Graham Masterton - The Manitou

"To quote a hackneyed line from old cowboy films, Dr. Hughes, this is heap powerful medicine. I've seen a lot of weird things — but this…"

"Come on," said Jack, "let's get out of here."

We went back to his office and sat down. Singing Rock pulled a tissue from the box on Jack Hughes' desk and carefully mopped his forehead.

"Well," said Jack. "What's our plan of action?"

"The first thing I'd say is that we don't have long," said Singing Rock. "The way that manitou's growing, we'll need to be ready by tomorrow at the latest. What I'll have to do is mark out a magic circle around the bed, so that when the medicine man comes out, he can't cross it. That will hold him long enough to give me time to try and subjugate him with my own medicines. At least, I hope it will. It's quite possible that he's powerful enough to cross any magic circle I'm able to draw. I just don't know — and I won't know — until he actually appears. It depends on how much the X-rays have affected him. The original spell, the spell which he used to have himself reborn, is just as strong as he was able to make it in 1650. But any new spells he tries to cast may be hampered by what you've done to him. On the other hand, they may not. I can't count on it. They may have made him much more vengeful, and his magic more evil."

Jack Hughes sighed. "You don't sound very hopeful."

"How can I be?" said Singing Rock. "This is strictly David and Goliath. If I can hit him with a stone from my puny slingshot, I may be lucky and knock him out. But if I miss, then he's going to flatten me."

"Is there anything you need?" I asked him. "Any occult aids?"

Singing Rock shook his head. "I brought all my goodies with me. If we can fetch my small suitcase out of your car, Harry, I could start right away by drawing the medicine circle. That will give us some protection, at least."

Dr. Hughes picked up the phone and asked for a porter. When the man arrived, he sent him down to my car in the basement, with instructions to collect Singing Rock's case.

"Whatever you do," said Singing Rock, "you mustn't disturb Karen Tandy's body when the medicine man has left her. It mustn't be touched under any circumstances. If you disturb it even slightly, then the chances of her manitou being able to return to it and being revitalized will be practically nil."

"Supposing the medicine man disturbs it himself…" I asked.

Singing Rock looked unhappy. "If that happens, then we're probably wasting our time."

Jack Hughes said: "What I don't understand is why we can't just shoot him. He's a human being; after all, with normal flesh and blood."

"That would defeat everything we've tried to do," said Singing Rock. "If you shoot him, his spirits will go to what the Indians used to call the Happy Hunting Grounds. His spirit, and Karen Tandy's spirit, and any other spirits he may have collected during his several lifetimes. If you kill him that way, then Karen Tandy will be gone for good. He possesses her manitou, and only he can release it. Voluntarily, or under duress."

"And you don't think there's any chance of him releasing it voluntarily…" asked Jack Hughes.

"Not a hope." said Singing Rock.

"And what do you think your chances are of being able to force it out of him?"

Singing Rock scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Three percent," he said. "That's if I'm lucky."

At that moment, the porter came up with the case. Singing Rock took it, laid it on Dr. Hughes' desk, and opened it. As far as I could see, it was crammed with old hair and bones and packets of powder.

"Okay," said the medicine man. "Everything's here. Let's go down and draw the circle."

We went downstairs again, and into Karen Tandy's private room. She was lying exactly as before, white-faced, with the swollen lump reaching almost down to her waist. Singing Rock didn't look at her, but busied himself taking powders and bones out of his case and laying them neatly on the floor.

"I want you to understand," he said, "that once I have drawn this circle it must not be touched or disturbed in any way. You can cross it, but you must be extremely careful not to smudge it or break it. If it's even slightly broken, then it's useless."

Dr. Hughes said: "Okay. I'll make sure that everyone who comes in here knows about that."

Singing Rock went down on his hands and knees, and poured a circular track of red powder from a paper packet all the way around the bed. Then, inside it, he poured a circular track of white powder. At regular intervals he laid down dry white human bones, and spoke a soft incantation over each of them. Then he laid a garland of human hair all around the circle — old scalps from his tribe's historic totem.

"Gitche Manitou, protect me," he prayed. "Gitche Manitou, hear me and protect me."

As he said these words, I felt a cold thrill slide down my back. Karen, on the bed, had opened one eye, and was staring fixedly across at Singing Rock with a quiet malevolence.

"Singing Rock," I said gently, and pointed.

Singing Rock turned, and saw the single hate-filled eye. He licked his lips nervously, and then spoke to Karen in a quiet, strained voice.

"Who are you?" he asked. "Where do you come from?"

There was silence at first, but then Karen Tandy whispered hoarsely: "I — am — much — mightier — than — you. Your — medicine — is — of — no — consequence — to — me. I — will — soon — slay — you — little — brother."

"What is your name?" said Singing Rock.

"My — name — is — Misquamacus — I — will — soon — slay — you — little — brother — from — the — plains."

Singing Rock stepped back nervously, staring at the single eye. Even when the eye dropped shut again, he was rubbing his hands in agitation against his surgical robe.

"What's the matter?" I asked him.

"It's Misquamacus, " he whispered, as though he were afraid of being overhead. "He's one of the most notorious and powerful medicine men of all Indian history."

"You've heard of him?"

"Anyone who knows anything about Indian magic has heard of him. Even the Sioux knew about him, way back before the white men came. He was considered to be the greatest of all medicine men, and he was in contact with manitous and demons that no other medicine man would dare to summon."

"What does that mean?" said Jack Hughes anxiously. "Does that mean you can't fight him?"

Singing Rock was sweating under his surgical face mask. "Oh, I can fight him, all right. But I don't give much for my chances of winning. Misquamacus was said to be able to control even the most ancient and wicked of Indian spirits. There were some manitous that were so old and evil that by the time the first white men arrived in America, they were only known in legend and stories by most tribes. But Misquamacus regularly called them for his own use. If he calls on them now, today, I just can't imagine what will happen."

"But what can a spirit do?" I asked him. "Can they actually hurt people who don't believe in them?"

"Of course," explained Singing Rock. "Just because you don't believe a tiger is going to maul you, that doesn't prevent it from doing so, does it? Once these manitous have been summoned into the physical world, they have physical powers and physical existence."

"Holy Christ," said Dr. Hughes.

Singing Rock sniffed. " He won't help you. These demons have nothing to do with Christianity at all. You can fight Christian demons with crucifixes and holy water, but these demons will just laugh at you."

"This circle," I said, pointing to the ring of powder and bones. "Do you think this will hold him?"

Singing Rock shook his head. "I don't think so. Not for more than a few minutes, anyway. It might just give me the time to work a couple of spells on him, something to hold him down for longer. But Misquamacus was one of the greatest of circle-markers himself He could draw circles that would hold back the most terrible spirits. This circle is the strongest one I'm capable of drawing, but he'll know how to break through that without any difficulty at all."