Tell Me I'm Dreamin' (31 page)

He looked down the path that, lit by a full moon, headed toward the small section of houses. The natural light was so bright he could almost see the hovels from where he stood outside of Sharpe Hall's entrance. Basil's lips felt dry, so he licked them with anticipation as he thought about what he was about to do. Yes, Nadine would come, because she cared so much for that near-African bastard, Ulysses. He had seen it in her eyes yesterday, and Catherine had told their cook that Nadine worked so hard because of her feelings for Ulysses. His reddened eyes radiated jealousy and hate.

At first Basil had planned to only rough her up a bit, and take what Ulysses was being given. But through the years he had become an expert with his whip. He knew what kind of lash would leave a permanent scar or just raise the skin a bit. After Ulysses attacked him yesterday, he had decided to leave a more lasting impression.

Basil turned as he heard hurried footsteps behind him. He saw Kevin emerge from a group of evergreen trees. Breathing heavily, his servant explained how he had delivered the note and hurried back because the young woman was not far behind. Kevin had taken a shortcut through the woods in order to arrive at Sharpe Hall in enough time before Nadine arrived.

Basil nodded. “You have done well, Kevin. Now go to the kitchen and tell Mary to fix you an extra plate tonight, along with a bottle of rum. You have earned it.”

A distant breeze carried the faint notes of music being played at Sovereign. Basil had counted on his brother and sister attending the social to keep them from nosing around the servants until his plan was carried out. Melanie had always protected Ulysses and Sovereign, and Rodney—Basil turned up his nose with disgust—was nothing but her pawn.

Basil reached back to make sure his object of perverted pleasure was secure within his pocket. Satisfied, he hastened toward the neighborhood, making sure he stayed clear of the well-lit path.

A whirlwind of anger, hurt, and shock played havoc with Ulysses as he slung open the library door. Pacing furiously, he condemned himself for believing Nadine, and wondered what kind of hold Basil had on her. Ulysses felt the ultimate betrayal because he had allowed himself to fall in love with her, and now realized she held a force far different from love as her motivation. Which one was it? Money or power?

Reluctantly, his mind conjured up images of their lovemaking the night before, and he wondered what kind of woman would give up her virginity to one man, and then run into the arms of his enemy. Maybe if he had told her he wanted her for his wife, she would have abandoned her alliance with Basil. But he was afraid to speak of such a commitment so quickly. Now he was glad he had not. This woman was the worst kind of chameleon, changing to fit whatever situation served her best.

Ulysses cried out in anguish, and in his pain he struck out, knocking a porcelain statuette to the floor. He was so tormented he did not hear the library door open and Madame Deane wheel herself inside. When she spoke her voice was frail from being heavily sedated.

“My God, Ulysses, what has happened?”

Startled by the sound of her voice, and embarrassed to be seen so distraught, Ulysses turned his tortured face away from his aunt. “There is nothing you can do, Aunt Helen.”

“But how do you know? Maybe I can help—” Her weak and distorted voice cut off abruptly, changing to a strong, raspy tone. “There is nothing I can do, but I believe she can.”

Despite himself Ulysses turned to look at her. Her spine was ramrod-straight against the back of the wheelchair, her knuckles gone white, revealing how tightly she squeezed the arms of the apparatus. Her eyes held a conviction Ulysses had not seen in years.

“What do you mean there is something she can do?” Fearing his aunt had completely lost all ability to reason in the midst of everything else that was upon him.

“The seer. Who else would I mean?” she threw back at him sarcastically, her eyes extremely lucid. “It is with her help that I speak to you so clearly now.”

Dumbfounded by what he was hearing, Ulysses looked up at the ceiling. “Oh my God, Aunt Helen.”

“You must believe me. A woman by the name of Verda has been coming to me since my accident. First she was just in my dreams. Then she started appearing in visions and I thought I was crossing over into insanity. But now I know I'm not.”

Overwhelmed by the onslaught of events, Ulysses doubled over with uncontrollable laughter. He did not want to hurt his aunt, but like a spider's thread, laughter was Ulysses' thin line to mental safety.

