These Vengeful Souls

by Tarun Shanker

  “No, I am. You don’t need to apologize for anything,” I told her, managing the same gentle firmness that I used with Sebastian.

  She shook her head. “I … the whole time Dr. Beck and Mr. Hale and Camille held me captive, not a moment went by when I didn’t dream about going home.”

  “Not a moment went by that I wasn’t dreaming you were back,” I said.

  “And when I finally get back and I finally see our parents,” she said, shivering. I didn’t need to ask where this was going. “I ruined everything.”

  I stared at her, wondering if I misheard. Maybe I did need to ask. “Rose, how … how can you say that? You are the last person to blame. You were with me at the ball. You saw what I chose.”

  “A choice my power made for you.”

  My stomach sank; everything was so muddled up. First Sebastian holds himself responsible, now her. Her tears were beginning to spill over now, and she wiped them away with her sleeve.

  “He turned all our powers off, yours included,” I argued, getting up to kneel by her bed, taking her hand in mine. “That’s how he was able to hurt you without any remorse.”

  “It was off at the moment,” she said. “But I don’t think that removes years of lingering effects.”

  “There were also years of loving you without any power, long before it developed as we got older. You’re my sister.”

  “And they were our parents. And friends.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she wasn’t bothering to wipe them away anymore. “Why else would you pick me over so many?”

  Because I didn’t believe Captain Goode would do it. Because I hoped someone would save us at the last minute. Because I was selfish and couldn’t bear to lose her again.

  There were plenty of reasons. Too many. And even if there weren’t, this long and complicated chain of fault still traced back to me. I brought Sebastian and Rose back. I put them in the Society’s path. The fact that they blamed themselves for my mistakes only ground my heart to smaller pieces.

  I closed my eyes, feeling the familiar guilt and the grief rising inside me, filling my lungs. That same heaviness from the days after I lost Rose. That darkness that rendered every direction indistinguishable. That raw sensitivity across my entire body. The feeling that the only way I could stand the pain was to never move again. Back then, I had family. I had guidance. Mae had experienced the same loss and managed to keep living. Miss Grey gave us a hopeful and selfless purpose, despite all the horrors she had suffered. Even my parents, at the very least, helped me find my bearings by serving as a reminder of what not to do.

  But now they were all dead.

  I hugged Rose tightly and climbed up to my feet, thinking, breathing, refusing to let myself sink into those depths again.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  The one thing that gave me a clear sense of direction. “Figuring out how to kill Captain Goode.”

  Chapter Five

  GIVEN THE INHERENT pleasantness of Mrs. Tuffins and her boarding house, not much could be done to render Mr. Adeoti’s room intimidating beyond closing the drapes and restraining him to a chair. Even so, I didn’t expect such a pleasant greeting from our prisoner.

  “There you are. Hello!” Mr. Adeoti said when the door opened. His eyes were bright, alert, and very eager.

  “Yes … here we are,” I managed to respond.

  Catherine went to the windows to let some light in, while Mr. Kent pulled Mr. Adeoti’s chair into the center of the bedroom. They joined Sebastian, Miss Chen, Rose, and me in a stern-faced circle around the tracker.

  “Now, Mr. Adeoti,” Mr. Kent said ominously, “we have some questions for you.”

  “Thank heavens, finally!” Mr. Adeoti said.

  “I…” Mr. Kent paused and gestured to Mr. Adeoti’s restraints. “You do realize you are our prisoner, yes?”

  Mr. Adeoti replied that he did.

  “Then … why are you happy?”

  “Captain Goode made you sound very threatening,” Mr. Adeoti replied. “But you don’t seem dangerous at all.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Mr. Kent asked, cracking the knuckles on his metal hand.

  “Yes.” Mr. Adeoti smiled. Upon seeing our silent frowns, he stopped smiling. After a fraction of a second, he smiled again. “Yes, I am sure. I read the restraints Miss Chen used.”

  Our circle couldn’t help but glance at Miss Chen in confusion.

  She kept her gaze on him. “Ask him about his power.”

  “What is your power, Mr. Adeoti?” Mr. Kent asked.

