When she came to, she saw Dr. White still standing alongside the operating table in a pool of thin yellow light. The homunculi were no longer present. A large glass canister of pale red liquid hung from a rack over the table with a tube ending in a sharp, beveled piece of metal that was inserted in the abdomen of a bleached figure stretched out under the doctor’s hand.
Kate moaned.
White glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. His face was bloodstained. His eyes were wide and frenzied.
“Imogen will be a fine addition to the family,” he said in a voice thick with excitement. White held up a tube of filamentous quills. “Since you took my favorite, I will re-create your sister in his likeness. She will be magnificent.”
Kate said nothing. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn’t. She had a gag over her mouth, which White had placed to stop her cursing and threatening during the surgery. Throughout the operation, she had been steadily flexing her limbs, restoring circulation to them. They burned with fiery needles, but one image kept her focused: White dead at her hands. There was nothing that would stop her, nowhere he could run.
“Nearly done now.” White straightened the tube dangling from the canister and studied the filthy trocar that dripped pinkish liquid. He took a large syringe of green substance from a side table and set it on the operating table. “I tried to tell you what would happen. Did you think I was lying? You cannot play games with me, Miss Anstruther.”
Kate kept her eyes on him, afraid to catch a fuller glimpse of Imogen.
He walked toward her, wiping red hands on his gown. “I haven’t decided what to do with you. The key will take care of itself; it’s really none of my concern ultimately. But I asked you quite nicely to tell me about it. And you refused. Now I will make you pay for your arrogance.”
The door exploded open and slammed against the wall. Simon stormed into sight, one fist clenched, lines of power sparking over his arms and torso. His sword glowed like lightning in his hand.
The doctor was surprisingly fast to recover from the shock. He grabbed the wheelchair and spun Kate around to face the door. She felt a sharp prick of a needle on her neck as White shouted, “Stop or she’ll die!”
Simon held out his arm to block Hogarth, who surged in behind him. The manservant was a figure of rusted iron, his chest swathed in red linen and his face bleached marble. His gaze locked on the dreadful table that rose from the floor between the door and the trapped Kate. Hogarth’s face fell with devastation. The pile of familiar clothes on the floor told him all he needed to know. The manservant shoved Simon’s arm aside and walked toward the table, step by slow step. He stopped, towering over the still, white figure. He looked at the poor thing, unsure what to do. He unstrapped one of the hands, then seemed to freeze in confusion. His fingers tightened on the table edge. It was unclear if he was trying to crush it, or if he merely needed the support to stand. His form quivered and his head rose.
Dr. White pressed the large needle deeper into Kate’s throat. She gave a muffled cry of pain. One of the doctor’s grotesque homunculi skittered from the far corner to crouch on its weird, misshapen legs near White. One of the thing’s eyes locked on the table, while the other swept around the dingy chamber.
“Hogarth!” Simon warned. “Don’t do anything to endanger Kate. Do you hear me?”
“Wise advice, Mr. Archer,” White said. “Have you come so far just to see her die?” The doctor’s eyes tracked Malcolm, who moved into the room behind Simon with pistols in hand. The Scotsman slipped to one side to gain a clear view, but he stopped when White inclined his head toward his restrained prisoner again.
“I must say, Mr. Archer, I am grateful to see you here because now I don’t need to seek you out to destroy you.”
“You’re welcome,” Simon said as he flexed his hands. “Now, we’ll have Miss Anstruther and her sister.”
White chuckled. “You won’t have anything, I’m afraid. Frankly, I don’t see how any of you will get out of here alive.”
“Don’t you?” Simon raised a hand and Penny entered the room, brandishing a pistol, bluffing out the extreme pain she felt. Young human Charlotte crept in behind her. Simon glanced quickly back. “Where’s Nick?”
A pale-faced Penny said, “He went off to hold the stairs in case reinforcements come.”
“Damn it,” Simon whispered. He removed a vial from the bandolier, tossing it to Penny. “The door if you please.”
Penny calmly poured liquid on the threshold. In a moment, a shimmering amberlike mass started to grow. It expanded, sticking to the wall and swelling until it filled the entire doorway.
