Dead Souls Volume Three (Parts 27 to 39)

by Amy Cross

  She felt a shiver pass through her body as she imagined the pain Kate must be enduring. After a moment, she noticed that a little more light was falling through the window than before, and her focus faded enough for her to finally hear the music that was drifting up from the ballroom.

  “A party?” she whispered, frowning. “Perhaps Edgar is merely rehearsing for our wedding. He -”

  Pulling the needle out of the doll, she watched as her hands started to tremble, and suddenly her resolve began to weaken.

  “What have I done?” she continued. “Poor Kate, I... I mustn't do anything to hurt her, she's my friend, she...”

  She paused.

  “No,” she added, forcing the tremble to pass. “Not poor Kate. It might not be entirely her fault, but she's still the cause.” Repositioning the needle, she began to drive it through the doll's head, and as her focus returned she started to block out every other sense, ignoring the light from the window and the sound of music and -

  “Enough!” Nixon shouted, grabbing the doll and pulling it from her hands, before sliding the needle out of its head. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I -”

  “Forget that question,” he continued, taking a step back and untwisting the lock of Kate's hair that had been tied around the doll's neck. Dropping the hair to the ground, he set the needle down and then tore the doll's head clean away. “I know exactly what you were just doing. I hoped I was wrong, but I can already see the guilt in your eyes.”

  “Nixon, please -”

  “Alchemical morphic resonance,” he added. “That's the scientific name for what you were just doing.”

  She took a moment to compose herself. “Nixon... James, you must understand -”

  “Were you going to kill her?”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you sure about that, Estella?”

  “Of course I'm sure, I was just practicing. I had no idea that -”

  “Can the innocent act,” he continued, making his way to the fireplace and dropping the doll into the grate, before taking a moment to set light to its body. “I knew this would happen, Estella. From the moment I first learned what was happening to you, I saw this coming but I just didn't know how to stop you. I guess I just hoped and prayed that you'd have enough honor in your heart to refrain. There's a reason most witches end up as lonely, sorrowful wretches. You just can't resist using your new powers for your own gain.”

  “And why shouldn't I?” she asked, as tears returned to her eyes. “What's the point of them if I don't use them?”

  “Kate was in agony,” he replied, making his way back over to her. “If I hadn't stopped you, you'd have gone all the way, wouldn't you?”

  “No, I -”

  “Don't lie to me,” he said firmly, with pure hatred in his voice. Looking down at a nearby table, he saw several more needles lined up, ready to be used. “I've got to admit, Estella, you cracked much, much faster than I ever expected. I thought it'd take you weeks, maybe months to let this level of evil into your heart.”

  “There's no evil in my heart,” she told him. “Please, don't say such horrid things. My powers, such as they are, barely even -”

  “Jennifer Kazakos is alive.”

  At this, Estella paused, as if the idea shocked her.

  “So it seems you were able to resurrect her after all,” he continued. “How do you feel about that, eh? You actually took a human female who had sunk into the jaws of death, and you plucked her back to the land of the living. It just took a little longer for your work to take effect. Still, well done. Your powers are growing and I honestly don't know where your limits are, or if you have any.”

  “She's alive?” Clearly shocked by the news, Estella looked over at the burning doll. “I really can do things, can't I? If I can raise the dead -”

  “Don't get ahead of yourself,” he continued. “We have a problem. Quillian is somewhere in the house.”

  “Well, then Edgar -”

  “And Edgar's trapped outside. It's just you, me, Kate and Madeleine, and we have to find a way to stop him. Have you seen or heard anything unusual? Apart from all the usual unusual things around this place.”

  “Nothing,” she replied, “but... I've been in my room for hours now, all alone.”

  “So what the hell is he up to?” Nixon asked, heading toward the door. “Why's he sneaking about?”

  “You can't tell anyone what I did!” Estella replied, hurrying after him and grabbing his arm. “Please, I'm not an evil person, I just made a terrible mistake.” Stepping in front of him, she tried to block his way out of the room. “I was weak. For one brief, terrible moment I allowed the lure of my powers to get the better of me, but I swear I won't do it again. Is... Is poor Kate okay?”

  “She's resting in the study,” he replied, clearly not convinced by her sudden show of remorse, “and I think she'll be fine. We'll talk about this later, Estella. There's a side of you I just don't trust.”

  “I need your help,” she continued. “You're right, these powers... They're overwhelming.”

  “I'll do my best, but the first thing you need to do is draw some lines in the sand and never, ever cross them. I can't give you a moral framework. I can't make you a good person.”

  “I will never use my powers that way again,” she told him, as fresh tears began to run down her cheeks. “You have my word, Nixon. I'm not an evil woman, you must know that, deep in your heart. Yes, I did something bad, but I'm only human. Once Edgar and I are married -”

  “There won't be a wedding,” he replied, interrupting her, “if Quillian isn't stopped. So while I go and find Madeleine, you need to go and wait in the study and hope that we can find some way to weaken him. Right now, our only chance is to get this barrier down and allow Edgar back into the house. We'll deal with your character flaws later, if we live through all of this.”

