As she dashed from the chamber, she ran into Father who grabbed her arm to keep from falling.  Wild eyed, she turned on him.

“What is it, Catherine?”

“Narcissa!” she cried.  “I need to get to Narcissa!”

“But why?”

“Vincent needs me and she is the only one who can help.” She tore lose from his grasp and pelted down the tunnel.

Vincent?  Vincent was dead.  Had her grief unhinged her mind?  Was her apparent acceptance of his death merely a facade?  “Catherine!  Wait!  You’ll get lost.”

“No,” she shouted over her shoulder, “this is meant to be.”  She disappeared around a corner as Mouse came skittering up: he never, ever dawdled.

Father had never been so glad to see Mouse as he was at this time.  “Oh good, Mouse,” he acknowledged.  Taken by surprise, Mouse looked around to see whom Father was talking to.  “Mouse!”  Father raised his voice to get Mouse’s attention.  “Catherine has gone to Narcissa.  Follow her and make sure she doesn’t get lost.”

“Follow Catherine.  No problem.”  Greatly relieved that for once he wasn’t in Father’s bad graces, he bolted down the tunnel hot on Catherine’s trail.

                                 ****************
“Help me, please,” Catherine pleaded as she burst into Narcissa’s chamber.  “I can’t shake the feeling that Vincent’s in danger.  He’s calling to me.  He needs me.”

Calmly, Narcissa turned to her.  “Yes, child, Vincent’s journey is almost over.  You are needed to help him through the final darkness.”

“But Vincent’s dead,” Catherine cried.

“He will die only if you fail him.”

Pausing to catch her breath, she replied, “I won’t fail him.”  Hope flared in her breast.  Could it be?  Could the old witch woman’s magic bring him back?

“He has called to you.”  Narcissa stated, starring at her through her sightless eyes.  Catherine had the feeling that she was peering into her soul.

“Yes.”

With an abrupt nod, she said, “He needs your courage and love.”
“He has always had them.  What can I do?”

The old sorceress became utterly still and transfixed her with a strange look, almost a look of fear.  “Are you willing to face your darkest fears and greatest danger?”

“For Vincent I would face the devil himself.”

“You will do just that.”

“What do you mean?”    She took a deep breath to quell the thrill of fear that flowed through her.

Narcissa looked at her with compassion.  “Vincent is dead but still alive.  There is no time for explanations.  Just know that it is true.  He is on a dreadful and dangerous journey in the land between life and death.  The evil one is trying one last time to kill his soul.”

“Paracelsus!” Catherine gasped.

“Yes.  Vincent needs your love and courage to defeat the evil one.”  Taking a flask from a shelf, she held it out to the distraught young woman.  “You must drink this potion.  It will help you to reach Vincent before it is too late.”

“You mean Paracelsus could win this time,” she asked horrified, as she took the flask.

“Vincent has fought long and hard in that other world, yet each time he kills the darkness grows stronger.  The evil one will push him over the edge into permanent darkness and madness unless you are there to strengthen his heart.”

“All I have to do is drink this?”  She glanced at the flask in her hand then looked back at the old woman.  “And I will be where Vincent is?”

“Yes, your spirit will leave your body and find his spirit.  But remember this, you must show no fear of him, you must be strong and believe in your love, and you must not allow him to reach Paracelsus.  If he kills the evil one, he will never be able to come back with you.  He will be truly lost as you will be also.  But we must hurry; time is short.  Come with me to the catacombs.  It is best that you are as close to him as possible.”  Narcissa took Catherine by the arm and hurried her from the chamber.

Beside Vincent’s tomb, Catherine laid down on the stony floor and drank the potion.  As she drifted into the darkness that held her beloved Vincent, she was suddenly apprehensive.  Could Narcissa be in league with Para  . . . ? . . . . . No, of course n  . . .

                                 ****************

She awoke in a scene of carnage.  Dead men littered the floor and the entrances to the huge cavern she found herself in.  At the far end on a raised stone bench stood Paracelsus.  Beneath him were Vincent and an older man whom she recognized as Chang Yo Li.  Chang was taunting Vincent, screaming and shouting at him.  She couldn’t hear what was being said, but she could see that Vincent was becoming ever more agitated.  Finally, he threw his head back, let out a heartrending roar, and lashed out at Chang cleanly slitting his throat.  Paracelsus was beside himself with elation.  Vincent’s shoulders slumped as he hung his head in shame.  Then Paracelsus began to goad him again, enjoying every moment of it.  She could see the darkness begin to engulf the man she loved as he raised his head, and with menace in every line of his body, advance on his tormentor.  Vincent must not reach him.  She must stop him.

Running toward Vincent, she caught Paracelsus’ attention.  “Ah, Vincent, our final player is here.  I knew she’d come.  You’re both such fools.”

“Vincent, I’m here.  It’s Catherine,” she called to him.  He stopped and turned to face her.  His eyes were dark and wild with the blood rage that flowed through him.  She held out her arms to him.  “Come back to me, my love.”

He started toward her but stopped when the silken smooth voice of Paracelsus hissed, “Look at her.  Look closely.  That’s not Catherine, that’s a demon.” If he could get Vincent to kill the one most dear to him that would be the final blow, and he would descend into the cold, mad darkness that Paracelsus dwelt in.  “Destroy it,” he shouted.

Growling low in his throat, the other half of her soul advanced upon Catherine.  She wasn’t afraid of him.  With a bone deep conviction, she knew he would never hurt her and stood her ground.  “It’s me, Vincent.  Catherine.  You know it’s me.  I’m here to help you fight him.”  He stopped, looking at her closely.  “Look into your heart and know that.  Know the truth.”  Instead of retreating, she walked up to him, flinging her arms around his waist, holding him closely to her.

