by Amy Cross
Anna nodded.
“M'am,” Jacob said, returning to the kitchen, “I regret to inform you that the horses and the carriage are not available. I can only surmise that His Lordship has taken them, since his riding boots are also missing. I'm afraid he didn't inform me that he was going out, so I cannot say where he has gone.”
“Edgar took the carriage?” Estella paused for a moment, as she felt a sense of blind panic rising through her belly. “And Kate Langley is nowhere to be found,” she whispered. “I wonder what those two are up to...”
“M'am,” Jacob continued, “if -”
“I shall just have to take the child on foot,” she replied, getting to her feet, and turning to him. “When Edgar returns, tell him I have gone to town and I shall not be back for a few hours. If he does not like this fact, tell him from me that there is nothing he can do about it and he will simply have to stew. And if he asks why I have gone to town, tell him the truth. And make sure he knows that I am aware of his whereabouts this evening, and that I shall have questions for him when I get back.”
“But M'am -”
“That is all, Jacob,” she added firmly. “Oh, but you must find not only my winter coat, but also something for the child. We must both be kept warm on the long walk to town.”
“Are you...” Jacob paused for a moment, before finally realizing that there was nothing more he could say to change her mind. “Very good, M'am. I shall have the garments waiting for you at the main door.”
“Isn't this going to be fun?” Estella continued, turning to look down at Anna before reaching out a gloved hand for her to take. “Did you hear that, child? You and I are going for a lovely walk! Why, by the time we reach town I'm sure we'll be the best of friends!”
III
“There used to be a door here,” Kate said as she felt her way to the end of the passageway. Feeling the step beneath her feet, she cautiously made her way into the dark chamber, although she couldn't see anything expect pitch darkness up ahead. “I swear, there was a door...”
“Perhaps I shall install one,” he replied as he followed. “It would seem prudent to secure this place.”
Turning, Kate saw Edgar's silhouette behind her, with a hint of light just about visible from the entrance to the tunnel.
“This is extraordinary,” he continued, stepping past her. “I know you can't see much right now, Kate, but I see it all. There is a room here, with wooden panels and...” He paused. “In the center, there appears to be an altar. It's clear that this place was created by some kind of religious order, although they must have been here many, many centuries ago. We're finally seeing something from the distant past of Thaxos.”
“There's something in the altar,” Kate told him.
“There is?”
He made his way across the room and began to examine the altar for a moment, before taking hold of its sides, as if he was intent on forcing it open.
“You need keys to get inside,” she continued. “There's no -”
“No key seems to be required,” he told her as he slid the altar's lid away. “Perhaps that too is something that will be added later.” He looked down into the altar for a moment, but there was nothing inside the space. “I see nothing here at the moment,” he explained. “What exactly did you expect to find in here?”
“There should be a -” Pausing, she realized that the creature clearly wasn't in place yet, and she thought back to everything Nixon had once told her about Edgar's long-lost love and the fact that he'd used the altar as a place to store her damaged body. “I don't know if I should say,” she told him finally. “Some things should probably just be allowed to play themselves out naturally.”
“Do you not think I can be trusted to deal with any information you might give me?”
“It's not that,” she replied, not wanting to admit the truth. “It's more... I'm sorry, Edgar, I'm just not going to tell you anything unless it's strictly necessary.”
“And you don't fear that I might force you?”
“No, I don't.”
She watched as he examined the other sides of the altar, running his hands across the rough stone, before finally he turned to her.
“Fascinating,” he said after a moment.
“What is?”
“Do you have a tattoo on your ankle?”
Reaching down, she realized that one leg of her jeans had risen up slightly, exposing her small rose tattoo. “You really do have good eyesight in the dark, don't you?” she replied, tucking the leg back down to keep the tattoo from his gaze.
“The only people I know with tattoos,” he continued, “are soldiers.”
“I'm not a soldier.”
“Then explain the -”
“I'd rather not.”
“Another piece of information about the future that you think might be dangerous?”
“It's just something personal.”
“You said there are images carved into the wood,” he continued, making his way across the chamber. “I see no carvings.”
“They're everywhere,” she replied, fumbling through the darkness until she suddenly felt his shoulder. Turning, she ran her hands across the panels, only to find that they were completely smooth. Making her way carefully to the next panel, she found the same again. “That doesn't make sense,” she said after a moment. “All these panels should be covered in carved images.”
“Perhaps that is yet another thing that has not happened at this juncture,” Edgar pointed out.
“Did you hear that?” she asked, turning suddenly as she heard a brief clicking sound.
“It came from the far side of the room,” Edgar replied, his eyes searching the darkness.
“Do you see anything?”
“Nothing.” He paused. “I'm sure we don't need to worry. Perhaps, by disturbing the chamber, we have changed the pressure a little and invited a small degree of structural resettling. Such things are not impossible, you know, given the vast weight of the stones above us.”
