THE TRANCE
LAMARA’S countenance was youthful, but luminous with intelligence, and her
stately grace gave an impression of dignity and superiority. She was
exceedingly lovely. She gave him the Saturnian greeting, together with a
look of such amity and understanding as made him feel as if she had known
him all his life.
“I wish your Uncle Sam and Terence Mayne had come with you,” she
unexpectedly said. “Mary Faust is always near us. Miriam is within.” She
turned to a lofty man of middle age beside her: “This is our chief
councilor, Aunion: and this is my beloved Zarga, who lives close to my
heart: I have chosen her to be with Miriam.”
The girl thus designated was slight, and of striking beauty, with
cobweb-fine hair of red gold hue, and dark eyes, which she had from the
first fixed steadfastly on Jack. She was clothed in amethyst flames, like
flickering violet petals. Jack, looking into those strange eyes, had a
sensation of insecurity: mystery and fascination were in their unknown
depths. But any misgivings as to Miriam’s picked companion must be
baseless. As her hand touched his breast, the light contact gave him the
feeling that it had left an imprint there. She said, in a voice
surprisingly deep, “I hope to make you happy!” and stepped back: but he
was still aware that she observed him.
“You know too much of me not to know my errand here,” he said to Lamara.
“I hope your majesty will help me!”
“With all my heart!” said she, smiling. “We should be glad to have you and
Miriam always with us: but your older friends need you. Argon will have
told you of Miriam’s mishap, which we hope is slight: we do not yet know
how it happened.”
She glanced at Zarga as she spoke. The girl addressed him.
“Miriam will tell you better than I: she had learned of your setting out
hither, and when I was preparing the pavilion for her, she must have gone
to the Planetary Mirror to get a glimpse of you. That exposed her, and
Torpeon was on the watch.”
“This mark—is it painful?” Jack demanded.
“It inflicts no physical pain,” said Aunion, answering him in a kindly
tone. “The chief effect, aside from the recurring periods of trance, lies
in its rendering her less secure against further attacks. The results of a
second act of indiscretion on her part might be serious. I found the mark
resists ordinary means used to eradicate it: but if you and she are
circumspect and patient, the spell will be overcome.”
“We will go in,” said Lamara, taking Jack’s hand with a sympathizing look.
“Zarga, go before, and find whether Miriam is ready to receive us.”
Zarga slipped through the doorway and disappeared: the others followed.
The room which they entered seemed large, but was so woven across with
shafts of iridescent light as to disguise its dimensions: the
semitransparent walls had the luster of mother-of-pearl. As they seated
themselves on a divan, the light-shafts became denser until the party
appeared to be enclosed in a pentagonal chamber of moderate size and great
beauty. Lamara, observing Jack’s bewilderment, laughed as might a child
who had pleasantly surprised a friend.
“It’s the same natural process that makes flowers grow,” she said. “Add to
earth and light something human from yourself, and deserts may become
fertile and lovely. Such things as these, formed for the need of an hour,
return of themselves to what they came from when the need passes. Our
homes grow with us, never quite the same from one day to another. Science
married to love works wonders.”
She was interrupted by a cry from within, and in a moment Zarga appeared,
her hair flying about her like a ruddy mist, and her eyes wide and
ominous.
“The trance has come again!” was her announcement.
Jack sprang to his feet; but Lamara laid a reassuring hand on his arm.
“It is nothing,” she said quietly. “Torpeon cannot pass the bounds of his
license, though he may use it maliciously. He has chosen an hour close
upon the last, but it will be the longer before he can disturb us again.
Come, let us visit her.”
She led the way to an interior apartment. In a room of oval shape,
permeated with golden light, the form of a woman lay on a cushioned
lounge, deep asleep. Her face was turned upward: her abundant black hair
lay beneath her: the soft flames which draped her were of the hue of moss
roses. In the center of her forehead was a small circular mark with a star
in it center, red as blood. Her face was pale.
“Miriam!” Jack cried out, and was springing toward her: but Lamara
restrained him.
“Do not touch her while she is in this state!” she said urgently. “For you
to do so would be especially dangerous, because the results might be
spiritual as well as physical. As you know, we have not yet solved the
nature of the spell. This may be a trick of the magician to tempt you to
involve her still deeper.”
“But I love her! We love each other!” cried Jack; “Isn’t love strong
enough to overcome anything?”
“Love is unconquerable because it is an immortal spirit: but passion is
mixed with earth, and seeks itself in the other. Power over evil is always
from above.”
The look and voice of Lamara, more than the veiled purport of her words,
prevailed over the young lover. They carried conviction of truth. He
mastered himself, and stood gazing with longing eyes at the motionless
figure. He hated the material bonds that withheld him from communion with
her soul.
“It is only for an hour!” said Lamara encouragingly. “When she wakens, we
will all take counsel together. You overcame Torpeon; it will be more
fruitful victory to overcome yourself.”
“I must at least stay here beside her,” Jack returned. “He might attempt
something else: and it’s my right to defend her.”
“I will trust you,” said Lamara, “because I perceive that there is more of
spirit than of earth in your love: but there is earth, too, and remember
that it is through earth that your enemy is strong! We will leave you here
for a while: there are many things to be done to clear the way for your
return to your world. Zarga will remain within call. Be faithful and
patient!”
