These Vengeful Souls

by Tarun Shanker

  “The little lady!”

  Which was ridiculous. I wasn’t little at all.

  And less and less a lady.

  I threw myself at them again, this time with dagger fan in hand. The blade sliced deep into an arm, and the smaller man recoiled back in surprise. “She stabbed me!”

  “It … it was a stab to help you!” I argued back.

  Ignoring my poor reasoning, the other policeman pulled out his club to strike me, but Sebastian slammed his shoulder into the man’s gut, throwing them both off balance.

  My hand found Sebastian’s jacket, and I pulled him to me. “Run.”

  And run we did, a whole five steps.

  “Stop there!” A huge policeman stepped out from an alleyway, triumphantly blocking our path. He held up a policeman’s club, but it was his sheer bulk and his eager crouch that bothered me more. Sebastian and I were both dazed and weary from the fight, little sleep, and less food, while the policeman looked ready to pounce. I doubted we could slip by him. I doubted even more that Sebastian wanted to risk hurting him.

  “Harrison!” The other two officers were back on their feet, trapping us from the other side.

  “See, I told you it works. Wait off to the side and then catch them off guard!” Harrison smiled proudly at the other two. “They never suspect a third.”

  A gun cocked loudly behind the big policeman. “By God, you’re right; they never do.”

  A man appeared behind Harrison and pressed the muzzle into his head. He wore the most hideous hat I’d ever seen, a bushy mustache, and pince-nez. He didn’t look familiar, but that voice, equal parts silky and cutting, I’d recognize anywhere.

  “Mr.… Kent,” I managed to gasp out.

  “Mr. Lent,” he corrected with a pointed look. He pulled the policeman back into the alleyway. “Now, all of you come in here and join your friend.”

  Once we followed him in, he nudged his hostage forward with his gun. Harrison slipped past us and stood in front of his partners. They whispered something to one another.

  “I didn’t hear that,” Mr. Kent said. “What did you say?”

  “I said we could charge you at once because you can’t shoot all three of us,” Harrison admitted.

  “Oh Lord, why’d you tell him?” the mustached officer groaned.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Officers, let me tell you what you will do. One of you is going to come over here and gently uncuff this man, then you’ll let us be on our way, while you return to your station and tell your superior that a Captain Simon Goode is truly responsible for the Belgrave Ball.”

  “I liked my suggestion better,” Harrison replied.

  “But my suggestion doesn’t involve the three of you having your darkest secrets revealed to the public,” Mr. Kent said, waggling his eyebrows. They didn’t look convinced. Mr. Kent gestured to the stout officer. “You, what is your darkest secret?”

  “My father couldn’t afford to keep his bakery because he owed too much money, so I told him to purchase insurance for the shop, and then one night I got a barrel of kerosene by robbing a local factory owner who was—”

  “You committed arson and fraud, yes?” Mr. Kent interrupted.

  “Yes.”

  “All right, that’s plenty, thank you. Now come over here slowly and remove this man’s handcuffs.” Mr. Kent kept his gun on the officer as he meekly stepped forward and unlocked Sebastian’s restraints. Mr. Kent looked to the mustached officer. “And what is the abridged version of your darkest secret?”

  “I have been unfaithful to my wife,” he said, looking shocked and ashamed.

  “Fitz!” Harrison exclaimed. “How could you do that to Mary?”

  “I … It was a foolish mistake,” Fitz said remorsefully.

  “It certainly was,” Mr. Kent said. “I’ll do my best to make sure poor Mary doesn’t find out. Now you, tall one, what is your darkest secret?”

  “I once lied to a man and said his hat looked very good when in fact it did not.”

  “Oh Lord, you’re one of those,” Mr. Kent said, rolling his eyes. “Fine, what question would be the most damaging one to ask you?”

  “Which of my friends I like more,” the officer answered, his eyes nervously flitting to the other two officers.

  Mr. Kent let out a faint snort. “Good. Handcuff yourselves to one another and start walking toward the northwest corner of the park, and I won’t tear apart your friendship. Though, dammit, now I can’t help but be a little curious. I like that Fitz’s mustache but—”

  “Mr. Lent,” I said, backing away to our escape.

