”
“And, that’s how it began?”
“Yes, that is what I was told. However, this exchange of blood only happens when an enchanter, such as Morrison, knows he is really dying and is no longer able to abduct another person’s body. The exchange of blood is done when the old villain wishes to pass on his foul abilities to another human being.”
Micah shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around all this.
“Okay,” he finally said. “If what you say is true and Morrison believes he can continue to live, then he isn’t going to exchange blood with our Samuel, right? So, what’s he going to do?”
“He will use what power he still has to alter, in some unspeakable way, our Samuel’s blood – he can do this with his mind. When he completes this task, our boy’s vital fluid will be similar to that of a viper. After this is accomplished, the blood will be compatible with Morrison’s and he will use his mind to transfer his essence into our Samuel’s body.”
“But what of Samuel’s soul? Does it pass on to God or does it simply wither and die?”
“I don’t know, my love. This is where my knowledge ends. That is why we must get to Morrison before he makes the leap.”
“Aye, it is a fantastic tale but I believe you, my sweet. We must make haste.”
Without further ado, Micah lay the whip to the horse and, once again, we were on our way.
We drove on for two more hours. The smell and taste of salt from the ocean now permeated the air, letting us know we were close to the coastline.
“There,” said Micah, pointing to a place up ahead where the road branched. “The road to the right should lead directly to Morrison’s place. I think it might be wise if we left the wagon here and proceeded on foot.”
I nodded. “I will go. You and Sarah remain here.”
Micah shook his head. “No, I’m not letting you go alone. I know you feel you have to confront this bastard yourself and I will allow tha
t. But I will NOT wait here in the shadows like an impotent old man! No, Sarah and I will escort you to the house and will wait outside ready to burst in if need be.”
I could see by the set of my husband’s jaw that no words of mine would move him. So, I meekly bowed my head and nodded.
“Good,” he said. “Now let’s go.”
We walked the short distance to Morrison’s house. The residence was large and sprawling, located just inland from the shore. It stood, strangely, on stilts. Access was gained via a long staircase that led to a large balcony overlooking the sea.
From where we stood, I could see the waves hitting the shore.
Lord, I miss this, I thought. Waking up each morning to the sound of the sea.
“What a curious place,” said Sarah. “Why is it raised up like that?”
Micah smiled. “For protection from the sea, child. In this part of the world there are terrible storms called ‘hurricanes’ that can cause the sea to rise and, if the house wasn’t elevated on those pilings, it would be washed away.”
I turned to my husband. “From here, I go alone. You and Sarah keep yourselves hidden. We don’t know what Morrison will do when he sees me. If you catch sight of Samuel, spirit him away. Don’t wait for me. Just save our boy.”
Micah put his hand under my chin, tilting my face to his. “I will not leave you, my Maude. The children I will save, but I’ll not run away leaving you to face this demon alone.”
He leaned over and kissed me hard, then took Sarah by the hand and walked toward one of the many sand dunes that dappled the shoreline.
“We’ll wait here,” he said. “Be swift with what you do for I’m afraid my patience will soon run out and I’ll need to stand by your side.”
I smiled. “I will not tarry, my love.”
I watched them leave, then, putting one foot in front of the other, walked up to the long staircase that I thought might lead to my doom.
The sea breeze ruffled my hair as I stood at the bottom step. All was quiet – almost too quiet – like the calm before the storm. Taking a deep breath, I began to ascend the staircase.
When I reached the top, I was surprised to see a man standing at attention beside the doorway.
He was not ordinary in the least. Black as the night, he towered over me, clearly the tallest man I had ever seen. His face was stern, but unlined, with a wide, flat nose, and full, generous lips. His hair, black like his skin, was tied back neatly behind his head.
He was dressed in finery – silks and satins – with ruffles at the neck and wrists. He stared down at me, dark eyes piercing mine, but uttered not a word of greeting.
“Good day, sir,” I said softly, my bravado failing me in front of this strange man. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Maude Prichard Abbott Levine and I am here to see Mr. Ian Morrison. I do believe he is expecting me.”
The man said nothing in return, just nodded briefly, then turned and opened the door.
I stood frozen for a moment, then took a deep breath and walked inside.
The room was large, lavish, and furnished pleasantly with white wicker sofas, chairs, and tables. Large urns sat in every corner, holding immense fans that I assumed servants like the tall man and others wielded to ward off the heat and humidity of the place.
I stood for a moment taking it all in and was startled when I heard the door slam behind me.
Turning, I realized I was now alone and my first thought was to flee. But then, I remembered the baby I’d cradled in my arms the day I married Josiah Abbott and all thoughts of flight vanished from my mind.
I waited.
Finally, a door at the far end of the room opened. I held my breath.
A woman, dressed in robes of satin and silk, silently entered the room. She, like the man outside, was tall for one of her sex and black as coal. On her head, she wore a silken turban, her black hair woven in and out of the fabric in a curious fashion.
Her face, unlined, was beautiful – cheekbones high and proud like those of an Egyptian priestess. I was at a loss to guess her age as she seemed ageless.
She stood quietly staring at me, as if daring me to make the first move. I did nothing but stare back.