The metal click of the library door being locked broke his hysteria, and he looked up, exhausted.

“Do you believe me now, Ulysses?”

He was astounded by what he saw. Ulysses' mouth went dry as his aunt appeared to be supported by an invisible force as she stood in front of the wheelchair.

“Could I do this?”

There were no words that would come to allow Ulysses to reply. He watched his aunt descend gracefully into her chair.

“If it had not been for Verda, I would have died from the fall into the well at Sharpe Hall. Verda came to my aid because something I had come across needed protecting. If my life had never been threatened, there would not have been a need for her to come back.” She eyed him triumphantly. “She would talk to my spirit whenever it felt weak and wanted to leave my body for a more satisfying place. But my body and mind were still needed here. So listen carefully, Ulysses, for this is what I must tell you now.

“Your father and I believed there was a connection between our family and the cliff dwellers. He had been receptive to the idea but secretive about it. Whereas I was driven to know the truth although I feared it. Because, as you know, to most of the islanders the cliff dwellers are almost seen as savages living in the mountains.

“But your father, Peter, had always nurtured a burning passion to know more about, and to embrace, foreign cultures; hence his love for your mother, and his interest in the cliff dwellers. This passion was his destiny, simply another layer in the events leading up to tonight. He is the one who transcribed the Legend of Lenora into English that Nadine has in her possession now. He believed, like the cliff dwellers, that the woman to come after Lenora would come from a land rich in western culture. West is the direction of the sunken Lemuria. So once again the present is a reflection of the past.” She paused and swallowed before continuing. “She would come from a land just beyond the Atlantic Ocean. The United States of America.

“I found the papyri and the translation of the legend years after your father and mother died. Later I discovered the lost page that your father had hidden for safekeeping. Like your father, I understood the Legend of Lenora and the part you, Ulysses, as well as the Five Pieces of Gaia would play in it. And like him, I was afraid for anyone else to know. So I hid it before the accident. And afterwards I could not remember where.”

Ulysses could not totally understand what she was telling him, and he questioned his own ability to reason when he began to entertain the possibility that the story she told was true. But he had seen his Aunt Helen stand, something that was impossible for her to do alone. There was no way for him to deny that forces he had heard of from the cliff dwellers and others who believed in the spiritual realm were at work.

The incomplete passage in the family journal surfaced in his mind. He acknowledged that his father's death was preceded by a period where he was inactive in his journal-writing. But was he on the verge of revealing what he had discovered from the Legend of Lenora*? Was that the answer to the unfinished message that had haunted him for so many years?

“Henry Sharpe knew of my search for the truths.” Aunt Helen's voice broke into his thoughts. “He gave the things I told him no credence, and reduced it all down to the ravings of unstable females, since his wife, Evelyn, also spoke of the Legend of Lenora when she was drunk.

“Once while throwing his adulterous affairs in his wife's face, Henry told her she and I would probably like one another, since both our minds conjured up the same kind of fantasies. That day I told Henry I had found the lost page of the translations and I thought it referred to you and a manuscript that was hidden between some stone slabs. I told him it was called the Five Pieces of Gaia, a part of the Sovereign collection.

“Unknown to Henry, this was very important to Evelyn. You see, she was not as inept as he thought. Alcoholism had taken over her life and she knew there was no hope for her. But that did not stop her from wishing for a better life for her children, especially her daughter, Melanie. She felt she had relinquished her power and her life to Henry, but she wanted to make sure Melanie did not suffer the same fate. Even if it meant taking power from others.

“It was Evelyn who had delivered the message with Sharpe Hall's seal to me that day. And it was Evelyn who pushed me into the well, leaving me for dead out of jealousy, as well as protecting the future of her child. Only I knew where the lost page of the translation was hidden, but my memory and perceptions had been impaired as a result of the accident. Verda hoped that I would find it in time.” Aunt Helen took a yellowed sheet of paper from the folds of her chiton, and handed it to Ulysses. He looked at his father's handwriting.

