by Amy Cross
“Please,” he gasped, as a hint of blue began to shade his face. “Don't...”
“I need to know what it's like to kill a man,” she continued. “Not by accident, not in a moment of fury, but in a moment of pure, cold-blooded calculation. I need that strength in my soul, and you, Joshua Wood, are just the kind of pitiful wretch I can get rid of without anyone caring too much.”
Reaching out to her, he tried to grab hold of her waist, but she stepped back.
“I need to know this feeling,” she told him. “Try to understand. I've held back for so long, but I need to know what I can achieve. I have such strong powers, but unless my human side is strong too, I'll always be limited, so I need to know if I can do this.”
“No,” he gasped, reaching out again. “I'll... anything...”
“Goodbye,” she whispered.
“Please -”
Before he could finish, his head suddenly snapped to one side and then to the other with a loud, sickening crunch. His eyes widened and bulged slightly, before his body fell limp and he collapsed to the ground.
For a few minutes, Estella stood in absolute silence, simply staring down at Joshua's lifeless body. She was waiting for some moment of realization, or for some profound understanding to flood into her soul, or to feel great strength in her heart, but none of those things happened. Instead, a light breeze simply blew in from the sea, sending a chill through her chest as the wet dress clung to her bare skin. Still, she waited for some great transformation, before finally realizing that no such thing would come to her.
“I can kill,” she whispered finally, stepping forward and using her bare foot to roll Joshua's body over. She looked down at his wide-open eyes. “I can kill,” she said again, before turning to look up at Edgar's mansion and finally feeling a sense of warm strength starting to blossom in her chest. “It's time to do what I should have done a long time ago.”
***
After slipping back to her father's house and changing into a clean dress, Estella finally reached the mansion once night had fallen. She could see lights in the windows, and as she stopped at the top of the path and watched for a moment, she saw figures moving inside the house.
No matter.
She knew what she had to do.
Revenge would taste so good, especially now that she had the strength had needed. Quillian had been right, she'd needed to practice on a lesser mortal first. Now that she knew she could kill in cold blood, she could focus on the task at hand.
She made her way across the garden and past the fountain, preferring to approach via one of the doors to the rear rather than knocking on the main door. The last thing she wanted was the formality of waiting for Jacob to answer, and then having to explain her purpose. When she reached the doors that led into the ballroom, she found that they were locked, but whereas once she had allowed herself to be kept out of the house, this time she would let nothing get in her way. Reaching down, she took hold of the handle once again and focused on forcing the bolt across, and a moment later she heard a faint click.
With a smile, she turned the handle and stepped inside. Immediately, she noticed the familiar scent of Edgar's mansion, and for a moment she felt as if nothing had changed since her previous visit.
In the distance, she could hear voices. Madeleine was talking to someone, and she sounded excited. Making her way through into the corridor, Estella headed toward the study, and finally she looked through and saw to her surprise that Madeleine and Benjamin were on the sofa, leafing through a series of books.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Madeleine asked, getting to her feet.
“Benjamin,” Estella said with a cautious frown. “You're alive.”
“No thanks to my brother,” he replied. “How did you know? Have you spoken to him?”
“I'm just glad that you're okay,” she told him. “I was worried.”
“It's none of your business,” Madeleine said firmly, stepping toward her. “Thanks for your concern, Estella, but you're not welcome here. Besides, Edgar's not home.”
“I know. It's not Edgar I've come to see.”
“Then what do you want?”
Estella paused for a moment. “Where's Kate?”
“Kate? Why, what do you want with her?”
“That's a private matter,” Estella replied, feeling as if whereas she would once had held back from taking such a confrontational tone, now she had more confidence. “You can't stop me, Madeleine, so you might as well just tell me where I can find her.”
“This is the house of the Le Comptes,” Madeleine reminded her, stepping closer. “You're not a Le Compte, so you don't get to give orders. You get to leave.”
“I'd rather not argue with you,” Estella replied, forcing herself to stay calm. “My business here tonight is with Kate and Kate alone.”
“Tough,” Madeleine said firmly, “if you -”
Before she could finish, two metal fire-pokers rushed up from the fireplace and swung wildly through the air, stopping on either side of Estella's shoulders.
“Did you do that?” Madeleine asked, clearly shocked.
“I see that your eyes are finally starting to grow back,” Estella replied. “I'm sure you'd rather not have another encounter that damages them and sets your progress back.”
“I guess you're getting better at controlling your powers,” Madeleine muttered. “That doesn't mean -”
“Don't test me,” Estella said darkly. “This is not a fight you need to take on, Madeleine. Simply direct me to Kate and I can be on my way.”
“What do you want with her?”
Estella paused. “Closure.”
“Not in my house,” Madeleine replied, stepping toward her before suddenly the two fire-pokers swung toward her, forming a cross in the air and barring her way. “Seriously?” she asked, “you want to play rough? You might have picked up a few tricks, Estella, but that's all they are, they won't help you when things get tough.”
“Where's Kate?” Estella continued. “I want to see her right now.”