  As he pushed past, she nodded, before turning and watching as he hurried along the corridor.

  “I'm not a bad person,” she whispered, as if she was trying to convince herself. “I'm not. I'm a good person who has been put in a quite extraordinary situation.”

  ***

  As Edgar stood over by the main doors, waiting for some sign that the barrier was about to weaken, Benjamin made his way around the fountain, slipping past the masked guests as he tried to keep track of the blonde girl. She was so focused on Edgar, she seemed not to have realized that anyone else had noticed her, which allowed him to get close. He watched for a moment, until he was certain that she was, indeed, hiding from Edgar yet also drawn to him.

  “And who might you be?” he asked finally, putting a hand on her shoulder from behind.

  “No!” she said, turning and staring in shock, as if she was momentarily gripped by blind panic. “I... I'm just a guest, that's all.”

  “You're not wearing a mask and you're not dancing.”

  “Are those things compulsory?” She forced a smile, but it was hopelessly unconvincing. “You shouldn't go sneaking up on people, you know. I... I'm just like everyone else at this wonderful party.”

  “Somehow I find that hard to believe,” he replied. “You've been watching Edgar for a while now, and you're desperately trying to make sure that he doesn't see you. You're not a part of his collection of souls, are you?”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but the words seemed to catch in her throat.

  “Are you with Quill?” he asked.

  “Quill?” she paused, momentarily lost in thought. “So I was right, it is that night.”

  “Are you working with him?”

  “Of course not! Why would anyone in their right mind want to work with that monster?”

  “So you know who he is?”

  “I...” She paused, as if she was becoming increasingly tongue-tied. “It's complicated. Yes, I know who he is, and no, I wouldn't help that man under any circumstances. I'd rather die.”

  “Give me one good reason,” Benjamin continued, “why I shouldn'
t drag you over to Edgar right now?”

  “I just...” She paused again, glancing back toward Edgar for a moment before turning to Benjamin again. “You can't let him see me. You can't even tell him I'm here! Please, I know this might seem strange, but whatever you do, you mustn't let my -” She paused, as if she'd just caught herself in time before saying something she shouldn't. “Baron Le Compte mustn't know anything about me,” she added. “I'm nothing to do with that horrible Quill man, I'm here for quite another reason. You just have to accept that I'm telling you the truth.”

  “We'll see about that. Why don't you try telling me why I should oblige you?”

  “Because -” Pausing, she suddenly seemed shocked by something she saw in Benjamin's face. “Oh, you look so much like him. It's astonishing, but poor Jonathan really... Oh, she always said the resemblance was uncanny, but it's one thing to hear those words and quite another to see it for oneself...”

  He waited for her to finish. “Jonathan?” he asked finally. “Who the hell is Jonathan?”

  “You'll see,” she replied, “or...” For a moment, she seemed too shocked to speak, until slowly tears filled her eyes. “You're Benjamin, aren't you? Benjamin Wood?”

  “You still haven't told me your name.”

  “And I shan't.”

  “It wouldn't happen to be Elspeth, would it?”

  “I -” Pausing, the girl seemed shocked for a moment, before reaching up and touching the necklace she was wearing, which contained her name engraved in silver. “You're very observant.”

  “So, Elspeth,” Benjamin continued, taking a step closer. “Why don't you start by telling me who you are and what you're doing here? After all, Thaxos is an island, so people don't tend to just show up without any warning.”

  She shook her head.

  “Then I guess Edgar will have to tear the truth out of you,” he added, grabbing her arm. “You'd be better off talking to me, but if you refuse, I'll take you to him. I should warn you, though, he's not in a good mood tonight, and if he thinks for one moment that you're lying to him, he'll -”

  “I'm quite used to his bad moods.”

  “Then if -”

  “Is Kate Langley here?” she asked suddenly.

  “Kate?” He paused. “How do you know Kate?”

  “Oh...” Again, she fell silent for a moment. It was as if she had so much to say, but was forcing herself to hold back.

  “Out with it,” he replied.

  “Maybe I've already said too much,” she whispered, taking a step back. “You must forget you ever saw me, and more than anything, you must not tell anyone that I was here, not a soul. Sebastian was right, I should have been so much more careful. Still, I don't think too much damage can have been caused.”

  “Wait -”

  Before he could finish, the girl turned and ran, disappearing through the sea of dancing figures and then racing into the shadows beyond the edge of the garden, heading out into the darkness that surrounded the house.

  III

  “Kate?” Estella said as she stood in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

  Sitting up on the sofa, Kate seemed cautious for a moment.

  “Nixon has gone to find Madeleine,” Estella continued, making her way across the room. “He said you weren't feeling too well, I do hope that's not the case.”

  “It's just some random pains I've been having lately,” Kate told her. “My belly, my chest, my head... I saw Doctor Lassiter about them, but he had no idea what's going on.”

  “And Nixon didn't make any suggestions?”

  Shaking her head, Kate got to her feet, although she let out a faint gasp. “It's over for now. Whatever's going on, I think it's passed.”

  “I'm sure it won't happen again,” Estella replied, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I have a very good feeling about it. There'll be no more of those strange pains.”

