Dead Souls Volume Three (Parts 27 to 39) Page 7

  “It's Kate Langley, isn't it?”

  At the mention of that name, Edgar visibly bristled.

  “It's alright,” Nixon continued, “I must admit, she's got me intrigued as well. A rather fetching woman drops out of the sky, seemingly from nowhere, and apparently she knows you. For a man who's always used to being in control, the situation must be unsettling.”

  “I'll manage.”

  “Do you believe her?” Nixon waited for an answer. “Time travel,” he added finally. “Even for men such as ourselves, such a thing seems rather fantastical. I've always thought that time travel was one of the few things that was off-limits to everyone, even the likes of us. If she truly came here from the future, and I'm still not certain that she did, but if she did... Doesn't that prospect excite you?”

  “It's rather difficult to accept,” Edgar muttered darkly.

  “But don't you want to tie her down and make her tell you everything?” Nixon asked. “Make her tell you what it's like, one hundred years from now? I imagine I'm some great aristocrat. I mean, it's fun hanging around here on Thaxos with you and Maddy, but at some point I shall have to strike out on my own.”

  “Don't let me delay you.”

  Nixon smiled. “Perhaps everyone is flying around in levitating vehicles,” he continued. “All wars have been ended forever, no-one is cruel or unkind, and every person on the planet is properly fed and housed. Wouldn't that be marvelous, Edgar? I truly believe that with the way technology is advancing, we might very soon see a time when the whole world is a kind of paradise.”

  “I didn't realize you were quite so naive,” Edgar muttered.

  “You'll see,” Nixon replied. “One hundred years from now, in the early twenty-first century, everything will be so much better. I suppose it would be dangerous to learn too much, though. If we knew what the future held, we might be tempted to change it, and then there'd be an awful mess. The potential for paradoxes is quite stunning.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, if Kate Langley is from the future, one has to wonder how she ended up here, especially since she herself seems so utterly confused and lost. Tell me, Edgar, do you think something from the future pushed her back here, or do you think something from here pulled her toward us?”

  “I think such speculation is quite pointless.”

  “Then again,” Nixon continued, “there's nothing and no-one here that could do such a thing, is there?” He paused again, watching as Edgar steadfastly refused to meet his gaze. “You can't think of any such power, can you?”

  “The only power I'm aware of right now,” Edgar said firmly, “is your infinite power to cause irritation. In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to do some work. This island doesn't run itself, you know.”

  “Of course. You're still learning to be the man of the house.” Turning and heading to the door, he stopped and glanced back at his friend. “I'll leave you to it, but one more thing... I think you should keep an eye on your sister. She seems very troubled. More than usual, in fact. I'm worried about her.”

  “She's fine,” Edgar replied dismissively.

  “But -”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Side?” Nixon paused. “Why must there be sides when one talks of family, Edgar?”

  “Are you, of all people, going to lecture me on the meaning of family?”

  Nixon opened his mouth to reply, but at the last moment he seemed to think better of it. “Well,” he said finally, “you've got me there. I'm just guessing what it's like, that's all. Never having had one of my own, obviously.”

  “Madeleine is still growing up,” Edgar said firmly, turning to another of his papers. “She's immature and naive, but I don't have time to concern myself with her childish tantrums. If the time comes, I'll put her in her place.”

  “I know she needs someone to guide her,” Nixon replied, “and to teach her, but remember she needs her brother as well. From time to time, it wouldn't hurt you to be nice to her. You used to be such friends, remember?”

  He waited for a reply, but finally he realized that Edgar had returned his full attention to his paperwork. With a sigh, Nixon turned and left the room.

  ***

  Madeleine stayed quiet, hiding in the shadows as she listened to Nixon and her brother talking in the distance.

  “I know she needs someone to guide her,” Nixon was saying, “and to teach her, but remember she needs her brother as well. From time to time, it wouldn't hurt you to be nice to her. You used to be such friends, remember?”

  “Patronizing hypocrite,” she whispered to herself. “I don't need you to fight my battles.”

  She listened to the sound of Nixon's footsteps heading away from the study, and a moment later she heard him making his way upstairs. Pausing, she waited as the house fell silent again, until the only sound she could hear came from Edgar's pen as its nib scratched against paper.

  Reaching into her pocket, she took out a small glass vial.

  “You're right about one thing, Nixon,” she said quietly. “I do need my brother. I need him dead, so I can be free of this cursed family and live my own life.”

  Once she was certain that Nixon was nowhere nearby and that Jacob wasn't around to cause an interruption, she slipped from the shadows and made her way along the corridor, before stopping at the next door and seeing her brother sitting at his desk. She paused, feeling a flash of fear in her chest, and for a moment she felt that there was no way she could go through with her plan. Looking down at the vial in her hand, she thought about Benjamin for a moment and she considered letting him go, telling him that their relationship couldn't continue. That, she figured, might be an easier way to end the misery.

  “You wanted something?” Edgar asked suddenly.

  “I -” Taking a deep breath, she realized she had to be bold. “I was just wondering what you're doing, that's all.”

