Dead Souls Volume Three (Parts 27 to 39)

by Amy Cross

  “As if your memories are being peeled away, one by one? Yes, that's how the book said it would be. Don't worry, the human mind is a wonderful thing, it'll paper over the cracks and the rest of your memories will be quite untouched. The only thing you'll lose is the knowledge that we were friends, and that we might have been something else.”

  He took a series of deep breaths, but it was clear that the longsummer wort was doing its job.

  Getting to her feet, Estella continued to watch him for a moment. There were tears in her eyes, and she was desperate for the drug to finish its work.

  “I...” Lassiter said eventually. “Estella, we...”

  She waited.

  Silence.

  Slowly, he turned to her.

  “I love you,” she said finally.

  He stared.

  “I'm sorry,” he said finally, “I... Where were we?” He looked around for a moment, clearly startled, before turning back to her. “Ms. Graves, I'm terribly sorry, I think I had a brief spell of dizziness.”

  “Don't you remember what we were talking about?” she asked, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

  “We...” Another pause. “You'll have to forgive me, I'm not sure what has come over me this morning.”

  “It's quite alright,” she told him, “I simply came to request a copy of my medical files. As you might be aware, I am marrying Baron Le Compte in a few days' time, and from that point on I shall use his private doctor on the mainland if I need any assistance.”

  “Of course,” he replied, heading over to the filing cabinet and pulling it open. “I can give you your notes immediately.”

  She smiled, watching as he rifled through the cabinet.

  “You've been a good doctor,” she continued, “I hope you won't take this personally.”

  “Absolutely not,” he replied, taking her folder out and taking it over to her. “You haven't exactly been one of my more regular patients. In fact, I don't remember the last time you...” He paused for a moment, as if just for a fraction of a second he was aware that something was wrong.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he replied, “I just... I honestly don't remember you ever coming to me for anything.”

  “No,” she said, taking the folder from him, “I don't think I ever did.”

  “Well good luck with your wedding,” he continued, with a broad smile that hinted at a kind of emptiness in his soul. “I'm sure you'll be very happy up there. Try to loosen Le Compte's mood a bit, won't you? He always seems so dour.”

  “I shall do my best.”

  ***

  A few minutes later, Estella stood sobbing in one of the alleys behind the doctor's office. As tears streamed down her face, she tried to console herself by saying the same words over and over again:

  “Lady Estella Le Compte. You shall be Lady Estella... It's all you've ever wanted...”

  III

  “Everyone turn to chapter two,” Mrs. Beacham said as she stood at the front of the class.

  Staring at her book, Anna was thinking about her mother, and about the fact that she knew Kate had been lying earlier.

  “Anna Kazakos, that means you too!”

  Looking up, Anna realized that everyone was staring at her.

  “Chapter two, Anna.”

  As the other children giggled, Anna found the chapter in her book. By the time Mrs. Beacham started talking again, however, Anna's mind was already drifting back to her mother. All she wanted was to see her again, to be held by her, and to be tucked into bed by her. After all her plans to go exploring the world, Anna suddenly felt very different, as if she'd be perfectly happy to just stay on Thaxos with her mother forever.

  Sniffing, she told herself not to cry. Only silly little girls cried, or at least that was what her friends had said.

  ***

  “I need you to tell me about the children of Narm,” Madeleine said, standing in the doorway.

  Turning to her, Nixon seemed momentarily shocked. “I'm sorry?”

  “Don't lie to me,” she continued, with a hint of fear in her eyes. “I know that something happened on the last day of the vampire war. I know it involved cold-blooded vampire children in a nest, in the city of Narm. And I know...” She paused, as if she was scared to hear the truth. “And I know that you and Edgar were involved.”

  “I'm a werewolf,” he reminded her. “By direct decree of Gothos himself, werewolves were not permitted to fight in the war.”

  “Like that would ever stop you.”

  “Only a fool would have gone against that decree.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “Madeleine...” He looked down at his book for a moment, realizing that his hands were trembling. He looked over at the window, then at the desk, then back at the book; anywhere except Madeleine's eyes.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “It's possible that I might have... become involved, at the very end. Just, you know, slipped in for an hour or two, while the sentries at the Cracked Gate were celebrating. Edgar called for me, he knew that I'd be able to help with a very specific problem he was facing. He knew it was something for which I would be especially suited.”

  “Quite a compliment.”

  He looked away, turning his face toward the shadows. “Indeed.”

  “What was the problem?”

  “It's all in the past.”

  “It's not in the past,” she said firmly. “It's very much in the present, actually, so you need to start talking. Don't make me force it out of you, because you know I can.”

  Sighing, he closed the book. “Does Edgar know that you're asking me about this?”

  “As if. Tell me, Nixon.”

  “I don't think I...” He paused. “You're asking me about something that happened so long ago. I haven't thought about it since that day.”

  “Why not? Because you're ashamed?”

