Merciless Reason (35 page)

Then he saw her, lying no more than fifty yards ahead, with the train bearing down on her. Even from here, he could read the abject terror on her face, feel it in his own body as he shared her emotions. She was gagged, and tied hand and foot. Her neck and ankles were roped to the rails. The sight was enough to galvanize him, to throw reins on the beast. He was bounding along on all fours now, more ape than man, running on his fists, knuckles leaving dents in the earth. Nate tried to reach out for the train, just as he had done with the leviathan, but it took all he had just to steer this animal he was becoming. Trying to control its instincts was like grabbing hold of a thrashing snake.

Humans were not made to use this power. At least, not yet. Their ability to reason was not strong enough. Nate had known that all along. If he let this power loose, his own nature could destroy him—it could destroy everything. But he no longer cared. Save Tatty, he thought, that one act of resolve giving him a hold over his base instincts. I'll do anything to save her. I am not a rational man, I am an animal … a beast. This is not an act of reason. I'll do anything to save her. If I have to, I'll kill anyone who gets in my way. He felt a red haze cloud his mind. I'll kill the world to save her.

He ran harder, covering ground at an inhuman pace. He was galloping ahead of the train. His angle would take him into its path before it reached Tatty. There was no way he could make these brutish hands untie the ropes, even if he'd had time. And tearing her free could kill her just as surely as being crushed under the train. Could he damage the tracks ahead of her, cause the train to derail? But it would slide forward, tumble … it was too close to her now. Then these weak, foolish, complicated thoughts were cast aside. There was little left of the human Nathaniel Wildenstern had been. There was only the rage, the ferocity that drove him on. Tatty lay helpless, screaming through her gag as she watched the train hurtle round the wide bend towards her. The crew could not see her black clothes in the dim light. Thirty yards, twenty, ten … the beast let out another roar. Charging up the low embankment towards the twenty-five ton locomotive, he lowered his right shoulder …

With a massive impact that buckled the steel chassis, the beast's body slammed diagonally into the right front corner of the locomotive. It was if the train had hit a cliff-face. Buffers gave way, cylinders split, the barrel-shaped smoke-box that formed the face of the train crumpled around the beast, breaking off the smokestack. Pistons broke free as the train's chassis twisted and contracted and wheels broke loose. The boiler burst, spraying pressurized water and steam across the crash-site. In an instant, the train was stopped dead in its tracks, pitching sideways off the rails. The locomotive absorbed the worst of the impact from the front, only to be struck again from behind, the rear of the engine thrown forwards and to the left as the momentum of the tender car and the carriages caused them to pile up against it, the whole length of the train folding like an accordion. The engine toppled over on its side, pulling the first two carriages over with it, down the low bank on the left side of the tracks. It took nearly a minute for all the sections of the zig-zagged train to stop moving, and still the sounds of creaking metal, splintering wood and breaking glass continued as the people aboard began screaming and waning.

The three crewmen were dead; some of the Wildensterns too, and nearly all of the rest of the family and their small cadre of servants were injured.

The beast stood over Tatty, resting the great weight of its back and shoulders on its knuckles. It felt almost no pain from the collision as it gazed down at her in curiosity. She stared up at it in astonishment, shock and disbelief. It knew on some level that this delicate creature was important to it, but it had forgotten why. She was not a mate, nor was she one of its offspring. Still, despite its ancient appetites, it had no desire to eat the meat off her bones.

When it noticed the dark grey, almost black stain creeping out along the ground from under its feet, it stepped back. Despite its brutish mind, a flicker of recognition, and alarm, crossed its broad features. Reaching down to the rail on which her neck was bound, it pulled it up, wrenching the nails out of the sleepers. It did the same with the other rail, and she was able to slide the ropes off the end. With a deep grunt, it gestured at her to run, but her ankles were still tied together. It took both loops of the ankle-rope in its thick fingers and broke them like thread, causing her to cry out in pain, but leaving her ankles free. Then it lifted her onto her feet and pushed her gently on her way with the backs of its fingers, as one might do a toddler who had fallen over. The delicate creature stumbled backwards, unable to take her eyes off the thing in front of her. The beast looked down and saw that the stain of rotten ground was spreading out in a wider circle. It had almost reached the feet of the little creature.

It bellowed at her, and she turned and fled.

“Truly remarkable,” a voice said from behind the beast. “You've opened my eyes.”