  “I hope you're right,” Kate muttered, still wincing. “Did Nixon tell you what's going on?”

  “He said we have an unwelcome visitor,” Estella continued. “I just hope he and Madeleine know what to do.”

  ***

  “Madeleine?” Nixon called out, knocking on the door and waiting for a moment. “Are you in there?”

  Silence.

  Pushing the door open, he peered into the darkened room. For a moment, he thought there was no-one around, but just as he was about to leave he spotted a figure slumped on the floor, over in the shadows by the bed. As soon as he saw her, he realized something was wrong.

  “Madeleine!” he shouted, racing over and dropping to his knees, before reaching down and gently tilting her face so he could see her features. “Madeleine, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

  He waited for a response, but she seemed to be unconscious. Patting the side of her face, he found that she was completely unresponsive.

  “Madeleine,” he continued, checking for a pulse before leaning down and listening to her chest. “What the hell's going on here?” he muttered, checking her pulse again. “Madeleine, you -”

  Suddenly her eyes flicked open and she stared up at him with a strange, blank expression. Having known her for so long, he could immediately tell that she wasn't her usual self, and there was something about the way she looked at him that seemed strangely unnerving.

  “Thank God,” he said, trying to push his concerns to the back of his mind, “I was starting to worry. Finding a pulse on a vampire isn't easy in the best of circumstances, but -” He paused, as he began to realize that something was wrong after all, that her gaze was strangely empty of its usual qualities. “Madeleine, talk to me. What happened, why are you on the floor like this?” He waited again, but still she seemed unable to respond. “Madeleine, just try to focus and remember what happened. I can help you, but first I need to know what's wrong!”

  Her lips began to move, but only the faintest of whispers emerged.

  “Come on,” he continued, forcing a smile, “you can do better than that. What's going on?”

  She paused, and a hint of pain seemed to fill her eyes.

  “Right,” Nixon said, scooping her up and carrying her to the bed, before setting her down and starting to check her body for injuries. “You don't seem to be hurt. Madeleine, did someone come to your room and do something?” Again he waited for a response, but she still seemed to be almost catatonic, as if she barely even knew he was speaking to her. “Madeleine, has Quillian been here? Just nod or give me a one-word answer.”

  She stared at him for a moment, before turning to look toward the door.

  “Madeleine, focus,” he said firmly, putting a hand on the side of her face and tilting her head back to face him again. “It's me! It's James Nixon. You remember me, don't you? The silly old werewolf who hangs around in the mansion and doesn't really do very much? Come on, Madeleine, I just need to you to tell me what's wrong. You're really starting to worry me here.”

  “I saw him,” she whispered, her voice tense with fear.

  “Who? Quillian?”

  “Not just him. I saw... I saw... Eyes.”

  “You saw Quillian's eyes?”

  She paused, before slowly shaking her head.

  “Madeleine, you're really starting to scare me. What are you talking about? Whose eyes did you see?”

  “They always said,” she continued, her voice barely raised above a hushed whisper, “that anyone who looked...” She paused again, as if the effort of speaking was too great. “He was here,” she added finally, suddenly sitting up as if panic was starting to grip her soul. “He was right here, he was right in front of me. I saw his burning eyes!”

  “Who are you talking about?” Nixon asked. “Madeleine -”

  “I can still feel them now,” she added, reaching up and putting her hands on her face. “I can feel them burning into me, trying to burrow into my soul like...” She paused again. “I have to get them out!”

  “Madeleine -”

  Suddenly she began to push her fingers into her eyes, as if s
he was trying to dig them out of their sockets.

  “Stop!” Nixon shouted, pulling her hands away. “Madeleine, what are you -”

  “Get them out!” she screamed, pushing him back and then stumbling off the bed, racing toward the fireplace.

  Getting to his feet, Nixon ran after her and arrived just in time to pull the fire-poker from her hands.

  “Madeleine, what the -”

  “Get them out!” she shouted again, with tears running down her face as her whole body began to shake with rage. She struggled to get free of Nixon's grip, but he held her tightly and began to drag her back across the room. “You don't understand!” she screamed. “I saw his eyes!”

  “You mean Quillian, don't you?” he continued, wrapping his arms around her from behind as he struggled to keep her from breaking loose. “If not him, then -” He paused for a moment, as a hint of pure shock began to enter his eyes. “Madeleine, who -”

  Before he could finish, she turned and screamed, pushing him back down against the floor and starting to batter him with her fists. He tried to push her back, but fury was driving her on and finally she pulled away and ran back to the fireplace, grabbing the fire-poker and turning to him again.

  “Okay,” Nixon said, trying to stay calm as he got to his feet. Holding his hands up, he began to step closer. “Madeleine, I think I'm starting to understand what happened. Quillian was in your room, wasn't he? And he... Clearly he wasn't alone. The eyes you saw -”

  “Have you ever seen them?” she asked.

  “No, Madeleine, of course I haven't. No-one has, at least not for a very long time. Ashalla... You're talking about Ashalla, aren't you?”

  “He's real,” she replied. “He lives.”