“There's another entrance,” she replied, feeling her way along the wall. “I know you said it's impossible, but I swear there's a tunnel that runs from this chamber all the way to the basement of your house.”
“Absolutely not,” Edgar told her. “I'm willing to accept the possibility that this chamber could have existed for some time without my family having become aware of it, but a passageway connecting it to the mansion... Such a thing is impossible.”
“And I'm telling you,” Kate continued, “it's definitely -” She stopped as she reached the spot where the door should stand, only to find that there was yet another wooden panel. “It's not here,” she added finally. “I swear, it was right where I'm standing. I went through it once, I was with Alice and Didi.”
“Who are Alice and Didi?” Edgar asked.
“Alice is a girl from the town and Didi is...” She paused for a moment. “You don't want to know.”
“Someone from my future, I assume.”
“Yeah, and... Well, enjoy discovering that one all on your own.”
“So we're left with one clear fact,” Edgar continued. “At some point over the next one hundred years, a passageway will be dug that connects this chamber to my home. Perhaps it's something I will commission as a result of this very conversation, and the same goes for the carvings on the wall. Still...” He paused. “I do not entirely understand such a circular pattern of logic. If I decide right now not to create any of these things, it stands to reason that the future will be changed and they will not exist. And yet, if they do not exist, you will not be able to tell me of them, and I shall make no decision.”
“Unless you're not the one who creates them,” Kate pointed out.
“I think we can assume that no-one else on this island is capable of such a thing,” he replied. “We shall try an experiment. I swear, Kate, upon my honor that I will create no such carvings, and that I will not have a passageway dug. Now we must wait and see if by making such a decision, I alter not onl
y the development of the future, but also your memories of things that are yet to happen.”
Kate paused for a moment. “Well, I still remember them so far.”
“It might take longer for things to be rearranged.”
“That's dumb,” she replied, before realizing that perhaps she should use slightly more diplomatic terms. “I mean, that's... I don't think it's quite so simple. Whatever you decide right now, Edgar, those carvings will get made, and that passageway will be constructed.”
“Not by me,” he told her, “and I can assure you that no-one else could be responsible. In fact, I shall erect a door to keep everyone else out of this place, if the -”
As a scratching sound was heard nearby, they both turned and looked across the chamber.
“Do you see anything?” Kate asked. “That wasn't any kind of structural settling, there's something down here with us.”
“There's nothing,” he replied, “but you're right, it sounds as if -”
Before he could finish, something fell against them both, almost knocking them to the ground. Turning, Kate was just in time to spot a shape racing along the tunnel and heading out of the chamber, and for a fraction of a second she caught sight of its silhouette and saw a small body with a set of long, trailing limbs.
“What the hell was that?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Edgar replied, clearly shaken. “I didn't see it, and the scent is unfamiliar.”
“I saw it,” Kate told him, taking a step forward. “Its outline, anyway. It was alive, whatever it was, and it just ran out of here.”
As Edgar took off to give chase, Kate fumbled around the edge of the chamber until she reached the entrance tunnel, at which point she began to make her way out. By the time she reached the entrance and emerged into the long grass, she saw Edgar standing nearby, looking around in all directions as pale blue moonlight bathed the island.
“Where did it go?” she asked.
“It appears to have vanished.”
“It wasn't human,” she continued breathlessly. “Edgar, I saw its outline just for a second, and whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn't human. It was too small, and the way it moved, something wasn't right.”
“It didn't go down there with us either,” he replied, making his way back to the entrance for a moment, his face picked out by the light of the moon.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Whatever it was,” he continued, turning to her, “it must have been sealed down in that chamber all this time. And it would seem that we just let it escape.”
***
“There you are!” Nixon said, hurrying across the hallway with a glass of champagne in his right hand. “Wherever have you been all evening?”
Stopping at the foot of the stairs, Madeline turned to him.
“I say,” Nixon continued, “are you alright? You look like you've been -”
“Go to hell,” she snapped back at him.
“Well that's uncalled for, isn't it? I just -”
Snatching the champagne flute from his hand, and spilling half of it in the process, Madeleine downed the rest and then dropped the flute, letting it smash against the floor.
“More,” she said after a moment, a little out of breath. “I want more. Where's my darling brother?”
“Edgar's gone walkabouts, I'm afraid,” Nixon replied. “It would seem that he and Kate Langley took the horse and carriage and headed out for some kind of late-night gallivant. God alone knows what they're doing, but it certainly put the fear of God into Estella, she's been cannoning around the house all night like a woman possessed. Well, not literally possessed, although I suppose such things can never entirely be ruled out, not around here.” He paused, as the sound of music continued to drift through from the distant ballroom. “It does rather seem,” he added finally, “that all hell has been breaking loose tonight. It's all been very eventful, even for one of Edgar's parties.”
He waited for her to reply, but she seemed preoccupied, as if something was taking up her thoughts.
“How long have we known one another?” he asked finally.
“Far too long,” she sneered.