  “I'm begging you, Madeleine, leave this well alone. You didn't fight in the war, you didn't see the things that happened, so you can't sit here in the comfort of the mansion and imagine what it was like. I only saw a glimpse of it, right at the end, but Edgar and I swore...” He paused again. “We swore that we'd never talk of that day. We swore that we'd never even acknowledge it, not even to one another. It's a miracle that we can still stand to be in one another's company, really, but I suppose it helps each of us in some sick and twisted way.”

  “Because of what you did?”

  “Because of -”

  “Did you kill children?”

  He stared at her.

  “Just tell me,” she continued.

  “It is infinitely more complicated that you can imagine, Madeleine. I don't even know if I can explain it.”

  “Try.”

  “The last day of the war was chaos,” he continued. “The cold-blooded vampires were losing, they were dying in droves and they knew it. They'd fought well and hard, they'd done everything to stop us, but the tide of the war changed and there was nothing they could do to regain momentum. The warm-bloods, such as Edgar and his friends, were pushing forward, retaking lost towns and cities, and in some cases they were seeking revenge for all the terrible things that had happened to Gothos. Everyone had lost someone who was important to them, everyone had been through so much misery, even the wisest and calmest soldiers were filled with bloodlust. There were no innocent men left at the end of that particular day. Not one.”

  Madeleine waited for him to continue.

  “So Edgar made you go with him?”

  “He knew that I was a scientist,” he replied. “We'd met a few times, just enough for him to have an understanding of my work. He knew that I could maybe do things that others couldn't, and although werewolves were banned from taking part in the war, he reasoned that the war was effectively over anyway. I suppose, in his mind, he felt the decree of Gothos didn't stand any longer. So off I went with him, and I used my brilliance to come up with...” His voice trailed off for a moment. �
��I should have thought about how many people would suffer. You'd think that would be my first concern, but no... I only thought about the puzzle, and the challenge, and about how I could prove my genius.”

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  He paused, staring into space.

  “What did you do, Nixon?”

  “Edgar asked me to create a weapon,” he explained, “something we could pour into the nests, to kill all the remaining cold-blooded vampire children.”

  “And did you?”

  “I created it for him. For my sins, yes, I did. It was so difficult, a lesser man could never have done it, but...” His eyes briefly lit up with excitement, before a wave of sadness crossed him again. “There. Did you see it? Did you see how excited I became? I let pride overcome me, and I will never forgive myself.”

  “What exactly was this compound?”

  “A type of acid, mixed with various other compounds. It...” He paused, staring into space as if he was struggling to remember the horror. “I focused on making sure that it would work. I knew that it would cause an agonizing death for all the children in the nest, but I put such concerns out of my mind. It was like a puzzle, really. I enjoyed the challenge, and I barely even thought about the cost. Apparently that's the kind of person I am.”

  “And then you gave this acid to Edgar?”

  He nodded.

  With tears in her eyes, Madeleine tried to ask the next question, but she couldn't find the strength. “I don't think I want to know,” she whispered finally.

  “I was with him,” Nixon continued. “We stood on an outcrop, overlooking the nest. Down below us, thousands of cold-blooded vampire children were swarming. Edgar had the capsule of acid in his hand. I'd designed it so that he just needed to drop that one capsule, and the acid would spread from there, calcifying the children and turning them to dust. We stood there, not saying anything, listening to the hisses and cries of the children beneath us, while Edgar held the capsule. He was daring himself to drop it, daring himself to commit genocide.”

  As a tear ran down her cheek, Madeleine closed her eyes.

  “He didn't do it,” Nixon added finally.

  She opened her eyes again.

  “He couldn't,” Nixon continued. “He told me later that he felt weak, but he said he couldn't bring himself to murder those children. I think even for Edgar, that would have been a step too far. He does have morals, you know. He was worried that his soul was die if he dropped that capsule. He was probably right.”

  “So the children didn't die?” Madeleine asked. She waited for a reply. “Nixon? What happened?”

  “There were others there that day,” he replied. “In the confusion of war, things can happen so quickly. Another warm-blooded vampire named Makho learned about the capsule and managed to steal it from Edgar. By the time we realized, it was too late to stop him. We arrived just after he'd dropped it into the nest. We heard the children screaming, and we watched as they died. It didn't take long, the capsule had been a brilliant piece of work so...”

  She waited for a moment. “But Edgar wasn't the one who killed them?”

  He shook his head.

  “And neither were you!”

  “I created the capsule. Edgar asked me to do it. Without us, it wouldn't have existed and Makho couldn't have done what he did. We must take responsibility for what happened.”

  “Not if you didn't do it,” Madeleine continued. “Nixon, you said it yourself, Edgar chose not to kill those children!”

  “He killed Makho,” Nixon replied. “It was inevitable, I knew he'd do it as soon as he found out what the fool had done. That's one of the reasons Edgar was never hailed as a hero of the war. When the commanders learned that he'd killed one of his own, he was cast out of the army and sent back here to Thaxos. I came with him, of course, at first because I knew he needed help. We have never spoken about that day since, but I sometimes think it never really leaves his thoughts, not even for a second.” He paused. “I know it's a constant undercurrent in mine. Every single day.”

  “But you didn't actually use the capsule.”