“That is impressive work, obviously yours.” The doctor eyed Kate. “Very accomplished. I will try to keep you alive so I may pick your brain.” He giggled strangely as if an odd thought struck him.
Simon stepped to the operating table. “Now, let’s talk about who will and won’t survive.” For the first time, he saw what had been done to Imogen. Certain lines and curves such as the chin and the cheekbones still spoke of familiar features, but much of the beautiful young girl, her right arm and her skin, were like the horrible homunculi, deathly pale and translucent. Her eyes were stark white and more machine than human, the pupil of the left one contracted with a mechanical whir. Simon’s face froze as he worked on suppressing his own wrath.
He laid a hand on Hogarth’s trembling shoulder. The manservant studied the tube dangling from the glass canister that throbbed like a vein. Imogen’s white abdomen was beginning to distend as fluids continued to pump into it. Pink liquid bubbled from her mouth. Hogarth reached out and yanked a trocar from Imogen’s stomach and tossed it aside. The liquid continued to gurgle out onto the floor.
White frowned. “That is unfortunate. I may not be able to salvage her now. You have ruined this experiment. I’m quite cross about that.”
Imogen slowly raised her human arm and took Hogarth’s wrist. She lifted the manservant’s hand and brought it to her throat. The white thing placed his massive fingers around her neck and squeezed them, signaling what she wanted him to do.
Hogarth managed a pained, “I can’t, Miss Imogen. I can’t.”
“No, you can’t,” the doctor threatened. “Move away from her. Now.”
Malcolm took a step forward and murmured to Simon, “I can take him.”
Simon shook his head slightly. He laid a hand on the metal table and whispered a word. A shock wave shook the table and carried down to the floor, rippling out across the stained tiles. The wheelchair bucked into the air and the doctor toppled off his feet like a rag doll. The entire group was rocked by the unexpected blast. They fell to the floor or crashed against the wall, except for Simon who was prepared. He vaulted Imogen and the table and bounded toward Dr. White.
A shape dropped on him from above. A shouted warning from Penny enabled Simon to twist and face his attacker with the rapier-like fingers. Simon managed to bring his sword up, impaling the creature, but the weight still drove him to the floor. The homunculus’s stiff fingers thudded into the stone on either side as if it was mere upholstery. The white thing gibbered, with its horrid face a few inches from Simon’s. It wrenched one of its hands free and raised it to strike. Simon managed to shift to the side as spike fingers slashed down, catching the edge of his shoulder. He cried out.
Through the pain, Simon whispered a word and the sword flared. The homunculus squealed as Simon used both hands to force the sword up through the creature’s body, spilling ooze. The thing thrashed in agony and fell limp.
Meanwhile, Dr. White had struggled to his feet and grabbed the intact glass syringe from the floor. Shaking his head to clear it, he lumbered toward the wheelchair. Suddenly the chair was pulled away by Hogarth. The manservant swung a gigantic fist at the doctor, but White managed to dodge the blow, falling back as Hogarth lifted Kate and the chair to carry her away from the madman. White recovered his balance on the shoulder of the homunculus, which weaved on mantislike limbs, watching everyone at
the same time.
Malcolm rose to his feet, sighting Dr. White down the barrel of a Lancaster pistol. Something quivered down in front of his face. His arm was seized and pulled up. A white creature clutching the dim ceiling draped tentacles down to entangle the hunter.
Malcolm rose off the floor, dragged by pale tendrils. His arms were trapped. Penny ran for him and reached under his coat to yank out his dagger. She swept through the tentacles holding his right arm. Liquid spewed. Malcolm raised his heavy pistol and blasted the ceiling. The automatic barrel rotated, and he fired one shell after another. Viscous black fluid poured down on Malcolm. The tentacles frayed into slime and Malcolm dropped into a growing puddle as the homunculus fell apart.
Hogarth and Charlotte pulled the last buckle away from Kate’s ankles and the woman struggled to stand, her legs still on fire. Her hand ripped away the strap from her mouth.
