Suddenly people burst toward him, with shears and knives in hand.
“Free me,” he pleaded as the mob cut off the buttons holding together the front of his duster, the buttons on his sleeves. Someone took the ribbon out of his hair and several others clipped off pieces of it.
A woman kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for killing the royals, then told him how terribly sorry she was that he was going to be martyred for standing up for the people. Then she ran away with a lock of his hair.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please, if you could please untie me.”
“We love you, Francois!” came a cry from the back of the crowd.
“Did you return from exile to reignite the revolution?”
He turned to find a somewhat well-dressed young man going through his pockets.
Someone had brought a chair to the pillory after noticing the rather gaudy ring Opal had taken to wearing, which was, as one might expect, set with a black opal. After a bit of tugging, that token of his namesake was gone.
“If you don’t cut me down, I will be drawn and quartered by the king.”
Someone ripped open his waistcoat.
He looked out beyond this writhing mass of insanity at the snow that was beginning to fall. “If you admire me so much, why won’t you free me?”
* * * * *
Edel’s eyes opened. He was conscious again. He didn’t dream. He never dreamed. It was simply the act of lying down in his coffin in the morning, and then opening his eyes again, and it was dusk. It seemed only a moment had passed.
He smiled. There was someone sort-of human in his home now to talk to, and now every day seemed a little more interesting.
The vampire slid back the lid of his heavy stone sarcophagus and was met by not only Chester, but Cameo as well.
“What are you doing down here?”
Cameo looked down at him. His stone coffin was actually buried in the basement of the palace under his apartment. It made sense she supposed. He was literally lying in the dirt of his homeland, probably on the exact spot that his house used to stand.
“They’ve taken Opal,” she said, arms folded in front of her.
“Did Chester bring you down here?” Edel slid his arms into the jacket that Chester was holding for him.
“Yes. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for hours. The military took Opal prisoner. I saw them; my thrall brought me the message.”
“Your thrall?” he said, despising the use of the word.
“A shadow.”
“A ghost—”
“Who cares?! Opal is probably in jail. You have to let me free him.”
Edel shut the lid of his coffin slowly, thinking, trying to buy time. “How did you get Chester to bring you down here?”
She looked at him coldly.
“No one is allowed down here, you realize.”
Cameo appraised the dank room. It was empty except for one sconce that they had been using and the coffin. It was clearly a room meant to be a tomb for a monster.
He looked away from her. “A monster, yes.”
“You and I are both monsters. Only our deeds can change that now.”
“You’re only saying that because you want me to let you go.”
“Please,” she said, dropping her arms to her sides. “Please have some empathy. I, I… like him.”
He smiled at her thoughtfully.
“I don’t want him to die.”
Edel was shaking his head slowly, “He will die eventually.”
“He doesn’t have to die now. Let me go to him.”
Chester was running a rake over the dirt in the room behind them and Edel turned to look in his direction, considering losing Cameo. Letting her go. The idea of regaining consciousness again the way he had before she had come to liven up his existence didn’t strike him as something he wanted to do. If only she could understand how empty his life had been, then perhaps she could forgive him for saying no, but he thoroughly doubted it.
“I’ll go,” he sighed.
“What?”
“I will go see if I can find him.”
Her face brightened. “You will?”
“Chester, my cloak.”
The zombie dropped the rake that he had been using and walked out the door, up the stairs, and back into the apartment.
Edel removed a watch from his pocket and checked the time. When he looked up again, he found her staring at him.
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to have to ask that you don’t make a habit of coming down here.”
“I won’t.” She took his arm suddenly as he took a step forward. “Don’t hurt him.”
He could feel the slow thud of her pulse through the material of his jacket. Her heartbeat was somewhat slower than a human’s, but it still gave him pause to feel her so close. He met her eyes, steeling himself against the warmth he felt emanating from her. “Or you’ll kill Chester?”
“I’d rather not make that threat.”
He leaned in closer. “I’m not going to hurt either of you. There’s nothing to worry about. So why don’t you go upstairs and try to eat something. I’ll be back shortly.”
She nodded and let her hand drop. A moment later he had disappeared.
* * * * *
“Lantillette,” Avamore motioned for the man to come over.
“No cheating, your highness,” one young man chided as the minister joined the card party.
“Yes, yes, we’ve had enough interruptions for one night already.”
The king ignored them. “How long has it been?”
“About four hours, sire.”
“Go get him. If the mob hasn’t torn him apart, then deposit him in a cell for the night. Have him brought out to me tomorrow during court,” he took a sip of wine. “I’ll make decisions about his future then.”
“Yes, your highness.” Lantillette bowed and left the room.
* * * * *
It didn’t take the vampire long to find Black Opal. He simply made his way into town, something he generally tried to avoid. One of the most interesting things on everyone’s minds was the man tied in the town square at the site of the old pillory.
