Dead of Winter - James Goss [56]
I crouched in my corner, watching.
For a while, Kosov just stood there. I thought he might cry, or walk away, or do any one of a number of things. But he just staggered. A false step. His balance shifting, almost as though… no, half of him sank to the ground. And his face! His face was like ice, running and melting and falling apart. Even his clothes dripped like hot wax.
I watched for as long as I could. But as the strange thing shattered, it made a dreadful gurgling noise. Like it was crying.
That wasn’t the worst thing. The worst thing was that Prince Boris laughed.
That was when I ran away.
Your ever loving
Maria
Dr Bloom’s Journal
7th December 1783
Perdita sank against the wall. She looked dreadful.
‘It’s Kosov,’ she croaked. ‘Something has gone terribly wrong.’
‘What?’ I asked her.
She slid down, her head falling forward, her features hidden beneath that spilling tangle of hair. She moaned. ‘It’s too late… Go to him, Johann, please…’
I rushed up to Prince Boris’s rooms, and found the Prince dressing himself. He was tying a cravat, perfectly, and didn’t glance round from the mirror.
‘Ah, Dr Bloom,’ he purred, even managing something sarcastic in the click of his heels.
I stared at the thing on the floor. It looked… well, like a foggy lump of glowing clay, only matted with a lot of wet hair. Sometimes the clinic cat will vomit up a half-digested rat on the study carpet. It was just like that, only bigger. There was a dreadful smell coming from it. It was still moving, slightly, damply. It was horribly familiar.
‘Was that Kosov?’ I gasped.
Prince Boris winked at me. ‘Poor Dr Bloom, you’ve gone quite green. I thought you medical men had better stomachs.’
‘What have you done with him?’
‘I’ve killed him.’ Prince Boris actually rolled his eyes. He flopped back on the bed. ‘He’d cured me, so I had no more need of him. I simply wished him away.’ He groaned theatrically. ‘Oh to be able to do that with all the peasants back home.’ He jumped up and rubbed his hands. ‘Oh, I feel marvellous. I’m quite grateful to you, really I am. And so terribly, terribly sorry about the mess on your carpet.’
I tried not to look… What was this man?
He clasped his hands behind his back. ‘Ah, now for the creature on the beach. What a marvellous thing it is! I cannot wait to meet it,’ he announced. ‘Many years ago my father sent me on a… diplomatic mission. It was slow, painful work. I applied myself rigorously to it for two whole days and then the third I stayed in bed.’ He affected a yawn. ‘I can sense that whatever that creature is… it is a marvel but it is used to being dealt with gently. You are a kind and patient man.’ Boris shrugged, and tugged away at his loathsome beard. ‘I am not.’
He let it hang there in the air. It was a threat. A definite threat.
He smiled suddenly, and tapped me on the chin, the kind of gesture you’d make to a pet. ‘I owe it all to you, dear Johann.’
I flinched at the familiarity.
‘I am a changed man! A changed man! I feel marvellous! For the first time in my life I have the energy to be exactly who I have always wanted to be.’ He clapped me insolently on the shoulder. ‘Now then, I think I should see whatever it is you’re keeping on the beach.’ There was a nasty glint in his eye. ‘I think it’s about time I showed it who really is boss.’
With that he sailed from the room.
As he left, he called over his shoulder: ‘Don’t forget my gift to you, Dr Bloom. It’s very important.’
The Story of Rory
Funny how you forget things. Such as whether or not the thing that looks exactly like your wife is actually your wife or not.
‘Amy,’ I said to her, completely forgetting that this wasn’t Amy at all. ‘I don’t feel too well.’
The thing that looked just like her made a shushing motion and laid her fingertip on my lip. ‘Don’t you worry about a thing, my lovely Rory boy,’ she whispered to me. ‘We’re nearly over and done with. You’re just about cured. I’ll even kiss it better.’ And she smiled, a