A Cold Legacy

“You were exactly what we were looking for,” Elizabeth said. Hope, mixed with motherly affection, filled her voice. “It doesn’t mean he didn’t love you like a daughter, or that I don’t think of you as family as well. That’s why the von Steins have kept the secret for so long: because we’re family, and family makes us strong. We take care of each other, Juliet.” She paused. “I’ve taken care of you, even at great risk.”

 

 

Montgomery’s hand squeezed mine hard. “Because you want something from her,” he argued.

 

“No. Because I want to give her something. Knowledge. Trust. Family—one that won’t disappoint her.”

 

I looked down at Montgomery’s hand over mine, afraid to speak. I had promised him. But that had been before I’d known there was an oath, and a code of conduct, and that such science was even possible.

 

Which meant more—keeping a promise, or a chance to achieve great things?

 

I stood before the temptation grew too strong. “I’m not like my father. You’re wrong if you think I am.” I signaled to Montgomery that it was time to leave, but she grabbed my arm. I looked at her hand with its long and nimble fingers. A surgeon’s fingers.

 

Just like mine.

 

“I’m not mad,” she continued. “I’ve no desire to play God. The secrets I’ve sworn to keep have the power to save the world. There couldn’t be any reason more noble.”

 

I closed my eyes. Noble? Could my attraction to these darker sides of science actually have some noble ramifications? My heart thumped harder than it ever had. By my side, Montgomery took a step closer.

 

Elizabeth grabbed the book off her desk and handed it to me. “Take this. It’s the biography of the first Lord Ballentyne, who built this place. Before you make a decision, read this so you at least know what you would be walking away from.” She gave me a hard look. “Read it tonight.”

 

I took it from her, a bit shaken. Montgomery and I returned to our adjoining rooms, where I told him I needed a few hours alone to think. As soon as I closed the door to my bedroom, I opened the book. A piece of paper with Elizabeth’s hurried writing on it fluttered to the ground. She must have scrawled it while Montgomery and I had been distracted by Lucy eavesdropping.

 

Montgomery is a good man, but he’ll never understand why women like us do what we must do, her message said. If you want to know the real truth, I will teach you everything.

 

A shiver ran through me. I balled the paper and tossed it into the fire so no one would ever find it. I glanced at the door to Montgomery’s room, hating to keep secrets from him, but knowing that as important as promises were, sometimes my curiosity was just too strong.

 

 

 

 

 

ELEVEN

 

 

A FEW MINUTES LATER, as Elizabeth’s note burned to ash, pounding sounded at my door. When I twisted the knob and peeked out, Lucy burst through the doorway.

 

“Can you believe it?” Her cheeks burned with excitement. “Reanimation, Juliet. It’s incredible!”

 

I sank onto the bed, wishing I could have just a few moments alone with my thoughts.

 

“I know,” I whispered.

 

“For a hundred years they’ve had this power and only used it once, on a silly little boy. Think of all the people they could have brought back: Beethoven, Darwin, Charles Dickens—”

 

“It’s a dangerous science,” I cut in, my voice harsher than it should be. “The von Steins are right to keep it secret.”

 

The excitement fell from her face, just for a second, and then flared to life again. “But don’t you see what this means? It solves the paradoxical situation that Elizabeth was telling us about, that in order to cure Edward we would first have to kill him.” A madness shone in her eyes as her voice dropped. “It’s possible now. Death doesn’t have to be the end anymore.”

 

I stepped back. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

 

She came close enough that I could smell feverish sweat on her. “You know what I’m suggesting, Juliet. We make certain Edward dies, then perform the operation to cut out the diseased part of his brain and bring him back to life. He’ll be entirely cured.”

 

I took another step away from her until the cold glass of my bedroom window bit at my back and I could go no farther. I pressed a hand to my spinning head. Lucy usually talked about lace patterns and French powder, not experimentation on the dead. This wild-eyed girl in my room felt like a stranger.

 

I took a deep breath. “It’s impossible.”

 

“Is it?” she hissed. “Elizabeth has her oath, but we could find a way to convince her to help. We’d just have to drain the diseased portion of Edward’s brain of the infection, cutting it out if we have to, making sure the Beast is gone for good, and then bring Edward back to life. We’ve given him a chance to fight it on his own and he’s losing. He needs our help.”

 

“We would have to kill him, Lucy,” I shot back. “Are you prepared to do that?”

 

Her cheeks burned, but her eyes were even more aflame. She grabbed my arm hard enough that her fingernails dug into my skin.

 

“Not me,” she said. “You’d do it.”

 

I ripped my arm away from her, breathing heavily, and paced in front of the window. “I’m not going to kill Edward! Murder isn’t some lark. It isn’t a decision made lightly.”

 

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