“She's here,” Nixon said suddenly.
Turning, Estella saw him standing in the doorway, holding Kate's limp, motionless body in his arms.
“What's wrong with her?” she asked, taking a step forward and, in the process, letting the fire-pokers drop to the floor.
“Her injuries from Raven's Briar were much worse than I realized,” he replied, with a hint of shock in his eyes. “I thought I'd got her on the road to recovery, but a few moments ago she took a sudden turn for the worse.” He paused. “I'm not a miracle-worker. I can't bring life to people when their bodies are too weak to persist.”
“Bring life?” Estella asked. “What do you mean?”
“It was very sudden,” he continued, “but there was nothing I could do to save her.” He paused for a moment, before looking down at the lifeless body in his arms. “I'm sorry. Kate died a few minutes ago.”
Part Forty-Eight
I
Closing her eyes, Estella realized she could hear the sound of the ocean rushing toward her. She braced for it to wash over her, maybe even carry her away.
***
“My darling,” she said, standing in the doorway and watching as Edgar sat pensively at his desk, “you seem troubled tonight. Are you thinking about... her again?”
He paused, before turning to meet Estella's gaze. “You mean Kate?”
She nodded.
A faint smile crossed his face as he got to his feet and made his way over to join her. Putting his hands on her arms, he leaned closer and kissed her passionately on the mouth before pulling back slightly.
“Of course not,” he continued. “It has been quite some time now since Kate died, and I have had more than enough time to reflect upon the fact that she was nothing more than a... momentary fancy. My feelings for Kate were empty and superficial, not like the deep, soulful longing that you inspire in my heart.” He kissed her gently on the forehead. “Estella,” he added, �
��I love you more than you can possibly imagine. I intend to spend the rest of my existence proving that love to you, and showing you that I am worthy of receiving your love in return.”
“Oh, Edgar,” she replied, unable to stop blushing, “sometimes you're just too romantic.”
“I don't care,” he continued, taking her by the hand and leading her along the corridor.
“What about your work?”
“Forget it, it's not important right now. I want the whole world to know that I, Edgar Le Compte, am in love with Estella Graves. I want to sing it from the rooftops, and I want to hire great painters to create a portrait of us together. Perhaps, I shall even take to the piano and see if I can write a ballad.” Leading her into the ballroom, he snapped his fingers and brought one of his vast parties into being, smiling as he turned to her and invited her to dance. “I still wonder,” he added, “how you can have forgiven me for the way I used to treat you. I was a monster and a brute. You must have the kindest and most merciful heart in the whole world, Estella.”
“I merely try my best,” she replied, joining him for a waltz.
All around them, the other guests had stopped to watch, marveling at the grace and poetry of Estella and Edgar's union. Estella felt highly self-conscious, of course, but at the same time she knew that this was part of her duties now that she was officially Lady Estella Le Compte of Thaxos. Smiling, she rested her head on her husband's shoulder as they danced, letting the music fill her soul. For a moment, she felt she could feel Edgar's heartbeat in her own chest, although she told herself she was perhaps getting a little ahead of herself.
“I love you,” she told him, with tears in her eyes. “This is perfect. Everything here, our life together... It's all perfect. And all because Kate Langley is gone.”
***
Singing happily to herself a short while later, Estella made her way along another dark corridor. She could hear the party in the distance, but she wanted to fetch a book from the library, so she could help Edgar remember the exact words of a love sonnet that he wanted to read to her. When she reached the door to the library, however, she stopped once she saw that Nixon was over by the window.
“Good evening,” she said politely, forcing a smile as she headed over to one of the shelves. “And how are you tonight, Mr. Nixon?”
Not turning to her, he reached out and ran a fingertip against one of the window's glass panes. “Troubled,” he muttered.
“By what?” she asked, squinting as she tried to find the right book. She had learned a while ago to not take anything Nixon said too seriously.
“This window is cracked,” he continued, before looking at the next pane. “This one too. In fact...” He took a step back and looked at all the panes. “They're all cracked.”
“Must be the weather,” Estella replied with a smile.
“It's not just in here, either,” he continued, turning to her with great concern in his eyes. “Every windowpane in the entire mansion has a hairline crack at least, and some of them seem on the verge of falling out.”
“So?”
“So don't you think it means something?”
“I can't imagine what,” she replied, grabbing a stool and then climbing up so she could look at the books on a higher shelf. “Dear me, Mr. Nixon, you don't half worry about some trivial matters. If I were you, I'd take up Edgar's offer to borrow some money and go off traveling. You don't want to spend your whole life lingering around this place like a bad smell, do you? In case you haven't heard, Edgar's holding another of his grand parties. If you're not going to join in, perhaps you should get out of the way? You're rather bringing the mood down.”
“It's not just cracks in the windows,” Nixon said, looking over at a vase of wilted flowers by the door. “Things are dying here.”
