Authors: Clive Barker
“And nobody was suspicious?”
“I’m sure a lot of people were suspicious. But Lilith—or whoever she was—now occupied the Fortress. She had money, and apparently she was quite liberal with it. Local merchants got rich, local dignitaries were rather charmed by her, if the reports are to be believed—”
“Where did you find all these reports?”
“I bought most of the paperwork relating to the Fortress from the Fathers. They didn’t want it. I doubt they even knew what most of it was.
And to tell the truth a lot of it was rather dull. The price of pigs’ carcasses; the cost of having a roof made rain-proof . . . the usual domestic business.”
“So Lilith was quite the little homemaker?”
“I think she was. Indeed I believe she intended to have the Fortress as a place she could call her own. Somewhere her husband wouldn’t come; CC[001-347] 9/10/01 2:26 PM Page 320
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couldn’t
come, perhaps. I found a draft of a letter which I believe she wrote, to
him
—”
“To the Devil?” Tammy replied, scarcely believing she was giving the idea the least credence.
“To her husband,” Zeffer replied obliquely, “whoever he was.” He tapped his pocket. “I have it, here. You want to hear it?”
“Is it in English?”
“No. In Latin.” He reached into his jacket and took out a piece of much-folded paper. It was mottled with age. “Take a look for yourself,” he said.
“I don’t read Latin.”
“Look anyway. Just to say you once held a letter written by the Devil’s wife. Go on, take it. It won’t bite.”
Tammy reached out and took the paper from Zeffer’s hand. None of this was proof, of course. But it was more than a simple fabrication, that much was clear. And hadn’t she seen enough in her time in the Canyon to be certain that whatever
was
at work here was nothing she could explain by the rules she’d been taught in school?
She opened the letter. The hand it had been written in was exquisite; the ink, though it had faded somewhat, still kept an uncanny luster, as though there were motes of mother-of-pearl in it. She scanned it, all the way down to the immaculate and elaborate
Lilith
that decorated the bottom portion of the page.
“So,” she said, handing it back, her fingers trembling slightly. “What does it say?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
Zeffer began translating it without looking at the words. Plainly he had the contents by heart.
“
Husband,
she writes,
I am finding myself at ease in the Fortress Goga, and
I believe will remain here until our son is found
—”
“So she didn’t tell him?”
“Apparently not.” Zeffer scanned the page briefly. “She talks a little CC[001-347] 9/10/01 2:26 PM Page 321
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about the work she’s doing on the Fortress . . . it’s all very matter-of-fact . . . then she says:
Do not come, husband, for you will find no welcome in my
bed. If there is some peace to be made between us I cannot imagine it being soon,
given your violations of your oath. I do not believe you have loved me in many
years, and would prefer you did not insult me by pretending otherwise.”
“Huh.”
Whatever the source of the letter, its sentiments were easily understood. Tammy herself might have penned such a letter—in a simpler style, perhaps; and a little more viciously—on more than one occasion.
God knows, Arnie had violated his own vows to her several times, shamelessly.
Zeffer folded the letter up. “So, you can make what you want of all this.
Personally I think it’s the real thing. I believe this woman
was
Lilith, and that she stayed in the Fortress to work on her revenge, where neither God nor her husband would come and bother her. Certainly somebody created that room, and it was somebody who had powers that go far beyond anything we understand.”
“What happened when she was finished?” Tammy asked.
“She packed up and disappeared. Got bored perhaps. Went back to her husband. Or found a lover of her own. The point is, she left the Fortress with the room still intact. And with Goga and his men still in it.”
“And that’s what you bought?”
“That’s what I bought. Of course it took a little time to realize it, but I purchased a little piece of Hell’s own handiwork. And let me tell you—to make light of all this for a moment—it was Hell to move. There were thirty-three thousand, two hundred and sixty-eight tiles. They all had to be removed, cleaned, numbered, packed away, shipped and then put up again in exactly the same order that they’d been assembled in. I timed it so that the work could be done while Katya was off on a world tour, publi-cizing one of her pictures.”
