Read An Evil Guest for Free Online Page B

he could do it in your flat, couldn’t he?”
    “So this is better.”
    “It is. There are mountains, and then there are mountains. Have you been to Africa?”
    “No.” She was hurrying after him.
    “I have. To Egypt and the Sahara, and to the semidesert edges of the Sahara. Once I looked across a wide, dry landscape and saw bushes.”
    “And?”
    “Some of those bushes were bushes and some were ostriches. All mountains are stone. Most have no life. This one is alive. You won’t believe that, and I’m not going to prove it to you. But it is.”
    “Wait up! Just a minute. Please!”
    He did. “It is alive and sentient. It can speak, though it rarely does. It has a wife who lives in one of its many caves. She is—a laundress. Let’s leave it at that. She isn’t important, but he is. Important to us, here, tonight.”
    “I’m starting to think you’re crazy, Dr. Chase. I—”
    “What is it?”
    “I’m barefoot, and you’re not.”
    “Yes. What are you getting at?” He had set down his canvas bag; as he spoke, he picked it up again.
    “I felt the ground tremble. Not a lot, just a tiny tremor. They, do they have earthquakes up here?”
    “You were born on this planet.” Gideon sounded angry. “You live on it, yet you know nothing about it. Antarctica is the only continent wholly free of earthquakes.”
    “The mountain . . .”
    “Didn’t like what you said. Correct. Have I told you that his wife is not the only thing that makes its home in his caves? She is not. Not by any means.”
    Cassie gulped, still shaken. “Got it. I’ll shut up for now.”
    “There’s an inn sign, the Silent Woman. Maybe I’ll take you there sometime.” Gideon looked back at her, smiling, and began to walk again.
    Ten minutes later (or it may have been fifteen) she asked, “Does this get steeper?”
    “Yes. Quite a bit steeper just before the summit. If you like, we’ll turn around and go back to the car.”
    She shook her head. “I’m game if you are.”
    “Barefoot.”
    “Barefoot and bleeding. You can walk faster than I am, but you won’t walk farther.” She pointed. “Up there. Is that the top?”
    “It is.”
    “I—” She gasped for breath. “Tell me about that flat rock.”
    A dozen more steps carried Gideon to it. “It’s an altar. Are you afraid I’m about to sacrifice you on it? I’m not.”
    Cassie caught up to him. “I can see where something’s been burned on it.” She sounded as if she were choking.
    “Exactly.” Gideon zipped open his canvas bag and took out what appeared to be a bundle of pale sticks. He turned his back to her as he laid it on the altar. When he faced her again, a small fire blazed there.
    “I don’t—I don’t even pray to God, Dr. Chase.”
    “That is none of my affair.” Taking a jar from his bag he poured the thick liquid it contained on one side of the fire, letting the last drops fall into the fire itself.
    Cassie sniffed and sniffed again. “I know that smell. Is it—”
    “It’s wild honey. You think I’m about to worship pagan deities. I am not, but there are certain persons with whom I wish to communicate. I’m preparing to do it. Now sit down—that high stone over there. I’ll sit on the low one facing you.” He sprinkled a powder on the flames, and the odor of honey was replaced by a new one, an odor pungent and sweet.
    “Perfume?” Cassie had not yet taken her seat.
    “Or incense. As you like.”
    “I . . .” She coughed. “I wouldn’t want to wear that. It’s, well . . .”
    “Sit down.” Gideon sat on a smaller stone facing hers.
    “Dark.” She found that she was seated, although she had not intended to sit. “There’s a bitter undercurrent.”
    “Correct. Be silent now and look at the moon, which is very beautiful indeed. I have a great deal to explain, and very little time in which to explain it.”
    For a few seconds that might have been much longer, there was only the sighing of the night wind.
    “The first thing I