Estella turned to him, and then she spotted the flowers. “I told Jacob to change those,” she muttered, before smiling again. “He really is getting forgetful in his old age, isn't he? Still, Edgar will never put him out to pasture. He's far too loyal.” She turned back to look at the books. “That's one of the many things I love so much about my darling Edgar. He has a strong moral core, and he always does the right thing. Always, even if sometimes he needs a little nudging along the way, although I fancy I'm training him rather well. I always knew I could whip him into shape and get rid of his rough edges.”
“You did, did you?” Nixon muttered, turning to her with a frown. “How... optimistic of you.”
“Of course,” she continued, “it would all be so much easier without having to look after his pet dog at the same time.”
“His -” Nixon paused, before allowing a faint, annoyed smile. “You want him all to yourself, don't you?”
“I just hate to see you wasting away here on Thaxos,” she told him, pulling out one of the books and then climbing down from the stool. “You're a smart man, or at least that's what Edgar says. There's a whole world out there to explore, and other worlds beyond that, so why not go and have a little fun? Stretch your legs, live in your wolf form for a while. If you just sit around on Thaxos all the time, you're bound to end up miserable and alone. Well, more miserable and alone. Besides...” She patted her belly. “Edgar and I fully intend to start a family soon, so space will be at a premium. We're going to need a nursery, and I'm afraid the room you sleep in at the moment has a lovely south-facing window that would be just divine.”
“But -”
“And as the lady of the house, my decision is final.”
Stepping toward him, she placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I'm sure you understand,” she added. “Edgar's not a bachelor anymore. He's a married man with responsibilities, and those responsibilities are only going to grow over time. He can't really have his old friend crashing in one of the spare rooms, can he?”
Nixon opened his mouth to argue with her, but deep down he knew that she was at least partly right. As Estella headed to the door, singing to herself once again, Nixon made his way over to an orchid that had long sat by the library's main window. Like all the other plants in the house, the orchid was starting to die, and Nixon couldn't help noticing that every living thing seemed to be suffering since the day of Edgar and Estella's wedding.
“Oh, and Mr. Nixon,” Estella added, stopping at the door and turning back to smile at him, “I hope Edgar won't have to hear about this little conversation of ours. If he's truly your friend, I'm sure you'll want him to be happy.” She paused. “I think you know what you have to do.”
***
“I can't believe this day has finally come,” Edgar said as he, Estella and Nixon made their way along the wooden jetty a few hours later. “It's so sudden. I thought you'd taken rather a fancy to Thaxos life.”
“Perspectives change sometimes,” Nixon replied warily. “I began to think that I was getting set in my ways. There's the rest of this world to explore, and then there are other worlds I've only read about in books. I always dreamed of taking a few decades to walk the aisles of the Great Library. Perhaps I shall do that eventually. Plus, I should make a pilgrimage to Sangreth, and maybe I'll drop by Gothos as well. I could even see the ruins of Karakh.”
Reaching the end of the jetty, he turned to Edgar.
“What I'm trying to say, old friend, is that you shouldn't worry about me. I'm a tough old wolf and I can most certainly look after myself. I've spent far too long enjoying your hospitality, but now it's time for me to get out there and see what the world has to offer.”
“You must come back to visit us soon,” Edgar told him. “It would be good, one day, to hear about your adventures.”
“Please,” Estella said with a smile, as she linked her arm around Edgar's, “darling, you can't go asking him to come back before he's even left.” She watched Nixon for a moment. “You're very lucky, Mr. Nixon. You're going to see the world and explore its every aspect, I'm sure. Please, don't feel obliged to hurry back to Thaxos on our account. Edgar and I shall be perfectly content here, ruling
over the island and getting our family in order. You must think of this island as part of your past. A fond memory, and nothing more.”
“My dear wife is absolutely correct,” Edgar added. “I need to devote myself to Estella from this day forth. You can understand that, can't you?”
“I suppose so,” Nixon replied uneasily, before turning and climbing down to the waiting ferry. “I wish you good lives, my friends. If I ever come by this way again, I hope to find you both happy and content.”
“Oh, we will be,” Estella said, barely able to contain her joy as she watched the ferry pushing off from the jetty. She and Edgar waved, watching as Nixon was carried away toward the horizon, and finally the ferry was nothing more than a pinprick in the distance; a little while after that, it was gone entirely.
“I hope he'll be okay,” Edgar said, turning to Estella. “I rather think that by allowing him to stay with me for so long, I encouraged him to become house-trained. Still, I can't spend too much time worrying about him now, he'll have to iron the wrinkles out of his life himself. I have other matters to deal with.” Leaning closer, he kissed her passionately on the lips.
“My darling,” she replied, pulling back slightly before taking his hand in hers, “now that Mr. Nixon is gone, there is something I must tell you.”
“I anticipated as much,” Edgar continued. “There has clearly been a great deal on your mind for a couple of weeks now, my darling. You've tried to hide it, but I know you too well.”
“How thoughtful and perceptive you are,” she replied, “and how perfectly in tune with my emotions.” She carefully placed his hand on her belly. “The truth is, I visited the doctor this morning and had the news confirmed. I am carrying your child, my darling. Possibly two, actually. The doctor said there's a real chance we might be blessed with a double birth.”