“Whatever is on her mind, she will say it to me directly.”
I put all my weight against that door to open it fully. He has no choice but to allow it, weak as he is. I care nothing for the frailty of his age. “I want to see her presently,” I say coming inside. It is terribly rude to simply barge into someone’s home uninvited. Then again, so is coercing one’s sister into an ill suited marriage.
“Of course,” Lafarge says. “I live but to serve.” A devil’s words. The door closes behind me with a resounding gong like a massive church bell. “I believe your sister is in the back parlor.”
I take that as an invitation to find my own way. The halls I pass through are filled with portraits looking down on me. The Lafarge mansion is not one tenth the size of the Beast’s castle, yet the maze-like passages make it seem endless. I call out Marguerite’s name again and again, getting more worried each time she does not answer.
“Marguerite, answer me! Where are you?”
At last I hear her reedy voice and hasten my footsteps to the parlor at the end of the hall. Only the hearth fire burns low to illuminate the room. My sister sits primly in a rocking chair which does not move. She is composed and dressed in a lovely violet gown but her hair is loose, falling in unruly waves to her waist and hiding one side of her face.
“Why are you here?” she asks in a brittle voice.
I draw nearer. “I received word that you are to be married. I had to see for myself.”
“You’ve seen me. It is true.” She smiles cruelly. “I’m to be married to a man of means. You can go back to your monster.”
“Is this truly what you want?” It cannot be. Everything about this place, about Lafarge and my sister is wrong. I don’t know what it is, but dread ties my insides into knots.
“It is,” Marguerite says. “I want you to leave. You are not welcome in this house.”
“Marguerite, I—”
“Go!” she shouts and her eyes glitter as her hands curl into fists in her lap. More softly, she adds, “For God’s sake, Lyssette, get out of here.”
I rush to her and take her face in my hands. She flinches and I brush her hair aside, gasping at the sight her face presents. Her eye is swollen nearly shut and a dark bruise mars her features from her temple to her chin. “My God, Marguerite…. Who did this to you?”
Marguerite’s tears spill down her cheeks. “It’s you he wants,” she whispers.
I do not waste time. Taking her hand, I pull her to her feet. “We’re leaving. Now.” Lafarge has not yet caught up to me. There is no telling what he is planning but I don’t intend to be here when he gets around to it.
The parlor, more of a gentleman’s smoking room, has no other door except the one I entered through. There are swords crossed above the hearth, too far for me to reach, but a pair of pistols gleams in an intricate case on the mantle. I know nothing of weapons; not even how to check if it is loaded. The weight of it in my hand comforts me, as it frightens me.
I lead the way out into the hall but cannot remember the way I came. I turn corner after corner, try every door I come to. The ones which are unlocked open onto more rooms with no other way out. Lafarge’s laughter echoes all around; it is impossible to tell where the sound is coming from. He is mocking us and Marguerite is already weeping with fright.
Just as I am about to lose hope, I open a door and see the garden through the windows. We will have to climb through them. I thank God they are low enough to the ground to do it. I help Marguerite through as quietly as possible and follow her outside.
The lightning has abated but the rain is still strong.
“Lyssette!” Lafarge’s furious roar is much louder than should be possible from a man of his constitution.
Marguerite cries out, her fingers digging painfully into my arm. “Lyssette, let’s go!”
But where? I look around and see nothing familiar. No one I know has ever come this far east of the village. Beyond the baker’s house, the land belongs to Lafarge and he is insistent upon his privacy. Now I can see why. Beyond the fields which make all farmers jealous, the land is dead and barren. The ground will not drink of the rain water and so it pools and floods.
There is nowhere to hide and too far to run for shelter. It would be too far to run to get out of sight; Lafarge would see us. “Stay behind me, Marguerite.”
“No,” she cries, pulling me away. “We need leave. We can outrun him!”
Perhaps, but where would we go? Where would he not find us?
“LYSSETTE!”
Marguerite screams. Lafarge is coming around from a side balcony and he has a musket in hand.
