Where the Summer Ends - By Karl Edward Wagner Page 0,95
within their sitting room. Seeing she was busy reading, Danielle poured sherry for them both and stood studying the bookshelves—a hodgepodge of occult and metaphysical topics stuffed together with art books and recent paperbacks in no particular order. Wedged between Aleister Crowley’s Magick in Theory and Practice and How I Discovered My Infinite Self by “An Initiate,” was Dr Magnus’s most recent book, The Shadow Stranger. She pulled it down, and Dr Magnus stared thoughtfully from the back of the dustjacket.
“Do you believe in reincarnation?” Lisette asked her.
“I do. Or rather, I do some of the time.” Danielle stood behind the couch and bent over Lisette’s shoulder to see where she was reading. “Midge Vaughn assures me that in a previous incarnation I was hanged for witchcraft.”
“Midge should be grateful she’s living in the twentieth century.”
“Oh, Midge says we were sisters in the same coven and were hanged together; that’s the reason for our close affinity.”
“I’ll bet Midge says that to all the girls.”
“Oh, I like Midge.” Danielle sipped her sherry and considered the rows of spines. “Did you say that man was wearing a medallion? Was it a swastika or that sort of thing?”
“No. It was something like a star in a circle. And he wore rings on every finger.”
“Wait! Kind of greasy black hair slicked back from a widow’s peak to straight over his collar in back? Eyebrows curled up into points like they’ve been waxed?”
“That’s it.”
“Ah, Mephisto!”
“Do you know him, then?”
“Not really. I’ve just seen him a time or two at the Equinox and a few other places. He reminds me of some ham actor playing Mephistopheles. Midge spoke to him once when we were by there, but I gather he’s not part of her particular coven. Probably hadn’t heard that the Equinox had closed. Never impressed me as a masher; very likely he actually did mistake you for someone.”
“Well, they do say that everyone has a double. I wonder if mine is walking somewhere about London, being mistaken for me?”
“And no doubt giving some unsuspecting classmate of yours a resounding slap on the face.”
“What if I met her suddenly?”
“Met your double—your Doppelganger? Remember William Wilson? Disaster, darling—disaster!”
•V•
There really wasn’t much to it; no production at all. Lisette felt nervous, a bit silly and perhaps a touch cheated.
“I want you to relax,” Dr Magnus told her. “All you have to do is just relax.”
That’s what her gynecologist always said, too, Lisette thought with a sudden tenseness. She lay on her back on Dr Magnus’s analyst’s couch: her head on a comfortable cushion, legs stretched primly out on the leather upholstery (she’d deliberately worn jeans again), fingers clenched damply over her tummy. A white gown instead of jeans, and I’ll be ready for my coffin, she mused uncomfortably.
“Fine. That’s it. You’re doing fine, Lisette. Very fine. Just relax. Yes, just relax, just like that. Fine, that’s it. Relax.”
Dr Magnus’s voice was a quiet monotone, monotonously repeating soothing encouragements. He spoke to her tirelessly, patiently, slowly dissolving her anxiety.
“You feel sleepy, Lisette. Relaxed and sleepy. Your breathing is slow and relaxed, slow and relaxed. Think about your breathing now, Lisette. Think how slow and sleepy and deep each breath comes. You’re breathing deeper, and you’re feeling sleepier. Relax and sleep, Lisette, breathe and sleep. Breathe and sleep...”
She was thinking about her breathing. She counted the breaths; the slow monotonous syllables of Dr Magnus’s voice seemed to blend into her breathing like a quiet, tuneless lullaby. She was sleepy, for that matter, and it was very pleasant to relax here, listening to that dim, droning murmur while he talked on and on. How much longer until the end of the lecture...
“You are asleep now, Lisette. You are asleep, yet you can still hear my voice. Now you are falling deeper, deeper, deeper into a pleasant, relaxed sleep, Lisette. Deeper and deeper asleep. Can you still hear my voice?”
“Yes.”
“You are asleep, Lisette. In a deep, deep sleep. You will remain in this deep sleep until I shall count to three. As I count to three, you will slowly arise from your sleep until you are fully awake once again. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“But when you hear me say the word amber, you will again fall into a deep, deep sleep, Lisette, just as you are asleep now. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Listen to me as I count, Lisette. One. Two. Three.”
Lisette opened her eyes. For a moment her expression was blank, then a sudden confusion. She looked at Dr Magnus seated beside her, then