cb.coldheart canyon-第45部分

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　 〃They're　downstairs；〃　Zeffer　said；　his　voice　tinged　with　superstitious　awe。　〃Todd　and　Katya。　They've　gone　downstairs。〃
　 〃What　are　they　doing　there？〃
　 〃You　don't　want　to　know；〃　Zeffer　said　hurriedly。　〃Please。　I　beg　you。　Let's　just　go。〃
　 The　windows　were　shaking　with　mounting　violence；　the　boards　creaked　beneath　their　feet。　It　was　as　though　the　entire　structure　of　the　house　was　protesting　about　whatever　was　happening　in　its　midst。
　 Tammy　went　to　the　kitchen　sink；　ran　some　cold　water；　and　washed　the　food　from　around　her　mouth。　Then　she　skirted　around　Zeffer　and　headed　to　the　door　that　led　to　the　turret　and　the　staircase。
　 〃Wrong　direction；〃　Zeffer　said。　He　pointed　to　the　other　door。　〃That's　the　safest　way　out。〃
　 〃If　Todd's　down　there；　then　that's　the　way　I　want　to　go；〃　Tammy　said。
　 As　she　spoke　she　felt　a　blast　of　chilly　air　ing　up　from　below。　It　smelled　nothing　like　the　rest　of　the　house；　nor　of　the　gardens　outside。　Something　about　it　made　the　small　hairs　at　her　nape　prickle。
　 She　looked　back　down　at　Zeffer；　with　a　question　on　her　face。
　 〃I　think　I　need　to　tell　you　what's　down　there　before　you　take　one　more　step；〃　he　said。
　
　 Outside；　the　spirits　of　the　dead　waited　and　listened。　They　had　heard　the　door　that　led　into　the　Chamber　of　the　Hunt　opened；　they　knew　some　lucky　fool　was　about　to　step　into　the　Devil's　Country。　If　they　could　have　stormed　the　house　and　slipped　through　the　door　ahead　of　him；　they　would　have　gladly　done　so；　at　any　price。　But　Katya　had　been　too　clever。　She　had　put　up　defenses　against　such　a　siege：　five　icons　beaten　into　the　threshold　of　each　of　the　doors　that　would　drive　a　dead　soul　to　oblivion　if　they　attempted　to　cross。　They　had　no　choice；　therefore；　but　to　keep　a　respectful　distance；　hoping　that　some　day　the　icons　would　lose　their　terrible　potency；　or　that　Katya　would　simply　declare　an　amnesty　upon　her　guests　and　tear　the　icons　out　of　the　thresholds；　allowing　her　sometime　lovers　and　friends　back　inside。
　 Meanwhile；　they　waited；　and　listened；　and　remembered　what　it　had　been　like　for　them　in　the　old　days；　when　they'd　been　able　to　go　back　and　forth　into　the　house　at　will。　It　had　been　bliss；　back　then：　all　you　had　to　do　was　step　into　the　Devil's　Country　and　you　could　shed　your　old　skin　like　a　snake。　They'd　e　back　to　the　chamber　over　and　over；　so　as　to　restore　their　failing　glamour；　and　it　had　dutifully　soothed　away　their　imperfections；　made　their　limbs　sleek　and　their　eyes　gleam。

　 All　this　was　kept　secret　from　the　studio　bosses；　of　course；　and　when　on　occasion　a　Goldwyn　or　a　Thalberg　did　find　out　Katya　made　sure　they　was　intimidated　into　silence。　Nobody　talked　about　what　went　on　in　Coldheart　Canyon；　even　to　others　that　they　might　have　seen　there。　The　stars　went　on　about　their　public　lives　while　in　secret　they　took　themselves　up　to　Coldheart　Canyon　every　weekend；　and　having　smoked　a　little　marijuana　or　opium；　went　to　look　at　the　Hunt；　knowing　that　they　would　emerge　rejuvenated。
　 There　was　a　brief　Golden　Age；　when　the　royalty　of　America　lived　a　life　of　near…perfection；　sitting　in　their　palaces　dreaming　of　immortality。　And　why　not？　It　seemed　they　had　found　the　means　to　renew　their　beauty　whenever　it　grew　a　little　tired。　So　what　if　they　had　to　dabble　in　the　supernatural　for　their　fix　of　perfection；　it　was　worth　the　risk。
　 Then…but　inexorably…the　Golden　Age　began　to　take　its　toll：　the　lines　they'd　driven　off　their　faces　began　to　creep　back　again；　deeper　than　ever；　their　eye…sight　started　to　fail。　Back　they　went　into　the　Devil's　Country；　desperate　for　its　hearing　power；　but　the　claim　of　time　could　not　be　arrested。