Gerald stood there, about twenty feet away but hovering nearly thirty feet in the air. The floating quality of his hair and clothes made him seem weightless. It appeared as if his injuries had already healed. He had the expression of a man who had just experienced some divine revelation.

“I should have realized it long ago,” he added, lifting his arms and feeling the air that he could grip in his hands. “A race as advanced as that which created the particles could naturally have made them as instinctive to use as their own bodies. And there I was, bashing out tunes like some idiot savant, not understanding the power that I held at my fingertips. Thank you, Nate.”

He regarded the beast with a critical eye and shook his head sadly.

“There's nothing left of you in there, is there, old chum? You let them release your true nature. Tch, tch. Clarity of thought and intention was never one of your strengths. And what's this mess you're leaving in the ground beneath you? Don't tell me you've gone and soiled yourself—”

Gerald was barely fast enough to react as the beast seized one of the detached, train wheels and hurled it at him like a discus. He raised his hands and it slowed in mid-air a few feet away from him, then vaporized, leaving only a cloud of smoke that smelled of iron. The concentration that had taken caused him to sink towards the ground, and Gerald caught himself before he hit, willing himself to rise once more. The fat steel cylinder end of one of the train's pistons smashed him out of the air, throwing him into the wreckage of the train. As Gerald sat up, the beast raised its giant club again, the weapon nearly twice the creature's own height. Blood flowed from Gerald's nose and mouth and his head had a lop-sided shape. He stood up, staggered, and sat down again, blinking as he found his thoughts clouded by a red haze. With dull eyes, he stared down at his hands, and then gasped as an animal rage filled his body with adrenaline, that swelling seeming to change the very shape of his muscles. His neck and shoulders bulged, and he stood up and beat at his chest, wanting to let out the feeling surging up inside him.

Then the beast that had once been his best friend brought the train piston crashing down on him. Like a caveman with a wooden club, the beast battered its rival's body over and over again, until all sign of life had been extinguished. Then it stood over the corpse, its lungs heaving in long, deep breaths. From under its feet, the stain of the rotten ground spread outwards. Gerald's body was consumed in less than minute, then the steel and iron of the train parts began dissolving into rust, the rails of the track following suit, the wood of the sleepers rotting to pulp, all eaten up in the steadily widening circle of disintegration.

The beast was staring down at the growing area of rot when Daisy arrived with Edgar close behind her. They had been forced into shelter by the force of the inexplicable storm that Gerald had summoned, but had emerged from the woods in time to see Nate's collision with the train. Or at least, the thing that had once been Nate. Daisy got down off her horse, hurrying across the grass towards the railway embankment. The beast saw her and leaped into the air, landing outside the circle of rot, snarling at her but not attacking. She came towards him through the debris of the train crash. Her trembling hands were raised in front her, speaking quietly in a voice that had gone quite hoarse as tears ran down her cheeks.

“Ssshhhh,” she whispered. “It's all right now. It's over. You can come back to me. Come back to me now, Nate. It's you, Nate. I know it's you in there. Come back to me.”

The beast settled onto its knees, a feeling of calm coming over it. It flinched slightly as her hands reached tentatively for its face, but after a few moments it let her touch it. Daisy placed her fingers gently on its cheeks, feeling how different the shape of the jaw and cheekbones were to Nate's, how tough its hide was compared to Nate's skin. Even as she caressed them, she could feel a change in them. The beast's massive frame was subsiding, shrinking. Air was exhaled from its lungs as its chest reduced in size. The hostility faded from its eyes as the face contracted around them.

She did not notice that the rot was still eating past their feet, hissing and sizzling like fried meat as it crossed under the beast's heels. It was only when she felt a burning under the soles of her own feet that she looked down and gasped in shock. The ground underfoot was a burnt, slimy black. The stench rising from it was incredible. Whatever this was, it was dissolving her shoes. Then she remembered what Nate had told her about the prehistoric disaster.

“What the bloody hell
is
that thing?” someone shouted.

The beast looked up to see some of the Wildensterns making their way awkwardly down from the wreckage of the carriages. Gideon was at their head, cradling a broken wrist to his chest. He was staring at this monstrosity, holding his shotgun pistol in his free hand. Raising it up, he took aim at the creature. Clearly, the fact that it had rammed a train had not suggested to him that killing it might take more than a shotgun shell.

The beast let out a roar at the Wildensterns. Its body tensed, and Daisy shook her head, waving Gideon back. It was getting to its feet, starting to grow again, when she was pulled backwards, nearly throwing her off her feet. She landed outside the circle of rot.