“You can't talk to Edgar about personal matters,” he continued, “and you certainly can't talk to Estella, so really...” He paused again, keenly aware that she seemed to be on the verge of tears. “You need to talk to someone, Madeleine, and for better or for worse, it would seem that I'm the only available option. Bad luck, old bean, but you know I won't judge you, and I hope you also know that I won't go running off to tell Edgar what you say. Trust me, it might seem unlikely but perhaps I can put your mind at ease.”
He waited again, but she simply stared down at the bottom of the stairs, as if sheer fury was threatening to overwhelm her soul.
“Madeleine?” he added. “I really might be able to help.”
Turning to him, she seemed undecided for a moment. “Have you ever loved someone, Nixon?” she asked finally. “I mean real, true love, the kind that terrifies you and makes you feel that you can't even be yourself without that other person?”
“Crikey, that sounds a little dramatic.”
“You've never felt that?”
“Love? Well, I'm not really sure...”
“And have you ever had to push such a person away because you knew that it was the only way to keep them safe?”
He paused for a moment. “I don't think I have, no. I have read some of the Russian masters, though. Tolstoy, Pushkin, they wrote about that kind of thing a little.”
“Do you know how it feels,” she continued, her voice trembling with emotion, “to say the most awful things to the love of your life, to watch his heart break right in front of you... And to know that this is just how things have to be, because the alternative would be too horrific?”
“That seems rather pessimistic,” he replied. “Would you like a brandy?”
“He'd die,” she whispered, as tears began to run down her cheeks. “He's such a good man, such an honest man, and our love for one another is absolutely true, but I had to push him away because otherwise my brother would...” She paused for a moment. “I had to break his heart,” she added finally. “It was the only way to ensure that he stays away forever. I hope he hates me now. I hope he hates me so much, he doesn't even notice the pain. I had to choose between them, James, but is it really a choice when you know the misery that will follow if you take one particular path?”
“Steady on,” Nixon said after a moment. “Did all of this happen tonight? I thought you were only gone a few hours.”
“You don't understand.”
“No,” he replied, “I don't think I do.”
“Have you really never loved anyone?”
“I suppose I just haven't been fortunate yet,” he continued. “I haven't had that stroke of luck. Maybe one day, eh?”
“Luck?” she sneered. “Fortune? Trust me, Nixon, for once I actually envy you. There's no place for love in this house, and I was a fool to think it could last. At least this way, he can move on with his life and not keep pining over me. I did him a favor tonight. I love him, and I did the only thing that -” Before she could finish, she broke down crying, finally sitting on the steps and putting her hands over her face.
“Right,” Nixon said with a frown. “So you're rather upset about all of this, are you?”
He waited, but she continued to sob.
“Well...” He paused, before reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. “Never mind, old thing. I'm sure you'll start to feel better in the morning -”
“Don't touch me!” she hissed, getting to her feet and grabbing a piece of the broken champagne flute before pushing Nixon against the wall. “If you tell another soul about anything I told you just now, I will kill you, do you understand?” She ran the broken glass against the side of his neck, pushing against the skin until it seemed as if it must soon tear. “I don't know how to kill a werewolf, exactly, but I swear I will find a way!”
&
nbsp; “Not necessary,” he replied, clearly shocked. “My lips are sealed.”
With tears running down her face, she stared at him for a moment before taking a step back. As music continued to drift along from the ballroom, she turned to look over at the corridor.
“How much longer must this wretched party last?” she sneered.
“I don't know. Only Edgar can make it all stop.”
“And he's off running around with Kate Langley, I suppose. Leaving the rest of us to deal with this nightmare.”
“Madeleine -”
“I'm going to bed,” she replied, tossing the piece of broken glass aside. “I meant what I said, though. Breathe a word of this to anyone, and I will make you pay with your life. I'll tear that wolf out of your body, if necessary. I only wish I hadn't said anything at all, but you caught me in a rare moment of weakness. I hope you realize it will never happen again. From now on, I shall endeavor to be more like my brother.”
“I'm not sure that's -”
Ignoring him, Madeleine turned and ran up the stairs, leaving Nixon standing alone in the hallway.
“Huh,” he said finally, turning to make his way back toward the party. “Well that was all rather fraught.”
***
Slamming the door to her room, Madeleine immediately dropped to the floor and began to sob again. For several minutes, she continued to cry quietly in the darkness, before finally getting to her feet and wandering over to the window, though which she could see the moon high in the night sky.
After a moment, she realized she could also see hundreds of guests out on the patio, talking and dancing and laughing as they took a break from the dancing and sipped champagne near the fountain. Bathed in moonlight, and mostly wearing masks, they seemed so happy and care-free, and Madeleine had to fight the urge to go and rip off all their heads one by one.
“Forgive me, Benjamin,” she whispered, listening to the sound of laughter and music. Leaning forward, she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the window's cold glass, as more tears ran down her cheeks. “I did it for you, my love. I couldn't let Edgar hurt you, and at least this way -”