The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters

control.”
    Miss Temple saw the ease of it—a few words from Crabbé about the usefulness of a title to an ambitious man, the flattering company of a woman like the Contessa or even—she sighed with disappointment—Mrs. Marchmoor and cigars and brandy with a flattering rake like Francis Xonck. She wondered if Roger had any real idea of the value of this indigo clay, or if his allegiance was being purchased as cheaply as that of an Indian savage, with these people’s equivalent of beads and feathers. Then she remembered that he too had borne the purple scars. Did he even retain his own unfettered mind, or had this
Process
transmuted him into their slave?
    “He
is
a pawn after all…,” she whispered.
    “I’d wager every preening member of this cabal sees every other as a pawn.” Chang chuckled. “I would not single out poor Bascombe.”
    “No,” said Miss Temple. “I’m sure you’re correct. I’m sure he’s only like them all.”
    She shrugged away the glimmer of sympathy. “But the question remains—should we direct our efforts to Tarr Manor?”
    “There is another possibility,” said Doctor Svenson. “I’ve been distracted. Not three minutes from here is the walled garden where the Comte d’Orkancz brought me to look at the injured woman—it was my destination when I saw you in the window.”
    “What woman?” asked Chang.
    Svenson exhaled heavily and shook his head. “Another unfortunate caught up in the Comte’s experiments, and another mystery. She bore all the features of drowning in frozen water, though the damage had apparently been inflicted by some machine—I assume it has to do with the glass, or the boxes—I could not say if she survived the night. But the location—a greenhouse, to keep her warm—must be a stronghold of the Comte, and it is very near. He sought me to treat her—”
    “Sought you?” asked Miss Temple.
    “He claimed to have seen a pamphlet I wrote, years ago, on the afflictions of Baltic seamen—”
    “He is indeed widely read.”
    “It is ridiculous, I agree—”
    “I do not doubt it, but
why
?” Miss Temple frowned, her thoughts quickening. “But wait…if the pamphlet is so old, then it means the Comte must have had cause, even then, to be mindful of such injuries!”
    Svenson nodded. “Yes! Would this mean the Comte is the chief architect of these
experiments
?”
    “At Harschmort it was quite clearly he who managed the boxes and the strange mechanical masks. It only follows he is master of the science itself…” She shivered at the memory of the large man’s callous manipulation of the somnolent women.
    “What did the woman look like?” interrupted Chang. “At this greenhouse?”
    “Look like?” said Svenson, his train of thought jarred. “Ah—well—there were disfiguring marks across her body—she was young, beautiful—yes, and perhaps Asiatic. Do you know who she is?”
    “Of course not,” said Chang.
    “We can see if she is still there—”
    “So that is another possibility,” said Miss Temple, attempting to keep the conversation clear. “I can also think of several destinations in search of particular people—back to Harschmort, to the St. Royale for the Contessa—”
    “Crabbé’s house on Hadrian Square,” said Svenson.
    They turned to Chang. He was silent, lost in thought. Abruptly he looked up, and shook his head. “Following an individual merely gives us a prisoner—at best, that is. It means interrogation, threats—it is awkward. True, we may find the Prince—we may find anything—but most likely we will catch Harald Crabbé at dinner with his wife and end up having to cut both their throats.”
    “I have not made Mrs. Crabbé’s acquaintance,” said Miss Temple. “I should prefer any mayhem be directly applied to those who we know have harmed us.” She knew that Chang had raised the idea of murdering the woman just to frighten them, and she
was
frightened—a test, as she realized the paintings were a way for her to test the two of them. As they stood speaking, she saw that placing herself with two men amidst a room full of undulating flesh was actually a declaration of a certain capacity and knowledge that she did not in fact possess. It had not been her initial intention, but it made her feel more their equal.
    “So you are not content to simply kill everyone.” Chang smiled.
    “I am not,” replied Miss Temple. “In all this I have wanted to know
why
—from the first moment I decided to