The doctor shoves Tom back a few feet. “Sleep it off, Craddock.Go home.”
“I like it better in town, thanks.”
Besides the alcohol, I detect the scent of jealousy. Not thatTom wants me back. He’s just mad because Kelly has something that once belongedto him. I feel his dark gaze on my face. “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?”he asks, sounding truly perplexed. “One minute, I want to break your prettyneck. The next I want to kiss it.”
“Shut up,” Kelly interrupts. “Don’t make me hit you. Itwouldn’t be a fair fight.”
Tom’s laughter is cold and hard. “And you’re such an ethicalman? Won’t punch a drunk, but you’ll steal his girl.” He flicks the brim of hishat. “Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. I’m off to find a better class of people.”
Tom steps around us, and pushes through the batwing doors of anearby saloon. I listen as he greets the barkeep and a few of the working girls.Grief nearly drowns me when I compare the kind, gentle person Tom once was withthe bitter wastrel I just encountered.
“He’s the town hellion now,” Kelly says. “If it’s any comfort,I do believe his current behavior is just a phase.”
It isn’t a comfort. Or a phase. Tom is still being influencedby my enemy. I felt the supernatural power of Archimendax, heard it control Tomwhen he spoke. How does one overcome such evil? I must locate that damn MaryArden and get her help with this. Surely Willard Little Hawk would look for herif I paid him.
Kelly hires a buggy and instructs the driver to take us to TheRevels. I do not know where I will live now, but I’d like to get some thingsfrom my bedroom. The books Cordie read to me, the china teapot I received fromMama when I turned sixteen, my clothes and shoes. Kelly helps me into thevehicle and then climbs up, taking the seat next to mine. The horse movesforward, and we begin the journey to my old home.
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Kelly says. “I thoughtit would be too upsetting, but I’m not so sure now. Might be therapeutic.”
What? I sign.
He leans back and tells all. “There was a riot at the asylumlast week. Some of the inmates got to Faust. It wasn’t pretty. They used thescarificator on his arms and legs, and left the man strapped down. Poeticjustice, I suppose, but Faust hemorrhaged and died. Slowly and alone.”
I think of the words I carved in the Pit. Lex talionis—aneye for an eye. Having killed the doctor many times in my imagination, I amsurprised I’m not happier over this development. I feel sick instead.
“Oddly, he was missing all of his fingers on one hand. Theyappeared to have been removed with a surgical saw post mortem.”
The swirling in my belly grows. Was that the work of HarrySwinton? He held quite a grudge against the doctor. And Faust said Harry hatedme, too. Even before I threw a dozen knives at him. I swallow and crossmy arms, hugging myself.
Kelly concludes the gruesome report. “Patients attacked theguards and tore up the place. Caused a fire in the west wing, a massiveexplosion. With so many bodies hidden under the rubble, it isn’t known how manypeople escaped the blast.”
I wonder then about Matron. Watts. Titus. Roy. After fearing mytormentors each day at Ironwood, it’s difficult to accept that they’re injuredor dead. And what of Gabriel? Did he survive? I doubt it. I’m lacking faith atthe moment.
The buggy turns left, horse’s hooves striking cobblestones.We’re at The Revels. I know this place so well and yet it doesn’t feelwelcoming to me in the least. After the vehicle stops, Kelly gets out and liftsme down. Someone opens the front door. He walks across the porch and the solesof his shoes sound smooth against the stone—evidence of fine leather in action.
“You’re a pleasing sight, Miss Hester. It’s good to have youback.”
Simmons Harrow? I smile, relieved to hear his friendly voice.
Kelly hands me my cane, and I take the steps slowly. Thefirst thing I notice is the quiet, the sense of emptiness. No gossiping maidsor fussy valet. No Cordelia Collins. I move across the foyer, and reach out totouch the old grandfather clock, but it isn’t there. The house even smellsbarren without the aroma of yeast and butter punctuating the air. Vases ofsweet-scented flowers. Dried lavender.
My footsteps echo through the dining room where I ate with myparents last November. Nothing but empty space. I proceed to the library andfind it vacant as well. Kelly has followed me quietly to this point, but hewalks to my side now.
“What has happened, I wonder?”
I shrug. No idea.
Sim hovers near the threshold. I gesture for him to join us,but he hesitates. “I’m not sure where to begin…”
“Get on with it, boy,” Kelly says. “Speak your mind.”
“Her father lost all his money.”
With those half dozen words, it is as though a verbal dam hassuddenly broken inside of Sim. He releases a torrent of news all at once. “People are saying he cheated his business partners. That he would have gone tojail if he hadn’t sold everything and paid them off. And no one’s seen him inweeks—not since he fired the staff. It’s just Willard and me here now, keepingwatch over the place until the new owner arrives.”
I can’t imagine Father without wealth. Cheating on his businesspartners is far easier to grasp. Maybe this was the cause of the desperatedrinking after Mama died. He had been exposed as a crook and his carefullybuilt empire was crumbling.
“Must have owed them an enormous amount,” Kelly says. “What ashock for you, Hester.”
I nod, although I don’t agree. After the last few months, I’dbe surprised if my father’s greed affected me deeply enough to cause shock. Ifeel nothing. I might even like The Revels more without its riches.
Fate’s use of irony in my life again.
Sim clears his throat. “There’s a letter for you, miss. I putit in the study.”
The doctor and I walk to father’s old sanctum,