  “Fine, fine,” Mr. Kent said. He eyed the policemen threateningly. “But remember: Do what I said. Or Lent … will give you up.”

  He allowed a moment for the threat to sink in, then slipped the gun into his coat and turned on his heel to lead the way out.

  “Thank you, Mr. Kent,” I said.

  “I’ve been saving that one for you two,” he replied.

  “Truly,” I said. I wanted to tell him my thank-you was not for the horrible quip but for the rescue and for … well, being alive. I didn’t quite know how to say that.

  He seemed to figure it out anyway and gave me a sad sort of smile. The bravado fell from his face, and I could see the grief and exhaustion the last few days had wrought on him. “Of course.” He eyed us both for a long moment, lingering on Sebastian, then cutting to me. I nodded at his unasked questions: Yes, Sebastian was in a very bad way. No, I did not know how to snap him out of this.

  Except by murdering Captain Goode in thirty-six ways.

  “Come.” Mr. Kent clapped his hands together bracingly. He led us out of the alley to an idling carriage and opened the door for us.

  I shook my head. “No, we still have to wait for—”

  Rose.

  Chapter Two

  FOR A SECOND all I could make out were the essentials. Tired but clear blue eyes. A constellation of small freckles on the right cheek. A faint crease between the eyes. All the tiny little things that made up Rose.

  We stared at each other for a long moment, and mixed with pure relief was a hot flush of guilt. I closed my eyes and threw my arms around my sister, but I still saw everyone who had died so I could have her here with me. She returned the hug, but it somehow seemed a little less full, as though an essential bulk of her was missing, gone when we watched our parents die.

  I squeezed harder. “Thank heavens you’re all right,” I said, half-considering holding on forever. “You’re safe.”

  “And you,” her muffled voice came back. I released her and checked again to be entirely sure she wasn’t a figment of my rather active imagination. No, it was certainly her. She gave me a weak smile and quickly darted her eyes away, shifting the attention to Catherine.

  “Catherine did it all. She kept us safe and found the newspaper listing.”

  I scrambled into the carriage, pulling Sebastian after me and unleashing my hug upon Catherine next, crushing her spectacles into my neck. “Thank you for being your brilliant self.”

  “I’m just glad we saw the Agony Column listing,” she replied, but she was looking at Sebastian, who settled next to me, stiffly pushing himself into the corner as far away from the other carriage occupants as humanly possible.

  All of them were eyeing him, actually. Mr. Kent gestured at Catherine to shove over so it was the three of them on one side, Sebastian and me on the other. I made a show of grabbing his hand firmly and forcing them to meet my eyes. If I couldn’t even convince my friends of Sebastian’s innocence, we would have no chance against the rest of the world.

  In the tense silence, Mr. Kent reached up and tapped the carriage ceiling. We began to roll forward, and that’s when I noticed it wasn’t as full as it should have been.

  “Where is Laura? Emily? Miss Chen?” I asked. “Are they—”

  “They are safe,” Mr. Kent assured me. “I sent them ahead in a separate carriage in case something went wrong here.”

&
nbsp; “Sent them ahead where?” I asked. “Do you … already have a plan for Captain Goode?”

  Everyone in the carriage half looked at me with a sort of awkwardness, like there was something they didn’t want to tell me.

  Finally, Mr. Kent cleared his throat. “I sent them to the train station, Miss Wyndham. Our plan for Captain Goode is getting ourselves out of London and as far away as possible.”

  I stared at them, half expecting it to be a very strange joke. “But … we have to stop him.”

  Rose’s mouth puckered, and Catherine sighed.

  “We don’t know that he will do anything else,” Mr. Kent said.

  “Of course we do—”

  “The only thing we do know,” Rose said, her voice quivering a little, “is that he plans to find us.”

  My angry response died in my throat. His message on our home.

  “You saw it?” I asked.

  Rose and Catherine nodded at the same time, little jerks of their heads that made it clear they wished they had seen nothing.

