The Messenger: A Novel

by Burke, Jan

  “You’re saying Wraith won’t defend me because—because—” She broke off, revolted by the idea of speaking to Adrian on the subject of making love with Tyler, even to mislead him about what had actually taken place—or not taken place—between them.

  “If Tyler had not taken…liberties, shall we say?…with you until after you had taken on your destiny, I would be a bit more vulnerable to you than I am now. But because he couldn’t control his lust, happily that problem doesn’t arise. In that act of lust, he bound you to both himself and to me. You might say we are relatives of a sort, and I’m protected from you. And vice versa.”

  Mentally she thanked Tyler and the ghosts with all her heart. To make certain she understood these ground rules, though, she said, “Explain that further, please.”

  “Tyler and I have a sort of blood relation, one might say. And so as much as Shade might be tempted to attack me, he won’t. Tyler himself can only do limited harm to me—as I can only do limited harm to him.”

  She looked at Tyler’s still and bloodied form. “You call that limited?”

  “He isn’t dead, is he? You are as unfinished, my dear, as…well, as I am at present,” he said, holding up his claws. “Your incomplete nature is simply less visible than mine.”

  “Let me guess,” Amanda said. “You’ve got a plan for you and me to complete each other?”

  The insect eyes blinked with a clicking sound. “Tell me, Amanda, how would you like to be very, very wealthy?”

  “I already am.”

  “Oh, but you’re a pauper compared with me.” When she said nothing, he went on. “Let me put it to you another way. You have something of mine, and I want it back.”

  “You gave it away at Waterloo.”

  “So he told you that tale, did he?”

  “And more.”

  He considered her for a long moment, his eyelids clicking again as he blinked. The sound unnerved her. She had edged even farther along the table, nearly to Tyler’s feet, when suddenly her own foot struck some sort of metal object. She glanced down and saw that stacks of metal cans and jars—potions of some kind, no doubt—were stored beneath the table.

  She looked at Wraith, who was watching her intently, and in that moment Amanda felt as if she and the dog were in perfect communion. Wraith’s face opened in a doggy grin, and seconds later, just long enough for Amanda to grasp the manacle on Tyler’s right ankle, the dog crashed into a stack of cans.

  The noise startled Adrian, who tottered back on his thin legs, nearly losing his balance.

  “Stop it! Stop that dog!” he shouted, all his attention on Wraith.

  Amanda stuck the key in the lock and turned it, even as she shouted to Wraith to come to her. She left the manacle in place, hoping Adrian would not immediately notice that it was now loose.

  She moved to Tyler’s other ankle, bending down as if to try to catch the dog, and Wraith, with beautiful timing, covered the sound of the second lock giving way by crashing into a stack of jars, shattering them.

  “No! No!” Adrian cried. “Damn that dog! My herbs! My potions! Daniel, get over here!”

  But Daniel was having nothing to do with dogs. Shade stood and leaped from the table, eager to join in the game. Amanda began shouting would-be commands, relieved to see that the dogs knew to ignore her. Daniel’s fearful cries were added to Adrian’s angry ones.

  She couldn’t have asked for a better distraction. The two large dogs—chasing each other in and out from under the table and around the cellar, knocking into metal cans, breaking glass, and barking sharply—provided enough mayhem to prevent Adrian from being aware of Amanda’s work on the manacles.

  When she finished, she managed to get the dogs’ attention and brought them to her side. She then began apologizing to Adrian, and under the guise of trying to clean up the mess, attempted to distract him from Tyler.

  He had no reason to suspect she had a key, she realized. Where had it come from? She glanced at Daniel, but he studiously avoided looking at her.

  Adrian was in a towering rage. She suddenly realized that despite his fury, he had never aimed his deadly claws at the dogs. Just as the dogs were prevented from attacking him, perhaps he was prevented from attacking the dogs.

  Shade returned to Tyler’s side, but Wraith stayed with her. The items that had spilled from the canisters and jars were a mixture of pleasant (herbs and dried flowers) and disgusting (dried insects and amphibians, as well as some items she’d just as soon not identify).