“It must have driven you half crazy . . .”
“I kept thinking about how much pleasure Katya would derive from the room when it was finished. I was oblivious to the human cost. I just CC[001-347] 9/10/01 2:26 PM Page 322
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wanted Katya to be astonished; and then, to look at me—who’d given her this gift—with new eyes. I wanted her to be so grateful, so happy, she’d fling herself into my arms and say
I’ll marry you
. That’s what I wanted.”
“But that’s not the way it turned out?”
“No, of course not.”
“What happened? Did she dislike the room?”
“No, she understood the room from the beginning, and the room understood her. She started to take people down there, to show the place off. Her special friends. The ones who were obsessed with her. And there were plenty of those. Men and women both. They’d disappear down there for a few hours—”
“These were people she was having sex with?”
“Yes.”
“You said both men and women?”
“Preferably together. That’s what she liked best. A little of both.”
“And did everybody know?”
“About her tastes? Of course. Nobody cared. It was rather chic at the time. For women anyway. The nancy-boys like Navarro and Valentino, they had to cover it up. But Katya didn’t care what people thought.
Especially once she had the room.”
“It changed her?”
“It changed everyone who went into it, myself included. It changed our flesh. It changed our spirits.”
“How?”
“All you have to do is look at me to see how I changed. I was born in 1893. But I don’t look it. That’s because of the room. It has energies, you see, painted into the tiles. I believe it’s Lilith’s magic in the tiles. She used her infernal skills to lock the Duke and his men and all those animals into the illusion: that’s strong magic. The monks knew that. But they had the good sense to keep their distance from the place.”
“So did everyone who went down there stay young?”
“Oh no. By no means. It affected everyone a little differently. Some peo-
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ple simply couldn’t take it. They went in for a minute, and they were out again in a heartbeat.”
“Why?”
“It’s the Devil’s Country, Tammy. Believe me, it is.”
Tammy shook her head, not knowing what to believe. “So some people left, because they thought the Devil was in there?”
“That’s right. But most people felt some extra burst of energy when they went in the room. Maybe they felt a little younger, a little stronger, a little more beautiful.”
“And what was the price of it all?”
“
Good question
,” he said. “The fact is, everyone’s paid a different price.
Some people went crazy because of what they saw in there. A few committed suicide. Most . . . went on living, feeling a little better about themselves. For a while at least. Then the effect would wear off, and they’d need to come back for another fix . . .
“I knew a number of opium addicts in my life. One of them was a Russian designer, Anatole Vasilinsky. Ever heard of him?” Tammy shook her head. “No real reason why you should. He worked for the Ballets Russes, under Diaghilev. A brilliant man. But completely enslaved to ‘The Poppy’ as he used to call it. He came to the house only once, and of course Katya showed him the room. I remember the expression on his face when he came out. He looked like a man who’d just seen his own death. He was stricken; clammy-white, shaking. ‘I must never come here again,’ he said.
‘I don’t have enough room in my life for two addictions. It would be the death of me.’
“That’s what the room was, of course: an addiction. It addicted the flesh, by making you feel stronger, sleeker. It addicted the spirit, by giving you visions so vivid they were more real than real. And it addicted the soul, because you didn’t want any other kind of comfort, once you’d been in the room. Prayer was no use to you, laughter was no use to you, friends, ideals, ambitions . . . they all seemed inconsequential in that perpetual twilight.
When you were
here
, you thought all the time about being
there
.”
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Again Tammy shook her head. There was so much here to try to make sense of. Her mind was reeling.
“Do you see now why you must leave, and forget about Todd? He’s seen the room. That’s where she took him.”
“Are you sure?”
“He’s down there right now,” Zeffer said. “I guarantee it. Where else would she take him?”
Tammy got up from the table. The food had done her good. Though she still felt a little light-headed, she was considerably stronger.