  “Oh, it’s called psychometry,” he answered. “It’s how I track people. If I touch an object that a powered person has touched, I can experience some of the memories they had while they were making contact with it.”

  “So when we tied his hands for the ride,” Miss Chen said quietly, “I used fabric from my dress to show him how miserable our last three days have been.”

  “I’ve tried to help people leave the Society myself,” Mr. Adeoti explained with exasperation. “But no one ever trusts me because of my power. They think I’m a spy for Captain Goode. But you can get the truth from me. Please, ask me all my secrets!”

  Again, our circle couldn’t find the words. Most of our interrogations led to vicious arguments and angry answers. Not pleas for more questions.

  Mr. Kent finally sighed and cleared his throat, giving up his intimidation game. “You don’t want to hurt, capture, or kill us?”

  “I don’t. I swear it.”

  “Then why are you following his orders?”

  “If I don’t, he forces me to record the history of the Society’s weapons for the library.”

  “That … doesn’t sound so terrible,” Catherine put in.

  Mr. Adeoti shuddered. “Normally, I can only see a week into an object’s past, but when he enhances my power, it gets rather … overwhelming. I can see much further back and the most powerful memories come first and … I can practically feel them myself. Sometimes they can be moments of love and happiness, but when it’s a weapon, it’s usually quite the opposite. One never gets used to it.”

  “Why didn’t you run away?”

  “They could recruit another psychometer like myself, or a dreamer like Miss Grey, and find me anywhere and ruin whatever life I create. So I decided to stay and work against them subtly, by tracking people too slowly or pretending to lose their trail.”

  “Are there other psychometers?” Mr. Kent asked.

  “No, I’ve been the only one,” Mr. Adeoti said.

  “Then is there no one else with a power that can track us?” Catherine asked, her eyes bright. Mr. Kent repeated the question.

  “As far as I know, there isn’t.”

  I could feel the entire room latching onto that information. There were a few glances in Rose’s direction. Sebastian looked at me with a resigned expression that hurt more than a pleading one. But he knew it as well as I did. There was a reason we stayed in London. Even if we weren’t being followed, we had to stop Captain Goode.

  “What are Captain Goode’s plans for tomorrow?” I asked.

  “I don’t know much,” Mr. Adeoti said, sounding more apologetic than he really needed to. “He only gave orders to those involved.”

  “Then what do you know about it?” Mr. Kent asked.

  “The Queen is planning to address the murders at the recent ball. They are going to launch an attack during her speech tomorrow.”

  The room went still. So that was Goode’s big plan. He got his revenge against everyone who wronged him. He took over the Society. He got the power he wanted. And now all he can think of is to kill the Queen?

  “Since no one wants to say it, I will,” Mr. Kent said, breaking the silence. “I think the Queen can defend herself, and it’s presumptuous and condescending of us to plan to swoop in and rescue her.”

  “Right, we’ve got to consider her feelings,” Miss Chen said. “And the feelings of her guards.”

  “The target ma
y not even be the Queen,” Catherine said, ignoring the quipping. “There’ll be plenty of other influential people there. The Police Commissioner, the Home Secretary, the Prime Minister.”

  “I’m sure one of them has a useful power for defending the Queen; there’s no need for us to get involved,” Mr. Kent suggested.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You still want to run away?” I asked.

  “We know for sure that no one will be able to follow us,” Miss Chen said.

  “And we also know for sure that people there are going to die. Probably all of them,” I said, receiving a few shocked glances. “Captain Goode wasn’t just angry with us at the ball. He was furious at Lady Atherton for using him. He couldn’t stand the idea of the aristocracy using powered people for their own gain.”

  “Evelyn, do you want your sister to get hurt?” Catherine asked. “Because that will happen if we stay.”

  “Miss Rosamund wanted to leave, too, as I recall,” Mr. Kent said.

  There it was again, all of us falling over ourselves to keep Rose safe. Making the same decision I had made at the ball, sacrificing others for her.

  “Stop,” Rose said. “Please stop it! Stop abandoning all common sense to protect me. It’s not fair.”