  “We came so close. Ever since then, I've held back from using my skills. I thought I was the greatest scientist the werewolf race had ever known, I might even have been right, but until that day I never thought of the cost. Now I think of nothing but the cost, I'm paralyzed by the thought of all the possible consequences of my work. We never know the extent of our abilities until we push them too far.” He looked over toward the door. “That's something I keep trying to make Estella understand. I worry that she'll make the same mistakes as me, that she'll go too far and then...”

  Madeleine made her way over to the window and looked out for a moment, before turning and looking back over at Nixon.

  “So this is what's been haunting Edgar since he came back?”

  He nodded.

  “I used to think I wanted to fight in the war,” she continued, “but now... Now I just wish there had never been a war. I had no idea that...” She paused. “But he can't truly blame himself. Neither of you can. The only person to blame for what happened is that Makho guy, plus, it was only...”

  A faint smile crossed Nixon's lips. “Only cold-blooded children?”

  “I didn't mean it like that.”

  “I know you're right,” he continued, “but there's nothing you can say, Madeleine, and nothing you can do that will ever take the guilt away. It's just something that Edgar and I have to live with for the rest of our lives. We have very different ways of coping.”

  “So that's what Quillian wants,” Madeleine replied. “Revenge.”

  “So it's true? He's really here.”

  She nodded. “But he's wrong,” she continued. “He thinks you and Edgar were responsible for what happened -”

  “We were!”

  “No, you weren't!”

  “It's not that simple,” he replied. “The children died, and they wouldn't have died if Edgar and I hadn't got so far along with our plan. You're not an idiot, Madeleine. I know you can see how this weighs heavily on our shoulders. If you were in our positions, you wouldn't be able to just shrug it off either.” He reached out for his glass of whiskey, but his hand was trembling and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make it fall still.

  “Fear?” Madeleine asked, watching him with concern.

  He shook his head. “No. Shame.”

  IV

  “Damn it!” Joshua exclaimed, as the metal slipped from his grasp and he almost sliced his thumb with the chisel. Dropping his tools, he took a step back from the work-bench.

  “Son?” a voice called out.

  Turning, Joshua saw his mother Winifred reaching the doorway.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Fine. Just... Let me get on with work, okay? Father will be angry if I'm not done by the time he gets back.”

  “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “Stop fussing!”

  “This was delivered for you,” she continued, setting an envelope on the counter. She waited, as if she was excited. “Well? Aren't you going to open it? It might be something important! I can't remember the last time we got a letter for anyone in the house!”

  “Perhaps a little privacy would be called for,” he muttered, picking up the envelope and seeing his name written in careful, elegant handwriting.

  “There aren't many people on Thaxos who can write that neatly,” Winifred pointed out.

  “I know,” he snapped back at her. “Now get out of here and let me work!”

  As the old woman reluctantly returned to the main part of the house, Joshua opened the envelope and took out a card, upon which a note had been written in the same script.

  “Huh,” he muttered after a moment, looking into the envelope again and pulling out several banknotes. “Well... How can a man refuse such a handsome offer?”

  ***

  Stopping in the doorway, Madeleine saw that Edgar was still in the bathing chamber, with only his he
ad and bare, ravaged shoulders showing above the waterline. She wanted to call out to him, but for a moment she simply stared at his face, trying to imagine what it had been like to fight in the war. The part of her that wished she'd been in the war was fading now, replaced by a part that hated everything that had happened. At least she understood Edgar a little better now.

  “Hey,” she said finally.

  She waited, but her brother didn't respond.

  “I know about Quillian,” she continued, entering the room and making her way to the edge of the pool. “I talked to Nixon. I know everything.”

  “You don't know everything,” he replied darkly.

  “I know about the nest of cold-blooded children that got destroyed.”

  He turned to her, with pain in his eyes.

  “I know that you and Nixon were planning to do it, but that you held back at the last moment. I know that someone named Makho took the weapon you were going to use, and he used it instead.”

  “I killed Makho for what he did that day.”

  “I know that too.”

  “I took him to the Valley of Other Men's Minds, and I drowned him there.”

  “Sounds... dramatic. Very you, dear brother.”

  “Once he was dead, I immediately regretted killing him,” Edgar continued. “I saw his lifeless body and I realized that I had lost the chance to torture him for infinity, the way...” He paused. “The way Quillian tortured me.”

  “This is a mess,” Madeleine replied, making her way along the edge of the pool. “You've got to admit, dear brother, that if I'm the voice of reason and sanity in any situation, things are pretty messed up. I mean, you're in here, clearly paralyzed by fear -”

  He shook his head.

  “Yeah, Edgar, you are,” she said firmly, stopping in front of him. “If that was anyone else down there in the town causing chaos, you'd already have his spine torn out of his body by now. But because it's Quillian, you're cowering up here, pretending you're working on some grand plan when really you're just delaying things. Maybe you can fool other people, but you can't fool yourself and you can't fool me.” She waited for him to reply, but she could see from the look in his eyes that she'd hit home. “It pains me to say this, brother, but you need to face up to your responsibilities. You can take Quillian easily, he's nothing compared to you.”