by Amy Cross
“Where?” Nixon asked, clearly shocked by the idea. “What text speaks of such a thing?”
“It is said,” Edgar continued, heading back to the desk, “that the great cold-blooded vampire god Ashalla was able to construct a vessel from his thoughts, using his own mind to power the sails, and that he learned to guide that ship through the gap between individual moments. As you pointed out, such things are often exaggerated, but I felt it was worth exploring the matter a little further. Again, I told myself that I would find nothing, but...”
He picked up another piece of paper and examined it for a moment.
“Many centuries ago,” he explained, “Thaxos was home to a cult that left almost no traces in the history books. From what little I have read, however, I believe it is quite possible that they were a vampire cult of Ashalla, and that they were dedicated to calling him into this world. They used, perhaps even constructed, the stone circle on the island's north side.”
“But they failed,” Nixon replied. “They must have failed. If they'd been able to draw Ashalla into this world... Well, I mean we'd know about it, wouldn't we?”
“Perhaps it just took longer than they expected,” Edgar pointed out, interrupting him. “The cult died off, they probably believed they had been unsuccessful, but then many years later, running from the great vampire war, Ashalla realized that this would be the perfect place to take refuge. He answered their call, long after they were gone.”
“He's dead, though. You said it yourself.”
“Vampire mythology is a complex thing,” Edgar continued. “Half of everything that is written is a lie, the other half is an exaggeration. If you believe the texts, Ashalla was a forty-foot demon with burning red eyes and the ability to tear whole cities apart. The truth is undoubtedly less dramatic, Ashalla – if he exists at all – is most likely less colorful, and yet...” He paused. “It's just a theory, you understand. Most likely I'm wrong and some other explanation will present itself in due course. I simply feel the need to prepare for all possible eventualities in case -”
Hearing the bell ringing elsewhere in the house, he looked toward the door.
“We mustn't discuss this matter during dinner,” he said finally. “I don't want to worry the others.”
“But if you're right about Ashalla...” Nixon paused. “Edgar, what would it means for Thaxos if an ancient vampire god had arrived?”
“Let us worry about such things tomorrow,” Edgar said, clearly concerned. “Tonight, we must try to entertain our guests and ensure that they know nothing of our concerns. If this is to be the last party for a while, I would rather remember it as a great occasion.” With that, he walked out of the study and along the corridor, making his way to the ballroom.
“What do you mean,” Nixon asked, hurrying after him, “the last party? Edgar -”
Before he could finish, Edgar stopped at the entrance to the ballroom and snapped his fingers, causing the entire room to erupt into a shower of light and noise. A band began playing at the far end, while masked figures appeared mid-waltz, filling the room as waiters carried trays of champagne from guest to guest.
“We must enjoy ourselves,” Edgar said, turning to Nixon. “After tonight, we might not get another chance for a while.”
***
“Maybe I should have found something a little more appropriate,” Kate muttered, looking down at her jeans as she sat in the carriage. She was halfway to the house, being pulled along in a horse-drawn carriage that Edgar had sent for her. Sighing, she glanced out the window and looked at the mansion up ahead.
Seconds later, she saw bright lights suddenly start to fill the windows of the mansion, and she began to realize that when Edgar had invited her to a dinner party, what he actually meant was one of his huge extravaganzas.
“Oh yeah,” Kate said with a sigh. “I definitely should have dressed up.”
V
“Well isn't this wonderful,” Estella said as she made her way across the ballroom, with dancers all around. “I have to admit, Edgar definitely knows how to put on a show.”
“You know they're all dead, right?” Madeleine asked, trailing after her. “The only people who ever come to his parties are people who have no choice. That's the whole reason he collects dead souls.”
“Oh quiet now,” Estella continued, stopping at the door and looking along the candle-lit corridor for a moment. “Where is Edgar, anyway? He always disappears at the most inopportune moments. Dinner will be served in a few minutes' time.”
“I don't have a clue where he is,” Madeleine replied, “but...” She paused, wondering whether to deliver the next item of news before realizing that it might be useful to have Edgar distracted by an argument. “Well, Kate Langley showed up a few minutes ago,” she added with a faint smile, “so I guess maybe Edgar's busy with her.”
She smiled as she saw the color draining from Estella's face.
***
“And this,” Edgar said, unlocking the door and pushing it open to reveal a room filled with crates and boxes, “is my family's archive. It's where I keep all the -”
“I know,” Kate replied, stepping past him. “I've been in here before.”
“Of course you have,” he continued, letting the door swing shut as he followed her inside. “I imagine there was no need for me to give you a tour of the house at all. You must know all its nooks and crannies by now.”
