The Madman’s Daughter (36 page)

He shyly handed me the box. “I wanted to bring you this.”

I took it, feeling guilty. “Thank you.”

His big hands, empty now, plucked nervously at his pockets. “I also wanted to ask you … wanted to ask …”

I jerked my head toward the room. “Come inside.” I tried to listen, but my head raced with what needed to be done. I set the box on my dressing table. We still had to fill the jars and waterskins. Find something to use for shade. A weapon would be handy, a pistol or a knife. I dug through the trunks, looking for the shears. Where had I left them?

I glanced at Balthazar, who shifted his weight back and forth. “Yes? Ask me what?”

“Take me with you,” he said. “Take me to Lon-don.”

My hands closed over something hard and sharp between two dresses. The shears. But just as quickly, my fingers went slack. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“Montgomery says you’re leaving the island. You and the other … five-fingers.” His lip trembled. “I’ve got five fingers,” he said, holding up his hand. “I’ve crossed the sea. I’ve been to Lon-don. I can pretend. Like actors in a play, Montgomery says. And I will help you. You’ll need a servant.” His mouth broke into that odd panting smile that meant he was nervous.

I leaned on the dresser, closing my eyes. He’d clearly spent some time composing this request. It was true that he could pass for human—a mutilated, deformed man whom people shrank from in the streets. But that wasn’t why I hesitated.

The reason was because I was terrified of taking Balthazar—or any of Father’s creations—off the island. Father’s brilliant and horrible discoveries had to stay lost on that small bit of land in the South Pacific, exiled with him, never to leave.

Balthazar was still smiling. He was so hopeful it broke my heart. I stared at my reflection in the fractured mirror, knowing I hadn’t the strength to tell him the truth.

“Promise you’ll tell no one?” I asked. I hated myself for lying. Destroying Father’s laboratory had been simple, but a single lie to this dog-faced beast made my stomach heave. He nodded enthusiastically. I swallowed, trying to keep the
bile down. “You won’t be able to tell anyone about this place. It will have to be a secret.”

He nodded again vigorously. “Like actors in a play.” His hands clamped together.

I looked at a spot just over his left ear. It made the lie easier. “Then you may come.”

His face broke into a genuine smile. He scratched at his nose, trying to hide his excitement. My heart tore, just a little, right along the ventricular septum.

I shoved the shears into my pocket. “But we aren’t going anywhere if Father doesn’t find Montgomery.” I cocked my head, wondering if Balthazar had any sense that his master had been taken. I placed my hand on his hulking shoulder, wondering how to explain. “Some of the islanders took him. I don’t know where. I want you to be strong, no matter what happens. Not to worry. Can you do that?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not worried. I know where Montgomery is.”

My body went rigid. “You do? Where?”

“He’s with Ajax. I heard the birds talking about it.”

I stared at him, speechless. The birds
talking
? All those whispers I’d heard in the jungle hadn’t been my imagination after all. But that wasn’t what disturbed me most. “Ajax?
Jaguar?
Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, miss, sure.”

I sank to the bed. Balthazar was so calm about it. Didn’t he know …? “Ajax is dangerous,” I said carefully. “He’s no longer himself. He’s a beast now. He’s regressed—do you know what that means?”

Balthazar frowned. He thought Jaguar was still the man who used to tell bedtime stories to Alice.

Something else he’d said came back to me. “Father went to the village to look for Montgomery.”

Balthazar shook his head. “He won’t find Montgomery there. Ajax is almost always—”

“In his cabin,” I finished. Father was headed in the wrong direction. By the time he came back, Jaguar might have killed Montgomery, if he hadn’t already.

I had to return to the cabin.

I
HURRIED TO THE
barn, fear making my footsteps light as a sigh. Jaguar’s cunning eyes haunted my thoughts. Father believed the monster and Jaguar were one and the same, but I knew better. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still dangerous, though. He was clever as a man, with nothing to hold his predator instincts in check. As far as what the monster was, I could only form half-thought-out theories. A beast that had regressed on its own. Something that had escaped from Father’s laboratory. Something worse than I could dream.

Father had taken Duchess, the more nimble of the horses. Duke snorted and pawed the straw when I came in. I touched his velvety muzzle, seeing the fear in his white-rimmed eyes.