“You won’t get away from me again, Lyssette!”
Shock makes my arms numb and I nearly drop the pistol. It takes strength I do not feel to raise it. I pull back the flint lock, my hand shaking. “Stay back!”
“You belong to me!”
I close my eyes and pull the trigger. Nothing happens. My heart sinks. The pistol isn’t loaded.
Lafarge raises the musket to his shoulder. “You’ll stay here one way or another!”
Marguerite screams and runs. I pray she finds shelter; my own feet are rooted to the spot. Fear grips me and I cannot move, not even to duck for cover. The rain eases and I think I hear hoof beats. It is nothing but the hammering of my own heart.
“You abandoned me!”
I hear someone scream my name and my vision clears to take in more of what surrounds me, though I cannot believe what I am seeing. A dark rider approaches at a furious pace, a sword gleaming in his hand. Lafarge doesn’t see him. His arms shake as he levels his musket at me. The ground shakes at the rider’s approach; he is upon us.
His gleaming blade slashes down and Lafarge cries out. The musket drops from his grasp as the rider dismounts at full gallop, taking a stand between me and the weathered demon. Past his massive shoulders rising with each breath, I see Lafarge on the ground, his eyes wide as an owl. “Demon!” he screams.
My rescuer says not a word, though his hold on the sword tightens.
“Please,” I hear myself saying.
He tenses. “I should have killed you all those years ago,” he snarls and my legs nearly give way. Bastien? Impossible.
“It can’t be you!” Lafarge says. “My God… you haven’t aged a day…”
“And now you’d dare take what’s mine?”
“I… She belongs to me!”
Bastien rushes the old man.
“No!” I cry and to my shock, he stops. “Please, just take me away from here.”
He turns to me, his face a mask of fury. “I told you not to leave my castle,” he growls.
“Is that why you’re here? Because I disobeyed you?”
“You should have listened! You knew how mad he is and still you threw yourself right into his arms!”
Behind him I see movement. Lafarge! “Bastien!” I shout.
He dives for me. His arms squeeze me so tight it hurts and his body bows over me, shielding me completely. A shot from the musket deafens me. I feel the impact; hear Bastien’s breath explode from his chest. He holds me tight while my ears continue to ring.
Bastien’s groan of pain terrifies me. He shudders against me and his hold loosens. I am able to stand and turn to see him stagger away from me. Sword still in hand, he turns on Lafarge and stalks him on unsteady legs. Lightning strikes, illuminating his bloodied back. I hold back my cry, knowing instinctively that he cannot last much longer.
Lafarge scrambles away in retreat. He slips in the gathering mud and his moans of terror make me shake with fear. But I fear for Bastien more. Once again, the man I thought a monster raises his sword and brings it down on Lafarge, silencing his bleating cries.
Bastien releases the sword and stumbles back, turning unsteadily to face me. Tears blur my vision as I go to him. He breathes my named as his eyelids droop, and then he falls to his knees and collapses on the ground.
My own scream echoes across the night.
Chapter Eighteen
I drop to my knees next to him and cradle his head in my lap. The rain is abating now and by the light of the full moon I see his lips are deathly pale and the ground around us is soaking with his blood.
He is shaking, eyes closed against the softly falling rain. I lean over him to shield him. “Oh, God, Bastien… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
A small smile pulls on his mouth. “No. It was always meant to end this way.”
“W-what?”
Behind me Marguerite sobs. When she returned I cannot tell. All my attention is on Bastien. He coughs, a horrible sound. “One dies,” he says, “for the other to be free.”
“No!” I cry. “This is mad. Why should anyone have to die?”
“Part of… curse.”
I refuse to accept that. “Marguerite run. Take the mare, ride to the healer’s house. I don’t care what you must do but get him here.”
Wide eyed, she nods and runs.
“Too late,” Bastien says, his teeth chattering. “Getting cold.”