“Not all of them,” Kate told him, “just...” She stopped suddenly, breathing in the distinctive smell of yellowing papers and neglected crates. “It's just strange to be back here,” she added. “I never thought I'd see the place again, not after the fire and -” She caught herself at the last moment, but when she turned to him she could see that he was curious. “I mean...”
“Fire?” he asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“Forget I said that.”
“I can't shake the feeling,” he continued, “that the future sounds rather... hectic. At least from the few clues you've let slip so far. I do hope that this fire of which you speak is not going to cause too much damage to the house.”
“I can't say anything,” she told him. “Please...”
“I suppose I should try to have the archive organized properly,” he told her, stepping forward and admiring the crates and boxes. “I just don't know where to start.” He paused, before turning to her. “This must be a fascinating reversal,” he added. “When you first came to see the archive, when it was new to you, I assume I must have shown you around.”
“I really can't answer questions about the future...”
“But while I was showing you around,” he continued, “I must have remembered this moment, which I imagine made the whole situation more amusing for me. And now you're the one with the upper hand.”
“I really don't feel like I have much of an upper hand at the moment,” she told him.
“I'm a man of secrets,” he replied. “I know it's fashionable to think of secrets as dark, cancerous things that eat away at the world, but I believe secrets are vitally important. I'm starting to wonder, however, whether I might have revealed some of my secrets to you. The problem is, I don't know which ones you know and which ones are still under wraps. Can you imagine how this puts me in a rather unusual position?”
“Shouldn't we be getting back to your guests?” she asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.
“I need to ask you something first,” he replied. “Something important and... a little sensitive.”
“Edgar -”
“In the future, in your time... What is the exact nature of our relationship?”
“Don't you think this is another thing that I shouldn't tell you?”
“Probably, but I want to know regardless.” He paused. “I can see it in your eyes, Kate. The way you look at me is different somehow, as if you know me in ways I can't possibly understand. When I entered your mind yesterday -”
“Thanks for that, by the way.”
“I left as soon as y
ou objected.”
“Only because I knew you were there.”
“Which, in itself, marks you out.” He started to walk around her, as if he wanted to study her from every angle, but she turned so that she was always facing him. “You do understand why I find you so fascinating, do you not?” he asked. “You are something that I never thought could exist. You are someone who has a degree of power over me. Someone human.”
“I just want to get home,” she told him. “I can't stay here forever.”
“Perhaps you can. Perhaps you must? It might be your destiny.”
She shook her head.
“How do you know?”
“Because I'm not going to live the rest of my life in the past!”
“And yet the first time we met, from your perspective, I must have already known your fate.” He stopped and stared at her for a moment. “Whether you get back or not, whether you live or die... Did I not hint to you that I knew more than I was letting on?”
“You acted as if you'd never met me before.”
“Then I must have had a good reason.”
“Apart from playing games?”
“And yet here I am,” he continued, “trying to pick apart my own motives from afar. Something about you must have captured my interest, Ms. Langley, and whatever it was, it must have happened while you were here with us in this time period.” He paused again. “Tell me about Ashalla.”
“About what?”
“Have you ever heard that word before?”
She shook her head.
“It means absolutely nothing to you?”
“What is it?”
He stared at her for a moment. “I believe you,” he said finally.
“Thanks.”
“And yet if you come from one hundred years in the future,” he continued, “that would seem to suggest that Thaxos is not in imminent danger of...” Another pause. “Tell me about the major differences. Is there anything that has struck you as having changed on the island between this moment and the future?”
“Nothing major,” she replied.
“There must be something,” he said firmly. “I simply refuse to believe that -”
Hearing someone at the door, they both turned just in time to see Estella entering the room.
“I was just showing Ms. Langley around,” Edgar said, seemingly a little flustered. “You know I always offer a tour to new arrivals.”
“Of course,” Estella replied, forcing a smile as she hurried over to join them. “Kate, it's so good to see you again. Thank you again for your help this morning.”
“You were together this morning?” Edgar asked.
“Girl things,” Estella told him. “Mainly about the wedding, actually. I was so lacking the input of another woman. I mean, I did try to ask Madeleine for some help a while back, but as you can imagine, she didn't take things entirely seriously. The silly girl told me I should wear a black wedding dress and a headpiece made of raven feathers. I mean...” She began to laugh, although something about her every word seemed insincere. “That girl is so morbid. Kate and I, however, have been getting on like a house on fire!”
Kate smiled awkwardly, although she felt somewhat uncomfortable.
“In fact,” Estella added, “I was thinking of asking Kate to be my maid of honor!”
“You were?” Kate replied, startled by the idea.
“Well? Would you do that for me?”
Kate stared at her for a moment, taken aback by the enthusiasm in her eyes. “Well, I... I don't really know what that... entails...”