As Edel approached, he could see that there had been a crowd at one time—the footprints in the snow proved that—but now there were only a couple stragglers: two women whispering to one another, a man smoking a meerschaum pipe, and an artist who was sketching on an easel.
In the center of the square, the highwayman was tied to a pillory, unconscious, or resting with the back of his head touching the pole. He had lost his gloves and the majority of his buttons in the crush of the frenzied crowd. This had left him somewhat more exposed to the cold than he had expected. Still though, he was alive....
The crowd had long ago gone home to their warm hearths and dinners and loved ones. There were only the occasional people stopping to stare now, maybe on their way home from work in the snow, but they stayed only long enough to read the wanted poster and study Opal’s face, looking for some resemblance to the picture.
“Francois Mond,” observed the man with the pipe. “Who could have guessed he was still alive.”
Edel glanced down at him. The man was actually attempting a conversation with him. The vampire just looked at him blankly.
His eyes were silver in the dark.
The man must have felt Edel was more ferocious than he realized because the man looked down suddenly and hurried away.
Edel took a step toward Opal. The vampire could see that he was shivering in the cold, which was probably for the best. He hadn’t succumbed to the night yet.
“Pardon me, sir,” the artist said, “but do you mind moving?”
Edel turned toward the man with a otherworldly grace. “It’s time for you to go home.” Then he looked out at the other people there, “It’s time for all of you to go home. It’s too cold to be out this late at night.”
The artist tucked his sketches under one arm and folded up his easel.
Then the two of them were alone.
“Francois,” he whispered.
Opal opened his eyes a crack and found himself face to face with Edel. He recognized him instantly. The ethereal beauty, and the silver eyes staring into his. A surge of fear and hope suddenly welled up in him.
“You didn’t tell Cameo?”
Any hope was dashed with that question. Frustrated, Opal closed his eyes and pressed the top of his head against the pole once more. “You aren’t going to set me free, are you?” His voice was weak from trying to talk above the mob and from being left out in the cold.
Edel removed his cloak with an unnatural elegance, and efficiency, then tied it around Opal’s shoulder. “The guard is coming.”
“I didn’t tell her because she wouldn’t understand.”
“Nor do I.”
“But you can read my mind.”
“Yes, but all of that pales in comparison to the atrocities that occurred when you were in charge of Shandow.”
“You say it as if I were alone.”
Edel simply looked at him. This was probably one of the most surprising things he had experienced in years. “All of the others are dead.”
“And you feel I should join them.”
“Francois Mond, you are the heart of the rebellion, and you put yourself here.”
Opal was astonished by Edel’s words. He thought that he would help Edel if he were in the same situation, but here was a vampire, who had undoubtedly taken the lives of more people than he could most likely imagine, condemning him for his part in the revolution.
Edel looked down at the snow-covered ground. “I can hear the soldiers. They’re coming.”
“Edel, wait,” Opal could see the vampire taking steps back. “Don’t… don’t leave please. Do you know what they’re going to do to me?”
The vampire was gone.
Chapter Eight
IT WAS NEARLY DAWN. Edel had lingered in the wood behind the palace for most of the night before he determined to come home. He decided to enter through a window, the same one he had brought Cameo in when she had first come to stay with him. He hoped she was maybe asleep, or at least in her room.
When he entered, she was not in the sitting room. He sped to the door, rushing to get to his tomb and wishing to avoid a confrontation.
“Edel!” She ran from the dining room. “Did you find Opal?”
For a moment he considered lying to her. “Yes. I saw him.”
“You didn’t bring him back?”
“No....”
“Was he all right? Did you set him free?”
The vampire brushed her aside as he crossed the room. “I couldn’t free him,” he said darkly.
She felt her heart fall. All of her hopes for Opal’s safety were fading, and she felt an iciness filling the pit of her stomach. “Why not?”
“My conscience wouldn’t let me do so.”
“Why not?”
He turned back to look at her. “He’s Francois Mond.”
“What?” She laughed, “What? They have him confused with Francois Mond! Oh, gods, they’ll kill him! We have to save him now—”
“He is Francois Mond.”
Cameo shook her head. “Black Opal is Francois Mond? No, I can’t believe that. Opal?” Her mind was racing with all the silly things that she had seen him do. All the preening, all the ridiculous arguments that he had had with Kyrian, his life as a highwayman. “No, that can’t be right.”
“I read his mind.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t you read his mind when he was here?”
“I didn’t really try to, no, and nothing came to me, nothing… of that nature. I did tell you that he seemed familiar to me though, and now I see why.”
Suddenly the conversation that she’d had with Opal back at the Lakestar made more sense to her. The discussion the two of them had had about Kyrian saving her soul, and the accusation she had made that he had done nothing more than break a few hearts in his time. If he was Francois, the architect of the revolution, then he had incited a people to rise up and overthrow the royals—overthrow their government and take matters into their own hands.
“He and his friends did more than murder the Belfours,” Edel said softly. “Do you have any idea what their army was doing all that time, when they were paranoid about a counter-revolution?”
