Montgomery untied the launch. He threw the rope onto the pyre and gave the vessel a shove with his boot to send it out to sea. The waves reflected the flames, making the whole ocean burn.
“So we all shall end,” Father reflected, then tucked his hands into his pocket and started down the length of the dock.
“We shouldn’t stay out here longer than we have to,” Edward said, but I shook my head.
“Give us a moment.”
Edward glanced at Montgomery, who stood at the end of the dock watching the smoldering pyre. He left us alone, but I could feel reluctance pulling at him like the tide.
Montgomery kicked the empty can of oil into the water, where it floated for a moment before drowning. Flames highlighted the angles of his face.
“If you’re going to judge me for creating her,” he said, “don’t bother. I already know I’ll go to hell for it.”
I watched the dying fire. I took a deep breath. “It isn’t your fault she died.”
With a crack, Alice’s pyre splintered. The sea bubbled up from beneath, swallowing the flames, pulling the remains of her body to the deep.
Montgomery spun and strode back to the wagon, putting distance between him and Alice’s sinking body. I ran after him, but he was already back with the others. My footsteps echoed in the hollow space below the dock. I stopped. If he’d wanted me to catch him, he’d have let me.
Our nerves were as battered as the wagon’s old struts and axle on the ride back. No one spoke. I don’t know what terrified us more—passing through the jungle at night, or what might be waiting for us at home.
Thirty-six
FOR DAYS AFTERWARD, FATHER wouldn’t speak of what had happened—not Antigonus’s betrayal, nor the savage murders that had claimed Alice as the most recent victim. He plunged himself into his work instead, spending all day and night in the laboratory and only emerging for meals or to go on secretive errands with Puck into the jungle. The rest of us lived every moment on alert.
One evening Montgomery, Edward, and I stayed in the salon after an awkward supper during which Father refused to entertain even the slightest suggestion of danger. Montgomery paced by the windows like a caged animal, eyes fixed on the darkness outside. I sat on the piano bench, touching the long black keys one at a time, slowly, listening to the sharp resonance spilling out across the room.
“We’ll have to build a raft,” Edward said. “Between the monster and the beasts, we’ll be lucky to last another week.”
I struck a C-sharp. “That’ll take too much time. Father will figure out what we’re doing.”
Montgomery paused, folding his arms. His gaze was still focused out the window. “There’s another launch,” he said curtly.
My finger slipped off the key, crashing into the C and D with a discordant echo.
Edward leapt up. “Where? Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” he asked.
“It’s not exactly tethered to the dock, waiting for our escape.” He rubbed his forehead. “It’s in the village.”
I took my foot off the sustaining pedal, cutting off the notes. “We can’t go back there. You saw them. And they’re getting worse every day.”
Montgomery ran a hand over his hair. “I didn’t say it would be simple. The boat belongs to Caesar. He used it for baptisms.”
“Next you’ll be saying those animals take communion,” Edward said.
Montgomery narrowed his eyes. He’d grown up with the islanders, I wanted to remind Edward. Not with governesses and siblings and servants like a general’s son would have. “You think they’re not good enough for religion, Prince?”
I pressed the pedal again, feeling the hammer board tighten and release, wishing everything could be as simple as the workings of a piano.
Edward cracked his knuckles, one at a time. The air was getting tense. “I don’t recall the Bible preaching clawing people’s hearts out.”
Montgomery’s hands curled to fists at his sides. “You can’t blame them for wanting revenge. Do you have any idea of the pain they’ve suffered at human hands?”
“I don’t,” Edward said. “But I’d wager you do.”
I pounded my fist against the lower keys. The room shook with the wild combination of deep notes. “Stop it! You can box each other to bruises back in London, if you like. But let’s get the launch first and get off this island.” I slammed the key cover down. “Agreed?”
They stared at each other, taut as a piano string. At last Edward turned away, his eyes meeting mine. I got a chill, thinking of the three of us back in London. Not every problem would be solved by leaving the island.
“Where’s the boat, then?” Edward asked.
“There’s a church,” Montgomery said. “It’s a stone building in the main square with a wooden cross above the door. The rowboat is in a shed behind it. They might have smashed it for firewood for all we know.”
“We don’t have any other options,” I said.
“We should wait until the doctor leaves,” Montgomery said. “The next time he takes Puck on another fool’s errand.”
“How do we know the beasts won’t try to kill us?” I asked.
Montgomery folded his arms again, staring out the window. “Let’s hope they feel more loyalty to me more than they do the doctor.”
I COULDN’T SLEEP THAT night. My dreams kept replaying the feel of my kiss with Montgomery. His arms around me in the barn, pulling me closer, his hand running down my hair. The dreams slipped to Edward holding me behind the waterfall, and I awoke, restless. It was very early, though already hot. I sat up and my foot accidentally kicked the wooden box where I kept my medication. I’d run out the day before but I hadn’t told anyone. If I didn’t take it today, I’d start to feel symptoms.
I pushed the still-locked box farther under the bed. No matter how Montgomery tried to convince me my treatment was different from the islanders’, I needed to find out for myself.
I went to the salon just after dawn. The mantel clock sliced little ticks through the thick early-morning silence. Troubling dreams. Father insane. Murderer loose. Alice dead.
Montgomery came in, as surprised to see me as I was him.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “The heat.” I left out the dreams.
If he could tell I was nervous, he said nothing. “I can’t say that I mind a little time with you before the world rises.” My stomach pressed against my spine, the air suddenly gone. He took my wrist, lightly. He kissed the soft, sensitive flesh, and then ran his finger up my arm. This is what people talk about, I thought, when they say they could die of pleasure. I would have gladly died, if it meant he’d press his lips to my skin again. But he stole away his touch and didn’t return it.