The Shadow Revolution

White glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. His face was bloodstained. His eyes were wide and frenzied.

 

“Imogen will be a fine addition to the family,” he said in a voice thick with excitement. White held up a tube of filamentous quills. “Since you took my favorite, I will re-create your sister in his likeness. She will be magnificent.”

 

Kate said nothing. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn’t. She had a gag over her mouth, which White had placed to stop her cursing and threatening during the surgery. Throughout the operation, she had been steadily flexing her limbs, restoring circulation to them. They burned with fiery needles, but one image kept her focused: White dead at her hands. There was nothing that would stop her, nowhere he could run.

 

“Nearly done now.” White straightened the tube dangling from the canister and studied the filthy trocar that dripped pinkish liquid. He took a large syringe of green substance from a side table and set it on the operating table. “I tried to tell you what would happen. Did you think I was lying? You cannot play games with me, Miss Anstruther.”

 

Kate kept her eyes on him, afraid to catch a fuller glimpse of Imogen.

 

He walked toward her, wiping red hands on his gown. “I haven’t decided what to do with you. The key will take care of itself; it’s really none of my concern ultimately. But I asked you quite nicely to tell me about it. And you refused. Now I will make you pay for your arrogance.”

 

The door exploded open and slammed against the wall. Simon stormed into sight, one fist clenched, lines of power sparking over his arms and torso. His sword glowed like lightning in his hand.

 

The doctor was surprisingly fast to recover from the shock. He grabbed the wheelchair and spun Kate around to face the door. She felt a sharp prick of a needle on her neck as White shouted, “Stop or she’ll die!”

 

Simon held out his arm to block Hogarth, who surged in behind him. The manservant was a figure of rusted iron, his chest swathed in red linen and his face bleached marble. His gaze locked on the dreadful table that rose from the floor between the door and the trapped Kate. Hogarth’s face fell with devastation. The pile of familiar clothes on the floor told him all he needed to know. The manservant shoved Simon’s arm aside and walked toward the table, step by slow step. He stopped, towering over the still, white figure. He looked at the poor thing, unsure what to do. He unstrapped one of the hands, then seemed to freeze in confusion. His fingers tightened on the table edge. It was unclear if he was trying to crush it, or if he merely needed the support to stand. His form quivered and his head rose.

 

Dr. White pressed the large needle deeper into Kate’s throat. She gave a muffled cry of pain. One of the doctor’s grotesque homunculi skittered from the far corner to crouch on its weird, misshapen legs near White. One of the thing’s eyes locked on the table, while the other swept around the dingy chamber.

 

“Hogarth!” Simon warned. “Don’t do anything to endanger Kate. Do you hear me?”

 

“Wise advice, Mr. Archer,” White said. “Have you come so far just to see her die?” The doctor’s eyes tracked Malcolm, who moved into the room behind Simon with pistols in hand. The Scotsman slipped to one side to gain a clear view, but he stopped when White inclined his head toward his restrained prisoner again.

 

“I must say, Mr. Archer, I am grateful to see you here because now I don’t need to seek you out to destroy you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Simon said as he flexed his hands. “Now, we’ll have Miss Anstruther and her sister.”

 

White chuckled. “You won’t have anything, I’m afraid. Frankly, I don’t see how any of you will get out of here alive.”

 

“Don’t you?” Simon raised a hand and Penny entered the room, brandishing a pistol, bluffing out the extreme pain she felt. Young human Charlotte crept in behind her. Simon glanced quickly back. “Where’s Nick?”

 

A pale-faced Penny said, “He went off to hold the stairs in case reinforcements come.”

 

“Damn it,” Simon whispered. He removed a vial from the bandolier, tossing it to Penny. “The door if you please.”

 

Penny calmly poured liquid on the threshold. In a moment, a shimmering amberlike mass started to grow. It expanded, sticking to the wall and swelling until it filled the entire doorway.

 

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