“Intercepting the mail, throwing people in prisons.”
“It was more than that. They executed anyone suspected of being less than patriotic about the cause. The military used to roast women and their infants alive in bread ovens for amusement as they grew increasingly bored; thousands of innocents were killed, and it meant nothing. The monarchy was soon restored.”
“I can’t believe it could’ve been Opal. I know him.”
“You can’t believe it because he’s not the monster or the god everyone wants him to be.”
Her face hardened. “Maybe, but you’re trying to pin everything on one man. Are you saying he’s responsible for all of the horrors that came with the rebellion?”
“They hunted down all of his fellow conspirators. Only Francois Mond got away alive. He’s been on the run for fifteen years, Cameo. I don’t hold him completely responsible, but I do think he is responsible for his part in the play, don’t you?”
She met his eyes. “You are for the monarchy then?”
“No. But I’m not for his bloody rebellion either. If you had seen how things were—”
“I was here.”
“Then you know.” A pained expression came over his face. Edel had been mulling over everything he’d seen through Opal’s eyes for hours, and he still was not certain he had made the right decision leaving the man in Avamore’s hands. “He never should have come back here.”
Cameo took a deep breath. “That’s my fault.”
He felt a change in her emotions and fully expected her to turn and look at him the way that she did, sadly, and then cross the room to be closer to him.
“Please, you must let me go to him. Please, Edel.”
Edel felt himself pinned against the window seat. “I can’t.”
“This is my fault.”
“Oh, did you help him write his speeches? Did you publish them in the paper? Did you order the execution of the king? Or did you sit back from the sidelines and watch as the revolution took out some of your family members?”
Her mouth opened slightly.
“You told yourself they never helped you when your family fell into poverty, so you wished them ill regardless—”
“Yes, that’s right, and I thought I told you to stop reading my mind.”
He rolled his eyes. “And it doesn’t bother you at all that Opal is the man responsible for taking the lives of your relatives?”
She took a couple steps back toward the settee. “They abandoned us when my father was disgraced, when he died in prison. They let us fall into poverty.”
“You are related to the Belfours.”
Cameo turned away from him. “I’m a killer. I slaughtered Leon Belfour myself on Wick’s order, on… Avamore’s order.”
“You avoid my questions with melancholy.”
“Oh, do I? Forgive my selfishness.” She snapped as she looked back at him. “I know that I owe you for saving me from Haffef by taking me prisoner, and for saving me from Francois Mond by not allowing me to save his life.”
“It’s obviously pointless to converse with you right now.”
She took a drink. “It’s distant. I’m a Penmbrander. But I’m quite certain you already know that.”
“Yes, I know.” He was standing in front of the door.
She wondered if he knew just what had transpired there not long ago. That kiss. The breaking down of barriers between her and Opal finally. Did Edel have any idea of what his not saving her paramour was doing to her, or to her relationship with the vampire? Cameo couldn’t quite figure out w
hat Edel was thinking.
He touched the door lightly, “I know all of it.”
She shook her head, “Is this all about the rebellion for you?”
“It is.” He looked at her, “I had just left the Master and come here in search of refuge, and then in the middle of my moment of peace some fool throws all of Shandow into chaos. All of the horrors I had been trying to escape followed me here. All around me, everyone was in misery, dying, being imprisoned and tortured. People were starving but didn’t dare complain because that could be interpreted as being anti-revolution.
“I just wanted to mediate. To be left alone. But instead I got a rebellion. Francois is the last one to be rounded up, then so be it; let him die with the rest of the bastards who did this to the people. Who did this to your people!”
“Don’t speak for me. That’s not how I feel.”
“Forgive me, but I don’t think I understand how you feel at all. You don’t care that he murdered your family, but you do care that the man who murdered your family is going to be executed. Do I have that straight? And you’re going to blame me for all of it.”
“Francois, Opal, didn’t literally murder my family.”
“His speeches against the nobility did. Your family was a noble one, am I correct?”
“Yes, they were nobles,” she said coldly. “Opal made a speech, but he didn’t tell the people to kill my rather distant family members.”
“Oh no? I saw him sign the paperwork on many death warrants.”
“When you read his mind?”
“Yes.”
She drew a in a breath, deep in thought. “He carried me through the Graveyard of Yetta to get me to safety when I’d been shot. We barely knew each other then, but still he tried to help me. That’s the Opal I know. And isn’t that who Francois is also supposed to be? A defender of the people? A well-spoken individual who speaks for the rights of the poor? Didn’t you see that when you were reading his mind? Or was it only the monster you saw?”
“Opal has helped a lot of ladies in his time.”
She chuckled. “I’m sure; but that wasn’t the question.”
“I know what I experienced. I know what Shandow became after I returned home. The peace was shattered, and it was all for naught.”
Cameo and the Highwayman (Trilogy of Shadows Book 2) Page 11