by Amy Cross
“He died in the war. It's not even certain that he was real.”
“He was here tonight,” she continued. “Just for a moment, but he was here, and he...”
Nixon waited for her to finish the sentence. “Madeleine,” he said eventually, “I think you might be getting hysterical.”
“Burning red eyes,” she spat back at him, as more tears ran down her face. “It was as if he could peer straight into my soul, all the way through to the darker parts. I can still see those eyes now, burning in my mind. That's why I have to get rid of my eyes, Nixon. The longer they stay, the longer the memory of Ashalla's gaze will keep hurting me. It makes sense, it's the only way to start pushing him away” Raising the fire-poker, she stepped toward him. “Please don't try to stop me,” she sobbed. “Please, help me...”
“I can help you,” he told her, keeping his hands raised as he tried to judge when he could grab her again. “You need to stay calm, though. I'm absolutely certain that -”
“I can still feel him in my soul!” she shouted, stepping forward and swinging the poker at him, barely missing as he ducked out of the way. “He's still in my head! He's still pushing me and pushing me, trying to burn my sanity! I don't know how long I can stay strong!”
“I can help you!” Nixon shouted. “Madeleine, come on, you know me, you know I can figure out what to do!”
“It's my eyes,” she continued, as her hands began to tremble. “That's how he got into my soul, and that's how I have to get him out.”
“It doesn't work like that,” he told her. “Madeleine, Ashalla isn't here now! I don't doubt that you saw him, but it was most likely only for a few seconds. You need to stem the panic and accept my help, rather than letting this thing overwhelm you.”
“Haven't you heard what they always said about Ashalla?” she whimpered, raising the poker again. “Anyone who looks into his eyes will lose their mind forever.” She paused. “I looked into his eyes! I saw them, burning in front of me, and now my mind is falling apart! I can feel my thoughts starting to crumble, I can feel the dark madness spreading through my soul. Soon I won't even be myself anymore.” Sobbing, she took a step back. “I can't let this happen! I can't let him take my life like this!”
“We're -”
Ducking again, Nixon was just able to avoid the poker as Madeleine swung it at him. Trying to pull her down, he missed and stumbled, although he managed to get back up and turn to her before she could attack again.
“Just let me help you!” he shouted.
“No-one can help me.”
“Madeleine, I know things must seem hopeless right now, but I swear -”
“Not even Edgar can help me,” she continued, as she began once more to sob. “I saw Ashalla's eyes and now I'm doomed to a life of madness. There's nothing anyone can do to help me, there's no way it can be taken back.” She paused for a moment, staring into space as if she was imagining how things would be. “I don't want to live like that. I don't want to become some kind of barking freak, gibbering in the corner. I'd rather die than let that happen!”
“There's still hope for you,” Nixon replied. “Madeleine, this doesn't have to be the end.”
“I won't let him do this,” she whispered, slowly lowering the poker. “If I have to die, at least I can choose to have it happen now, and I can start by making sure Ashalla doesn't get any more of my soul. I won't shame my family by turning into a wreck, I have to -”
Lunging at her, Nixon tried to grab the poker, but he was a fraction of a second too late. Letting out a cry of pain, Madeleine swung the metal bar at him, hitting him on the side of the head and sending him crashing to the ground. She turned away, before hearing him gasping with pain. Turning to look back down at him, she stared in horror for a moment at the bloody gash on his forehead. For a moment she seemed horrified by what had happened, before a sense of calm resolve crossed her features.
“I'm sorry,” she told him, raising the poker again, “I just need to get you out of the way while I do what I have to do. It's nothing personal, it's just... It's just a matter of survival.” With that, she swung the poker back down, smashing it against the side of his head again and again, filled with fury until, finally, she stepped back and saw the bloody mess she'd made.
After a moment, she turned and staggered across the room, stopping when she reached the mirror.
“This is the only way,” she whispered, staring at her own reflection for a moment as if the sight was somehow horrifying. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, before raising the sharper end of the poker and placing it against her left eye. “This is the only way I can die with even an ounce of sanity left.” Closing her eyes for a moment, she realized she could still see the two vast eyes burning into her senses; opening her eyes again, she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the pain that was to come.
Slowly, she began to dig the poker into her left eyeball, until she forced the metal straight through her iris, sending blood flowing down her face.
IV
Watching from the darkness surrounding the party, the blonde-haired girl kept her eyes on the study's window, which allowed her a view of Kate.
“Isn't it wonderful?” said Anthony Pease as she sat nearby, taking the weight off his knees for a moment. “Bless Baron Le Compte, he treats us so well. I don't even remember what the days and nights were like before these parties.” He paused for a moment, seeming quite lost as he stared at the glittering gowns of a group of masked women. “I really don't remember, actually,” he continued with a frown. “Everything has started to become so hazy.”
“She's so beautiful,” Elspeth replied, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on Kate through the window.
