My sister leans over and whispers to me.
“If only this was real,” she says.
And I am horrified and confused, because I begin to suspect that it is. It is impossible that Philippa could be such a good actress. Yet, it is equally unbelievable that she is being tortured before our eyes. How can the others see this as entertainment? How can those around me allow this to happen?
I look to Roland, pleading with my eyes.
“Please, make this stop.”
“But it’s only a show,” Roland says, filled with confusion.
“One that is far too real.”
“And is that such a bad thing?” he says. “Is this not what you wanted? To have Philippa Price-Pearce gone, so that your sister could marry young Mr. Lawlor?”
I hesitate. I look to Marjorie, who doesn’t even seem to hear us. And she is so filled with glee to see her rival suffer.
“But not like this. I did not wish to see Philippa hurt,” I say.
“But there is no other way,” Roland says, sadly. “The girl must be removed. She blocks the road to your sister’s contentment. And unfortunately, even if we were to convince Mr. Lawlor to reconsider, we cannot afford to let the Price-Pearces gain allies through other marriage proposals. They are trying to block some of my family’s business ventures … our business ventures. And we must not allow them this chess piece to move about in the battle.”
“But … death,” I whisper.
“Do not worry for poor Philippa. As it turns out, she is quite sad over her impending marriage, as she is convinced that Gregory Lawlor loves another. In fact, she has written her farewell note, and I would not be surprised if she were to take a long walk along the beach after the party tonight. What’s left of her will be found washed ashore, riddled with jellyfish stings.”
“But … how on Earth do you know such things?”
“Because we had her write the note,” Adam says from nearby, with a playful smile. And he watches my reactions with great interest.
I look around, no longer worried for Philippa, but rather, for my fiancée and his brethren. Because it would seem that they are admitting to a crime in front of their own guests. Roland seems to notice my concern.
“Do not worry, they cannot hear us,” he says. “Their attention is easily distracted. They are cattle who are meant to be led. Unlike you, my dear.”
And looking around, I see them all staring at the stage, ensorcelled. Marjorie, Father, Mother and the rest of the guests. And it does not seem possible. Is it magic? Or is Count Jerome really a wizard who can hypnotize minds? If he is, his power is formidable, as every last person around me focuses on Philippa and her screams, as Tom slowly works another needle through her shoulder.
“Can you imagine? In Paris, you must survive 10 of the pins before you are allowed the transformation,” Marion says. “And the girl is only on her fourth.”
“Transformation? Into what?” I say.
“She does not know?”
“No, Marion. Not quite yet,” Roland says. “But she will find out soon enough.”
And I look to the stage, wondering what this transformation is that they are talking about, what grim secrets they wish for me to discover. Roland puts his hands on my shoulders, and stares at me, seriously.
“I know. I know you have many questions, my dear. And I promise that all of them will be answered on this night. It’s why I’ve brought you here. And though you may see things which might seem odd, I promise that nothing here will hurt you. But for now, I must have your decision. If we do this thing to Philippa, it must be by your choice. Everything must be your choice, even to be with me. I will not have you be an unwilling victim. If you do not wish to see this happen to the girl, simply say the word, and we will set her free, and find another way.”
Roland says such strange things, about questions being answered and my not being hurt. And I look to poor Philippa, squirming in pain.
Somehow, I knew this, in my heart. That Roland was different, that there was something otherworldly about him. I knew it from the way he appeared in my room, from the way he swept in and changed my life. He had a magical air about him, and I wanted to know more about his secret, I wanted to taste of his power.
And he said it before, that it was my choice to marry him, not my family’s. But I had no idea how serious he was.
On the stage, Tom seems to emphasize his point, by holding one of the needles in front of Philippa, smiling at me. And he points it toward her heart. She looks around, this girl who caused my sister so much pain, and she cries out for mercy, though no one responds to her. Somehow, she notices me from across the crowd, and seems to sense that my mind is the only one not ensorcelled. And Philippa calls out to me.
“Caroline, please. Please, help me!”
I look to Marjorie, who smiles so broadly at her pain, who so desperately wants her out of the way. And I really have no choice. Because I will never let Philippa stand in the way of my sister’s happiness, nor allow the Price-Pearces to block my family’s business ventures.
And whatever Roland’s secret is, I must know it. My fate lies with these people, and I must follow this course to its end.
“Do it,” I say.
In an instant, another scream erupts from the stage, as Tom plunges the needle into her heart. Philippa slumps over. Her hair is matted down with sweat, and the magician lovingly wipes it aside, to give us a better view of her face.
“It would seem our lovely flower has wilted,” Count Jerome says. “But let us give her a moment to rest, as we all do the same. Quite luckily, I believe Miss Arianne Kremble is about to begin another song. If you would like to go inside, we shall listen for a while, before dinner is served.”
Two servants come out and hold open the doors to the house, and everyone files inside. I watch in shock and dismay, as Father, Mother and Marjorie all walk with the others to listen to the beautiful music that is about to begin, leaving me behind. Gregory Lawlor goes with his parents and the Price-Pearces, following the rest of the crowd, all of them seemingly unaware of the husk that was once poor Philippa that’s left on the stage.
