The Slayer of Souls

Only by the sudden onset of the plague in various cities of the land had Recklow any clew concerning the whereabouts of Sanang.

In Boston, then Washington, then Kansas City, and then New York the epidemic suddenly blazed up. And in these places of death the Secret Service men always found a clew, and there they hunted Sanang, the Yezidee, to kill him without mercy where they might find him.

But they never found Sanang Noïane; only the ghastly marks of his poisoned claws on the body of the sickened nation – only minds diseased by the Red Plague and bodies dying of the Black Death – civil and social centres disorganized, disrupted, depraved, dying.

When the blizzard burst upon New York, struggling in the throes of the plague, and paralysed the metropolis for a week, John Recklow sent out a special alarm, and New York swarmed with Secret Service men searching the snow-buried city for a graceful, slender, dark young man whose eyes slanted a trifle in his amber-tinted face; who dressed fashionably, lived fastidiously, and spoke English perfectly in a delightfully modulated voice.

And to New York, thrice stricken by anarchy, by plague, and now by God, hurried, from all parts of the nation, thousands of secret agents who had been hunting Sanang in distant cities or who had been raiding the traitorous and secret gatherings of his mental dupes.

Agent ZB-303, who was volunteer agent James Benton, came from Boston with his new bride who had just arrived by way of England – a young girl named Yulun who landed swathed in sables, and stretched out both lovely little hands to Benton the instant she caught sight of him on the pier. Whereupon he took the slim figure in furs into his arms, which was interesting because they had never before met in the flesh.

So, – their honeymoon scarce begun, Benton and Yulun came from Boston in answer to Recklow's emergency call.

And all the way across from San Francisco came volunteer agent XLY-371, otherwise Alek Selden, bringing with him a girl named Sansa whom he had gone to the coast to meet, and whom he had immediately married after she had landed from the Japanese steamer Nan-yang Maru. Which, also, was remarkable, because, although they recognised each other instantly, and their hands and lips clung as they met, neither had ever before beheld the living body of the other.

The third man who came to New York at Recklow's summons was volunteer agent 53-6-26, otherwise Victor Cleves.

His young wife, suffering from nervous shock after the deaths of Togrul Khan and of the Baroulass girl, Aoula, had been convalescing in a private sanitarium in Westchester.

Until the summons came to her husband from Recklow, she had seen him only for a few moments every day. But the call to duty seemed to have effected a miraculous cure in the slender, blue-eyed girl who had lain all day long, day after day, in her still, sunny room scarcely unclosing her eyes at all save only when her husband was permitted to enter for the few minutes allowed them every day.

The physician had just left, after admitting that Mrs. Cleves seemed to be well enough to travel if she insisted; and she and her maid had already begun to pack when her husband came into her room.

She looked around over her shoulder, then rose from her knees, flung an armful of clothing into the trunk before which she had been kneeling, and came across the room to him. Then she dismissed her maid from the room. And when the girl had gone:

"I am well, Victor," she said in a low voice. "Why are you troubled?"

"I can't bear to have you drawn into this horrible affair once more."

"Who else is there to discover and overcome Sanang?" she asked calmly.

He remained silent.

So, for a few moments they stood confronting each other there in the still, sunny chamber – husband and wife who had never even exchanged the first kiss – two young creatures more vitally and intimately bound together than any two on earth – yet utterly separated body and soul from each other – two solitary spirits which had never merged; two bodies virginal and inviolate.

Tressa spoke first: "I must go. That was our bargain."

The word made him wince as though it had been a sudden blow. Then his face flushed red.

"Bargain or no bargain," he said, "I don't want you to go because I'm afraid you can not endure another shock like the last one… And every time you have thrown your own mind and body between this Nation and destruction you have nearly died of it."

"And if I die?" she said in a low voice.

What answer she awaited – perhaps hoped for – was not the one he made. He said: "If you die in what you believe to be your line of duty, then it will be I who have killed you."

"That would not be true. It is you who have saved me."