“Something seems a little different tonight, though,” Pease continued. “I can't quite put my finger on it, but I feel as if the atmosphere is rather charged. It's almost as if there's an air of tension around the place, which isn't something one usually associates with Le Comptes parties, but... Oh, but I shouldn't complain, should I? Listen to me, sounding so utterly ungrateful. You simply mustn't tell anyone what I said.” He watched her for a moment, with a hint of suspicion. “Are you okay there? Are you sure you don't want to come a little further into the light?”
“I'm fine.”
“But...” Looking past her, he saw the dark figures that stood in the shadows, watching the party from a vantage point of darkness. “Don't you want to get away from those chaps?” he continued. “They're rather off-putting.” He watched for a moment as the shadowy figures maintained their silent vigil. “I never like seeing them,” he added. “I can't help wondering what they want. The way they just stand out there, watching the party from the darkness, is rather off-putting.”
She turned and looked at the dark figures for a moment.
“I belong as much to their world as to yours,” she whispered, lost in thought for a moment before turning back to Pease. “The great Baron Le Compte can be rather cruel sometimes, when it comes to those whose souls he collects. He gives great things to some, but unutterable cruelty to others. I recognize that side of him, even though he's -” Again, she caught herself just in time. “Well,” she added, “I just view him honestly, rather than as some kind of perfect figure.”
“I wouldn't know about that,” Pease continued, getting to his feet. “If you'll excuse me, I must find some more champagne. The night is young and I am old, and these days it takes a little more rocket fuel to keep me going. Still, something is definitely a little off tonight. I can feel it in my bones.”
He waited for a reply, but after realizing that Elspeth was focused solely on the window, he muttered something before turning and heading back toward the fountain.
“Oh mother,” Elspeth whispered, with tears in her eyes as she watched Kate turning and heading back across the room, “you and father both look so young tonight.”
***
“He's been gone too long,” Kate said, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. “I thought he just
went to find Madeleine?”
“He did, but...” Pausing, Estella seemed worried for a moment, although it was clear she was trying to stay calm and pretend that everything was okay. “You know what she's like, everything takes twice as long as it should. She's probably causing a whole load of unnecessary drama. Sometimes, I think that silly girl does these things on purpose.”
“Still...” Looking over at the door, she realized she couldn't just sit around waiting any longer. “I'm going to find out what's wrong.”
“Shouldn't we just stay here?” Estella asked, hurrying after her as Kate headed to the door. “Nixon told us to wait, remember? He told us to sit tight and that he'd be back soon. We should just follow his suggestion, shouldn't we?”
“Sometimes waiting's a mug's game,” Kate replied, looking along the dark corridor. “I don't know about you, Estella, but I've got a very, very bad feeling about all of this. First Madeleine didn't show up all evening, and now Nixon seems to have disappeared. I'm worried that if we wait in the study, we might just make it easier for Quillian to pick us off.”
“But we have to wait for Nixon to work out how to get Edgar back into the house!”
“Fine, Estella, then you sit around here and wait all night for someone else to come and fix things. I did that before, when I waited for Edgar to deal with Quill, and now Anna Kazakos is God-knows-where on the mainland. This time, I'm sick of waiting.” As she made her way along the corridor, she realized after a moment that Estella was hurrying after her. “I think we have to assume,” she continued as they reached the hallway, “that Madeleine and Nixon are out of the picture for now. Quill must have got to them.”
“But that means -”
“It means we're on our own,” she replied, turning to Estella. “It's just you and me. And Quill, obviously. We have to work out what he -”
“Why don't you ask me?” a voice called out from the darkness.
Looking up the stairs, Kate saw to her horror that Quill was standing at the very top, watching patiently with a calm smile on his face.
“What have you done to them?” she asked, stepping forward.
“Done? To whom am I supposed to have done anything?”
“Where are Madeleine and James Nixon?”
“Madeleine Le Compte is in her room,” Quill replied, “where I left her. As for Mr. Nixon, I have absolutely no idea where he can be found. Nor do I particularly care, since he's nothing more than a sniveling werewolf with a penchant for assisting the plans of child-killers. I have achieved what I came here to do. In fact, I was just about to leave.”
“What have you done to Madeleine?” Kate asked, hurrying up the stairs.
“Kate!” Estella hissed, holding back. “Don't get too close! He might be dangerous!”
“I simply arranged for an old friend to give her a new perspective,” Quill continued, as Kate reached the top of the stairs. “It must be very difficult for her, being a member of the Le Compte family and finding her viewpoint restricted by their staid ways. In fact, there was a time when I thought she was different, that she lacked the same dark soul as her brother, but now I see that they're cut from the same cloth. I had hoped that she might be grateful to me for popping by to help, but in truth, she rather seemed to fall to pieces.”
“You can't just walk in here and do whatever you want,” Kate told him.
“Can't I? Is someone going to stop me? Where is the master of the house, by the way?”
“You know damn well where he is. He's trapped outside.”
“So the barrier worked,” Quill replied with a smile. “I wasn't sure it would be effective, and the effort is so draining, but I only needed a short time here to complete my work. I'm certain Baron Le Compte will be rather distressed when he comes back and sees what has happened to his delightful sister. After all, she is the most important person in his world, so it's only fair that she should have been my first real target. Perhaps now, when he sees what has become of her, he will finally understand just one tenth of the pain I felt all those years ago when I walked through a nest of dead children and saw his handiwork.”
