‘What if they don’t burn down?’ asked Portia.
‘If they don’t burn down, that would tell me that the force has somehow managed to suspend time here in this hallway, too, and that it’s probably done that because it’s aware that I’ve entered the house – just like it was the last time – and that it’s guessed what I’ve come here to do. And this time it might try to do me a great deal more mischief than simply pulling my hair out.’
He waited a little while longer, while the candle flames swivelled and dipped, but then he said, ‘No… it looks as if it’s fine, and it hasn’t yet twigged that I’m here. After all, I haven’t spoken its name yet. That’ll be the test, believe me. That’ll be the test.’
He bent down and picked up the three-headed cat, holding it so that its heads were resting on his left shoulder. He stroked it, over and over, and while he stroked it he leaned forward so that he could read the words from The Great Book of Lyre.
‘Hear me, o sleeping malevolence… awake from thy slumbers and hear my commands. Awake from thy slumbers and rise up, I adjure thee. Rise up and quit this domain, for today and for all eternity, and never seek to return. I command thee to leave in the name of Arawn, and in the name of Manannán, and with the power of Cailleach the veiled one, whose three spirits rest here now on my shoulder. It is daytime now, when the full moon is blinded and trusts in the guidance of saintly men and women, and when thou cannot divert its innocent strength for thine evil intentions.’
Rob could feel a humming under the floor, as if a huge electrical generator had started up somewhere beneath them. The frames of some of the paintings around the hallway started to rattle softly against the panelling, and from the kitchen he could hear the sound of plates jingling together on the dresser.
‘Hear me, o sleeping malevolence!’ Francis repeated, much louder this time. ‘Awake and take heed of my commands! Awake and quit this domain instanter! Quit this domain and release it from thy corrupted influence! Thy days and nights of dominance here are over forever!’
The humming grew louder and louder, until the whole house felt as if it were vibrating, and the circular gilt-framed mirror hanging next to the umbrella stand dropped off the wall, its frame chipping and its glass cracking in half. Vicky reached out and gripped Rob’s hand, and Grace put her arm around Portia. Even Katharine left the drawing-room doorway to come and stand close beside them.
‘I know thou canst hear my voice, o malevolence!’ Francis shouted. ‘I know that thou canst hear my voice and recognise the influence that I carry on my shoulder! Rise up and take thy leave, I command thee, by the sacred rule of three! Thou art banished from this domain until time turns in upon itself, and the heavens are swallowed up by darkness for all eternity!’
The humming grew louder still, and the vibration intensified, and now an oil painting of one of the Wilmingtons’ racehorses fell off the wall.
Abruptly, Francis stood up straight, still holding the cat on his shoulder, and roared out, ‘Esus! I know thee! I recognise thy presence here! Esus, I command thee to rise up, and quit this domain for ever!’
Outside, lightning flashed and crackled. Through the window by the front door Rob saw a dazzling bolt of lightning strike the headless cherub on its severed neck, so that lumps of broken marble tumbled across the courtyard. The lightning was followed almost at once by a bellowing roll of thunder, so loud that he couldn’t hear what Francis screamed out next. Even when the thunder had grumbled away, the vibration in the hallway continued.
Francis was standing still now, his eyes closed and his teeth gritted as if he were battling with some demon inside his head. He grunted with effort, lifting the three-headed cat an inch or two off his shoulder and then letting it drop back again.
‘Francis?’ said Rob. ‘Francis, what’s—?’
But Francis ignored him. Instead, he stepped sideways, away from the chair that he had made into a makeshift altar. He hesitated for a few seconds, stamping his left foot again and again, like an impatient horse. Then he flung the cat all the way across the hallway so that it thumped against the library door.
As soon as the cat dropped to the floor, all the candles blew out, one after the other, so that the altar was surrounded by drifting ribbons of smoke. Francis reached over, picked up the Celtic shield and tossed all the water in it over the sheepskin. Then he hurled the shield to one side so that it bowled along the hallway into the drawing room and then fell over with a reverberating clank.
‘Francis – what’s wrong?’ Rob asked him, but again Francis didn’t seem to hear him. He turned and stared back at Rob with those colourless eyes, but the expression on his face was unreadable. It wasn’t helplessness. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t hatred, either. He looked as if he couldn’t understand who or even what Rob was, and as if he couldn’t understand who or what he was, either.
‘Francis, this is all going tits up, isn’t it? Let’s stop.’
‘Francis, Rob’s right,’ said Grace, taking a step towards him and holding out her hand. ‘We’ll have to try something else. Perhaps your friend Father Salter can get in touch with that school of exorcism in Rome.’
Lightning flashed again, and again, as if a jostling crowd of paparazzi were taking pictures of them through the window.
Francis lifted one hand to his ear. He appeared to be listening to somebody who was whispering to him. He nodded, and nodded again, and then said, ‘Esus.’
‘Esus… is that the name of this force?’ Rob asked him.
But Francis didn’t answer.
