“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sarah interrupted. Valerie’s presence was rubbing at her tender nerves. She moved away from her, but Valerie came after, once again standing too close, pressuring her.
“Spells and magic circles won’t work,” Sarah said. “Jade isn’t a demon, and it doesn’t make any sense to act as if he were. That sort of thing is just a joke to him.”
“What do you mean? What do you know?”
Where was Jade, Sarah wondered. What was he waiting for? When would he strike? She decided to tell Valerie the truth. Jade could try to stop her if he wanted.
“He’s a man,” she said. “Or at least he was. He was a magician who didn’t die when his human body did, because he had managed to imprint a part of his personality into a carved stone. And as long as it survives, he survives. So the reason we can’t kill him by killing the cat or the toad or whatever animal he’s lodged in is that another part of him, his essence, is still preserved in a piece of jade.”
“Jade,” said Valerie, wonderingly. “But . . . I called him up, out of nothing. I recited an invocation to spirits, and he came. He must be a spirit.”
“Oh, he’s a spirit, but not the sort he made you think he was. And you didn’t call him up out of nothing . . . he was using you, getting you to focus your will by reciting spells and all that nonsense. Where do you suppose you first got the idea of using witchcraft?”
Valerie shook her head dumbly. “It was . . . after I moved into this house.”
“That’s right. And it was Jade who put that idea into your head. You must have been especially susceptible . . . and he was trapped, and he needed someone to help him escape. You were the focus for his powers.”
“But how do you know this? Did Jade tell you? Why should you believe what he says?” Suddenly her face sharpened, like that of a dog who has caught a scent. “You found it. You found that piece of jade. Where is it?”
Sarah shook her head swiftly, feeling it imperative not to let Valerie know. “No. I didn’t.”
But Valerie had pushed past Sarah into the next room, where the shattered wall told a story. “Where is it?” she asked again.
Sarah hurried after, to the jade figure where it lay among the rubble. She looked at it, afraid to touch it, afraid of bringing it to life again.
“That?” Valerie leaned down, reaching for it, and Sarah had to swoop and scrabble to get there first. Her fingers closed around the slightly sticky stone and she ground her teeth, repressing a shudder. At least she had rescued it from Valerie.
When she straightened up, she saw that Valerie was staring at her, a frightened look on her face. “You’re his now,” Valerie said in a low voice.
Sarah shook her head in a hard, nervous negation. Her body prickled with goosebumps; for a moment she seemed to feel invisible hands stroking her.
Panic flared in Valerie’s eyes and she backed away. Then, with an obvious effort of will, she stopped. “You tried to help me,” she said. “I didn’t think there was any hope, and I didn’t care. But you did. You wanted to fight, for me as well as for yourself. And . . . now it’s not fair if I’m free but Jade’s got you.”
For the first time Sarah felt she was seeing the person Valerie had been once, before the madness and the slavery inflicted by Jade. The emotion in Valerie’s voice reached her, seemed to cut through the fog in her mind. She shook her head. “No, Jade hasn’t got me,” she said. And, although it was an effort, she managed to laugh. “In fact, you might say that it’s the other way around. I’ve got Jade.”
She extended her hand and opened the fingers slowly to reveal the small, carved figure. Before she could say or do anything else, Valerie had snatched up the little object.
Then, with a cry of fear, Valerie flung it away from her. She was trembling violently. “It is,” she whispered, her terror-stricken eyes fastening on Sarah’s face. “It is Jade—I could feel him! Oh, what are we going to do?”
“It’s his immortality,” Sarah explained. “As long as it exists, he can’t die. It’s what allows him to go from body to body. It’s why killing the bodies doesn’t kill him. If we destroyed the statue—”
“He’d die,” Valerie said, her voice soft and gloating. “Oh, yes.” She looked around the room. “What can we use? We’ll smash it to bits.”
But Sarah was having second thoughts. “Wait a minute. What if we’re wrong? What if by smashing the thing we actually set Jade free, release his power?”
Valerie considered this, then shook her head. “Can’t be. If that was what he wanted, he would have gotten me or you to smash it long ago. It’s been hidden away just to keep him safe.”
Yes, of course. And Jade wouldn’t have tried so hard to keep her from smashing it when she found it. Another sensual memory made her shiver. Valerie was right, she told herself. The statue must be destroyed.
But still she was reluctant. She saw Valerie pick the hammer off the floor and, feeling drawn against her will, Sarah crossed the room and picked up the carved figure.
Holding it made her feel better, stronger, and more secure. Power throbbed within the stone, but it was a muted, quiescent power, no threat to her. Jade was waiting. For what?
“Sarah?”
Sarah turned to face Valerie. The hand holding the figure pulled it close to her breast, protectively.
“Let’s not do anything too quickly,” Sarah said. “There might be a way we could use this power for ourselves. And we can’t afford to make any mistakes. After all, even if the stone is destroyed, Jade will go on existing in some animal body somewhere, and it could be difficult to find.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” Valerie said. “Anyway, how much harm can one little rat do? Rats don’t live very long, do they? Wherever else Jade is now, his real power is in that stone, that thing you’re holding.”
Sarah stood still holding the statue against her breast, trying to put her uneasiness, her reason for hesitating into words that would convince Valerie.
“Give it to me,” Valerie said. She stared at Sarah, a trace of the old madness in her eyes. “Oh, I see. You don’t want to destroy him at all, do you? You’ve made some kind of deal with him. What did he promise you? It’s all lies, you know. You won’t get anything from him—you’re better off without him—I know.”
“Of course I haven’t made any deal,” Sarah said firmly. “I just . . . don’t think we should do anything rash. We know so little about Jade, after all.”
But Valerie went on staring. “No,” she muttered. “Not a deal, but something else, something else . . . You’re different. It wasn’t like it was for me, was it, for you? You want Jade.”
It was true. Once again Sarah felt her body charged with desire, and she knew who could satisfy it. The thing in her hand changed: she held Jade’s power, Jade’s immortal soul, Jade’s sex throbbing against her. And she wanted to feel it inside her again. Sarah started to smile at the delicious memories which filled her mind, and then she saw the uncomprehending horror on Valerie’s face. That look cut right through her moody, sensual daze and she realized what was happening to her.
“No,” Sarah said hoarsely as disgust and self-hatred rose up in her. She opened her numbed fingers, letting the jade figure drop away from her. Pleasure was just another trap, far more dangerous than pain. But she could still think, she could still make decisions, no matter what her flesh wanted. She turned her self-loathing instead against Jade. It was Jade she hated, and always had. Jade was her enemy. She made the decision to save herself.
“Give me the hammer,” she said to Valerie. “I won’t be his slave.”
A low, eerie howl close by froze them both.