The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 807

Nobody breathed.

The machine was silent. The old count lay still. The burning smell of the paste filled the hot room until every eye was running.

"His fate," Foster said. Very small. "I told you all. It was his fate."

"Tommy?" The bowl shook in Aunt Ruby's hands. "Tommy, please."

But over the bowl, her eyes went to the wall. To Oliver. Not to her brother. A quick look, like a woman checking the time.

"Is he dead?" Rebecca asked.

Her voice was perfectly calm. That was the worst part.

Under Alex's fingers, nothing moved. Nothing at all.

"Not yet," Alex said. "Give me one breath."

He laid two fingers on the last needle, over the heart. And turned it once.

The count coughed.

A huge, tearing cough, the kind that comes up from the bottom of a well. Something thick and black came up into the cloth Alex held at his mouth. A clot the size of a thumb. It smelled of burnt sugar over bitter medicine.

Then the old man dragged in one long breath. And another.

The machine gave one soft beep. Then another. Then a slow, steady line of them, like footsteps coming home.

For one second, before her smile came, Aunt Ruby's face went flat and grey. Like a woman watching her train leave without her.

"He's breathing!" she cried. "Rebecca, he's breathing!"

The old man's eyes opened. They moved slowly round the room. Past the doctors. Past the white mask. And stopped on the tall woman at the foot of the bed.

"Rebecca," he said. A dry little scrape. "Why is your hair wet?"

Rebecca put her hand over her mouth.

"It was raining, Father. I went out."

"Without your coat? You never forget anything. You remembered my bank ledger when you were six."

"I remember," Rebecca said. And her voice broke right in half.

Nobody in Calder had ever seen the Cruel Lady cry. They saw it now.

Aunt Ruby threw herself across the blankets with a loud sob, rings and all, and she landed exactly where Rebecca could see her. Her ringed wrist fell across Alex's arm.

"Oh, Tommy! I'm so happy! So happy!"

Under all that sobbing, her heart went slow and steady as a kitchen clock. A happy heart runs. A frightened heart runs faster. This one was doing sums.

Rebecca came round the bed and bowed to the mask. Not a nod. A real bow, low, the way her house bowed to the Emperor himself.

"From tonight," she said, "you are the honoured guest of the House of Morgan. Our door is yours. Whatever you need, for the rest of my life."

"It was no trouble," Alex said.

"No trouble!" Foster's pink face went red. "Every doctor in Calder stood at that bed for two months!"

"I know," Alex said. "That was the trouble."

"Then tell us what it was, if you're so clever!"

"Thick blood. It goes slow, and the heart starves. It was mending on its own." The mask turned to the cup by the bed. "Then your tonic came. A strong push for a weak heart. His heart was never weak. Every spoon pushed his blood the wrong way."

"My tonic is given in every hospital in the Empire!"

"To the right people," Alex said. "He was the wrong one. For five days, it was the only thing that went into his mouth."

Every face turned to the cup. It smelled bitter and sweet at once. Burnt sugar over medicine. The same smell as the black thing in the cloth.

"Pour it out," Rebecca said. "All of it."

The old count lifted one thin hand. "Who is the man with no face?"

"A friend, Father."

"Then thank your friend." His tired eyes moved. They found his sister on the blankets. They stayed there. "I could hear, Rebecca. The whole time. I couldn't move, but I could hear." His voice was thin, but it didn't shake. "Somebody said, pull them, Doctor. That was the boy."

Oliver stopped breathing by the wall.

"And somebody said, Dr. Foster is right. That was you, Ruby."

The room went cold. Aunt Ruby sat up. Her face was wet, and her eyes were perfectly dry.

"Thomas, darling, I was frightened! We were all frightened! He's the most famous doctor in the Empire!"

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