The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters

that he understood. Resistance was impossible—he could barely follow her words, and by the time he made sense of them his body had already answered.
    “You have been with the Temple girl, and the Prince’s Doctor.”
    Chang nodded.
    “Do you know where they are now?”
    He shook his head.
    “Are they coming here?”
    He shook his head.
    “Do you have plans to meet them?”
    Chang nodded. Rosamonde sighed.
    “Well, I’m not going to spend all my time guessing where…you spoke to Xonck. He is suspicious—of me in particular?”
    Chang nodded.
    “Did Bascombe hear you speak?”
    Chang shook his head. She smiled.
    “Then there is ample time…it is true that Francis Xonck carries some of his older brother’s great power, but only a very little, for he is so rebellious and rakish that there is no intimacy of friendship between them, and little prospect of inheritance. But of course
I
am a friend to Francis no matter what—so he truly has nowhere else to go. So, enough of that—imagine,
you
trying to scare
me
—what about what
you
know, from your
investigations
…do you know who killed Colonel Trapping?”
    Chang shook his head.
    “Do you know why we have chosen Macklenburg?”
    Chang shook his head.
    “Do you know of Oskar Veilandt?”
    Chang nodded.
    “Really? Good for you. Do you know of the blue glass?”
    Chang nodded.
    “Ah…not so good—for your survival, I mean. What have you seen…wait, were you at the Institute?”
    Chang nodded.
    “Breaking in—that was you, when that idiot dropped the book—or did you perhaps
cause
him to drop the book?”
    Chang nodded.
    “Incredible—you’re an unstoppable force. He’s dead, you know—and then of course what happened to the Comte’s girl because of it—but I don’t suppose that would bother you?”
    In the prison of his mind Chang was wrenched by the confirmation that his actions had doomed Angelique. He nodded. Rosamonde cocked her head.
    “Really? Not for the man. Wait—wait, the girl…she was from the brothel—I did not think you so chivalrous—but wait, could you
know
her?”
    Chang nodded. Rosamonde laughed.
    “It is the coincidence of a novel for ladies. Let me guess…did you love her terribly?”
    Chang nodded. Rosamonde laughed even louder.
    “Oh, that is priceless! Dear, dear Cardinal Chang…I believe you have just given me the nugget of information I require to make friends again with Mr. Xonck—an unintended prize.” She attempted to compose her face but was still grinning. “Have you seen any glass other than the broken book?”
    Chang nodded.
    “I
am
sorry, for your sake. Was it—yes of course, the Prince had one of the Comte’s novelty cards, didn’t he? Has there ever been a man who likes more to watch himself? Did the Doctor find it?”
    Chang nodded.
    “So the Doctor and Miss Temple know of the blue glass as well?”
    Chang nodded.
    “And they know of the Process—never mind, of course they do—she saw it for herself, and the Doctor examined the Prince…do you know the significance of Lydia Vandaariff’s marriage?”
    Chang shook his head.
    “Have you been to Tarr Manor?”
    Chang shook his head. Her eyes narrowed.
    “Miss Temple has been there, I expect, with Roger…but so long ago it would not signify. All right. One last question for the moment…am I the most exquisite woman you’ve ever known?”
    Chang nodded. She smiled. Then, slowly, like a sunset slipping over the horizon, her smile faded and she sighed. “It is a sweet thought to end on, perhaps for both of us. The end itself is regrettable. You are an exotic dish for me…quite raw…and I would have preferred to linger over you. I am sorry.” She reached into the tiny pocket of her fitted silk jacket and came up with another dose of fine blue powder on the tip of her gloved finger. “Think of it as a way to join your lost love…”
    She blew the powder into his face. Chang’s mouth was closed but he could feel it enter through his nose. His head felt as if it was freezing then and there, his blood stiffening, splitting the veins within his skull. He was in agony but could not move. His ears echoed with an audible crack. His eyes swam. He was staring at the floor tiles. He had fallen. He was blind. He was dead.

    The chandelier was formed of three concentric large iron rings, each ring set with forged-metal sockets to hold candles…in all three rings perhaps a hundred sockets. Chang looked up to the high ceiling above him and saw