Edgar strode past her, across the blackening ground.

“Run!” he shouted back at her. “Run, and don't look back! RUN!”

Then he turned and embraced his son. Holding the beast down on its knees, it took all of Edgar's considerable strength to cling on to the creature. Clutching its head into his chest, he put his mouth close to its ear.

“It is my fault you are what you are, my son. This is
my
burden to bear. Let me take it from you.”

The beast twisted and writhed in his arms, but he could tell it was listening to his voice. He kept talking, kept his arms locked around it, despite the burning sensation that crept into his feet and up his calves, despite the blows it laid into his body, the claws it raked across his back. He kept talking to the beast as its cries grew more human and its blows grew weaker, though the pain Edgar felt became excruciating, and he now screamed, his own body breaking down as the rot took it. When his own strength began to fail and his legs crumpled beneath him, he kept talking, kept whispering, then gasping, then his breathing became too labored, and he could not summon the words, and now it was the creature, his
son
, who was holding
him
up, taking
his
weight.

Nate felt the rot stop eating the ground beneath him as his consciousness returned. He could think again, the savage urges of his primal self had faded away. And with them went the intelligent particles' drive to destroy. He was kneeling on the ground, the last shreds of his clothes hanging from his naked body. His cheeks were wet with tears, his throat ragged from crying. His body ached, his muscles sent bolts of pain out when he moved, and his skin felt stretched to the point of splitting; every joint felt dislocated, and lined with gritty sand. When he opened his eyes, he looked up into the partially decomposed skull of his father. Edgar's remains fell in pieces from his arms, the bones all but stripped off their flesh. The engimal claw thumped to the ground.

Nate had nothing left in him; even his sorrow at the sight of his father's body was a dull, numbed feeling. More arms wrapped around him, warm living flesh, as Daisy and Tatty embraced him, hugging him tightly and then helping him to his feet. They supported him as he walked across the hundred yards of blackened ground, past the trees that had fallen, past the train locomotive that had disintegrated into a pile of rust. They walked out of the vast, sunken hollow of dead earth and up to the green grass where he could lie down and stare at the sky. It was a long, long time before he could bring himself to speak.

“I have to leave,” he croaked out of a horribly dry throat. “Before this happens again.”

EPILOGUE

NO END OF KNOTS TO UNRAVEL

DAISY STOOD IN THE ROSE GARDEN
and regarded the burnt husk of a building that had once been Wildenstern Hall. A few of the older sections, further out from the tower, had survived, but most of it was in ruins. Smoke rose in a lazy cloud over it. Days had passed, and still there were parts that burned. Some of the rafters and beams in the upper floors of the tower continued to smolder, and it was dangerous to approach as burnt debris still occasionally fell down within the walls.

Nate and Tatty were walking through the gardens nearby, talking in low voices. Nate wore warm clothes and a heavy coat, and still he looked cold, despite the sunny day. Cathal walked not far behind them, lost in his thoughts. His maimed, bandaged hand was tucked into his jacket, just as it was whenever he was out in public. Elvira had suggested that he take to wearing Brutus's engimal claw, but he had firmly declined.

Elizabeth had disappeared, taking Leopold with her. Daisy had already hired investigators to find them. Despite his faults as a father, and his own doubts, Nate was entitled to contact with his son.

A few other members of the family were around, but it was Daisy who was supervising the clean-up operation, ensuring that anything that could be salvaged from the house was pulled out before the damaged walls were demolished. She looked to the driveway that led round the stables and saw a hansom pull up. Inspector Urskin got out and waved to her. Then he helped another man out of the small carriage, one who supported himself with the help of a crutch, and Daisy saw with delight that it was Clancy, alive and clearly recovering from his injuries. Leaving Clancy to talk to some of the staff who came over to him, Urskin took his leather case from the cab and started towards Daisy. He had been a regular visitor since the assault on Wildenstern Hall.

“Your Grace,” he greeted her, taking off his hat as he approached. “Mister Clancy was down at the Castle, helping us with his enquiries, and I thought I'd offer him a lift home, as I was coming out here myself. How goes the work?”

“Painstakingly slow, I'm afraid,” she replied. “The place is still dangerous. It'll be a while before we can start rebuilding.”

“It is definitely your plan to rebuild, then?”

“Definitely,” she said, nodding her head, as if to reinforce her decision. “Though I think the new building will be a little less … ostentatious. How goes your investigation, Inspector?”