Marion takes her father’s hand.
“It is time,” she says.
And it would seem we are not to join the rest of the crowd. Marion leads him, as though he is a docile child, and we all tag along behind her.
Our group moves in a different direction from the rest of the guests, to the left, into the Bennett’s grand dining room. And even in my state of shock from the bizarre events of the evening, I cannot help but to take notice of the place. It is far bigger than our own dining room, many times over. And I have never seen anything quite like the long table that extends throughout the room. It seems capable of seating a small army. And already, there is food set out for the guests; roast turkey and pheasants, a suckling pig. There are heated platters that are covered, but I can smell their delicious scents. And despite my dazed state, I feel a pang of hunger, which seems almost cruel after what I have just witnessed.
We go to a door at the end of the room, and enter a smaller dining room with a table that seats many less than the larger one, perhaps 12 people. And there is a birthday cake with white icing and pretty pink sugared flowers sitting on one end. Finally, this is something that I find nice. I like nothing better than cake, even though it’s not usually served before dinner, though clearly our hosts have their own way of doing things. I am hoping we are to share it in a private celebration, so I can hear their strange story in a gentle way.
But, unfortunately, things only get worse. The Bennetts’ voices soon rise into argument, as the father begins throwing a fit. He looks to his daughter with concern.
“Are you really going to do this, Marion?”
“Do what? We are doing nothing!”
“Do you take me for a fool?”
“I take you as someone who wishes to please me. Is that not the case?”
“Of course, it is,” he says. “But …”
“Then come.
Let us enjoy this birthday treat.”
“No! I don’t want this! I don’t want any any of it!”
“But it’s your favorite!”
“I said I don’t want it!”
“Suit yourself, then. But we must carry on.”
She puts her hand on his face, and James Bennett quiets, seemingly mesmerized. It is the same expression I have seen on many faces this night.
“Are you really going to do this?”
“Of course, I’m going to do this. An offering must be made to the Elders. It’s not as though they appear every day. And it would be poor form not to feed them before the humans eat.”
“But they aren’t even here to enjoy it.”
“It matters not if they care to partake. An offering of one of the consorts must be made, and there aren’t many to choose from. Unless you would have me sacrifice the girl.”
“She’s still too important to our plans. And besides, she’s Roland’s Chosen One.”
“Oh, so that’s been decided?”
“Absolutely,” Roland says with a smile in my direction. “I am quite in love with this one. She is very special.”
“And we’re going to do this in front of her?”
“She may as well see it now, she’s already seen enough on this night.”
“Well, then, be brave, sweet Caroline,” Marion says. “Soon, you will know the joy in which we are about to partake.”
The Bennett family’s conversation is an odd one that does little to dispel my confusion. Apparently, I am Roland’s “Chosen One.” I wonder if that means I am to be his wife, which we all know. And what is this strange talk of sacrifices and elders and consorts? And of delights I am to partake in? It all frightens me, and I am horrified to think that something dark is about to happen in this room.
I begin to suspect that James Bennett is not their father at all. But whatever their intentions, I cannot help but to breathe a sigh of relief that they will inflict their dark magic on him and not me.
He leans against the table, and I am shocked, as Marion and the boys move him so he is lying down. James is as complacent as a child. And the strangest thing happens. The children begin to help him off with his jacket and shirt. They pull off his pants and shoes, and I wonder for a moment if they are going to strip him naked. I have seen few naked men in my life, and I am curious what his form will look like.
And my coldness toward the man who is to be my father-in-law surprises me. I do not even think to try to help him.
He somehow rouses from the hypnotic state they have put him in, and starts to beg Marion again.
“Please. You’ve said that you love me.”
“I do love you. But you knew this day would come. It was part of our agreement.”
“But …”
“Shh! You know you love the bite. And this one will be a thousand times greater than any you have known before. I promise.”
She gives him a long kiss, on the lips. And I panic, because now I know my suspicions are correct, and something is very wrong. Their affection is passionate in nature, and James seems to sink into it, despite being upset. But no daughter should kiss her father this way. It is unsettling to watch, but I cannot pull myself away from the spectacle before me.
Marion turns his head to the side, and she looks at me for a moment, and smiles. And I am stunned to see two of her front teeth pop out, to look like drawings I have seen of the fangs of a snake. She plunges them into his neck. The boys follow suit with fangs of their own, biting into his arms.
I begin to panic, but Roland puts his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place.
“My God, what are they doing?”
“Do not be afraid. It is simply what we do.”
“But … why?”
“To survive. It is the gift that keeps us alive forever. And it is one I will share with you, if you let me. You will become strong, you will feel little pain, and you will never grow old. And we will be able to love each other forever. You will never have to share the worries of the common rabble again.”
They are demons. The Bennetts have made a pact with the devil, and they are drinking the blood of their own father. Or whoever the man is. And Roland is one of them. This is why he constantly refers to our love lasting forever. Because he intends for me to accept his dark gift.