“Thank God, Miss Kate.” Hogarth pulled a vial from his pocket. It was the elixir he had been given but saved for her. “Drink this. It will revive you.”
“Bless you, Hogarth.” Kate pulled the stopper out and took a long swallow. She smiled at Charlotte. Then she turned and stared at Imogen on the table. Kate seemed momentarily frozen, unwilling to go closer to her horribly changed sister, even as Hogarth returned to stand beside Imogen. Kate walked stiff-legged to where Penny and Malcolm were rising to their feet. She pulled the second Lancaster pistol from the gagging Malcolm.
Simon kicked the sizzling cadaver of the clawed homunculus aside, shifting his attention between the approaching Kate, with the heavy pistol dangling from her hand, and the trapped doctor, with his last freakish protector. “Careful, Kate, that last homunculus is likely the most horrific if it’s his last defense.”
Kate leveled the pistol. She fired and the white thing was blown off its feet to slide dead against the wall. She handed the weapon to Simon and advanced on the doctor.
“Kate, stop!” Simon cried. “We have no idea what he is capable of.”
The doctor raised the syringe of green liquid, but Kate slapped it out of his hand. She seized his collar and drove a fist into his face. Then again. And again. His nose flattened into pulp and blood flowed down across his mouth.
Kate shook him. “Now tell me that you can reverse what you did to Imogen. Tell me that.”
White gurgled blood. “That thing is your sister now and forever.”
Kate put both hands around the doctor’s throat. “Then there’s no reason for you to live.” Her voice was cold and unemotional as she tightened her grip.
He struggled to speak, working his jaw from side to side. He spat a tooth in her face and bit down on something in his mouth. “I would prefer to die by my own intellect, then allow your pathetic hands to finish me.”
Kate’s fingers squeezed deep into his throat, disappearing into softening flesh. White began to change shape. His face grew flaccid. What had been his head caved in and cascaded over her hands in a slimy rush. The body spilled to the floor with a sickening splash. His empty suit dropped into the puddle that had been Dr. William White.
“Coward,” Kate snarled, staring down in anger rather than horror or amazement. She knelt and reached into the slime. After a second, she stood, clutching the key.
Simon spun Kate around and embraced her. The tightness in his chest finally abated, allowing him a natural breath of relief. He held her up and took in the sight of her. He smoothed the hair from her face. With one arm, he removed the bandolier from across his shoulders. “I believe this is yours.”
Her eyes filled with warmth that he had carried it into battle. But it was fleeting. She forced her gaze to where Hogarth was holding the limp, pale hand of the figure on the table. The sturdy manservant looked back at Kate with tears streaming down his face.
Simon said, “Kate, forgive us. We failed.”
She shook her head emphatically and found herself supporting Simon rather than the other way around. They went to the table, and Kate touched the white thing lying there. Imogen’s eyes, one human but pale and one darkly mechanical, rotated toward her. An inhuman hand with grotesquely long fingers gently reached out. Kate grasped it.
“So brave you were,” Kate whispered, brushing her other hand over Imogen’s smooth, bald head. “Father would have been so proud of you. As I am.”
Imogen’s already ragged breathing grew rougher. She began to writhe, causing Kate to stiffen in alarm.
“Oh my God,” Kate breathed. “She’s dying. The transformation process wasn’t finished.”
“Perhaps it’s for the best.” Simon stepped to her side. “She isn’t Imogen.”
Kate stared at the horrific thing that had once been her sister, and she could still see Imogen there. She could hear her sister’s old voice in the rasping noises. Kate took the syringe of green liquid from the table and inserted the needle as she had seen Dr. White do with other substances. She pushed the plunger, injecting the green into her sister’s body. Imogen went rigid, as if her muscles were stone. Her peculiar eyes stretched wide. Kate slid the needle out and violently threw it aside.
She put a hand against her sister’s frozen cheek. “I’m sorry, Imogen. I’m not as brave as you. I couldn’t let you go.”