  “If anything, we’re being smarter,” Mr. Kent said. “Running is for our own safety, too.”

  “Then ask everyone what they would do if I were not here,” Rose said.

  “I don’t know if that’s necessary—”

  “Please!” Rose exclaimed. “Just … ask. I need to know.”

  “Very well,” Mr. Kent said, letting out a breath. “Miss Chen, if Miss Rosamund was not here, would you stay, or would you run?”

  “Stay,” Miss Chen answered, looking a bit perturbed by the truth. “Dammit, I didn’t think I would.”

  “Miss Harding, if Miss Rosamund was not here, would you stay or would you run?”

  “I would stay if the rest of you were,” she said, frowning.

  Mr. Kent continued around the circle and repeated the question for Sebastian.

  “Whichever Miss Wyndham would choose,” he answered.

  I didn’t know whether to feel guilty or relieved that he’d tied himself to me.

  “I want to stay, either way,” I said. “I will never feel safe knowing Captain Goode is out there. Even if it were about Rose, leaving doesn’t seem like the path to her or anyone else’s safety.”

  “And if anyone’s wondering about me,” Mr. Kent finished, “I’d probably make the heroic choice and stay.”

  Rose crossed her arms and clenched her jaw. “Then that’s what we’re doing.”

  “But the fact of the matter is, you are here,” Catherine said.

  “Swaying you with my power,” Rose argued. “I am well aware it doesn’t matter what I say. You’ll want to protect me however you think is best. But the best way is Evelyn’s. She’s right. It won’t be long before Captain Goode finds another teleporter or dreamer or psychometer, and it won’t matter if we’re halfway across the world.”

  No one had an argument against that. I couldn’t help but admire the way Rose circumvented the effects of her power to get everyone’s honest choice. Even when it might not have been the choice Rose wanted.

  “Do you know where we can find him right now?” I asked Mr. Adeoti. “Perhaps we can catch him unprepared.”

  Mr. Kent repeated the question reluctantly.

  “No,” Mr. Adeoti said. “I’m sorry.”

  “How did you find us?” I asked.

  “They sent us to the train stations and the docks to search for you. And when I’m near an object that has been touched recently, I can sense it. That’s what happened when I went past the ticket counter at Victoria Station where Mr. Kent bought the train tickets.”

  “Then why can’t you track Captain Goode?”

  “Gloves,” Miss Chen put in, hitting her forehead with her palm. “I should have told everyone to wear gloves.”

  “So he wears gloves and then you can’t track him?” Mr. Kent clarified.

  “That’s part of it,” Mr. Adeoti said. “And I wouldn’t know where to start. He appointed Miss Quinn to occupy his position at the Society of Aberrations building while he took over for the head. He sends his orders in now, but we don’t know where from.”

  “And everyone accepted that?” I asked.

  “He said that Mr. Braddock killed the previous head,” Mr. Adeoti said matter-of-factly. “And that the rest of you are traitors who want to destroy the Society, so he had to keep his location a secret.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, that’s absurd.”

  “Anyone who might question it has probably had their family or friends threatened,” Miss Chen reminded me. “If I were still there, I’d be tracking you, too.”

  “So we … threw an innocent man off the train,” I said.

  “The metal man?” Miss Chen asked, wearing a look of disgust that Mr. Adeoti shared. “No, he was always offering to make a statue garden out of England’s enemies for the Society. Don’t lose any sleep over him.”

  “I agree,” Mr. Kent said, holding up his metal hand as evidence.

  At that moment, there was a gentle knock at the door.

  “Yes?” I called out.

  The door opened, revealing Mrs. Tuffins, now wearing an apron that added yet another mismatched pattern to her ensemble. “I wanted to let you know the tea is ready downstairs,” she said.

  “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Tuffins. We’ll be right down,” I said, trying to tighten the space in the circle around Mr. Adeoti.

  It did absolutely nothing. “Hello, I don’t believe we were introduced earlier,” Mrs. Tuffins said, looking past me, all smiles.

  There was a loud squeak behind me, and I turned to find Mr. Adeoti rising to his feet, the chair still bound to his hands behind him.

