Apprehension had her in its grasp. She was suffering flashbacks and disturbing dreams and she had awoken unrested, as she had night upon night since they arrived. She could sense echoes of Krotona, as though she had stirred up the ghouls of the past in her very recollecting and she rued the day she had thought to write a book on the initiations of Christ. It was proving, on a personal level, emotionally turbulent, to say the least, and now the demons were stirring, dark forces swirling all around her.
The darkness that Alice had felt on the inner planes the first time they had visited Ascona, one that had taken outward form in the degeneracy she had witnessed at Monte Verità, had seeped into the grounds of Casa Gabriella like a foul mist. Although the magnificent purview from her bedroom
