“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 Ballet 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 look 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.”
Again Tammy shook her head. There was so much here to try and 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 story-telling. But she ignored him this time, and started down the stairs.
THREE
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 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.”