I lean over him more and rub his arms. “Of course you are. It’s freezing out here. That doesn’t mean you’re going to die.” I look around for something, anything, that will help me keep him warm. There is nothing. My cloak lays heavy and sodden over my shoulders. It would only cool him more. It is too far to the house, I cannot get him inside on my own.
He opens his eyes just a little. “I could almost believe you care for me.”
“Of course I care.” God, where is Marguerite?
“Maybe that’s enough. To keep me out of hell.”
“Stop it this instant! No more talk of death or hell. Marguerite will be back with the healer soon, you’ll see. And then you’ll feel very foolish for being so dramatic.”
He smiles again, one hand reaching up to brush my cheek. But he is too weak already to do it. I take his hand and press it to my cheek. It is cold as ice.
Bastien’s smile fades and his eyelids droop as the night fall silent. There is no more rain and the air is still as death. The starry sky above us steals what little warmth remains.
“Bastien?” I shake him. “Bastien!”
He gasps in a deep breath. His body expands, changes, grows. I’ve never seen magic like this. Where before his transformations have been harsh and painful, the one I am witnessing now is anything but. He changes smoothly, a thing not physical; transcendent. I can feel Bastien fading away until all that remains is the Beast. The weight of him is crushing but I dare not move or breathe.
I count my heartbeats, waiting for him to stir. One died. Would the other live? Would he want to? Bastien is gone forever. There will be no more full moon nights; no respite to humanity from his beastly form. Beast will never again be able to walk among people. The curse is broken, but not the way either of us wished it.
He rouses his brows drawing in a frown before he opens his eyes and blinks up at me. “Lyssette?”
I swallow back my grief. He is alive. I attempt a smile, though my sight blurs with tears. “H-how do you feel?”
The great beast groans and raises his head from my lap. He sits up and twists to kneel before me. He appears to be fully healed – but of course he would. Beast is not the one who was wounded. For the first time I can truly believe that they are …were not one and the same.
“I…” he paws at his shoulder and chest. There is no more wound to be found. I wait for his great sigh of relief but instead his shoulders sink as his eyes fill with despair. “Oh, Lyssette.”
“You’re alive,” I tell him. “The curse is broken.”
“I never wanted this,” he murmurs, unable to meet my gaze.
“You’re alive,” I tell him again, more strongly. “Nothing else matters.”
Beast cups my cheek gently, his fur rasping over my skin. “Of course it does,” he says. “The curse may have split me into two but my heart was always one and the same.” His great paw lowers. “We both loved you equally, though Bastien would never have said so. He would have made you the husband I never can. Of course that matters.”
My throat aches. I want to scream to the heavens, demand they right this wrong. I can’t bear to see my Beast suffer anymore. He’s held out hope for so long, and even in his moment of victory all happiness is stolen from him. He has nothing now.
No, that is a lie. He has something – me. “I swore to you I would never leave,” I tell him. “And I will stand by my word. No matter what.”
He sighs. “You will leave, Lyssette. You must. I deserved my curse – you did not. I…” He looks away. “I don’t want you coming back to the castle.”
I am rendered speechless by his words.
A chill wind makes me shiver. Beast rises to his full height, towering over me, and offers his paw. “You need to get inside. You’re freezing out here.” So was he a few moments ago. It is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do to raise my hand to his, mirroring his nonchalance. He helps me to my feet and I lean on him far more than I wish to while I regain my balance.
The wind tugs at my gown and hair. My teeth chatter and I cannot stop shaking. I will catch my death out here soon. But I cannot make myself draw nearer to Beasts warmth for I know that I will never be able to let go again.
Whilst I still can, I step back from him. I am weary, swaying on my feet. He reaches out to steady me but I hold my hand up to stay him. Pain flashes in his eyes. No more than I’ve felt for months.
In my exhaustion I imagine the world around me is changing. But when I look about, I see it is not my imagination. The wind doesn’t howl anymore as it did before; it whispers. Countless voices fly on a rush of air, their words hushed with secrecy and intrigue. I hear Bastien among them. I hear the Beast.