“We’ll find him,” I said, laying my hand on the white stripe across his nose. I picked up the saddle, staggering under its weight. It still smelled faintly of oil from the last time Montgomery had cleaned it.

“You shouldn’t go,” a voice said behind me. I nearly
dropped the saddle. Edward stood in the doorway, breathing hard, looking disheveled. “It isn’t safe.”

I propped the saddle on my knee, trying to hoist it onto Duke’s back. I grunted with the effort. “Father’s gone to the village, but Montgomery’s not there. Jaguar has him.”

“It’s dangerous! Jaguar’s regressed. They all have. And the monster—”

“I’ve seen the monster,” I said. The memory of the claws curling around the bars in my bedroom window made my blood race. I thought of the darkened barn, the smell of the monster, the weight of its presence so close. “It could have killed me and it didn’t.”

“What makes you think it wasn’t toying with you? It doesn’t have reason, Juliet. It’s an animal.”

I straightened the saddle. “Hand me that girth strap,” I said.

He didn’t move. I pushed past him and ripped it down from the wall, then buckled it to one side and ran it under Duke’s belly. I looped the buckle and tugged as hard as I could, but the girth wouldn’t cinch.

“Blast!” I muttered.

Edward’s hand fell over mine. I swallowed, wishing he’d just stay away and make this easier on both of us.

“Don’t go.” The softness in his voice wrenched something deep inside me.

“I have to. I’m sorry. Montgomery …”

“There’s something I have to tell you.” His hand worked the buckle straps like it was me he wanted to be holding, and the saddle leathers were a poor substitute.

He needed to let me go. Because only then could I let
him
go.

“Don’t say it,” I said, almost a plea. “I love Montgomery.”

But deep inside, my God, I
wanted
him to say it. To kiss me feverishly and end this terrible pull between us.

His lips parted. My mouth fell open, struggling for breath. I’d been drawn to him since I first saw him, I realized. So desolate, so damaged. He was close enough that I could smell the salt on his clothes. Desire smoldered in his eyes and stole my breath, and I felt myself drifting closer.

Duke stamped his hoof, letting out a shrill whinny, and the moment was gone.

Edward let out a ragged breath. I fell back, startled by what I’d been about to do. My fingers fumbled to tighten the buckle.

“Then let me come with you,” he said.

I shook my head and pulled myself onto the horse, arranging the folds of my dress hurriedly around the saddle. “There’s only one horse.” But the truth was, if I stayed a moment longer in his presence, I wouldn’t trust myself not to fall into his scarred arms.

U
NDER THE JUNGLE CANOPY
it was already growing dark. The wagon road was easy to follow, but the leaves blended together in the dusky light, hiding the side paths that would take me to the cabin.

I only knew the general direction: close to the beach, near the winding stream. I hoped Duke would know the way to the cabin better than I. I found what looked like an
opening and turned him toward it, but he stopped. I dug my boots into his sides, but he didn’t budge.

“Come on, you old block,” I muttered.

A snarl tore through the trees. Duke’s muscles tightened between my legs, just a second of warning before he bucked and bolted down the path. I grabbed a fistful of mane, just trying to stay on as leaves and branches slapped against my face.

I gasped as he suddenly lurched off the trail onto a narrow path. I leaned in closer, almost hugging his neck. Thin branches tore at my hair. I kept my eyes squinted to focus. A single low branch could throw me from his back.

The trail turned sharply into a valley. Each bounce nearly sent me flying. I gripped Duke’s sides with my ankles, tugging on the reins. But it was useless. He slowed only when we reached the bottom of the valley. His gallop gave way to a trot, and then the trot to a walk. I looked around helplessly.

We were totally lost.

A crash or rustle would sound behind us every few minutes, but when I turned there was nothing. My heart raced.

Another crash, closer.

My throat closed up. All I could think of were Alice’s feet dripping with blood. The three claws reaching through my window. The wet footprints on the porch. I squeezed my eyes shut, counting to five. Duke picked his way through the maze of trees, effortlessly. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked to find how dark the jungle had gotten. Dusk was falling quickly.

Ahead, something glinted through the trees, so brightly it burned white spots in my eyes. As we rode closer, I realized it was the reflection of the fading sun on a tin roof. My hands tightened on the reins. The roof was patchy, only a few shiny surfaces left.