“What have you done to her?”
He smiled.
“I know you haven't killed her,” Kate continued, thinking back to when she'd first met Madeleine as a crazed, bandaged woman in a wheelchair.
“Killing people is so quick and easy,” Quill replied. “All that's left is shock and grief, and both of those fade with time. What I have done to Madeleine Le Compte is far, far more imaginative. If one wants to truly hurt someone, one must leave a wound that will never have a chance to heal.”
“What have you done?” Kate shouted, stepping toward him. “And where is Anna Kazakos?”
“Forget about the little girl. She's gone.”
“I'm going to find her,” Kate replied, taking another step forward as Quill backed toward the window. “Whatever you think you've achieved, I swear to God I'm going to undo it all.”
“Because you feel guilty?”
“Because -”
“Kate, be careful!” Estella called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“You should listen to your little friend,” Quill told Kate. “You're getting involved in something that's way above your head, Ms. Langley.”
“If you think I'm going to stand back and -”
“I hear that Le Compte has organized another of his parties,” Quill continued, stepping to one side. “It hadn't occurred to me that he could use that method to get a message into the house, but no matter, he's obviously rather resourceful. Still, it's a shame for him to be trapped outside his own event, don't you think? Perhaps I should simply lower the barrier. After all, it's getting late and I'm rather tired.”
“But if -”
Before she could finish, Kate saw that the light outside the window was suddenly clearer. Stepping over to take a look, she realized she could see the moon properly.
“I think he did it!” Estella called up to her. “I think the barrier's down!” Running to the door, she pushed it open and reached her hand out. “It is!”
“Where's Anna Kazakos?” Kate asked, taking another step toward Quill.
“Ease your mind, Ms. Langley.”
“Where is she?”
In the distance, raised voices could be heard.
“I believe Edgar is back in the building,” Quill continued, “and although there's a part of me that appreciates his new-found willingness to face me, there's another part that would prefer to retreat and work on the next part of my plan. Besides, if I killed Edgar tonight, he wouldn't be able to face the true horror of his sister's condition. I would rather like to watch as that horror turns to anger, and then anger turns to fury, and then finally he realizes that he has no-one to blame but himself.” Turning, he began to walk away.
“You're not going anywhere!” Kate shouted, grabbing his shoulder. “Where's -”
Before she could finish, Quill turned and pushed her back with such force that she fell against the window. As the glass shattered, she tried to grab onto the frame but it was too late: she tumbled through, out into the night air, as pieces of broken glass fell all around her.
“Kate!” Estella shouted, hurrying back to the foot of the stairs as she saw Kate disappearing from view. Making her way up the stairs, she reached the top just as Quill pushed past her.
“Have a nice evening, witch,” he sneered. “I do hope your wedding won't be affected by any of this.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, turning to watch as he hurried down the stairs. “Why would my wedding be affected?”
“It's tomorrow, isn't it?” he asked. “Or since we're past midnight, it's technically today.”
“Of course it is,” she stammered. “Edgar and I love each other, neither of us would ever let anything stand in the way of our love.” She paused. “Why... Why would you even doubt that?”
“Oh, no reason,” he replied, stopping to glance at her, “but if you should ever find yourself in ne
ed of an ally, Ms. Graves, do come and look me up. I think, in time, we could find some common ground.”
“Estella!” Kate shouted suddenly, from the window.
“Go and save your friend,” Quill added with a smile. “If, indeed, she is your friend. I hope, for your sake, that you make the right choice.”
As Quill hurried away, Estella made her way to the window and leaned out. To her shock, she saw that Kate had managed to hold onto the ledge and was hanging high above the stone driveway below.
“Help me!” Kate gasped, struggling to hold on as she tried desperately to reach up. As she got her hand onto the edge of the broken window, her fingers slipped against a jagged piece of broken glass, cutting the skin and sending a trickle of blood down to her wrist. “Estella, please...”
“He's gone,” Estella replied, looking over her shoulder just in time to see Quill heading out through the main door. “It's over, at least for now...”
“Estella,” Kate continued, trying but failing to haul herself up. “Please...”
“Edgar's on his way, I think,” Estella continued, looking down at Kate's hand. “He'll be here any moment.”
“I'm going to fall!”
“I know, but...” Pausing, Estella seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Kate, I...”
“You have to help me!” Kate shouted, trying once again to climb up. “I'm losing my grip!”
“Well...” Estella paused again. “We're all losing our grip in one way or another, aren't we?”
“Estella! Help me! I'm going to fall!”
***
“Where's my daughter?” Jennifer shouted, rushing toward Edgar as he stormed through the doors that led into the ballroom. “You have to help me find my -”
“I don't give a damn about your daughter,” he replied, pushing her out of the way with such force that she almost fell.
“Where is she?” she shouted.
“We'll find her,” Adam said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Don't worry, somehow we'll get her back, even without his help.”
