“Let’s convene this gathering for a more appropriate time,” said Burton. “The Inspector will be along in the morning. I suggest we meet here then.”
“To do what?” asked Herbert.
“To draw out these Awakened once and for all,” Burton declared.
“Oh, there was one other thing,” said Herbert.
Burton arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“There was a large black stone in the center of the room. It looked incredibly ancient. They were lighting candles they had placed around it.”
“A stone?” said Burton. “I wonder where they got it, and what use they have for it. Whatever it is, I don’t like it. Meet me here tomorrow morning.”
After seeing Challenger and the Time Traveler off, Burton trudged back upstairs to his bedroom, though sleep did not return to him for another hour. He kept thinking about his friend Swinburne, and what else might be lurking in the shadows along Gloucester Place, watching him through his bedroom window with myriad eyes.
11. The Strange Device
Burton, Challenger, and Herbert told Inspector Abberline what had transpired last night over a hearty breakfast of eggs and sausage. Abberline took it all in stride. He dabbed at his mouth with a linen napkin and said, “I wish we could go and arrest the whole lot of them this instant, but my orders are to continue watching them to determine what their ultimate plan is.”
“Agreed,” said Burton, happy to know that his friend Swinburne would not be clapped in irons this day. “We still don’t know exactly who or what we are up against.”
“It has something to do with those ghastly diadems, said Herbert. “They certainly seem to give off some strange vibration. I left that meeting with a headache, didn’t you Professor?”
“I did indeed. Bloody hell. I thought it was just me. Though by the time we reached Gloucester Place it was gone, and I forgot to mention it.”
“Perhaps they focus what powers, if any, the Awakened already possess,” said Burton thoughtfully. He picked at his breakfast, and instead drank two cups of coffee in quick succession. “Perhaps they work to make the minds of the Theosophes more pliable, so that they can be manipulated.”
“Something else occurred to me last night,” said Burton after a long moment, “before I drifted off to sleep. Something else that might tie us all together.”
“Do tell,” said Abberline.
“Dreams,” said Burton. “Dreams and visions of other times and places. You have experienced them yourself, Challenger.”
The Professor seemed taken aback by the accusation, but he nodded slowly and uttered a deep sigh. Dabbing eggs from his beard, he said, “You are correct, Captain Burton. I thought I was going mad.”
“If you are mad, then we all are,” said the Time Traveler. “I too have suffered from strange dreams, around the time that the Awakened were first reported in the papers. I dreamed that my Time Machine carried me not into the past or future, but into alternate versions of our own present. Sidewise in Time, as it were, instead of forward or backward. It was very strange. It was our familiar London, but with sometimes remarkable, even ghastly differences.”
“I have experienced the same,” said Burton, “only much of it during waking hours.”
“Hallucinations?” asked Herbert.
Burton nodded. “That’s what I thought. At first. Now I’m not so sure. Remember the museum security guard’s account of the robbery, Frederick? It was exactly like that.”
“Blimey! You too? But you didn’t say anything.”
“I’m sorry, my friend. I needed to be sure I wasn’t going insane.”
“Well, while we’re all sharing I suppose I should fess up too,” said Abberline. “The other night I was out for a walk to clear my head. I turn a corner, and blimey, but I’m in a completely different locale. The buildings were of this strange pink brick, all glittery like, and it was broad daylight! And the people. You never seen such strange looking folks about. They wore these green cloaks, and had yellow, rheumy eyes.”
“What did you do?” asked Herbert.
“What did I do? Why I turned and got out of there. I kept moving until things were familiar and dark again. Then I headed straight home.”
“When was this?” asked Burton.
“A few nights ago.”
“You think it’s the Awakened playin’ with them queer stones of theirs?” asked the Inspector.
“No. While I believe the Wold-Newton stones may give the Awakened this power, I think this is something or someone else,” said Burton. “During one of my visions, a voice told me I am the Dream Key, whatever the bloody hell that is. It holds some special significance, but I don’t know why. I was shown things. Different versions of myself. In one I wore an eye patch and commanded the Nautilus. We were at war with the Deep Ones, and losing. In another the Nautilus was attached to a huge canvas gasbag, like a dirigible, and we were flying over a vast desert, chasing a black pyramid that rose from the sand.”
“Bloody hell!” Challenger swore.
“What do you think is happening, Captain?” asked Abberline. “I’m used to rounding up cutpurses. This is too much for an old copper like me.”
“I think someone is trying to communicate with us,” said Burton. “I think someone, or something, is trying to help us.”
“That would be a refreshing change if true,” said Challenger. “But for now we have no idea what this friendly force might be. But I think I know a method I can use to find out.”
“Let’s get started then,” said Herbert.
“First we need to learn more about what the Awakened are up to. Though we must be careful. They have shoggoths protecting them and watching us.”
Burton quickly explained to Abberline the events of the previous evening. The policeman’s face turned the color of milk. “I need to inform Mr. Holmes.”
“You do that,” said Burton. “The rest of us are going to trail Swinburne and Goforth again. Professor, I need you to be our guard against the shoggoths. Can you do that?”
Challenger grinned. “It would be my honor and my pleasure, Captain.”
An hour and a half later, Burton and Herbert were in heavy disguise, standing out front of Swinburne’s home at 7 Chester Street, Grosvenor Place. Challenger was half a block away in a heavy coat large enough to conceal his shoggoth gun. No more police had been assigned to track the poet’s movements since the last one had disappeared, and Burton was wary of any shoggoths that might be lurking about standing guard. Around nine o’clock Swinburne—or rather, the entity wearing his skin like a suit of clothes—exited the home and walked up the street toward Hyde Park, whistling an ethereal tune. He met up with Goforth in front of the entrance to Hyde Park, and the two hailed a hansom. Burton hailed another one, and he, Herbert and Challenger bade the driver follow the carriage for several miles before it stopped and deposited Swinburne and Goforth off at a familiar street.
“They’re returning to the watchmaker’s shop,” Burton said after he paid the fare and they alighted from the cab. “Let’s go. Keep your distance, but don’t lose sight of them.”
Sure enough, just as Burton had predicted, they went down the narrow maze of side streets to the watch and clock shop Burton had watched them enter before he had been waylaid by the shoggoth. Burton looked about fearfully for any signs of another of the foul creatures, but none presented itself. At any rate, they had the protection of Challenger’s shoggoth gun this time. Perhaps the Professor’s presence was keeping them at bay.
Burton and Herbert pretended to be interested in watching the candle maker practice his art through the window of his shop while Swinburne and Goforth conducted their business in the clock shop. When they exited, Swinburne held the door open for Goforth, who was carrying something covered in a piece of oilcloth. It was small but heavy, judging by the way Goforth hefted it in both hands. Burton and Herbert stayed where they were until Swinburne and Goforth passed, oblivious to their presence and chattering on in that alien tongue of theirs.