The Eyes of Darkness

She felt a peculiar pulling sensation that seemed to come from within her hand, and she stiffened in surprise.

Instantly the invasive power retreated from her.

“What was that?” Elliot asked.

“Danny. He tried.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. But he startled me, and I guess even the little bit of resistance I offered was enough to push him away. At least we know this is the right map. Let me try again.”

She put the pen at the edge of the map once more, and she let her eyes drift out of focus.

The air temperature plummeted.

She tried not to think about the chill. She tried to banish all thoughts.

Her right hand, in which she held the pen, grew rapidly colder than any other part of her. She felt the unpleasant, inner pulling again. Her fingers ached with the cold. Abruptly her hand swung across the map, then back, then described a series of circles; the pen made meaningless scrawls on the paper. After half a minute, she felt the power leave her hand again.

“No good,” she said.

The map flew into the air, as if someone had tossed it in anger or frustration.

Elliot got out of his chair and reached for the map — but it spun into the air again. It flapped noisily to the other end of the room and then back again, finally falling like a dead bird onto the floor at Elliot’s feet.

“Jesus,” he said softly. “The next time I read a story in the newspaper about some guy who says he was picked up in a flying saucer and taken on a tour of the universe, I won’t be so quick to laugh. If I see many more inanimate objects dancing around, I’m going to start believing in everything, no matter how freaky.”

Tina got up from the bed, massaging her cold right hand. “I guess I’m offering too much resistance. But it feels so weird when he takes control… I can’t help stiffening a little. I guess you were right about needing to be in a trance.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. I’m a good cook, but I’m not a hypnotist.”

She blinked. “Hypnosis! Of course! That’ll probably do the trick.”

“Maybe it will. But where do you expect to find a hypnotist? The last time I looked, they weren’t setting up shops on street corners.”

“Billy Sandstone,” she said.

“Who?”

“He’s a hypnotist. He lives right here in Reno. He has a stage act. It’s a brilliant act. I wanted to use him in Magyck!, but he was tied up in an exclusive contract with a chain of Reno-Tahoe hotels. If you can get hold of Billy, he can hypnotize me. Then maybe I’ll be relaxed enough to make this automatic writing work.”

“Do you know his phone number?”

“No. And it’s probably not listed. But I do know his agent’s number. I can get through to him that way.”

She hurried to the telephone.

Chapter Thirty-One

Billy Sandstone was in his late thirties, as small and lean as a jockey, and his watchword seemed to be “neatness.” His shoes shone like black mirrors. The creases in his slacks were as sharp as blades, and his blue sport shirt was starched, crisp. His hair was razor-cut, and he groomed his mustache so meticulously that it almost appeared to have been painted on his upper lip.

Billy’s dining room was neat too. The table, the chairs, the credenza, and the hutch all glowed warmly because of the prodigious amount of furniture polish that had been buffed into the wood with even more vigor than he had employed when shining his dazzling shoes. Fresh roses were arranged in a cut-crystal vase in the center of the table, and clean lines of light gleamed in the exquisite glass. The draperies hung in perfectly measured folds. An entire battalion of nitpickers and fussbudgets would be hard-pressed to find a speck of dust in this room.

Elliot and Tina spread the map on the table and sat down across from each other.

Billy said, “Automatic writing is bunk, Christina. You must know that.”

“I do, Billy. I know that.”

“Well, then—”

“But I want you to hypnotize me anyway.”

“You’re a levelheaded person, Tina,” Billy said. “This really doesn’t seem like you.”

“I know,” she said.

“If you’d just tell me why. If you’d tell me what this is all about, maybe I could help you better.”

“Billy,” she said, “if I tried to explain, we would be here all afternoon.”

“Longer,” Elliot said.

“And we don’t have much time,” Tina said. “A lot’s at stake here, Billy. More than you can imagine.”

They hadn’t told him anything about Danny. Sandstone didn’t have the faintest idea why they were in Reno or what they were seeking in the mountains.

Elliot said, “I’m sure this seems ridiculous, Billy. You’re probably wondering if I’m some sort of lunatic. You’re wondering if maybe I’ve messed with Tina’s mind.”

“Which definitely isn’t the case,” Tina said.

“Right,” Elliot said. “Her mind was messed up before I ever met her.”

The joke seemed to relax Sandstone, as Elliot had hoped it would. Lunatics and just plain irrational people didn’t intentionally try to amuse.

Elliot said, “I assure you, Billy, we haven’t lost our marbles. And this is a matter of life and death.”

“It really is,” Tina said.

“Okay,” Billy said. “You don’t have time to tell me about it now. I’ll accept that. But will you tell me one day when you aren’t in such a damn rush?”

“Absolutely,” Tina said. “I’ll tell you everything. Just please, please, put me in a trance.”

“All right,” Billy Sandstone said.

He was wearing a gold signet ring. He turned it around, so the face of it was on the wrong side — the palm side — of his finger. He held his hand in front of Tina’s eyes.

“Keep your eyes on the ring and listen only to my voice.”

“Wait a second,” she said.

She pulled the cap off the red felt-tip pen that Elliot had purchased at the hotel newsstand just before they’d caught a taxi to Sandstone’s house. Elliot had suggested a change in the color of ink, so they would be able to tell the difference between the meaningless scribbles that were already on the map and any new marks that might be made.

Putting the point of the pen to the paper, Tina said, “Okay, Billy. Do your stuff.”

Elliot was not sure when Tina slipped under the hypnotist’s spell, and he had no idea how this smooth mesmerism was accomplished. All Sandstone did was move one hand slowly back and forth in front of Tina’s face, simultaneously speaking to her in a quiet, rhythmic voice, frequently using her name.

Elliot almost fell into a trance himself. He blinked his eyes and tuned out Sandstone’s melodious voice when he realized that he was succumbing to it.

Tina stared vacantly into space.

The hypnotist lowered his hand and turned his ring around as it belonged. “You’re in a deep sleep, Tina.”

“Yes.”

“Your eyes are open, but you are in a deep, deep sleep.”