“There’s nothing heroic about sacrificing yourself for him,” Zeffer pointed out. “He wouldn’t do it for you.”
“I know that.”
Zeffer followed her to the kitchen door. “So don’t. Leave, while you can. Tammy, I beg you.
Leave
. I’ll lead you out of the Canyon and you can go home.”
“Home,” Tammy said. The word, the idea, seemed hollow, valueless.
There was no home for her after this. Or if there was, it wasn’t the one she’d had. Arnie, the little house in Sacramento. How could she even think of going back to that?
“I have to find Todd,” she said. “That’s what I came here to do.”
Without waiting for Zeffer to lead her or escort her, she left the kitchen and went to the top of the stairs. He called after her. Another attempt at persuasion, no doubt; or some more fancy storytelling. But she ignored him this time, and started down the stairs.
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Katya had a little more of her story still to tell.
“ ‘My life is worth nothing,’ the Duke had told the Devil’s wife. He who had led armies and triumphed in his crusades against the infidel now found his life was at an end. And why? Because he had chased and killed what he took to be a goat?
“ ‘It was an accident!’ he said, his fury at the injustice of this suddenly getting the better of him. ‘I demand to be seen by some higher judge than you.’
“ ‘There is only one higher,’ Lilith replied. ‘And that’s my husband.’
“The Duke met her cold gaze, the profundity of his terror paradoxically making him brave.
“ ‘There is a God in Heaven,’ he said.
“ ‘Is there now?’ said Lilith. ‘Are you certain? I saw Him only once, the day He made me. Since then He has never shown His face. This is the Devil’s Country, Goga. My Lord Lucifer rules here. Or in his absence, me.
I doubt your God will stretch out His hand to save your soul.’
“ ‘Then I shall ride out of here,’ the Duke replied.
“ ‘You saw what happened to your comrade. I’ll do the same to you, before you reach your horse. I’ll have you wailing like a baby at my feet.’
“Goga wasn’t a stupid man. He knew there was no use in contradicting the woman. He’d already seen one of his men horribly slaughtered by her.
He would surely follow if he attempted to escape. All he could do was throw himself upon Lilith’s mercy.
“He went down on his knees, and composing himself as best he could, he addressed her:
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“ ‘Please, gentle lady, listen to me.’
“ ‘I’m listening.’
“ ‘I have lost children of my own, all six of them dead by the plague.
And my wife the same way. I know the pain you are suffering, and I’m sick that I was its cause. But what’s done is done. I made a mistake that I bitterly regret. But how can I take it back? Had I known I was on your husband’s land I would not even have hunted here.’
“Lilith looked at him for a long while, assessing the worth of his appeal.
“ ‘Well, hereafter, my lord,’ she said finally, ‘it is my pleasure that you and your men will hunt here
always
.’
“Another bitter breath up out of Hell to accompany these words. The woman’s long hair rose up around her body, a few of its strands grazing Goga’s upturned face.
“ ‘Get back on your horses, hunters,’ Lilith said. ‘Return to your hunt.
There are boar in the thicket, waiting to be driven out. There are birds in the trees, ready to be shot while they sing. Kill them at will, as it pleases you to do so. There will be no charge for your sport.’
“The Duke was astonished to hear this mild invitation, after all that had just taken place, and thinking perhaps his plea for clemency had carried some weight with Lilith, he very slowly got to his feet, thanking her.
“ ‘It’s most kind of you,’ he said, ‘to invite me to hunt. And perhaps another day I will come back here and accept your invitation. But today my heart is heavy—’
“ ‘As well it might be,’ the woman replied.
“ ‘So I think instead I will return to the Fortress and—’
“ ‘
No
,’ she said, raising her hand. ‘You will not return to the Fortress.
You will hunt
.’
“ ‘I could not, madam. Really, I could not.’
“ ‘Sir,’ she replied, with a little inclination of her head. ‘You misunderstood me.
You have no choice
. You will hunt, and you will go on hunting, until you find my son a second time, and bring him back to me.’