“There is a lot that doesn't make sense, frankly. But then, how does one fathom a mind like Gerald Gordon's? The man was a genius, of that there can be no doubt, but to my mind he was an utter fiend as well.”

“He considered himself a slave to absolute and merciless reason,” Daisy told the policeman. “Though I can't pretend to know what his jails were.” She was careful to ask the next question with a casual tone: “Have you managed to work out the purpose of the giant engimal that was found out near the train tracks? Or how it caused the damage to the ground?”

“It's a complete mystery, so far,” he answered. “Because of the events in Glendalough, the army were somewhat late arriving at the scene. One might almost suspect that was a deliberate ploy on the part of the late Mister Duffy. But the general believes the creature to have been a weapon of some sort. The army has experimented with such things themselves, but with little to show for it. This one seems to have suffered a catastrophic failure. The army's engimologists are intrigued by the whole matter. They say the damage to the monster seems to have been quite spontaneous—no doubt the result of Mister Gordons tinkering.”

“Quite,” said Daisy.

“I'm here on a different matter, however, your Grace,” he added tentatively. “Relating to Mister Gordon's …
factory
in Glendalough. The property was purchased by Duffy shortly before we made our assault on the mine, as you're no doubt aware.” He paused here for a second. “The circumstances behind the deal are … questionable. But we found other records in Mister Gordon's office in that mine, which lead me to believe that he was involved in a number of other suspicious business dealings that might shed light on this mystery.”

“And you're here to ask me if there might be records of any other dodgy business practices going on under Gerald's management?” Daisy suggested.

Urskin shrugged and nodded.

“As you can see, the family's business headquarters, which were also housed in the main tower, burned with the rest of the building,” Daisy said, gesturing at the ruin. “However, for the last few years, I have taken the liberty of making duplicates of all our most important documents and having them transferred to the city, for safekeeping at Leinster House. I will ensure you're given full access, Inspector. And I think I might be able to point you in the direction of one or two of the more questionable operations. There is a lot about this family that needs to be brought out into the light.”

“But nothing that would incriminate you, I trust?” the inspector asked.

“Me, Inspector?” Daisy laughed, clapping her hands at the absurdity of his question. “I cannot sign contracts or checks! I cannot vote or even own
property
, let alone run an empire like the North Atlantic Trading Company. I'm merely a
woman
, Inspector! A glorified secretary who even if she wanted to could not make decisions of any significance. I'm sure any court in the land would accept that the complexities of modern business are beyond my simple comprehension.”

“Of course, how stupid of me.” Urskin grinned.

Nate, Tatty and Cathal were walking towards them. The changes that had been wrought upon them were evident in their faces, and in the way they moved. They all looked older, but in different ways. Cathal was no longer a boy; his reckless, stubborn nature seemed to have mellowed somewhat. Perhaps it was the loss of his hand, but he was less vocal, less contrary. Instead, he had a more solid, resolute air. There was still something of the fire in his eyes, but it smoldered rather than blazed.

Tatiana was still as bright as a button, but Daisy caught her looking towards the hills from time to time, no doubt musing about the secret life of adventurous freedom she had been forced to give up. Like Cathal, she appeared more settled, more resolved on her course in life. There was a new tone in her voice, one that expected to be taken seriously—not an expectation that Tatty would have seen a need for only a few months ago. She and Cathal had already expressed their intention to stay and help rebuild Wildenstern Hall.

Nate had spoken very little since the day of his battle with Gerald, but he and Daisy had spent as much time as possible alone together in the chaotic days that followed. He was overcome with guilt for what he had done—deserting his son and family for years, for failing to stop Gerald the first time they fought, and for the subsequent deaths his savage family had caused, including Duffy's. There were also the deaths for which Nate held himself directly responsible, including those of the train crew and, of course, his own father. But it was the fear of what he might still do that occupied his thoughts for most of his waking hours.

The strain was telling on his face, but Tatty was like a tonic to him, and Daisy liked to think that she herself was too. There were times she would catch him staring at her, and he would look away, smiling and blushing like an adolescent. It was at times like these that he did not look twenty years older than he was. He was eyeing her now as the three of them came up to where she and the inspector stood on the path that ran through the rose beds.

Urskin said hello to the others, and then excused himself, walking off to join his constables, who were engaged in the task of questioning the Wildenstern staff about the night of the fire. There were a lot of servants, and Daisy had instructed them to be completely honest with the inspector. Nothing they were likely to say would leave him any the wiser. And whether he believed them or not would be another matter. Add those stories to the colorful and invariably dishonest tales related by the family members and the detective would find himself with no end of knots to unravel. Daisy would help, where she could.

