The Incantation Page #4

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I'm-- I'm grateful.

Do you seriously

trust this guy?

I thought there were

no guests allowed here.

We were not going to just

let him wander the countryside.

-Morning.

-And to you, young Jean.

Might I trouble you

for a dozen roses, ma'am?

I'm not sure which color.

It depends on the intent,

now, doesn't it?

A girl, is it?

You devil, you.

Then blood red it is.

Who's the lucky girl?

It's my right, you know,

as you won't be coming

around here no more.

No one can take your place,

Miss Montee.

She's American, Bellerose clan.

Rich? Or new royalty,

I should say.

You know what they say

about boyars and ancients.

I hope not dirty money.

What do you mean?

Jean-Pierre, don't be naive.

People disappearing,

rumblings of witchcraft.

No one will even go

to House Borley no more

-'cause of its--

- Come on. Wives' tales.

And like I said,

she's American.

I'll tell you what I know.

That fire weren't

no wives' tale,

and those people really died.

The whole incestuous lot

of them, save the Count.

And the only reason

he stuck around, they say,

is by selling his soul.

Come on, Miss Montee.

Whispers unbecoming of you.

Get out of here, you playboy,

before I steal you

right back from her.

And save them lips

for kissing

that sweet mother of yours,

not rich Americans.

What are you looking at?

You work for me,

remember that.

Lucy, thank God.

I'm so sorry.

For what?

About leaving you alone

last night.

-What's that supposed to mean?

-Nothing, I just...

That I can't take care

of myself?

Because I'm a little girl?

God.

Where do you park your ego

and that big white steed?

I just meant I was concerned.

-A stranger in a...

- How is he?

Who?

The guy, the accident.

He...

He didn't make it.

I...

Oh, my God,

I am going crazy here.

I'm hallucinating,

and I'm being chased

by an imaginary girl,

and-- and I'm pretty sure

that I've been drugged

and God knows what else.

And these two

are just icing on the cake.

Lucy, are you all right?

Should I bring you

to a doctor?

That's perfect.

She finally speaks her mind,

and she needs a doctor.

That is perfect.

I...

-Are you...

-Sh*t!

My purse, my stuff.

Lucy, calm down.

Where are you going?

The woods. I think I left

my stuff somewhere.

Shall I come with you?

Fine, but at your own risk.

And I don't need your help.

Let's go.

Lucy!

Where are we even going?

I'm going to try

and find my things

and figure out what the hell

is going on around here.

You're not really

making any sense.

Look, I didn't mention this,

but I had an...

an encounter.

I-- I don't know.

That's the best way

I can think to describe it.

-With who?

- Some old lady.

I don't know. She--

She was speaking gibberish,

and I was drunk.

Can you even remember

anything she said?

Well, she went on

some crazy rant about a curse,

and she knew my name,

and I'm pretty sure

that she drugged me,

and she has my stuff, so...

So you are going to go to that

obviously crazy person's place

alone and just demand

your stuff back?

Why don't you

just call the police?

I can handle her.

Here. This is it.

Lucy, calm down.

Let's not make it harder

than it already is.

Hello?

I don't understand.

She's not here.

But she was here!

Huh!

Look! See?

I told you.

Where's my stuff?!

And this f***ing book!

I am so sick of it!

Look, Lucy, this doesn't

prove anything

other than you were

most likely here last night.

Well, how do you

explain it then?

I wasn't that drunk.

All right, book,

you seem to be following me.

Let's see

what you have to say.

What language is this?

It appears to be several.

Looks like some sort

of instruction manual.

That's crazy.

That sort of looks

like it's Hebrew.

That is German.

-Wait, go back.

-Wait, what?

There, Latin.

I'm decent at Italian.

Let me give it a shot.

Something about "die."

Like dying?

No, like dice.

Let me concentrate.

Okay, so it's

about someone's prophecy.

No, destiny.

Uh, it's a detailed account

of something called

a black mass?

And it keeps mentioning

a Saint Walpurga.

What does that even mean?

Apparently a chosen one's

lot is cast,

and through a spell,

how do you say,

an incantation.

It means something...

"Power through the death

of the innocents,

everlasting life,"

something, something,

"consecrated ground."

Wait, what?

Okay, hang on.

This is clearly some sort

of dark ritual or something.

Knowing the history

around here,

sounds like someone is

some sort of demented hobbyist.

Why does this even matter

so much to you anyway?

Look, J.P.,

I didn't tell you this.

I've never told anybody this,

but I've always had

these dark feeling inside,

and I try to cover them up,

because they're

pretty depressing, but...

When I was a little girl,

and my mom

used to tell me stories,

I was always the one

rooting for the villain.

I... I used to make out

with boys in cemeteries.

I would try to hang out

outside of funeral homes,

hoping to see a dead body.

Am I making any sense?

Look, for years,

I've tried to put on

this perfect princess image.

I don't even f***ing like pink.

But then I got here,

and then this all

just came rushing back.

What did?

I don't know. The castle,

that girl, this book.

It's-- It's wrong,

but it feels right.

And from the moment

I got here,

I had this feeling

of belonging,

like dj vu, but stronger.

And-- And I know

that my family history is here,

but it's like I knew

the layout of the castle

before I even walked

in the door.

You said it yourself.

Finding this book

was no accident.

That's why I have to figure

this out.

And I'm sorry about earlier.

I was just really overwhelmed.

No need to explain.

Devil be damned!

You're not welcome here.

Look, mister,

we don't mean any harm.

It's okay.

My uncle is the Count

from Castle Borley.

Your uncle was especially

not welcome here!

I'm glad

that slave-driver's dead.

I'll be glad when the rest

of your devil-worshiping clan's

gone as well!

Feel free to follow him

in the grave, missy!

And take your witchcraft

with you!

-Man, that was crazy.

-Right.

Where did that whack job

come from?

"And take your witchcraft

with ya."

That must have been the man

you saw last night.

No, it wasn't.

Oh, come on, Lucy,

it has to be.

Lucy, can I tell you something?

Sure.

I know we just met,

but I can't stop

thinking about you,

and it's like I've known you

all my life.

And even this morning,

I couldn't stop

wanting to see you.

Even though I represent

all that you despise?

Maybe especially so.

All I wanted

Till I became you

I'm not tryin'

I'm not

- I'm not

- I'm not tryin'

I'm not tryin'

I'm not tryin' to be

I'm not tryin'

I'm, I'm not

- I'm not

- I'm not

I'm not tryin'

I'm just kidding

You think she's ready.

Not quite yet.

She needs to get over her denial

before we can approach her.

The waxing is

not going to wait for anyone.

We already learned that

once the hard way.

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