“Catherine, is it you?  Is it really you?” he whispered, as she laid her head on his breast.  “Oh, my love.”

“Kill her, kill her.  Don’t listen to her,” Paracelsus shouted.

“Yes, love, it’s really me.”  She stepped back and said with determination, “Together we can overcome anything.  But there can be no doubts, no hesitation.  Do you believe in me?”

“Yes,” he gazed at her as a drowning man looks at the distant shore.

“Implicitly?”  She grasped his arms tightly.

“Yes!”  He took her arms in his great hands and pulled her to him.

“Then together we are unbeatable.”
He sighed shakily.  The madman on the raised stone bench was quietly raging.  This was not going well at all.  “Vincent!  She’s leading you on.  As soon as you let her in, she will take your soul,” he raged.

Vincent raised his head, peace beginning to show in his eyes.  “How can she take that which has already been given.  No, this is Catherine.  I know it.”

A strange thing was happening.  As Vincent grew stronger, the bodies lying all around began to slowly disappear.  And soon only the Evil, Catherine, and Vincent remained.

Vincent took a step toward Paracelsus who immediately shrank back.

“Have no fear, John Pater. I will not harm you.  Your death was the one death that haunted me.”  He raised his hands with their deadly nails and looked at them sadly.  “You were unarmed, yet I killed you anyway.  I know now you were armed with the deadliest weapons of all--words.  Your hatred fueled your words, and they almost destroyed me but hatred cannot stand against love.  You cannot stand against us.”  He placed an arm around Catherine’s shoulders and pulled her close.

“You have lost, Paracelsus.  You will always lose.  Love is stronger than hatred.  There is no place for you in our world or here,” Catherine said calmly.

Raging, Paracelsus was fading from sight at her last words.  She turned to the free soul beside her and rested her head against his heart.  Softly, she began to cry, the relief so powerful she felt her legs would give out on her.  Holding her tightly against him, he wearily laid his head on hers.  “You saved my life, Catherine,” he murmured, “You saved my soul.  The darkness was growing stronger minute by minute.”

“I was so frightened when I saw you standing before him.  I was afraid I was too late.”

“I’ve never needed your strength more than I did at that moment.  When I saw you, I started to live again.”

“You are free of him at last and our world is safe again.”

“Yes, you saved my world as well.”

“No, Vincent, we did it together.  Neither one of us could have done it alone.”

He nodded.  “How did you get here?”

“Narcissa.”

“Ah.  What now?  Do we remain here forever?”
“As long as it’s with you.”

“No, I want to go home.  Narcissa said nothing about how to get back?”

“We were too rushed to talk much.  Time was short.  We can only rely on your sense of direction.  You never got lost in the tunnels.”

“No, but I have never been here before.  This is different.  Still I feel a pull in that direction.”  He pointed off to the right at a dark tunnel entrance.

They entered hand-in-hand.  It was very dark and she relied on him to guide her.  As they hiked through the tunnel, it began to lighten.  The farther they went, the brighter it became.  Turning a corner they entered the catacombs. This was where the two worlds met.  On entering, they found Narcissa kneeling over Catherine’s still body, holding her hand.  Sensing their presence, she said, “Hurry, there is not much time left.”

Catherine stood on tiptoe to gently kiss him.  “I’ll see you on the other side, my love.”  She watched him disappear into the tomb.

She walked over to her inert body and looked down at it.  So, this was how Vincent’s death had affected her.  She looked terrible--wan, haggard, strained with lines in her face that had not been there before.

“Come back, Catherine, we must release Vincent soon or he will surely die,” Narcissa begged the spirit of Vincent’s love.

Quickly, Catherine flowed back into her body.  Her eyes fluttered then opened, she coughed, took a shuddering breath, and tried to sit up.  Narcissa helped her to her feet.

As soon as she was strong enough, they began to break into the tomb.  It was hard, fingernail breaking work but soon there was a small hole in the top of the sarcophagus.  It wasn’t large enough and Catherine was getting frantic.  The two of them were not enough.  They needed help.  She could hear Vincent’s call.

“Catherine, what do you think you’re doing?  Have you lost your mind?”  Father burst into the cavern with Mouse, Pascal, and a few others at his heels.  Mouse had dutifully carried out his task and had told Father where Catherine and Narcissa were.  Fixing Narcissa with a cold stare he said, “I blame you for this, Narcissa.”

“Father, help us, please.  Vincent is alive.  I know it.  That’s what the dreams meant.”  She jumped up and ran to him.  Grabbing him by the hands, she attempted to pull him to the tomb.  He pulled back.  “Oh please, we don’t have much time.”

Mouse sprang forward.  He tore at the masonry with his bare hands.  “Mouse will save Vincent.”
Pascal was next beside him.  The hole was growing larger as the others began to tear at it.  Relenting, Father sent for picks, shovels, and levers.  Soon they were able to see Vincent’s body.

“Dear god,” Father gasped, “his body . . . has moved!”  The rescuers redoubled their efforts.  At last, Vincent was freed.  Surrounded by broken pieces of masonry, his chest unmoving, Vincent was as still as death.

Catherine crawled into the tomb and knelt beside her love.  “Vincent, come back.  I’m here.  Vincent!”  She shook him.  “We can’t be too late.  I won’t let it be.  I can’t live without you.  Not again.”  She bent and kissed him with all the love she had for him.

His hand grasped her arm; he took a deep, trembling breath.  “Catherine?  Did we make it back?”

“Yes, oh yes,” she held him to her breast, her face radiant with joy.