  “I'm going through all the paperwork that father left behind when he died,” Edgar continued, still not actually looking over at her.

  “Still? It's been more than a year.”

  “You have no idea how much of a mess he left behind. Running this house, as well as the wider estate and the island itself, is an immense task, and father shirked most of his responsibilities. It's going to take me quite some time to get everything in order, but I'm determined to have it all ready by the time I marry Estella.”

  “How very conscientious of you.”

  “I wouldn't expect you to understand.”

  Stepping into the room, she spotted a cup of tea on the desk. She knew that the vial of nightsorrow, once emptied into the drink, couldn't possibly be detected, and she was certain that even a man such as Edgar would be affected by the poison. Nightsorrow wouldn't kill him outright, but it would at least incapacitate him and allow her to find some way to get rid of him. The plan in her mind wasn't fully formed yet, but she didn't have time to wait; her desperation to be with Benjamin was too strong, and she figured she could work something out once Edgar had drunk the poison. She made her way over to the desk, by which point she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

  “Did you want something in particular,” he asked finally, “or did you just come to irritate me?” He glanced at her. “If you need a job, Madeleine, I can find something for you.”

  “It's not that...”

  “Something's on your mind,” he continued. “I know what you're like, so rather than hovering around me for hours before you blurt it out, why not just tell me now?”

  “You're very perceptive,” she said quietly. “Your marriage to Estella... Do you not worry that by marrying a human, you're risking the purity of our family's lineage?”

  “What purity?” He smiled. “The Le Comptes of old were not pure, Madeleine. There is a lot of different blood in our veins, and not all of it comes from vampires.”

  “Then what else is there?”

  “I honestly don't know. I should probably investigate some time, but the truth is, I'm worried about wh
at I might find.” He glanced at her. “I think perhaps a little human blood would be a good thing. One of the things that I like about Estella is the fact that she's so completely untainted by anything from our world. There's no vampire blood in her family, nothing of werewolves or any other creature. Just pure human blood, nothing more.”

  “Do you love her?”

  He paused.

  “Do you?” she continued. “Are you capable of love?”

  “What kind of a question is that?”

  “An important one.” She paused for a moment. “Edgar, are either of us capable of love? Or did mother and father raise us in such a way...” Another pause, as she thought back for a moment to their childhood. “For the longest time,” she continued finally, “I felt sure that they'd beaten all possibility of love from our hearts. I'd even resigned myself to that fact, and then when you suddenly started to spend time with Estella following father's death, I began to wonder for the first time if I was wrong. At first I thought you were playing with her, faking the whole thing, but now I wonder... When you and I think we love someone, Edgar, how do we know that it's real?”

  “How does anyone know that their love is real?” he asked. “I imagine this is a question that troubles all creatures. Even humans.”

  She smiled, even though her hands were trembling and she felt as if she was on the verge of tears.

  “Are you in love, Madeleine?” he asked finally. “I'm asking as your brother now, not as your guardian.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but the words refused to leave her lips.

  “I too once believed that it was impossible,” he replied, finishing his tea before handing the empty cup to her. “Fill it up for me, will you? The pot is over by the window.”

  Taking the cup, she headed over to the table at the far side of the room, barely able to believe that he had offered her such a perfect opportunity.

  “I used to believe,” Edgar continued, “that mother and father had drained our hearts of love a long time ago. It seems to be a tradition in our family for parents to behave in such a way. But when mother died, I began to see a hint of hope, and then when father followed her... I had already noticed Estella in town, and the innocence of her soul had enraged me. With our parents gone, however, I found myself attracted to that innocence. Say what you like about Estella, but she is a good person and I truly believe she had never had a bad thought about another living soul.”

  Setting the cup down, Madeleine began to pour some more tea for her brother.

  “So I shall ask you again,” he added. “Are you in love? Has someone caught your eye?”

  “Of course not,” she replied, opening the palm of her left hand to reveal the vial of nightsorrow. “Why do you ask such foolish things?”

  “I don't think you would be well-suited to a human,” Edgar continued. “You need someone who can be firm, Madeleine. Someone who can take you to task and make you submit to the rules of life. You might not get to experience true love, but you can still find a man who'll treat you properly.”

  “What if I don't want that?” she asked, setting the pot down and pouring some milk into the cup. “What if I just want someone I love, and who loves me in return?”

  “I wouldn't countenance such a thing.”

  “Isn't it my decision to make?”

  “You're not capable. Don't worry, though. I'll find the right man for you eventually, and I'm sure you'll be able to love him if you put in a little effort.”

  She bristled at his words, and as she set the jug of milk down, she realized that she had only a few seconds in which to make her decision. Removing the lid from the vial of nightsorrow, she paused, trying to work out what to do next.

  “What would you say,” she continued finally, “if I told you that I had fallen in love with a human from the town, and that I wanted to be with him?”

  “Have you?”

  “It's a hypothetical question.”