“I don't envy him his task,” Cathal muttered as he watched the policeman walk away.

“Wait 'til I show him the business files,” Daisy remarked. “They'll send his head spinning.”

“I'm not entirely sure his head is capable of spinning,” Tatty commented. “He is quite the most grounded man I've ever met. I wonder if he could be convinced to come and work for us? We could use a man who knows how to enforce the law. We'll have Clancy on our side, of course, but he's getting old, and I fear he's been shot once too often.”

“And Father has agreed to join us,” Cathal said. “Though I must say, we had to do some arm-twisting. He finally said something about ‘testing his moral backbone.' He was never one to shy away from a challenge.”

Tatty took Cathal's hand, entwining her fingers in his and looking into his eyes. He smiled back at her.

“We've been thinking about what you said,” he said to Daisy, squeezing Tatty's hand. “And we've decided that this is what we want to do.”

Daisy exchanged glances with Nate, who nodded.

“Then I'll stay with you as long as it takes to get you settled in,” she said. “We'll have to inform the family, of course. This is a complete breach of the rules governing inheritance, but the family is so divided right now it won't make much difference. They're going to hate us no matter what we do.”

“Think of them as a pack of animals,” Nate said to them in a hoarse voice. “They just need to know who's in charge.”

The following evening would be Nate's last at Wildenstern Hall. Despite the protests of those closest to him, he insisted he could not stay there. For everyone's sake, he needed to get as far from the family as possible and find a place where he could live a life free of violence. Though there was no need for the family to know the
whole
truth.

Three long dining-room tables had been found unscathed by the fire and taken out onto the lawn. They were set with white linen tablecloths, cutlery and dishes brought from Leinster House. In that warm evening, the family sat down to a relatively simple dinner, roast meat and vegetables prepared over fires made from the burnt wood and charcoal from the ruined building that stood in the background. Nate sat at the head of the main table, his rightful place as Patriarch. He took little part in the conversation at dinner, much of which was taken up by what would be uncovered by the police investigation, and what all these dramatic events meant for the future. As they were finishing off the main course, Nate stood up and tapped his glass with a knife to call for their attention.

Everyone looked to him, expecting him to raise a toast of some kind. Instead, his first words were to the servants, telling them to remove themselves from the vicinity for the next ten minutes. They promptly obeyed, leaving the family to stare suspiciously at Nate.

“As you all know, I'm leaving,” he announced. “But I won't be going far. What you may
not
know is that Daisy will be joining me, once things have settled down here.” She reached her hand out to him and he took it, smiling sadly at her. Then he continued: “I'm leaving Cathal and Tatiana in charge of the house, and the family business.”

There were protests and cries of outrage all down the table, but most were quickly silenced as Nate raised his hand.

“Those whelps?” Elvira bellowed, ignoring his call for order. “Why, the boy is hardly out of short trousers, and the girl is … is a
girl
, by God! And a flibbertigibbet of the highest order!”

“As if you were any different, when you were my age,” Tatty muttered under her breath.

“You don't seriously think you can leave these urchins in charge?” Gideon blustered. “I won't have it, by the Lord Harry. It won't stand!”

“They will have assistance from others we're bringing in,” Nate said firmly, “but
you
will all do your utmost to help them. That is, those of you who are still left after the police have purged this family of its worst offenders. You might have trouble accepting their authority in the beginning, so let me make this very, very clear, in terms I know you can understand …”

Daisy reached under her chair and handed him a box. He set it on the table in front of him and opened the lid. Then he carefully lifted Brutus's decomposing, decapitated skull out of the box and laid it on the table in front of the box. There was a chorus of indrawn breaths. They all recognized the head, and those who hadn't experienced the battle that had destroyed the train had certainly been told about it later, in lurid detail.

“The Rules of Ascension are being consigned to history,” Nate told them. “There will be no more attacks or assassinations … except by
me
. I know you have no respect for the law, so there's no point telling you that we'll call the police on you. In time, perhaps you'll learn to take the law more seriously. You obeyed Gerald well enough, and I think you know enough about recent events to be sure I won't waste time whistling or playing the fiddle to get your attention. You know how I like to keep things simple. Now, I'm going away. And for the time being, there will be one, very simple rule for you to obey without question.” He tapped the top of Brutus's head to emphasize each word: “Don't. Make. Me. Come. Back.”