The Dark Volume Read Online Free Page B

looked like after two days in the sea. She had seen a drowned sailor once on a beach and remembered—indeed, could never forget—his swollen and shapeless cast, as if submersion had half transformed him to a fish, with only his unseeing eyes and hanging open mouth showing protest at the horrid injustice done to his body. She imagined Roger's thin, nimble fingers, bobbing bloated and pale in the dark water, already subject to the gnawing of scavenger fish or industrious crabs. She pictured his softening face—
    “But the airship was gone,” Elöise went on. “Dragged out to sea, no doubt, by the water-logged balloon. Scraps of canvas washed ashore… but that was all.”
    “What,” Miss Temple forced herself to ask, “of the… bodies?”
    “We saw no sign. But they were inside the craft. They would be carried with it, down below.”
    “And all the glass books?”
    “All of them. And all the Comte's machines—everything they had brought to conquer Macklenburg.”
    Miss Temple exhaled. “Then it is truly finished.”
    Elöise shifted slightly.
    “And then the dead grooms were discovered—horses driven from the stable—and then the poor fisherman in his boat. The local folk have little doubt of the killer—the victims’ throats were all torn out most savagely, and this is a land where wolves are known. But after this—after Chang and Doctor Svenson had both taken their leave— the Jorgenses were discovered—”
    “But why did Chang go?”
    Elöise shifted her position to look into Miss Temple's face.
    “You and I have lived in the city. The villagers who took us in became frightened, in the sober light of day, by our strange appearance— you and I dressed as if we'd escaped a seraglio, and the Doctor a foreign soldier… but most of all by the Cardinal—his figure, the scars, the long red coat, the obvious capacity for violence. All of this brought suspicion upon us as these deaths began to appear so suddenly one after another. And of course Chang is a killer. Once the villagers began to whisper amongst themselves—once there were deaths —well, Doctor Svenson—”
    “And where is he ? If he went to make sure of the road, why did he not return?”
    “I do not know.” Elöise's voice sounded hollow. “The Doctor left the day before yesterday. We… I am ashamed to say we quarreled. I am a fool. In any event, I knew that I must stay with you, and that the two of us must leave as soon as you were fit. That we were to meet them—”
    “Where?”
    “My family has a cottage, outside the city. It will be safe, and a peaceful place for you to get your strength.”
    Miss Temple was silent. None of this made a bit of sense, from the wolves to the feeble excuses given for her own abandonment. Did Elöise think her so credulous, or was Elöise still speaking for the driver to hear? Surely she did not believe such nonsense…
    Miss Temple cleared her throat.
    “Will you and Doctor Svenson be married?” she asked.
    Elöise stiffened beside her. “I beg your pardon?”
    “I merely wondered.”
    “I—I'm sure I have not given it a thought—we have been too busy seeing to you, haven't we? And, my goodness, it feels we have not exchanged ten words of friendly conversation.”
    “You seemed quite disposed to one another.”
    “I barely know him, truly.”
    “When you were captured by the Comte, and taken away by Francis Xonck—at Harschmort House—the Doctor was especially keen that we save you.”
    “He is a kindly man.”
    “Why did you quarrel?”
    “I'm sure I do not remember.”
    “Perhaps you prefer Cardinal Chang,” wondered Miss Temple, her voice airy and musing. “He is more… dangerous…”
    “I have had enough of danger,” replied Elöise, with a touch of tartness. “Though I owe the Cardinal my life.”
    “What do you think of his eyes ?” asked Miss Temple.
    “It is a terrible thing,” Elöise said, after a careful moment. “Im possibly cruel.”

    MISS TEMPLE recalled