  “I'd tell you it's out of the question,” he replied, “and if you didn't listen to me, I'd have no choice but to take action.”

  “And what action would that be?”

  “What do you think? I'd have to send the man away, or failing that...”

  “You'd kill him,” she whispered, before pouring the nightsorrow into the cup.

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Yes, Edgar. You would.”

  “Is my tea ready?” he asked. “At this rate, it'll be cold by the time I get to drink the damn thing.”

  “Sorry,” she replied, taking a spoon and stirring the tea for a moment, before carrying the cup over to him and setting it on his desk. “I hope it's just how you like it, Edgar. I know you're often very particular about these things.”

  “You mustn't trouble yourself with thoughts of love,” he told her. “When the time comes, I'm sure I'll find the right husband for you. I briefly considered Nixon for a while, but that would have been a hopeless union. You need someone who'll counterbalance your weaknesses, and for whom you can do the same. Don't worry, Madeleine. I have your best interests at heart and I'm sure you'll thank me eventually.”

  “Drink your tea before it gets cold,” she replied, turning and hurrying out of the room.

  As soon as she reached the hallway, she stopped and leaned back against the wall, feeling a wave of emotion rushing through her body. Closing her eyes, she imagined her brother drinking the poisoned drink and then, in a matter of a few hours, starting to feel ill. For a moment she considered rushing back to his study, grabbing the tea and confessing everything, but finally she thought of Benjamin and she realized that she had to choose between her brother and the man she loved.

  “I choose you, Benjamin,” she whispered. “Always you.”

  “Is everything okay, M'am?” Jacob asked suddenly, stepping through from the kitchen.

  “Everything's fine,” she replied, hurrying to the door. “I'm going out.”

  “But -”

  “I'm going out!” she said again, stepping out of the mansion and stopping at the top of the steps.

  She looked out across the island, seeing the town in the distance, and for a moment she felt completely free, as if her possibilities in the world were endless. A fraction of a second later, however, she felt the opposite: that she was trapped, and that until her brother was out of the way, she could never be truly free.

  “I'm sorry, Edgar,” she whispered finally. “This is just how things have to be.”

  With that, she ran down the steps and across the lawn, heading for town.

  III

  “I have sinned,” Muriel said, shaking her head. “I've had lustful thoughts.”

  “About your husband?” Father Gregory asked.

  “Good gracious, no,” she replied. “About the post-master, actually. About Leonard Mediaci. Have you seen the way he franks the mail? Such firm hands...”

  “I see,” Father Gregory said, trying to hide his surprise. “Muriel, the Lord understands that -”

  Before he could finish, he heard a whisper nearby. Turning, he looked across the church, but all he saw were rows of empty pews.

  “Are you okay?” Muriel asked.

  “Didn't you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  He turned to her. “I'm sorry,” he said after a moment, “forgive me. What were we talking about again?”

  ***

  “Anna!” Kate shouted, running along the street until she reached the town square. Looking around, she saw nothing but a few startled faces staring back at her. “Have you seen Anna?” she asked, trying not to panic.

  “She went that way,” one of the men replied, pointing along the street that ran down the side of the cantina. “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “No,” she stammered, hurrying past him. “Everything's fine.”

  Making her way along the street, she looked around for some sign of the little girl. Stopping at the next intersection, she saw the building that she remembered as Doctor Young's surgery, except th
at now there was a different name over the door. Turning, she saw the church spire, and the accommodation at the back of the cantina. For a moment she was struck by the realization that everything felt the same but different. She wanted to call out to Ephram and Suzanne and the others, but she knew that none of them had even been born yet.

  “Anna!” she called out. “Where are you?”

  Heading past the surgery, she reached the police station and then turned left, heading along the dirt path that led out of town. As she passed the rear of the station, however, she glanced into the yard and finally she stopped as she saw a familiar little figure sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring up at one of the windows.

  “Anna!” she said, slipping through the gate and hurrying over to her. “Thank God! What are you doing here?”

  “I followed her,” Anna replied, still staring at the window.

  “You followed who?”

  “Mummy.”

  Kneeling next to her, Kate quickly checked that the child had no sign of injuries. “You terrified me,” she said, still a little out of breath. “Anna, you can't just go running off like that.” Taking her hand, she got to her feet. “Come on, let's get back to the shop.”

  “She's in there,” Anna replied, her eyes fixed on the window.

  “In the police station?”

  Anna nodded.

  “What's she doing in there?”

  “I don't know, but she goes out of the house a lot without me.” She paused for a moment, before finally turning to Kate. “Sometimes she goes at night, after she thinks I'm asleep.”

  “She does?” Looking up at the window, Kate couldn't help but wonder what was happening in there. “Whatever she's doing,” she said finally, “I'm sure it's okay. Let's just give her some privacy, okay? I'm sure she'll tell you what she's doing if you ask.”

  “I've tried, but she won't.”

  “Well then I'm sure she's got a good reason,” Kate continued. “I doubt she wants you following her, though. Come on, I'll take you home and we can get some lunch. Doesn't that sound nice?”