“How may we help you, missus?” she finally asked, the honey in her voice laced with menace.
I waited a beat or two before responding. “I am here to see Mr. Ian Morrison on the matter of my stepson, Samuel, who I believe is in his custody.”
The woman’s lips curved into a cruel smile. “Ah, Samuel. Yes, a lovely lad.”
Her words spoke volumes and I felt my anger rise. “If you have harmed one hair on his head, mi ‘lady, you will pay dearly.”
The woman laughed. “You misunderstand me, missus, I hold young Samuel in the highest regard. After all, he is the master’s ward.”
“It is your master whom I have come to see. Not you, not his minions, but the man himself, Ian Morrison! Tell him Maude Prichard Abbott Levine awaits his pleasure!”
The woman was nonplussed. Smiling seductively, she bowed her head. “Yes, missus, I will let the Master know you have arrived.”
Before I could reply, she disappeared. I knew, in my heart, that there had been nothing supernatural in her leaving, that she had simply slipped out the door. But her manner was disconcerting and, for a moment, my confidence wavered.
But I was set on my course, so I stood my ground and waited.
Minutes that seemed like hours on end slowly passed. Finally, the door opened.
Ian Morrison, sitting in his ancient wheeled chair, slowly entered the room. He was as I remembered, an old, old man smelling of onions and rotten meat. I girded myself so that I did not vomit at the stench of him.
“Maude Prichard,” he said softly. “What brings you to my humble home?”
I knew he was toying with me and I also knew that that was something I could not abide.
“Samuel. You stole him and, now, you will return him to me!”
The old man’s eyes narrowed and I could feel his power building.
“A BARGAIN IS A BARGAIN!” he shouted. “You have no claim on the lad now. HE IS MINE!”
I felt my body sway under the strength of his anger, but I held my place.
“Your bargain was a false one. I was tricked into giving away my boy. And, anyway, he was not mine to give.”
“What mean you, woman?”
“Samuel is the blood son of Josiah Abbott and his first wife, who died in childbirth. I am but his step-mother and, since Josiah was still alive at the time of said bargain, I had no right to give the babe away!”
For a moment, the old man seemed to consider my plea. But, then, he laughed and waved his hand, dismissing me.
“Nonsense! You were his mother, blood-borne or not! You gave him away. He is mine now – but soon he will be able to tell you himself and, perhaps, lay his lips at his mother’s breast again. Could he still suckle? Would you enjoy that?”
The old man laughed as I stood helpless before him. His words sickened me. I steeled myself. He would not corrupt my son!
“There is no bargain,” I said firmly. “The boy is not yours. I will raise him as my own until he is old enough to claim his birthright.”
“Oh, yes. He is heir to the Abbott estate. Hmmmm, I would like to spend some time in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Summers here can be so oppressive.”
I could tell he was teasing me and enjoying it immensely. It was time to let him know I meant business.
I raised my arms to the sky, fingers splayed wide. I then closed my eyes, and whispered words that came from deep within my soul, words spoken in a language I did not know or comprehend.
The old man’s eyes widened in surprise as he leaned forward in his chair, all of his faculties intent upon me.
BOOM!
A crash of thunder shook the house.
The old man gripped the handles on his chair as the air inside the room began to churn with purpose.
Papers sitting on a desk flew to
the ceiling, spinning as the new-found wind gained in intensity. A cyclone suddenly manifested itself and spun around the room wreaking havoc wherever it touched down.
I opened my eyes and stared at the old man.
“THERE IS NO BARGAIN!” I screamed. “GIVE ME MY SON!”
Morrison trained his eyes on me. They were icy blue and filled with hatred. Despite the chaos in the room, he rose from his chair, grasping his cane tightly in his fist. Pulling himself up to full height, he stepped toward me.
BAM!
He pounded his cane on the hardwood floor.
The wind I had created died immediately and, in its place, a thousand vipers began undulating their way out of newly found nooks and crannies in the floor and walls.
Their serpents’ eyes locked with mine. Slowly, they slithered forward, a thousand forked tongues flicking in and out, all the while exhibiting for me their lethal fangs.
The first and foremost of these was, like the legend, a king cobra. The viper stopped a few feet from where I stood and danced before my eyes as it prepared to take its deadly strike. Watching it, I raised my left hand, finger pointed at its flat head.
Suddenly, its body froze as it pulled its head back, preparing to attack.
ZAP!
A lightning bolt sprang from the tip of my finger, skewering the viper between its eyes, killing it instantly. When the cobra fell, all the other serpents disappeared, leaving behind only puddles of venom on the old man’s Persian carpet.
“A BARGAIN IS A BARGAIN!” the old man screamed as he pounded his cane against the floor once again.
BAM, BAM!
As the cane struck for the second time, the room filled with smoke and I struggled to breathe. This vapor, I recognized, was not normal and smelled of feces and stale urine. I gagged, feeling the power of the smoke seep deep into my body. Fearing for the child that grew within, I became consumed with a rage that I had never known before. This man, this monstrosity, was threatening my children, born and unborn. I could not allow him to succeed!
The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2) Page 18