  But in this mood, Adrian was all the more dangerous to Tyler. Years of dealing with Rebecca’s temper had taught Amanda the trick of distraction. As soon as he took a breath to continue his tirade, she asked, “Do you have a broom?”

  He fell silent, eyelids clicking.

  “I’ll not have my future wife sweeping floors! Daniel! Come here and clean up. For the last time, the dogs have been commanded not to harm you. Quit acting the coward or I’ll give you something to fear!”

  Daniel sidled over, then said meekly, “Your lordship, you’ve never asked me to clean in here before…”

  “You’ll find a broom and dustpan in the corner closet, behind my desk. Be quick about it.”

  Amanda heard Tyler moan, and sought a new distraction. “You store some weird—um, unusual things in here. And what’s this?”

  Adrian moved awkwardly to the end of the table. “Cement.”

  “What a shame the bag broke open.”

  “All the easier to use it,” Adrian said. “Now, let’s talk about that ring.”

  55

  Let me walk out of here with Tyler, and it’s all yours.”

  He stared, eyes clicking. “No.”

  “Why not? The ring is what you’ve wanted, right?”

  “Yes, but you see, what I plan to do with the ring is to—how can I put this delicately?—take back certain powers I loaned to Tyler. He’ll be just like any other man then. Do you see the problem?”

  He’s not like any other man, immortal or not, she thought. But aloud she said, “Not exactly. Explain it to me.”

  “You, my dear, will stay young, and he’ll age and die. You may tell yourself that you’ll love him no matter what, but believe me, there are few things less attractive to a young woman than an amorous old man.”

  “But I won’t really be young, will I?”

  “You’ll find a man who can retain his youthful appearance to be of greater interest. I will become that man.”

  “I can’t imagine that, just now. I mean—I can’t even figure out how you breathe without a nose.”

  “Can’t you?” he asked, staring at her in his unnerving way.

  “Well, I suppose you breathe the way an insect does, perhaps through some sort of openings in your torso?”

  “Yes, although I have the ability to breathe through my mouth as well. A dual system, for the moment. And you’ve confirmed, Amanda, that you are not as stupid as you seem to try to make me believe you are.”

  She gave a start, because her parents suddenly appeared on either side of him. Shade growled, but to Amanda’s ears, it was a rather halfhearted growl.

  “What is it?” Adrian asked nervously.

  He’s an insect, she told herself. Think of him as an insect. Aloud she said, “It’s cold in here—don’t you think? Doesn’t the cold slow insects down?”

  An instant later, the temperature of the basement dropped.

  “You—you’ve summoned spirits of some sort!”

  “Really, it has never been a matter of summoning my parents.”

  “Ghosts—!” Daniel said, dropping the broom and backing away.

  Adrian straightened. “Pay them no heed, Daniel. The dead can’t harm the living, for all they enjoy frightening them.”

  Amanda said, “They can harm your kind, I’m told.”

  “I advise you to take care, young lady. I would prefer a long-term companion in the years to come, but not at any price. Believe me, I’ve made do with temporary company from women. T
hat would be preferable to living with a shrew.”

  His stare was so hostile this time, she found herself taking another step back.

  Amanda saw her father move to Tyler’s side, and saw that Tyler’s eyes were open. Her father gestured silence, and to her surprise Tyler seemed to be able to see him. Tyler glanced at Amanda, then as Adrian turned toward him, feigned unconsciousness.

  Her mother, she saw, was pointing to a desk behind Adrian. No—to an object below the desk. A knife.

  “Now,” Adrian said, unaware of the movements of the ghosts, “I believe I shall have that ring, and leave our courtship for a later hour.”

  Suddenly he dropped to the floor, and she discovered that cold or no, Adrian down on all fours could move much faster than Adrian tottering upright. She screamed and tried to run, but took no more than two strides before he grabbed hold of her ankle. Horrified, she tried to kick him away, but he knocked her down. She fell hard, hitting her head as she hit the ground, and lay stunned for a moment as he crawled up over her.