I hear a woman’s laughter and a voice so ethereal it banishes the cold of the night.
He hears them too. His eyes dart around, seeking the source.
The earth steams as it warms but I still shiver in my wet gown. There is light to see by, though it is still full night, the dawn hours away. Where is it coming from?
“Have you learned your lesson, lover?” that diaphanous voice hisses. The question echoes, rushing past us, between us; around us. I feel the Beast’s animosity. His snarl is vicious and bloodthirsty. “Has dying cured your apathy?”
More voices, laughter and cruel shouts which despite their malevolence still sound sweet as a lullaby. What are these creatures? The ground warms beneath my feet and miniscule blades of grass sprout around us.
“Lilith,” Beast growls.
The creature laughs, the sound so beautiful it pains my ears. Light blinds me and I shield my eyes against its glare. When it dims and night returns I blink at the female standing before me. She is tall and lithe, draped in silken robes which move like ocean waves. Her hair is like spun gold, glittering about her beautiful face and her eyes shimmer like stars, just as distant – just as cold. “Lover,” she purrs to my Beast. “It’s been so long. Three hundred years since the night you abandoned me. Do you regret it now, human? Do you wish you stayed in my… good graces?” She smoothes her hand down her breast and the silken dress becomes translucent.
Beast growls, baring his fangs. “You narcissistic bitch!”
The female clucks her tongue in censure. “Oh, now, that is a lovely bit of hypocrisy coming from you, Bastien. I remember how you loved those mirrors in my bower. I thought you wished to see me. But it was yourself you were so enamored with.”
He growls again. “I was a fool to ever think of you as a conquest.”
The princess smiles. “Yes, a fool to think you could ever win me.”
“A blind fool, seeing beauty in an empty shell,” he snaps.
The princess hisses.
Beast bares his teeth again, crouching low.
“Ah-ah,” she warns coldly. “I know what you’re thinking. And I would not advise it. You might not care for your life any longer but there is another you hold dear.” She circles me and I am frozen, unable to move or e
ven blink.
“Damn you, Lilith! Release her!”
Lilith laughs and tears leak from my eyes. “You’re in no position to make demands on me, Bastien,” she says coldly. “After all your trespasses against me you should show some respect. Perhaps some groveling would not be amiss.”
Roses bloom at my feet, long vines with sharp thorns winding upward around my legs. I feel them scraping my flesh. A single move will cause them to pierce my skin and I somehow know those barbs are poisonous. I dare not even breathe.
Beast’s gaze meets mine briefly, fear sparking in their depths, but it is replaced by rage as he once again looks upon the inhumanly beautiful female. “What bothers you more, princess?” he asks. “That I left you wanting in your bower, or that you’ve not found another since who could please you as well as I did?”
Lilith’s eyes spark fire. “You insolent cur! I should have turned you into a worm and stomped you into the ground you and your pathetic race crawled out of.” The vines tighten around me and a small sound escapes me.
Beast roars his fury.
“ENOUGH!” a voice booms. Both Beast and Lilith stop, as frozen as I.
All around me the wind whispers in hundreds of voices. “The Faery queen,” it says again and again. The grass at my feet blooms in dozens of hues, beautiful, fragrant flowers that dazzle the eye and dull the senses. I feel dreamlike, as though the world is swaying like a giant boat gently rocked on the sea.
“You’ve had your fun, Lilith,” the new voice – the Faery queen? – says. “You’ve punished the man long enough.”
“But Mother,” the princess grits out. She still cannot move.
“Silence! With your own words you worked the spell. It was your magic that bound him and yours again that released him. The curse was broken. You will change him back, daughter. And you will not meddle with human affairs again.”
“But Mother!”
Lightning strikes the princess, blinding me once more. When I open my eyes again Lilith is gone, I am free and… and…
Bastien is human! “What…”
He frowns. “Lyssette?” He looks down at himself and when his gaze lifts to mine again it is shocked, disbelieving.
The Beast Page 7
