Jenny Plague-Bringer(49)

Juliana clutched Sebastian’s hand as they left the room, her mind swirling with excitement and fear. She knew that getting control of the demon plague was the right thing to do, and the only way she could ever hope to be a good person, but the idea of being examined in a laboratory day after day terrified her. If Sebastian was with her, that would make it all bearable. Without him, she would be alone, with no one who understood her.

Without speaking, they walked outside into the gardens, toward the peach orchard and the elaborate graveyard under construction. They didn’t speak for a while. Both of them had plenty to think about.





Chapter Fifteen




Juliana and Sebastian tried to enjoy an afternoon running free on the Barrett grounds. They avoided the darkness of the house, instead visiting the stables to view Mr. Barrett’s horses, including a champion racehorse, which the horse groom was happy to discuss.

Barrett slaughtered a pig in their honor, outside by the smokehouse. He made a show of cutting the squealing animal’s throat himself with a butcher knife, which sent his young son screaming and crying into the house. It roasted in a pit until long after sunset, filling the grounds with the smell of hot pork.

Sebastian and Juliana waited for supper in the library, where Sebastian continued to “taste” Mr. Barrett’s Canadian whiskey again and again, while Juliana read aloud from a collection of poems by Percy Shelley. Barrett had made a number of notes in the margins of “Ozymandias,” but she couldn’t decipher his handwriting.

When she looked up from the book of poetry, she saw that Barrett’s small, timid son, also named Jonathan, had crept into the room to listen to her. He stood behind a stiff wing-backed chair near the door, as if hiding while also making sure he could escape fast. Sebastian, drowsing off in his own chair while looking out at the gardens, hadn’t even noticed him.

“Hello,” Juliana said to the little boy, who cringed.

“Do I have to leave, ma’am?” he whispered.

“No, you can come and sit. Do you like poetry?”

“I like listening to you read it, ma’am.” He tiptoed around the wing-backed chair and sat down on the edge, tentatively, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment.

“You don’t have to be scared,” Juliana said.

The boy looked at her and started crying. She could not touch him to comfort him, so she tried the softest voice she could manage: “Why are you upset?”

“He killed my pig.” The boy rubbed his running nose on his sleeve. “My favorite pig.”

“Your father?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry.” She felt terrible for him. She could imagine how a boy might get attached to an animal. “He probably didn’t know it was your favorite.”

“He knew! That’s why he killed her. Because she was my friend.” The boy turned red and cried harder.

“What’s happening?” Sebastian asked, startled awake by the boy’s bawling.

“His favorite pig died.”

“Because he hates me! That’s why he did it,” the boy said.

“I’m sure your father doesn’t hate you,” Juliana said.

“And he could have brought her back to life, but he cooked her instead. And now you’re all going to eat her!”

“I don’t think he could bring her back to life,” Juliana said.

“He could! He can bring the dead back. He showed me one night, in the Negro graveyard. He made one climb right out!” The boy was blubbering. “My father’s evil. I think he’s the Devil. Or he’s worse.”

“I’m sure your father isn’t evil,” Juliana told him.

“You don’t know anything!” the boy shouted. He ran out of the library.

“Kid liked that pig,” Sebastian said.

“I couldn’t even hug him or anything. It breaks my heart. Where’s his mother, anyway?” Juliana asked.

“Upstairs with the laudanum, remember?” Sebastian said.

A servant collected them for supper, where Barrett drank heavily and regaled them with stories of nights he’d spent in New York and London, sometimes meeting famous people, about whom he gossiped freely. Some of the stories had Juliana laughing into her punch, though all the alcohol she’d consumed certainly helped her find the humor in his jokes. He came across as well-educated, well-traveled, and just plain wealthy, but with a deep fondness for the little town where he’d grown up.

Neither Barrett’s son nor his wife made an appearance during the meal. Neither Seth nor Juliana had the nerve to ask what his son might have meant about him bringing the dead to life, and with the drinking, the subject was soon forgotten.