  “The only smart option is to join Catherine’s aunt in Liverpool.” Mr. Kent looked so tired. But to run? Let Captain Goode live without paying for what he had done?

  “We are not running away from this murderous, evil … murderer!”

  “I did not suggest running. I told you, we are taking a train.” Mr. Kent’s poor attempt at a jest landed heavily, ignored by everyone.

  “Evelyn, it isn’t safe for us here.” Rose’s voice was thin with worry.

  “What would you want us to do if we stayed?” Catherine’s practical firmness felt somehow frustrating now.

  “We are going to kill him,” I said evenly. Just the thought of watching Captain Goode choke for air, begging for mercy and receiving none, eased some of the pain that threatened to bubble over into hysteria.

  The carriage’s occupants all frowned at my proclamation. Except Sebastian, who was staring out the window, not following along at all.

  “Lovely idea, but how are we going to do that?” Mr. Kent said.

  “Bare hands,” I offered blithely. That was my favorite on the list.

  “We don’t even know where he is,” Catherine pointed out in that annoyingly correct way.

  “We’ll follow the trail of bodies. There are only going to be more.” I turned to Rose, looking at her beseechingly. How were they all so calm? So ready to run with our tails tucked?

  “We don’t know that. And what about … him?” Rose did not—it seemed would not—look at Sebastian, but her meaning was clear.

  “He can borrow Mr. Kent’s disguise.” Really, why was everyone so focused on these trivial little things?

  “Evelyn, there are notices all over the city.” Catherine’s voice was beginning to grate.

  “So we will kill Captain Goode today and make sure the whole country knows it was he who killed our friends and family. Not Sebastian.” I glared at them to make the point clearer.

  “We all know it was not Mr. Braddock’s fault.” Surprisingly, that came from Mr. Kent, who was looking at Sebastian almost gently.

  Catherine nodded in agreement. “And we want to do everything to help.”

  “Exactly. And that means making Captain Goode pay. He is entirely responsible,” I continued evenly, ignoring the voice that told me this wasn’t quite truthful.

  No one seemed to guess, though.

  Except Rose, who knew the truth about that night. She looked down at her lap, avoiding my eyes. She knew what I had chosen. Whom I had chosen.

  London was flying by outside the windows, and I didn’t have long to persuade my friends to stay and fight.

  “What do you propose as the alternative? We simply leave and never come back?” Perhaps I could persuade them not to leave, rather than to stay.

  “My aunt can take us in until we decide what to do further,” Catherine said. “And if necessary—”

  “We cross the Atlantic and hide forever in America?” I scoffed.

  “No. We take a little bit of time to be rational,” Catherine answered, her eyes narrowing slightly as I challenged her admittedly sound plan.

  “We have to find a way to clear Sebastian’s name,” I tried again.

  “And we will. From a safe distance. In Liverpool,” Mr. Kent rebuffed me. Rose’s lips were drawn tight, and Catherine was still faintly glaring. I gestured at Sebastian.

  “How can you think to let Captain Goode blame Sebastian for this? If we don’t tell the world that a murderer used him entirely against his will, he will not get to have a normal life!”

  “No one is saying we leave forever!” Rose cried, looking at me pleadingly. And I so badly wanted to listen to her. Whether it was my sister’s power at work or just her deep unhappiness, I softened some.

  “I want to go.” Sebastian’s voice barely made it across the carriage.

  I snapped my head to him in surprise. His first words in three days. He still wasn’t looking at me or anyone else.

  “You want to leave?” Rose sounded as surprised as I felt.

  Sebastian nodded, his hair falling in front of his eyes.

  Mr. Kent stamped his cane a little, and Catherine’s hands clapped together briskly.

  “Good. Settled just in time. For we are here.”

  I searched for words as everyone piled out at Victoria Station, the bustling center that could take us anywhere. The last time I was here, I’d come from Bramhurst searching for Rose. Now, I had her back by my side at the cost of so many other people I loved.

