7 Madame

The Red Horse House was just as gaudy and over-the-top inside as it had been from the outside. All sorts of ridiculous little souvenirs decorated the table that held an impressive pile of papers, all stained with red ink and lipstick marks.

Behind the table and the tower of papers was a woman with a high hairdo that seemed to defy all known laws of physics. She was about sixty years old and still beautiful. Her wily green eyes were accentuated with the cat-style eyeliner that was not quite holding its own against the tropical heat of the area. As the newcomers tapped gently on the door, she pushed the papers away, revealing that she had an obscenely red lipstick staining her noble mouth, and then she cleared her throat.

"I expect better things from you, as a doorwoman, as an employee," the madame said.

So, this was the lady of the house. She looked relatively low key, when compared to Bastian's mental images. She did not keep all of her golden items as jewelry, it seemed, and instead chose to adorn herself with a pair of diamond earrings that also probably cost a lot of money.

Em sighed.

"Afraid that I have to deliver even more bad news for you, madame," she said. "You know Captain Bastian?"

"Of course I know him, I know all of our regulars."

When he heard this, Bastian Black blushed a bit. He had repressed the old captain's memories about being such a lecherous man that he had paid his way into a woman's bed. He was not exactly proud to think about that.

"I am afraid I also have some bad news for you," he said nevertheless. "I am going on a voyage. I don't know when I will be coming back here to part with my hard-earned gold, if ever. The situation is complicated."

The madame picked up a quill and caressed her painted upper lip with its feathery tip.

"You think I am going to hold a man at gunpoint and force him to use our services? No. My girls deserve someone who wants them enough to come and come again."

Her intelligent green eyes dashed from Em to Bastian and then back to Em.

"I can see that you are leaving," the madame said. "I can see the way you hold that little bag of yours. You never keep it closed unless you are not going to come back tonight. Are you going to come back at all?"

"I rather doubt it, Mistress," Em said. There was perhaps a certain tinge of sadness in her voice, but she hid it well, well enough that Bastian thought it would have made for a great and poignant scene in a book.

This was the place she had lived in for years. This was the place where she had constructed social relationships, she had loved, laughed, cried, been furious. She probably liked a lot of the girls who worked here, and the girls liked her, since she was sweet and amicable despite her manipulative traits.

"Can I at least say goodbye to the girls?" she asked Bastian.

"Of course."

He wanted to have a discussion with the madame in private, anyway, and he sent the women upstairs to talk with the girls of the house.

"You have changed a lot since the last time I saw you," the madame said as soon as Em closed the door leading to the upstairs corridor. " What might be the cause of that?"

"Are you by any means familiar with witchcraft?" Bastian asked.

He had instantly clocked the madame as someone capable of critical thinking. Nothing about this woman suggested that she was just lucky enough to be wealthy. This lady, too, despite her old age, could manipulate, plot and perhaps even kill her way into success. Without a semblance of doubt, she had done so before.

"I know a few cunning tricks," she said with an air of mystery in her voice. "Were you cursed?"

"More like blessed," Bastian confessed. "All I know is that…I died. I died and came back alive, only to be cursed again by Captain Gorgo. I know that I am not the same Captain Bastian Black anymore."

"Ah." The madame averted her eyes. A slight blush appeared on her high and hollow cheeks, and Bastian realixed one very important thing.

A woman with graying hair was a woman still. She desired him, ashamed of her own carnal inclinations, ashamed of her weakness – at her age, she should have known better. But perhaps there was just something about the new Bastian that she could not resist, no matter what notions of dignity she normally entertained in her clever little head.

Bastian much preferred the women he could call his equals, but he could not help being a bit flattered by this attention.

"You think you don't want to go back to the place between lives?" she asked all of a sudden, shocking Bastian to the core.

"You have died?"

"I died once," she admitted. "I think that is why I can spot those who have lived before while others cannot. I didn't care for my former life, but the place I visited before becoming the new madame was one of rest. One of absolute peace. In this world, only pain exists…pain and suffering."

Bastian felt chills running up and down his spine.

"Do you know if there are many of us here?" he asked. "Those who have lived before?"

She shook her head. "We are rare. You probably know about Gorgo by now. He is one of the seven I know if I count you. And there seems to be no common thread, no shared mission."

"Why would there be a shared mission, Mistress?" Bastian asked. "Is there a mission that –"

But right then and there, a terrible scream echoed from some upstairs room. Both people seated next to the tower of papers stood up so abruptly that the pile toppled over and important documents were sent scattering across the floor.