She withdrew, with Argon and Aunion. Zarga crouched beside the couch, her
strange eyes dwelling upon the face of the unconscious figure. The
beautiful features had the serenity and almost the pallor of death, but
the slight rise and fall of the bosom was evidence that she lived. Jack
cautiously bent over to scrutinize the mark on her brow.
“It seems a slight thing to have so deep an effect!” he muttered.
“All magic is pretense,” said Zarga looking up at him. “We may be deceived
in the efficiency of this spell. Torpeon may count on that!”
“Can Lamara, you Highest, be deceived?” exclaimed Jack, surprised.
“You heard her say that the nature of the spell had not been solved. She
is wise and prudent: but perhaps gives too much weight to Aunion’s
opinions. He, too, is wise, but age has made him timid. In their presence
it didn’t become me to speak.”
“Do you know something they do not?”
“The blood of the Torides is in my veins,” replied Zarga, “and it gives me
an understanding of their nature which a pure Saturnian could not have. It
led me, out of curiosity, to make a study of their magic, though secretly.
We hold it to be unlawful, and instead of mastering its methods, we
confine ourselves to seeking antidotes against it. I am foolish to have
told you this—but I believe you are too noble to denounce me. My only wish
is to serve you and Miriam, if I may. I think this mark could be easily
annulled. Your own intuition about it was truer than our science.” She met
his troubled gaze for a moment, and added, “You said that love is enough!”
“Tell me all in your mind—you need have no fears!”
“Give me your hand,” said Zarga. She took it between her own, pressing her
left palm against his, and continuing to look into his eyes. He was
conscious of a keen thrill or vibration that passed from her hand to his
heart, and again from his eyes to hers, establishing a circuit between
them. There was something sweet in it, but also perilous. He felt that
there had been a disclosure, which might better have been avoided; and yet
what could he apprehend from this girl? Lamara trusted her.
“You are what I thought,” she said after a while, relinquishing his hand,
with an enigmatic smile. “I will tell you my belief, and you can weigh its
value in your own mind. Every moment that this mark remains on Miriam’s
forehead, its roots grow deeper, and the harder it will prove to take it
off. Before Aunion’s science can reach it, it will have become part of her
being, which it would be death to disturb. Each swoon into which she sinks
makes her more Torpeon’s, and less yours. No one but the man who loves her
can break the spell: and the time to break it is now! If the prince wins
her from you, you can never win her back. Even her love for you will be
destroyed!”
“That cannot be true!” answered he drawing back.
“Love is immortal: Lamara said it, and I know it!”
“I know nothing of immortality,” Zarga replied, with a touch of scorn.
“But whatever it be, I would not, if I were a man, wish to give the woman
I loved to another during this life of earth!”
Jack’s face flushed. “We can both die!” he said.
“Love wants life, not death!” the girl exclaimed. “Love has a body as well
as a soul! Do you know that, while we sat here, Torpeon is with her? An
hour of trance is his hour of possession! And how long will a woman love a
man who stays inactive while she is in his rival’s arms? Women love the
possessor!”
He stood up, tense and trembling. The thought of his promise to Lamara
fought with the passions that Zarga had aroused. But if Zarga’s view were
right, Lamara would withdraw her warning. What should he do?
Zarga seemed to read his mind. “It’s not for a girl such as I to tell a
lover what to do to save the woman he loves,” she said. “But I warn you,
if you touch her, Torpeon will exert his whole power to keep her. And
don’t think you can baffle him again as you did once! He will come with
his legions behind him!”
Love, jealousy, and the pride of a man’s valor against his foe, were
temptations too strong: and at that moment Miriam stirred in her trance,
her eyelids quivered and her lips moved. There came a muffled whisper.
“Jack—beloved—drive him away—save me—take me!”
She relapsed into immobility.
He was strung to the high pitch now. With love and wrath at once tingling
through his nerves, he stooped to take Miriam in his arms: that mark—a
kiss would obliterate it!
A shrill shout, which brought an incongruous image of Jim to mind, rang in
his ears. A swirl of dark vapor filled the air. It seemed to him, however,
that he held Miriam: he clasped her close. In the darkness, strange faces
glared out at him and vanished. The woman responded to his embrace: she
clung passionately to him. Yet there were both fire and ice in her
contact, and Miriam seemed lost. Soft, fiery lips touched his, and
fastened to them, they took his breath: he was buffeted, and staggered as
if in a whirlwind. In the obscurity he had glimpses of other figures, and
shafts of light, like swords, blindingly bright, struck through the dark.
There were howlings and fierce outcries, receding and growing fainter, and
a chilling gust dissipated the obscurity. The beautiful palace had
disappeared: the scene was bleak and desolate; gravel and sand were
underfoot and clumps of thorny bushes and stunted trees surrounded him.
But he still held the form of the woman in his arms: they had failed to
tear her from him; at least he so believed.
But she pressed her hands against his breast and writhed like a serpent to
free herself. The cloud of hair that floated out from her in the wind was
ruddy like fire. This slender, subtle face with its wild dark eyes—this
was not Miriam! This was Zarga!
His arms relaxed and fell to his sides. She leaped away from him, and
stood for a moment, throwing out her arms and screaming words which he
could not distinguish: then she turned and fled away like a fantom,
vanishing behind the thorny bushes.
He was alone in the wilderness. He took a step forward, and fell heavily
on his face.