  He pinned her beneath his weight, holding her arms in his sharp claws, and she turned her face aside just in time to avoid his slime-covered lips from descending on hers. His kiss landed on her cheek instead, and he laughed as she tried uselessly to throw him off. She heard the sound of chains giving way across the room. Wraith circled them fretfully but did not attack Adrian. Beneath her, shards of pottery cut through her clothes and pierced her skin, and all around her desiccated frogs and salamanders covered the floor.

  They were nothing to the horror above her, though. Adrian’s torso, covered in hard shell-like segments, like those of a lobster, cut into her as he pressed her against the floor.

  She became aware of a movement above her—Tyler had risen from the table. His arms locked around Adrian’s throat. He pulled mercilessly, trying to force Adrian to free her.

  Adrian growled in anger, but she could feel no lessening of his strength.

  “He doesn’t breathe through his throat!” she shouted, realizing Tyler would never choke him in this way. Adrian rewarded her by pulling her right hand up and biting the ring off her hand, finger and all.

  She screamed, even as Adrian released her. Tyler let go of Adrian’s throat, grabbed Daniel’s fallen broom, and used the broomstick to deliver a series of powerful blows to Adrian’s head. Dazed, Adrian turned his attention to Tyler.

  Amanda cradled her injured hand and ran toward the desk, where her mother’s ghost waited. Daniel came rushing toward her, and she shrank back, then saw that he was standing guard over her, ready to use himself as a shield between Adrian and her.

  She scrambled beneath the desk and felt for the knife with her left hand, her fingers curling around the handle just as Adrian grabbed the broomstick in a claw and broke it into splinters. He lunged after Tyler, but Shade caused him to stumble, allowing Tyler to dodge just in time to avoid the snapping claws.

  Adrian cursed the dog, then said, “I’ve got the ring, Tyler! And your lover’s finger as well. Delicious!”

  “Amanda, Daniel, leave while you can!” Tyler said.

  “Utterly useless to think you can protect them, or that I won’t find them if they run,” Adrian said, grinning in delight. “You know that in a matter of moments, I’ll be able to kill you once and for all.”

  “You’re still mortal, Adrian. The ring was false. Can’t you feel the truth of what I say to you?”

  Adrian’s smile faltered. “It can’t be true,” he said. “I felt its power!”

  “Really? Do you feel that power within yourself now?”

  As he asked this, Tyler reached for a chair and threw it at Adrian. Adrian turned to the side to deflect the blow, and the chair smashed into the shell-like segments that made up his torso. Adrian screamed as one of the segments cracked, revealing a set of openings in his side.

  Spiracles—the openings insects need to breathe, Amanda thought. Adrian was neither fully human nor insect, but—She saw a bag of cement, and whispered to Daniel, “Help me,” and gave him brief instructions. She discovered, to her surprise, that her right hand was no longer bleeding, and that it was not painful to hold the weapon with her remaining fingers.

  Adrian rushed toward Tyler. Tyler fended him off with the fallen chair, using it to shield himself from Adrian’s claws. But Adrian was succeeding in breaking off pieces of the chair with each new onslaught.

  Amanda slit the bag of cement with the knife, and Daniel lifted it. She could see he had little confidence in her plan, and she didn’t blame him.

  “Now!” she shouted, and they rushed toward Adrian.

  Adrian, all his attention on Tyler, didn’t see them approach. Amanda carefully aimed the knife and stabbed into one of the spiracles even as Daniel dumped the cement over Adrian, aiming it for his torso.

  It raised a dust cloud in the confined space that caused them all to cough. Adrian got the worst of it, though. As the dust entered the openings through which he breathed, Adrian began trying to draw breath through his mouth, wheezing and choking. Amanda used the knife again—this time to cut off one of his claws.

  Again he screamed and turned on her.

  Aiming to stab her throat, his remaining claw hooked on the chain around her neck and, as he tried to pull free, broke it.

  Rings spilled free.