　 Terrible　stories　started　to　circulate　amongst　the　lords　of　Tinseltown；　nightmare　stories。　Somebody　had　woken　up　blind　in　the　middle　of　the　night；　it　was　said；　somebody　else　had　withered　before　her　lover's　appalled　eyes。　Fear　gripped　the　Golden　People；　and　anger　too。　They　blamed　Katya　for　introducing　them　to　this　ungodly　panacea；　and　demanded　that　she　give　them　constant　access　to　the　house　and　the　Hunt。　She；　of　course；　refused。　This　quickly　led　to　some　ugly　scenes：　people　started　appearing　at　the　house　in　the　Canyon　in　desperate　states　of　need；　beating　at　the　door　to　be　let　in。
　 Katya　hardened　her　cold　heart　against　them；　however。　Realizing　she　would　soon　be　under　siege；　she　hired　men　to　guard　the　house　night　and　day。　For　several　months；　through　the　spring　and　summer　of　1926；　she　and　Zeffer　lived　in　near　isolation；　ignoring　the　entreaties　of　her　friends　who　came　（often　with　magnificent　gifts）　begging　for　an　audience　with　her；　and　for　a　chance　to　see　the　Devil's　Country。　She　refused　all　but　a　very　few。
　 In　fact　nobody　truly　understood　what　was　happening　in　the　bowels　of　the　house。　Why　should　they？　They　were　dealing　in　mysteries　even　old　Father　Sandru；　who　had　sold　Zeffer　the　piece；　did　not　understand。　But　their　eager　flesh　had　discovered　what　the　dry　intellect　of　metaphysicians　had　not。　Like　opium　addicts　denied　their　fix　they　went　blindly　after　the　thing　that　would　heal　their　pain；　without　needing　to　understand　the　pharmacology　that　had　driven　them　to　such　desperation。
　 For　a　time　they　had　been　happy　in　the　Canyon；　they　remembered；　happy　in　Katya's　house；　happy　looking　at　the　pictures　of　the　Hunt　on　the　tiled　walls；　which　had　moved　so　curiously　before　their　astonished　eyes。　So　it　followed…didn't　it？…that　if　they　kept　returning　to　the　Canyon；　and　into　that　strange　country　of　tile　and　illusion　they　would　be　happy　and　healthy　again。　But　Katya　wouldn't　let　them；　she　was　leaving　them　to　suffer；　denied　the　only　thing　they　wanted。
　 Of　course　Katya　was　no　more　knowledgeable　about　the　alchemy　at　work　in　her　dream　palace　than　those　in　her　doomed　circle。　She　knew　that　the　gift　of　healing　and　the　fever　of　need　that　followed　was　all　brought　about　by　being　in　the　Devil's　Country；　but　how　it　worked；　or　how　long　it　would　operate　before　its　engines　were　exhausted；　she　had　no　idea。　She　only　knew　that　she　felt　possessive　of　the　room。　It　was　hers　to　give　and　take　away；　as　her　will　desired。
　 Needless　to　say；　the　more　tearful　visitors　she　had　at　her　gates；　the　more　letters　she　received　（and　the　more　chaotic　the　tone　of　those　letters）　the　less　inclined　she　was　to　invite　in　those　who'd　written　them；　partly　because　she　was　afraid　of　the　depth　of　addiction　she　had　unleashed　in　these　people；　partly　because　she　was　anxious　that　the　power　of　the　Devil's　Country　might　not　be　limitless；　and　she　was　not　about　to　be　profligate　with　a　power　that　she　needed　as　much　as　they。
　 There　might　e　a　time；　she　supposed；　when　she　would　need　the　healing　effects　of　the　house　purely　for　herself；　and　when　that　time　came　she'd　be　covetous　of　every　wasted　jot　of　it。　This　wasn't　something　she　could　afford　to　be　generous　with；　not　any　longer。　It　was　her　life　she　was　playing　with　here；　her　life　everlasting。　She　needed　to　preserve　the　power　she　had　locked　away　below　ground；　for　fear　one　day　its　sum　was　the　difference　between　life　and　death。
　
　 And　then…as　though　things　were　not　terrible　enough…they　had　suddenly　got　worse。
　
　 It　began　on　Monday；　the　23rd　of　August；　1926；　with　the　sudden　death　of　Rudy　Valentino。