“Oh, I'll explain it all to you,” Estella continued, forcing a smile. “It basically means that you're by my side for the whole wedding, and you help to make sure that it goes off without any problems. You wouldn't mind, would you? I know it's a big thing to ask someone I barely know, but I feel we have a real connection and, well, I don't know who else to ask!”
“Of course,” Kate replied, trying to seem keen. “That sounds wonderful...”
“Must you wear those infernal gloves?” Edgar asked Estella. “They don't match your dress at all.”
“I like them,” she snapped, before turning to Kate. “And are you still wearing those unusual clothes?”
“Where I come from,” Kate told her, “jeans are pretty normal.”
“Don't you just hate this dusty old room?” Estella continued. “I don't know why Edgar insists on keeping all these things around, but if I had my way, there'd be a big bonfire and they'd all be burned. In fact, once I'm the lady of the house, I think I'll be rearranging things.”
“Well -” Kate began.
“This is going to be so much fun!” Estella continued, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her toward the door. “I don't mind telling you, I've been desperately in need of some fresh company for a while now. Come on, Kate! There's a whole party waiting for us!”
Glancing back at Edgar, Kate could see that he was irritated by the intrusion. Before she could say anything to him, however, she was dragged out into the corridor by an enthusiastic Estella, who continued to babble on and on as she dragged Kate past the ballroom and up the spiral stairs.
***
“You're planning something,” Nixon said as he sidled up beside Madeleine. “Don't bother to deny it, I can see it in your eyes. You're waiting for an opportunity to do... some... thing...”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” she replied, forcing a smile as she watched the dancers. Taking a sip of her gin and tonic, she frowned. “I swear, Jacob's been watering these down. It's almost as if he doesn't want me to get even slightly tipsy!” She grabbed Nixon's glass and took a swig of champagne. “That's better! Oh God, I needed that!”
“You're not going to make a scene, are you?”
“Me?” She turned to him, with an expression of mock horror. “How could you possibly suggest such a thing? I'm just a delightful little wallflower who wants her brother's evening to go without a hitch.”
“Madeleine -”
“I swear,” she continued. “Trust me, in a few minutes' time you won't even know I'm here. By the way, if Edgar asks where I am, just tell him I'm powdering my nose.”
“But if -” He paused for a moment, eying her with renewed suspicion. “Oh, no... You're going to sneak out, aren't you?”
“I'd have to be pretty brave to sneak out,” she replied, unable to stifle a grin. “Edgar would be furious if he found out.”
“Where are you going?”
“Mind your own beeswax.”
“This is my business!” he hissed, lowering his voice so they wouldn't be overheard. “Madeleine, what could possibly be so important that you're willing to sneak out of the house on such an important night?”
“It's not an important night,” she replied with a sigh. “It's just Edgar, conjuring up more shadows and dead souls to fill his house so he can pretend to have friends. None of these people have actually made an effort to come here. He just snapped his fingers and they appeared, and later – when he tires of them – he'll snap his fingers again and they'll disappear into a puff of smoke. Until next time he wants to impress Kate Langley, anyway.”
“This isn't about -”
“Is he falling for her?”
“Madeleine -”
“I knew it,” she continued. “He can't just pick a woman and marry her. Time-traveling Kate Langley drops into his lap and suddenly he wants to keep her there.”
“You're changing the subject,” he told her. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To see someone who actually wants to spend time with me,” she replied. “Someone who cares about me, someone who likes me, someone who loves me! And I love him!” She paused, realizing that she'd probably gone too far. “I swear, Nixon, if you breathe a word of this to Edgar, I'll never forgive you! I'll wait until you change your form again and I'll have your goddamn tail off!”
“What's the lucky gentleman's name?”
“I'm not telling you.”
&
nbsp; “Edgar will find out, you know.”
She shook her head.
“He will,” Nixon continued. “Madeleine, he always -”
“Cover for me,” she replied, leaning over and giving him a peck on the cheek before taking a step back. “Please, Nixon. If you and I were ever friends, if you have even the slightest stitch of compassion or sympathy in your body, I'm begging you... This is important to me. Sometimes I think it's the only thing that keeps me sane.”
“You know I won't snitch,” he told her, “but promise me you won't ever tell Edgar that I kept quiet. I don't want to be dragged into your mess.”
“Worried he'd kick you out?”
“Something like that.”
“You're the best!” Turning, she slipped through the crowd, dodging the various dancers and offering various polite words until she reached the door on the far side of the room. Glancing back for a moment, she saw Nixon was still watching her, so she flashed him a brief smile before hurrying along the corridor. Relieved to find that there was no sign of Edgar, she made her way to the main hallway, only to see that Jacob was loitering by the door, having apparently anticipated her next move.
“M'am?” he said, clearly unimpressed.
“I'm going out,” she told him matter-of-factly.