  This felt so wrong, so terribly wrong to be leaving, but no one else seemed to agree. That Sebastian and Rose both wanted this … I swallowed my dread back. Maybe they just needed a day or two. Maybe I just needed to find the right argument.

  Mr. Kent paid our driver and gestured down the street. “The others should be just this way.”

  He hurried a little ways from the station, down a smaller adjacent street. A carriage waited there, curtains drawn. Mr. Kent gave it three rhythmic knocks and the door clicked open. Only when he saw the carriage occupants did his shoulders relax a little.

  Miss Chen was the first to step out. She looked paler than usual, but still calm. I would never guess just by looking at her that she had been through all the horrors of the past three days.

  “Miss Wyndham.” She nodded a little at me, her arm held stiffly in front of her. “If you wouldn’t mind, I very much need you to heal my arm.”

  I looked more closely. It was indeed held at a very strange angle, and I quickly took her hand, shaking my head. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

  She grimaced lightly. “I’ve been in worse pain. Not much worse, but some.”

  I let my power do its work before realizing it couldn’t.

  I turned to Sebastian, searching for the gentlest words. “Sebastian, I need to heal Miss Chen. Her arm is quite broken.”

  From the way Sebastian’s jaw tightened, it felt like I had told him I never wanted to see him again.

  “Do you think you could move away, just to the edge of our range? There’s no one behind you.” Catherine and Rose were helping the others down from the carriage.

  He looked to be sure I was right and took a deep breath before stepping back from us, counting the ten feet to make sure he stayed as close as possible.

  Miss Chen’s eyes caught mine for a quick moment, and finally I saw the pain she was carrying with her. Even though she hadn’t lost a parent or someone she loved that night, she still saw that madness fly around the ballroom—and had been a part of it, too. Captain Goode cut through her carefully held control and forced her to hurt people. That would be devastating, even for the strongest of us.

  “I’m sorry for … well, your losses. Both of yours.” She looked at the ground a little, clearly uncomfortable with expressing much. Or perhaps she simply was worried I might fall to pieces if she looked at me too long.

  “Thank you.” I felt odd accepting her condolences, but I gave her now-healed arm a light squeeze
.

  “Evelyn.” A mournful little voice came from behind Miss Chen. Laura was being held protectively underneath Emily’s arm. Her hair was lank and plastered to her cheeks. There was no light of fervor in her eyes as there should have been. She didn’t look to be scheming or full of impossible plans. A deep twinge pulled at my heart. The poor girl. Her parents were gone, too.

  And I had let Captain Goode do it.

  “Oh, Laura, I’m so glad to see you.” I wrapped her in a hug, holding her thin body to me. “I’m so, so sorry.” She seemed to muffle a sob, and I held on longer, eyeing Emily over her shoulder. Rose fussed at a bruise on Emily’s arm.

  “Emily, you are injured?” She shook her head but didn’t take her worried eyes off Laura. I took some comfort in knowing that Laura had not only her fierce older brother as a protector but her new friend as well. Rose shook her head a little at me, indicating that Emily was fine.

  “Here.” Mr. Kent tossed his hat to Sebastian, distracting him with the task of transferring his disguise. I walked back and took his hand, hoping it made him feel a little more comfortable.

  “Pull the hat down over your ears. Take the pince-nez, too. The mustache sticks on. Should last long enough to get on the train.” Mr. Kent didn’t quite catch Sebastian’s eye as he said it. But Sebastian raised no argument, not even to the hideous mustache. He just gingerly pressed it above his lip. It almost looked real.

  Catherine and Rose helped Laura and Emily into their coats as Mr. Kent paid the driver. The carriage clattered away, and we stood for a moment in a malformed circle, the silence between us anything but comfortable. My stomach sank again.

  Wrong, wrong—leaving like this is wrong.

  “It seems we’re all ready then,” Mr. Kent said with a decisive strike of his cane.

  I tried one last time. “Are you sure we shouldn’t stay and quickly kill Captain—”

  “No, off we go.” Mr. Kent cut me off and headed toward the station, the others following.

  “This is truly what you wish to do?” I asked Sebastian as we lingered behind.