"I have not. I have done nothing except to lead you into danger of death since I first met you. If you mean spiritually, that also is untrue. You have saved yourself – if that indeed were necessary. You have redeemed yourself – if it is true you needed redemption – which I never believed – "

"Oh," she sighed swiftly, "Sanang surprised my soul when it was free of my body – followed my soul into the Wood of the White Moth – caught it there all alone – and – slew it!"

His lips and throat had gone dry as he watched the pallid terror grow in her face.

Presently he recovered his voice: "You call that Yezidee the Slayer of Souls," he said, "but I tell you there is no such creature, no such power!

"I suppose I – I know what you mean – having seen what we call souls dissociated from their physical bodies – but that this Yezidee could do you any spiritual damage I do not for one instant believe. The idea is monstrous, I tell you – "

"I – I fought him – soul battling against soul – " she stammered, breathing faster and irregularly. "I struggled with Sanang there in the Wood of the White Moth. I called on God! I called on my two great dogs, Bars and Alaga! I recited the Fatha with all my strength – fighting convulsively whenever his soul seized mine; I cried out the name of Khidr, begging for wisdom! I called on the Ten Imaums, on Ali the Lion, on the Blessed Companions. Then I tore my spirit out of the grasp of his soul – but there was no escape! – no escape," she wailed. "For on every side I saw the cloud-topped rampart of Gog and Magog, and the woods rang with Erlik's laughter – the dissonant mirth of hell – "

She began to shudder and sway a little, then with an effort she controlled herself in a measure.

"There never has been," she began again with lips that quivered in spite of her – "there never has been one moment in our married lives when my soul dared forget the Wood of the White Moth – dared seek yours… God lives. But so does Erlik. There are angels; but there are as many demons… My soul is ashamed… And very lonely … very lonely … but no fit companion – for yours – "

Her hands dropped listlessly beside her and her chin sank.

"So you believe that Yezidee devil caught your soul when it was wandering somewhere out of your body, and destroyed it," he said.

She did not answer, did not even lift her eyes until he had stepped close to her – closer than he had ever come. Then she looked up at him, but closed her eyes as he swept her into his arms and crushed her face and body against his own.

Now her red lips were on his; now her face and heart and limbs and breast melted into his – her breath, her pulse, her strength flowed into his and became part of their single being and single pulse and breath. And she felt their two souls flame and fuse together, and burn together in one heavenly blaze – felt the swift conflagration mount, overwhelm, and sweep her clean of the last lingering taint; felt her soul, unafraid, clasp her husband's spirit in its white embrace – clung to him, uplifted out of hell, rising into the blinding light of Paradise.

Far – far away she heard her own voice in singing whispers – heard her lips pronounce The Name– "Ata – Ata! Allahou – "

Her blue eyes unclosed; through a mist, in which she saw her husband's face, grew a vast metallic clamour in her ears.

Her husband kissed her, long, silently; then, retaining her hand, he turned and lifted the receiver from the clamouring telephone.

"Yes! Yes, this is 53-6-26. Yes, V-69 is with me… When?.. To-day?.. Very well… Yes, we'll come at once… Yes, we can get a train in a few minutes… All right. Good-bye."

He took his wife into his arms again.

"Dearest of all in the world," he said, "Sanang is cornered in a row of houses near the East River, and Recklow has flung a cordon around the entire block. Good God! I can't take you there!"

Then Tressa smiled, drew his head down, looked into his face till the clear blue splendour of her gaze stilled the tumult in his brain.

"I alone know how to deal with Prince Sanang," she said quietly. "And if John Recklow, or you, or Mr. Benton or Mr. Selden should kill him with your pistols, it would be only his body you slay, not the evil thing that would escape you and return to Erlik."

"Must you do this thing, Tressa?"

"Yes, I must do it."

"But – if our pistols cannot kill this sorcerer, how are you going to deal with him?"

"I know how."

"Have you the strength?"

"Yes – the bodily and the spiritual. Don't you know that I am already part of you?"