“Kate, we must leave,” Simon said. The entire group was in tatters. Wounds half-healed and others newly raw and vibrant showed on all of them. Everyone’s movements were slow and pained. They were injured and exhausted, fortunate not to be dead. Perhaps it was only the effects of Kate’s elixir that kept them upright. “If we don’t go now, we may not be able to walk out under our own power.”
Hogarth removed his coat and wrapped it around Imogen to protect him from the quills that lay flat along her arm. He gathered the gasping woman against his chest.
There was a deep thumping sound from the door. All heads turned to the amber monolith that blocked the entrance. Through the distorting orange substance, they saw a large shape moving. Something smashed against the amber, shaking the wall. Small lines webbed the crystal. The dark figure struck again and the tiny fissures widened into cracks.
“Oh my God,” Charlotte whispered. “It’s Gretta.”
Chapter Thirty
No one spoke. The only sound was the pounding of the werewolf against their fragile protection and the sharp cracking of the amber.
“Is there another way out?” Kate finally asked.
Simon handed his sword to Kate before he went to the far wall. Using his own dripping blood, he runed the stones. Then he did the same to the floor. “We are surrounded by earth. There is only one door.”
She looked up. “The ceiling?”
Simon shook his head. “Stone foundation. Too thick.”
Hogarth set Imogen down gently. “When she comes through, I will take her. I will buy you time.”
Kate waved her hand flat. “No. We take her together. She’s alone now.”
“This way we don’t have to kill her later.” Penny smirked through the pain of her cradled broken limb.
Malcolm snorted a laugh as he inspected his pistols, muttering about ferocious women.
Charlotte crouched next to Kate and bumped her head against her much like Aethelred would do when he wanted attention. It was a little disturbing to see the young girl do it. Kate glanced up questioningly at Simon.
“Charlotte led us to you,” he said.
Kate dropped to her knees and embraced the young girl with unabashed affection. “Oh child! Thank you!”
Surprised, Charlotte’s arms slowly wrapped around Kate and her eyes brimmed with gentle tears.
Simon turned to Malcolm, and said, “Penny is right. Since Gretta is thoughtful enough to be right outside just now, this is the time to take her.”
“Good man.” Malcolm snapped the breech of his pistol closed.
“And since her presence in the hall means that Nick is likely dead,” Simon said quietly, “I believe I shall take the honor of destroying her.” Kate started to object, but Simon continued, “I’m the
only one of us who could possibly stand up to her.”
“Perhaps,” Kate argued, “if you were well, but you’re exhausted and under the influence of the aether.”
“Yes, that’s very true,” He laughed bitterly and pulled the last three remaining vials of the revitalizing elixir from her bandolier.
“Simon, you can’t take three at once. It will kill you.”
There was a massive strike at the door and a chunk of amber flew across the room.
“The time for arguing is past, even for you,” Simon said softly and took her hand in his.
Kate shook her head defiantly. “Don’t play charming. We’re so much more powerful together. Whatever you’re thinking, there’s another way.”
“There is indeed, but it ends up with one or more of you dead. That I can’t allow.” His mouth was a firm grimace. He uncorked the small bottles. “When the doorway is clear, you will all need to move far away. Back into the tunnels. You won’t survive what I’m about to do.”
“Will you survive?” Kate asked.
“You shouldn’t worry, my dear.” Simon couldn’t look her in the eye.
Kate watched him sadly as he drank all three vials.
The rush of the elixir swept over Simon in a dizzying wave, every nerve and muscle coming alive with excess power. He crouched on the floor, swaying, on the verge of passing out. Kate took a step toward him, but he waved her off. After a second, he steadied himself and, using the blood dripping from his hand, inscribed a large rune on the floor. When he completed it, he pressed his hand flat. The rune glowed a brilliant green, then faded.
He stood slowly, breathing labored, his eyes staring unseeing into the distance. He began to speak odd words in a low voice and the tattooed runes on his body glowed, writing and rewriting themselves in chaotic repetition. He strode to the door, his feet crunching in the debris, lost in his own mind and surrounded by the aura of power sparking across his body. Light bled from every inch of him. He braced himself in front of the crumbling amber wall. The dark shape on the other side paused and cocked her head, staring in at the man.
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