“It starts with an incomplete sentence,” Aunt Helen told him. “The original papyri was written for Nadine by Lenora thousands and thousands of years ago. A key written for the woman with whom her life purpose was connected, and now, the answer to the exact day and time when the prophecy will be fulfilled.” She paused to let her words sink in. “The sentence began like this: ‘You will be united with a man—'”

Ulysses took over and began to read. “. . . whose name is exalted on paper and in song, a cunning hero and warrior whose strength has mastered a mighty bow. His blood and his temperament will be dark, split in half, because he was born of two civilizations old.” Ulysses looked up, his dark eyes full of recognition tinged with skepticism.

“Yes,” Aunt Helen said, “it is referring to you, Ulysses.”

He began to read again. “In the year when Lenora's reflection returns, the dark shall plant its seeds when the full moon rises on the second night when the Children of Mu sing. The dark will be enticed by the light, seduced by the Five Pieces of Gaia, and named similar to a melody.” He stopped. “What does it mean?”

“It means this is the night, Ulysses, they had all envisioned. Lenora's reflection, Nadine, has returned. There is a full moon, and the second night of the cliff dwellers' spiritual ceremony has begun. The prophecy must be fulfilled before midnight,” Aunt Helen declared. “The dark will plant his seed again during a ceremony called the Rite of Commencement. During that ceremony the manuscript inside the Five Pieces of Gaia will be used. You have an important part to play, and so does the young woman, Nadine.” Her eyes revealed that she knew what had happened between them during the wee morning hours. With talon-like hands Aunt Helen grabbed his forearms. “Now go. Take the carved bronze chest with you. Find Nadine. She will be in need of you.”

Ulysses stared into the bottomless gaze of the tiny, but strangely powerful woman he had known all of his life. The eyes were familiar, but at the same time foreign. She had talked of ancient things of which he had no knowledge, and only now did she reveal her knowledge of the manuscript inside the stones. There was no way for Ulysses to totally understand and embrace all the things she had said, but there was one thing he was certain of. Something or someone supernatural was aiding Aunt Helen now. And no matter how Nadine had betrayed him, he loved her, and he could not let her be harmed. But, Ulysses vowed to himself, once this night was over, and she was safe, he would have nothing more to do with her.

Chapter
27

Nadine's scream rang out piercingly in the moonlit night. It seemed to go on for an eternity before she drifted away into the peaceful oblivion of a dead faint. In her state of unconsciousness she dreamed she was being carried away upon strong, gentle arms, and the voices about her spoke an unfamiliar language, espousing rhythmic, guttural tones. Whenever she attempted to awaken, a pungent but pleasant scent would assail her, tenderly pushing her back down in her cushioned but altered mental state.

They traveled for quite a distance, climbing higher as they went, until they reached an area nestled protectively among several mountain cliffs. There she was taken into an enclosed area and laid upon a soft pile of animal skins.

Now those who had carried her to this strange place were replaced by-others, who stripped her naked and bathed her in a lukewarm liquid kept tepid by a smoldering fire. Their ministrations made her think of her childhood. Their gentle, caring hands reminded her of Grandma Rose; she was always there when she needed her, after a fall or brutal words.

The cool trailing of fingers down her arms and legs chilled her, but this soon halted, and shortly afterwards she was covered under a pleasant cloth and allowed to continue her sleep.

Ulysses pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers. After realizing who he was, the workers began to step aside, making a small path for him. His heart pounded as he approached the center of the terrified and curious group. Prayers that he had not said since he was a child formed on his lips as he broke through to the center. Was he too late? Had Basil had his way with her, and then been so brutal and cruel that he left her here at the edge of the woods for dead? A sinking feeling of remembrance surfaced within him.

Ulysses' handsome features twisted into a startled grimace as he looked down, not on the face that he feared, but into Basil's lifeless eyes. The last shock-filled moments of his existence were held for posterity by the beginnings of unkind rigor mortis. A steady stream of blood trickled from his open, but now-pale lips, the only exterior clue to his demise.

Carefully, Ulysses turned Basil's stiffening frame over with a thud. There, planted deep within his back, was a huge, decorative dagger, one that Ulysses recognized instantly.