Bastien Read Online Free PDF Page B

both have their arms full of distraught female. They believe what Adrien said.
    “Have you all gone insane?”
    “Look,” Edgard says, pointing at the door. Or rather the window above it.
    I look. “What, the moon?”
    “It was new when we went to the Faery court.”
    It’s full now. My throat closes shut and I have to swallow repeatedly to find my voice again.
    “Where is Liliane?” I don’t dare look at them for the answer.
    “She’s gone, Bastien,” Firmin says. “She took up with a... creature. She was dead when we found her.”
    I shudder. Two weeks. Liliane is dead. My chest feels hollow. I rub at it and find the stolen tarot deck. If I take it out right now and look at the top card, will it be Death again? Was the hag trying to warn me?
    “Leave,” I say.
    Firmin escorts Honorine and Brigitte to the carriage. Edgard and Gaspard follow, with Adrien and Adeline taking up the rear. Adeline touches my arm and looks at me sadly as she passes by. I wince and pull away.

    Only Louis remains. After the others are gone down the long drive, he says, “It must have been an accident. They don’t... they don’t murder out of spite. The male probably didn’t realize how fragile she was. You know Liliane, she’d go toe to toe with the Devil to prove that she could.”
    He says it too easily, as if he is inured to this sort of thing happening. How often has he been there? How well does he truly know those creatures? How many has he seen die at their hands?
    “What did she say to you?” he asks. “Lilith.”
    “There really wasn’t much talking, Louis,” I reply.
    Louis takes an angry step, as though to challenge me. It takes me by surprise. Of all of us, I would never expect Louis to be the one who takes exception to what I do, or with whom. “She was mine,” he grates. “You selfish, narcissistic prig, she was mine!”
    “Apparently, you failed to make her aware of that.”
    Louis’ fist connects with my jaw, spinning me sideways. Half my face goes numb and in an instant explodes in pain. I am so startled I laugh, and once I’ve started I cannot stop. Seeing Louis’ livid face only makes me laugh harder.
    He slams the door behind him.
    My laughter refuses to subside. My sides hurt from it as I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor, lost in my mirth. Maids poke their heads around corners, servants stare as they pass me by. It is Jacques who finally scrapes up enough courage to come to my aid. He drags me to my feet and guides me up the stairs to my chambers.
    It’s not until I am shrugging out of my coat that I notice my reflection in the mirror.
    There are tears streaked down my face.

    Chapter Seven
    I spend the following days in morose drunkenness. I invite no company, nor do I accept any.
    Summer is turning to autumn and the gardeners are out in droves, tending to the flowers. I watch them from my window, absently shuffling the stolen tarot cards.
    Every once in a while a card falls out of the deck. More often than not, it’s the Strength card, with its red, red rose and sharp thorns. I find myself searching for the woman I glimpsed beneath the rose. She disappeared like a mirage, not just from the card but from my dreams as well. Now I can’t even recall her face. I turn the card this way and that, into the light, into shadow, I bend it just short of creasing. Nothing I do changes the image on its face.
    Jacques comes in with a food tray. “The cook must be worried about you, he made your favorite.”
    “The cook made my favorite, the maids change the bedding every day, the hostler comes in every morning to ask if he should prepare a horse for me. What do you think they’re all worried about? That I am dying, or that I am not?”
    “You are a spirited man who hasn’t left his room for six days, my Lord. It is very uncharacteristic of you.”
    I look away from the garden just so he can see me raise an eyebrow. “One of my friends died… in a horrible accident three weeks ago.