  He gave a short, hunched bow. “Joseph Adeoti. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance and be your guest. You have a lovely home.”

  “Oh, how nice; my, what a kind group of young people,” Mrs. Tuffins said with a warm smile, finding absolutely nothing wrong with a man so attached to his seat. “I will see you downstairs.”

  She closed the door on her way out.

  “Was that invitation for me? I would love to have tea,” Mr. Adeoti said. He smiled again to reveal his dimples. “If you still don’t trust me, I can come down like this. Then you wouldn’t have to find me an extra chair.”

  “Have you been telling the truth since we came in here?” Mr. Kent asked.

  “Yes,” Mr. Adeoti answered.

  “Are you planning to betray us to Captain Goode or anyone else?”

  “Heavens no.”

  “What would you do if we untied you?”

  “I would do my best research to help end the Society and prevent you from dying against Captain Goode because your powers are horribly outmatched.”

  “I … thank you. That … would be appreciated, I think,” I said.

  “No, no, it’s perfect! He won’t be expecting any sort of challenge from you!” Mr. Adeoti said with an encouraging smile as Miss Chen stepped behind him and tore his restraints.

  “Well, I guess there’s no need for this intimidating hand anymore,” Mr. Kent said. “Miss Wyndham, would you mind sorting this healing out? It’s getting dreadfully heavy.”

  Sebastian stepped just outside of the room as I put my hand onto Mr. Kent’s metal one.

  “Oh, that won’t work at all,” Mr. Adeoti said.

  Mr. Kent chuckled until he saw Mr. Adeoti’s serious face. “Truly?”

  “Yes, as far as I know.”

  “And how far is that?”

  “From the Society of Aberrations library,” Mr. Adeoti said. “I’ve read most of the information about powers, and there’s nothing about healing metal back to flesh.”

  “Nothing yet,” Mr. Kent insisted, watching his hand intently. “I have faith in Miss Wyndham’s power.”

  “I’m glad one of
us does,” I said, feeling the cold steel. “Nothing seems to be happening.”

  Mr. Kent took his hand out from my hold and clunked it against a chair in exasperation. “So in order to reverse this, I have to find that metal man and persuade him to turn it back?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Adeoti answered.

  “There’s no other way?”

  “I don’t believe so, but perhaps we could find a way to ask—”

  “What if Captain Goode were to shut off our powers?”

  “That wouldn’t change anything that’s already been done to you.”

  “Could Camille transform it back?”

  “Oh yes, she’s quite powerful!” Mr. Adeoti said hopefully. “A little scary, though. It might be possible.”

  “She’s dead,” I reminded them.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, everyone’s dead,” Mr. Kent groaned.

  “I think there is one way,” Mr. Adeoti suggested. “Given the powers available to you.”

  “What is it?”

  “Miss Chen could shatter your hand up to where the metal ends, and perhaps Miss Wyndham’s healing power can regrow it. There isn’t a recorded example of a full hand being grown back, but fingers have been restored. Heads can’t be regrown, though. So we’ll be able to learn more about where the limits of Miss Wyndham’s capabilities lie, too, which is very fun!” Mr. Adeoti gave an optimistic grin.

  Mr. Kent looked at his hand. Then me. Then back at his hand. “Well, looks like I’ll be living with this forever.”

  “Oh no! Don’t be alarmed,” Mr. Adeoti said. “Fingers are closer to hands, so if I had to guess, it would grow back—”

  “I like my hand very much,” Mr. Kent interrupted. “It’s my third-favorite body part and first and second would not be appropriate replacements. I’d rather not rely on a guess. Now, who wants some tea?”

  After everything we’d been through, we all did.

  Downstairs, our tea was a peaceful scene of domestic bliss. Mrs. Tuffins joined us in the sunlit parlor and distracted Laura and Emily with the simple activity of needlepoint, giving guidance with a motherly warmth. For the rest of us, she supplied soothing tea, delicious cakes, and happily mundane stories of her previous boarders. It was almost enough to forget about the world outside for a little while.