“Wait here, and when we are finished, I will answer all of your questions.”
Roland opens his mouth slowly, as two of his own teeth pop out. And he turns away from me, and bites into a free leg. And I watch, as James Bennett’s life is slowly drained away.
But the most grotesque aspect of the scene is that he seems to enjoy it. As they kill him, James Bennett groans with pleasure.
Though it would seem that the scene could not possibly be more unnatural, the three strangers from the balcony enter the room, nonchalantly, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Which should not surprise me. If anyone else at the party were demons, it would be them. And the Bennett children do not even look up from their murder to acknowledge the visitors.
The woman with the red hair is the only one who still wears her mask, and it surprises me that I wonder why. She reaches out, and wipes a trickle of blood that streams from one of James Bennett’s wounds. She puts the crimson fluid to her lips, and licks it away with relish.
The fangs pop out of her mouth, and she sinks them into his skin. The dark-haired man follows suit.
I shrink into a corner, hoping to fade into the walls. But before he can bite James Bennett, the bald one turns my way. He smiles, and I can see the jagged teeth in his mouth up close, which remind me of stalactites and stalagmites hanging in a cave.
Without moving his lips, he speaks to me.
“Hello, Caroline,” he says. And I feel a shock go through my body that paralyzes me.
He knows me. This thing knows my name.
It takes me a moment to realize he is not really speaking at all. Instead, the words seem to project into my mind, and I realize that this is how they do it. This is how they control the others, with the demonic mental powers they have been granted.
The bald one bites into James Bennett, and I am hoping he will forget about me. They have their faces buried in his flesh, and I can hear the gutturals sounds they make as they devour him.
And an uncontrollable urge overcomes me. I want to kill them all.
I do not care that I am complicit with them in Philippa’s murder, or the promises I have made to Roland. Instead, I look around the dining room for a weapon, anything I can use. But there is not much here, and somehow, I think that a cake fork will not provide an ample means to attack. To my horror, the bald one looks at me once more. And he nods toward the slightly ajar door of the room, with a smile.
“Run,” he says, in my mind.
And I don’t need any more permission than this. I quickly head for the open door, while the others are too wrapped up in their meal to notice.
Luckily, the large dining room is empty, save for a few servants preparing the place settings, and I quickly walk past them. Like the demonic Bennetts, they don’t seem to notice me. I look over my shoulder to see if I am being followed, but by some miracle, no one gives chase.
And I know I only have moments.
I enter the large waiting room, as the singer Marjorie was so impressed with performs another beautiful song. I find my parents and sister at the edge of the crowd, listening to the melody as intently as the Bennetts were focused on their meal. I pull at Mother’s sleeves, whispering to her.
“Mother, please. Come with me, we must hurry. Father …”
But they don’t move. It is more of the demons’ magic, what they have done to James Bennett to control him, and to the crowd around me, as they watched Philippa’s murder. No matter how I struggle, no one in the room looks up. No one notices me over her song. I feel like poor Philippa, screaming for help. And I panic. There isn’t time, so I run.
The foyer is a blur, the front of the mansion passes by
in a haze, as I click down the steps. I am ridiculous, trotting down the streets in my dress, but I know I only have moments before they will discover me, and I must put as much distance between myself and the house as possible. Even the streets of Coventry Park do not frighten me, because the people who dwell here are at least still humans, if only downtrodden ones. They are not monsters who are in league with the devil. But as I get father away from the mansion, I see that the buildings are more decrepit, and I wonder if there is one I can run into and hide.
A thought pops into my head, an odd one; that if I can find the Luminos in this city I will be safe. But I’m not even sure what that means.
A few blocks away, I turn into an alley, and look back once more, to see if I am being followed. But there is nothing. From its edge, I scan the streets to see if there is a carriage in which I might make my escape, but I spy none. And as I back further down the corridor, I begin to realize that I have made a terrible mistake. The streets of Coventry Park are not so innocent after all.
I become aware of the fact that I am not alone in this foul place. There is a small fire burning in a corner, and a horrible smell comes from my surroundings. Two feral eyes glow at me from a few feet away that belong to something that resembles a man. And he has two more friends behind him, huddled by the fire.
“Oy, pretty, pretty. You’ve wandered away from the pleasant crowd wit no others about. What brings you to these parts?”
The man is filthy and bloated. There is dirt on his face and food in his greying beard. And his breath smells disgusting, like the Admiral’s toward the evening’s end at the Ball. But perhaps a thousand times worse. And at least the Admiral has the courtesy to bathe.
“Please. If you could help me get a carriage to take me from this place, I would be eternally grateful. My family would reward you quite handsomely.”
“Now, why would you want to go and leave us like that? We ‘aven’t even had the chance to admire your pretty jewels. And such a pretty girl wearing them. Come, sweet treat, sit wiff us a while, and we’ll show you a good time.”
I clutch at the delicate strand of pearls around my neck, and realize I will need to defend myself. But how? And in a flash, the creature and his comrades lash out at me, pulling me down.
The Meridian Gamble Page 24