  “You! You bitch from hell!” In a fury, he stabbed his remaining claw through her chest, then turned to chase down the rings, which were rolling in every direction.

  The knife fell to the floor as she reached over her heart. She felt warm blood streaming over her hand just before she collapsed. Wraith quickly lay beside her.

  With a cry of anguish Tyler picked up the knife, turned, and slashed the blade across Adrian’s neck, nearly cutting his head off. Adrian rolled onto his back, his remaining legs and arm waving weakly before he fell still.

  Tyler ran to Amanda and lifted her into his arms.

  “No,” he said. “Please, God, no—”

  I’m dying. Tyler.

  “Amanda, no—” He began to weep.

  Sorry, my love, at this point it’s not up to me.

  “Oh, God, no. Please don’t die. Please don’t.”

  I’d rather not go, if you want the truth. Not just yet. I want a life with you. I can have one, you know, if you don’t mind sharing yours.

  “Then take my life. I’ll gladly give mine in exchange!”

  No good. If you want me around, you’ve got to stay around, too, I’m afraid. At least that’s the way they’ve explained it to me.

  “They?”

  Look around the room. It’s getting crowded in here.

  He looked up to see Amanda’s parents and another couple from the photo he had seen—her aunt and uncle. They were joined by others—Harry Williams, Benecia Wright, Horace Dillon, and the ghosts of a dozen more began drawing closer. Familiar faces—some recent, some from long ago—appeared. It was Private Makin who stepped forward.

  Hallo, there, Captain! We’d have brought the others, but it was decided a delegation would be best, given the limited space and all. I’m going to be brief, on account of—well, time being what it is for the living.

  You passed a little test, you might say, by not being selfish about handing off your duties to Amanda. Showed you loved her. That’s a good thing. That said, your time’s actually not quite up yet. You want to live it alone, no problem. You want her to wander the earth waiting for you to show up—’cause that’s what will happen to her—no problem. But if you don’t mind having a partner—we’ve asked her, and she’d like to stay with you, for however long your lives last, and how long that may be is nothing we have any say over.

  As for all of us, we’re just here to tell you to trust yourself. You’ve always done right by us, and we know you’ll do right by her. Oh, and—every last one of us thanks you, whatever you decide.

  In the next instant, they were gone.

  “Do you—do you truly want to stay with me, Amanda?”

  Without a
doubt.

  “Then, oh yes, I want you at my side.” He paused, looking slightly panic-stricken. “I’ve never, um…saved anyone. I don’t know what to do next.”

  If you don’t mind, ask Wraith to stand up—she’s been protecting the ring by lying on it. And, Tyler? Better hurry.

  Her skin was cold and her breathing had stopped. He turned to the dog, but Wraith was already coming to her feet, and Tyler saw the ring—the ring he knew to be the true ring. He picked it up and carefully placed it on Amanda’s left ring finger.

  Wraith exhaled softly on her face, and Tyler felt her warm beneath his hands. She was breathing again, and he could feel her pulse. A moment later, her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled sleepily at him. He could feel the fever just starting to take hold of her.

  He was about to kiss her and tell her that he was going to take her home, when Daniel said, “Captain Hawthorne, sir—help.”

  They looked over to see him doubled over in pain—and a legion of spiders coming down the stairs.

  56

  Adrian is causing this,” Tyler said. “He’s trying to revive. He must be trying to control Daniel as well.”

  Amanda looked up at him and smiled. “Here’s where all that sleeping on the floor is going to pay off.”

  He thought the fever must have her further in its grip than he imagined, but she turned to Wraith and said, “Now.”

  Wraith eagerly leaped onto Adrian’s carcass and bit into what remained of his neck. Adrian burst into fire, although the dog was untouched by the flames. A moment later, Adrian disintegrated without a trace.

  The spiders on the staircase halted their march, bumped into one another in confusion, then began to scurry back up the stairs as if they couldn’t wait to be away from the place.

  Daniel remained curled up in a ball, shaking as both Shade and Wraith approached him next. The dogs merely breathed on him, then went back to their masters.