　 Only　three　weeks　before　he　had　managed　to　get　past　the　guards　in　Coldheart　Canyon　（like　one　of　the　heroes　he'd　so　often　played；　scaling　walls　to　get　to　his　beloved）　and　had　pleaded　with　Katya　to　let　him　stay　with　her。　He　didn't　feel　good；　he　told　her；　he　needed　to　stay　here　in　the　Canyon；　where　he'd　spent　so　many　happy　times；　and　recuperate。　She　told　him　no。　He　became　aggressive；　told　her…half　in　Italian；　half　in　English…that　she　was　a　selfish　bitch。　Wasn't　it　time　she　remembered　where　she　came　from？　he　said。　She　was　just　a　peasant　at　heart；　like　him。　Just　because　she　acted　like　a　queen　didn't　make　her　one；　to　which　she'd　snappily　replied　that　the　same　could　not　be　said　for　him。　He'd　slapped　her　for　that　remark。　She'd　slapped　him　back；　twice　as　hard。
　 Always　prone　to　sudden　emotional　swings；　Valentino　had　promptly　started　to　bawl　like　a　baby；　interspersing　his　sobs　with　demands　that　she　please　God　have　mercy　on　him。
　 〃I'm　dying！〃　he　said；　thumping　his　gut　with　his　fist。　〃I　feel　it　in　here！〃
　 She　let　him　weep　until　the　carpet　was　damp。　Then　she　had　had　him　removed　from　the　house　by　two　of　her　hired　heavies；　and　tossed　into　the　street。
　 It　had　seemed　like　typical　Rudy　melodrama　at　the　time：　I'm　dying；　I'm　dying。　But　this　time　he'd　known　his　own　body　better　than　she'd　given　him　credit　for。　He　was　the　first　to　pay　the　ultimate　price　for　visiting　the　Devil's　Country。　Three　weeks　after　that　tearful　conversation　he　was　dead。
　 The　hoopla　over　Valentino's　sudden　demise　hid　from　view　a　series　of　smaller　incidents　that　were　nevertheless　all　part　of　the　same　escalating　tragedy。　A　minor　starlet　called　Miriam　Acker　died　two　days　after　Rudy；　of　what　was　reported　to　be　pneumonia。　She　had　been　a　visitor　to　the　Canyon　on　several　occasions；　usually　in　the　pany　of　Ramon　Navarro。　Pola　Negri…another　visitor　to　the　Canyon…fell　gravely　ill　a　week　later；　and　for　several　days　hovered　on　the　brink　of　death。　Her　frailty　was　attributed　to　grief　at　the　passing　of　Valentino；　with　whom　she　claimed　to　have　had　a　passionate　affair；　but　the　truth　was　far　less　glamorous。　She　too　had　fallen　under　the　spell　of　the　Hunt；　and　now；　though　she　denied　it；　was　sickening。
　 In　fact　death　took　an　unmonly　large　number　of　Hollywood's　luminaries　in　the　next　few　months。　And　for　every　one　who　died　there　were　ten　or　twenty　who　got　sick；　and　managed　to　recover；　though　none　were　ever　possessed　of　their　full　strength；　or　flawless　beauty；　again。　The　'coincidence'　was　not　lost　on　either　the　fans　or　the　journalists。　〃A　harvest　of　death　is　sweeping　Hollywood；〃　Film　Photoplay　morbidly　announced；　〃as　star　after　star　follows　the　greatest　star　of　all；　Rudolph　Valentino；　to　the　grave。〃
　 The　idea　that　there　was　some　kind　of　plague　abroad　caught　the　public's　imagination　and　was　fed　voraciously　by　those　who'd　predicted　for　reasons　of　their　own　that　judgment　would　eventually　fall　on　Tinseltown。　Preachers　who'd　fulminated　against　the　sinners　of　the　New　Sodom　were　now　quick　to　point　out　the　evidence　in　support　of　their　grim　sermons。　And　the　public；　who'd　a　decade　before　taken　pleasure　in　crowning　actors　as　the　new　Royalty　of　America　were　now　just　as　entertained　by　the　spectacle　of　their　fall　from　grace。　They　were　fakes　and　foreigners　anyway；　it　was　widely　opined；　no　wonder　they　were　falling　like　flies；　they'd　e　here　like　plague…rats　in　the　first　place。
　 Hollywood　was　going　to　Hell　in　a　hand…cart；　and　it　didn't　matter　how　rich　or　beautiful　you　were；　there　was　no　escaping　the　cost　of　the　high　life。
　
　 Up　in　the　Canyon；　Katya　dared　believe　she　was　safe：　she'd　added　three　German　Shepherd　dogs　to　the　retinue　guarding　her；　and　she　had　men　patrolling　the　ridges　and　the　roads　that　led　to　the　Canyon　night　and　day。　It　was　such　a　strange　time。　The　whole　munity　was　unsettled。　There　was　talk　of　lights　being　seen　in　the　sky；　especially　in　the　vicinity　of　death…sites。　A　number　of　small　cults　came　into　being；　all　with　their　own　theories　of　what　was　happening。　The　most　extreme　interpreted　these　lights　as　warnings　from　God：　the　end　of　the　world　was　imminent；　their　leaders　announced；　and　people　should　prepare　themselves　for　the　Apocalypse。　Others　interpr