The Chemickal Marriage

obstacle to avoid – or, like the fellow with the knot, hack through.
    She threw the hood over her face and opened the door. Here was the same acrid smell … now augmented by gunpowder. Across the room three robed acolytes lay huddled in death. Another doorway had been blown open. Miss Temple padded to it, but quickly turned from the burnt, twisted bodies. It was now clear what happened if one stepped on the wrong tile.
    She forced herself to approach the robed corpses, examining each as carefully as Chang or Svenson might have done. One man’s face was stained orange. Though the Contessa had taken such pains to bring her own supply, here was a bubbling fountain full of the stuff, from which this poor wretch had drunk. His lips were stretched and his empty eyes wide in a carnival mask of fear. The other two acolytes had been beaten and stabbed, but, judging by the blood smeared on the floor, there had been more men, hauled away. Again, she did her best to sort the passage of each one, diligence rewarded when her eyes at last caught a particular blot in a sooty footprint. These prints emerged from the blasted door and followed the drag marks leading out. She’d found Mr Foison … and he’d found someone else.
    She started at a skittering noise: a metal grille, painted to blend with the distorted figures that decorated the walls. Miss Temple went to her toes and turned the knob. Through it came voices she knew.
    ‘You underestimate the power of his belief,’ said Doctor Svenson.
    ‘There was a second question, my lord?’ asked Mr Foison.
    The doors next to the grille had been pushed closed, but remained ajar. Miss Temple cautiously craned her head. Robert Vandaariff stood with his back to her, the only occupant of a strange little room sealed off by thick glass. Beyond him, and more glass, stood Svenson and Foison in what was obviously Vandaariff’s new laboratory.
    ‘Indeed, for Doctor Svenson. You were given entry in the company of another man. A Mr
Pfaff
. Where is he now?’
    ‘We parted ways.’
    ‘Pfaff is an ally of the Contessa, my lord …’
    They kept talking. Miss Temple paid no attention, for at the sight of Chang on the table her heart went cold.
    She kicked off the slippers and ran, following Foison and the drag marks, only to reach a crossroads and more damned carpet, where the trail disappeared. Without a thought she dashed left, reached the end of the carpet and cried out as her toe caught on a new-laid plank. She hopped on one foot, picking at the splinter. Staring at Miss Temple with an imperious distrust was a band of acolytes in white robes.
    ‘Sister?’ ventured one. ‘What brings you here?’
    ‘I must find Mr Foison!’ cried Miss Temple. ‘Where is Mr Foison?’
    But her hood had slipped off. The acolyte pointed at her face. ‘She has not been consumed. She has not been redeemed.’
    ‘
Tell me!
’ Miss Temple raised the revolver. ‘Where is Mr Foison!’
    Her threat meant nothing. The acolytes charged. Miss Temple pulled the trigger. The pointing acolyte fell, clutching his leg. Miss Temple bolted, snapping another blind shot behind. She careened around a corner. A door ahead of her opened and another white robed idiot peeked out. She raised the pistol, her aim bouncing wildly. The acolyte threw out his arms.
    ‘
There
you are!’
    She did not break speed, each step narrowing her aim.
    ‘It’s me! It’s me! It’s
Jack
!’
    She saw beneath the hood and did not shoot. Pfaff pulled her in and slid the bolt home. Fists pounded on the far side of the door.
    ‘Well, well, little miss –’
    ‘I must reach Chang! They’re going to kill him!’
    Pfaff flashed a confident smile. ‘Then you must follow me.’
    He pulled her to an unfinished staircase, little more than a hole in the floor. She noticed his chequered trousers were wet from the knees down.
    ‘Where have you been, Mr Pfaff?’
    ‘Not Jack?’
    ‘It was never Jack. Do not bother to lie.
She
sent you here. You met her, and she set you a task.’
    ‘Miss, I came to find
you
. I
have
had dealings with the Contessa – had to convince her, didn’t I? But here I am, and I
will
take you to Chang.’
    ‘Do you know what they have done to him?’
    Pfaff stopped and turned to her. He took a deep breath. ‘Miss –’
    ‘We must hurry!’
    ‘I do not like to tell you, but someone must. They took his mind, Miss Temple. Snatched it with a blue glass book, so Vandaariff can exchange himself into Chang’s empty