Jenny Plague-Bringer(82)
Junius felt a cold burning in his heart as the three men left. He reached for the remote, now dangling from its wall cable, and managed to catch in his arthritic fingers. He dragged it up onto the hospital bed with him, and he lay a finger on the red EMERGENCY button. Before he could press it, his heart stopped and his eyes glazed over.
Outside, the barn owl took flight.
Chapter Twenty-Three
On New Year’s Eve, Jenny, Seth, and Mariella took the train west across France, traveling to the small town of Carnac on the coast of Brittany. The place was a tourist destination in the summer, but in January it was freezing cold, and much of the town lay empty and quiet.
Jenny had suggested they find very old ruins, since Alexander had taken her to an ancient Mayan pyramid half-swallowed by the jungle when he’d helped Jenny recover her past-life memories—the ones he’d wanted her to remember, anyway, the lifetimes she’d spent as his consort.
Mariella had suggested the standing stones of Carnac, the oldest known structures in all of Europe, built about five thousand years earlier. Thousands of stones, some of them more than twice as high as a tall man, were arranged in straight rows that stretched for half a mile or longer. Their original prehistoric purpose remained unknown, but might have been related to religion or astrology.
Carnac itself was a pretty little village of centuries-old houses and cobblestone streets. A “campground” near the standing stones offering camping sites for tents, but also rental apartments and mobile homes. Seth rented a two-bedroom trailer for their stay, joking that it made him feel like he was back home in South Carolina.
They dropped off their overnight luggage in the rented trailer, including paints and canvases, which would provide their cover story if local authorities caught them among the standing stones late at night. Tonight was a full moon, providing plenty of light for painting, and Jenny thought the full moon might even help with their real purpose, too.
They ate at a local restaurant, enjoying a thick stew called Pot au Feu de Homard, full of lobster, scallops, shrimp, oysters, and mussels, all locally caught. Jenny peppered Mariella with questions about her life in Milan, and was rewarded with stories of lavish parties at her family’s palazzo, crowded with Italian politicians, film directors, and fashion models—sometimes exciting, often tedious, according to Mariella, but it all sounded insanely glamorous to Jenny. Mariella had quietly offered “palm readings” to those who wanted them, just for fun, but her parents strongly discouraged it, as did their priest.
They walked through the little village during the sunset, browsing the shops and playing tourist, and later returned to the “campground” to pass time on the water slides at the heated indoor pool, an unexpected treat on a cold winter night.
When it was late enough, they sat in the living/dining area of the trailer, and Mariella placed a large camera bag on the table, with a sticker warning that it contained exposed film that should not be exposed to the light. She opened it up and took out a camera, followed by a plastic bag full of pointy, dark brown dried mushrooms.
“He told me the name of these, but I forgot,” Mariella said. “They were supposed to be the strongest ones the guy could get.”
The sight of the mushrooms made Jenny a little frightened, remembering how intense her previous experience had been. She was glad she wasn’t taking any tonight.
“I also brought some smoke, in case we need it to take the edge off.” Mariella tossed a half-ounce of shaggy purple marijuana buds onto the table next to the mushrooms. “And I brought wine, because...just because.”
“Looks like a wild night for you two,” Jenny said.
“So what do we do now?” Seth asked. “Is there a ritual? Do we have to chant or strangle a chicken or something?”
“The chicken sacrificing doesn’t start until later,” Jenny told him. “Y’all just eat the shrooms, they take a while to kick in. Then we’ll go walking.”
Seth picked up one of the brown mushrooms. “They look like...little shriveled brains.”
“Does that make them more appetizing to you?” Jenny asked.
He put in his mouth, chewed, and gagged, looking disgusted. “They taste like shit.”
“They grow in shit, so it makes sense.” Mariella curled her lips as she placed one in her mouth, then took a swig of wine. She and Seth passed it back and forth, washing the mushrooms down with more wine.
“Okay,” Jenny said. “Now we wait. Who wants to go to the beach?”
They walked from the lighted campground out to the endless darkness of ocean, where they shivered in the icy wind off the water.