Jaguar’s cabin.

Duke stopped at the edge of the clearing. I studied the quiet cabin, wondering what I’d find inside. Maybe a feral jaguar, ready to slash at whatever warm, breathing thing came through the door. I climbed off Duke and tied him to a post with a quick knot. I scrambled onto the wooden porch, feeling the same fear in my throat as I’d felt the first time. The three-toed tracks had long ago disappeared, but they lingered in my memory.

I peered in the glass window, but it was dark inside. I unlatched the door before I lost my nerve. The door gave an inch but stopped, either locked or stuck. I pushed my weight against the door, then harder, and harder again, until it suddenly gave. I fell into Jaguar’s cabin.

Shaken, I stumbled to my feet. It seemed as vacant and abandoned as before—even the flower was gone from the mantel. I brushed aside dead leaves with my boot and found shattered pieces of the glass vase. I ran back to the window to make sure Duke was still there, needing the reassurance.

He grazed calmly in the fading light in the front yard. I let out a deep breath and rested my forehead against the cool windowpane. I wasn’t sure if I felt an urge to laugh or to cry.

Duke suddenly jerked his head up. Loose grass fell from his mouth. He seemed to stare straight at me, ears
twitching, though I knew it was too dark to see into the cabin. An uneasy feeling stirred in my belly. I felt trapped. An overwhelming urge to get out of the cabin pulled at my gut. Maybe it was the pieces of deer inside me, the animal instinct, sensing a predator was near.

I flung open the door.

Montgomery stood in the doorway, his shirt torn, his hair loose.

“Juliet?” he started, but I grabbed his shirt in my fists. I touched his face, his chest, his hair, to make sure he was real.

“You’re here,” I said. “You’re alive.”

“What are
you
doing here?”

I buried my face in his chest. My breath came ragged. He was alive. We were going to get off the island, all of us, in one piece. I started shaking. He wrapped an arm around my back.

“Try to calm down,” he said. “Everything’s going to be all right. Here, sit down.” He led me to the dingy bed. “What are you doing here?” he asked again. “It’s dangerous. I told you never to return to the jungle.”

“I had to find you. Where’s Jaguar? Are you all right? What happened on the beach?”

He pushed his hair back. There was a fresh cut on his arm, but it no longer bled. He started to answer, but I jumped up.

A figure filled the doorway.

“Jaguar,” I said. I slid my hand into my pocket. Found the shape of the shears.

He paused in the doorway, his slitted cat eyes shifting between us. He walked upright, but only barely. His clothes were gone. Fine golden hair covered his body like a thick mane. He’d regressed, but not as much as the others. I pulled the shears out of my pocket, but Montgomery pushed them back in.

“We can trust him.”

Trust him?
Jaguar slipped in but hovered around the outer edges of the room. He moved more gracefully than ever, as though he might drop to four legs at any moment and slink closer. His long claws clicked on the wooden floorboards. He could slice our throats in a single swipe, and I was supposed to
trust
him?

His golden eyes met mine. I felt a twist inside me, fear and incredulity mixed in one.

“He’s lost the ability to talk, but not his reason. He’s not like the others.” Montgomery sat down in the desk chair. “He conspired with the water beasts to flip our boat. He dragged me here.”

My head whipped to Jaguar. “You? We nearly drowned!”

“It was me they wanted. They weren’t trying to kill me. They wanted to warn me. They didn’t know if you and Edward could be trusted.”

I watched Jaguar from the corner of my eye. He squatted in the corner, half hidden in shadow, so still not even his whiskers moved.

“Warn you of what?” I asked, breathless.

Montgomery ran a hand through his hair, his eyes shifting to Jaguar. “The beasts are going to attack the
compound. They’re after the doctor, but they’ll kill anyone they find.”

The hair on my arms rose, making my skin tingle. “When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? Edward’s there!” I jumped up, pacing. “We’ve got to leave the island. Now.” But Montgomery stayed seated. He rubbed his jaw. There was something he wasn’t telling me.

“What is it?” I asked.

A low growl came from the corner. Jaguar came out of the shadow, slinking toward the fireplace. I took a step back, but Montgomery didn’t seem concerned by his presence.