PandoraHearts ~Caucus Race~, Vol. 3 Read online

  Begin Reading

  Insert

  Table of Contents

  Yen Newsletter

  Copyright Page

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Dance, dance, puzzle pieces!

  Unbound words, mismatched happenings.

  Now they’re all in place, and the picture is…

  What?

  The final battle was about to begin.

  The challenger was Caudwell, the pitch-black knight. Rising to meet him was the golden knight, Walter.

  As the sun like a ripe fruit sank on the distant horizon, these two whom the world called “heroes” quietly leveled their swords. They kept their eyes fixed on each other.

  When Caudwell spoke, he was keenly aware that this would surely be their last conversation:

  “Listen carefully. Hear the voice of the wind, Golden Knight. The people are calling for release from the old days.”

  Walter spoke with eager anticipation for the bloody battle he was about to fight:

  “The wind should content itself with daintily stirring the forest grasses. I stand here entrusted with this land.”

  The battlefield on which the pair faced each other was littered with a host of corpses, and the flowing blood formed several rivers.

  All were soldiers who had offered up their faith and their lives to Caudwell or to Walter, and had fallen.

  The two bore countless souls on their shoulders. As a result, they could no longer lower the swords they’d taken up.

  They hated each other more than anything, while at the same time, they understood each other better than anyone, and still there was no way for them to compromise.

  One sought to set the age in motion. The other sought to prevent him. The only path that remained for either was to settle the matter with cold steel.

  The sun sank. Night came.

  Which of them was it who spoke the very last words?

  “I thought we could be friends, you know.”

  —RECOLLECTIONS OF BLACK AND GOLD, BY EVIL B.

  1

  In the wood owned by the Baskervilles, there stood a lone tower.

  One afternoon, when the sunlight fell softly…

  When the current head of the Baskervilles, Glen Baskerville—a man who’d been called Levi until he inherited his current name—visited the room, she was resting her elbows on the windowsill, looking out.

  Both the walls and the floor of the tower room were bare, and the rough stonework lay exposed. It seemed a bit too bleak for a lady’s private room. A bed, a sofa, bookshelves, and minimal furnishings. There weren’t many things in the wide, round room, but their workmanship made it clear at a glance that they were all first-class articles.

  From her place at the window, she must have registered the visitor’s footsteps, but she didn’t turn to look at Levi.

  Beyond the window lay the vast forest that surrounded the tower, but she wasn’t looking at the forest. She was looking nearly straight down. When he saw her there, gazing down gloomily, Levi broke into a mischievous smile.

  “…Lacie.”

  He called to her back.

  At that, in response to the voice, she—Lacie—turned, her long, black hair swaying. Her strong-willed red eyes found Levi. Those eyes marked Lacie as an accursed child of ill omen.

  “What’s the matter? See something interesting down there?”

  As she answered Levi’s question, Lacie’s tone was cold:

  “Nii-sama and Jack are about to fight with swords. That’s your doing, isn’t it, Glen.”

  “Those aren’t real swords. They’re just blunted toys for mock battles.”

  Levi’s response earned him a caustic look from Lacie. That’s not what I was asking, her eyes seemed to say.

  Lightly evading the look, Levi walked over to stand beside Lacie. He looked down, too.

  Behind the tower, on a narrow, grassy lawn, two men stood facing each other, holding swords. One, a reticent man with black hair, was Levi’s valet, Oswald. The other was Jack Vessalius, a mild-looking man with long, golden hair bound into a single braid.

  In addition to serving as Levi’s valet, Oswald was Lacie’s older brother. In the near future, he would become the next “Glen,” the head of the Baskervilles. By nature, he was taciturn and serious to a fault: the polar opposite of his carefree master.

  Jack Vessalius was the third son of the House of Vessalius, a lower-ranking noble family. About two months earlier, he’d visited the Baskerville mansion as a musician for the House of Barma, and had been reunited with Lacie for the first time in eight years…apparently. Jack had told Levi that, for those eight years, he’d thought of nothing except seeing her again. Then Levi had told him about a secret way into the mansion, and had simultaneously given him permission—or rather, ordered him—to come and see Lacie. Ever since, he’d shown up once every two or three days.

  Levi was amused by Jack’s devotion and his innocent—or, no, it was too strong for innocence—adoration for Lacie.

  “Don’t give me that look.” As Levi responded to the girl, who’d fixed him with an accusing glare, he sounded entertained. “I told him it was all right for the two of you to go on an outing. You and Jack.”

  At Levi’s casual words, Lacie’s eyes widened very slightly.

  …As a child of ill omen, she was kept isolated in this tower.

  Although she was allowed to stroll around the Baskerville mansion and the area surrounding the tower, she was forbidden to leave the grounds. Very rarely, Levi would invite her to go into town with him, but these were special cases, and she was never allowed to go out without a Baskerville chaperone.

  Lacie looked suspicious, and Levi continued: But.

  “I gave him one condition. He has to win a swordfight against Oswald.”

  “Not possible,” Lacie said, flatly and with no hesitation. Levi’s amused expression didn’t flicker.

  “You don’t think so?” he asked. “When I told him you were bored because you couldn’t leave the grounds, Jack was all for it. He does have some experience, apparently.”

  “You’re well aware of Nii-sama’s skill with a sword.”

  “True. None of my best people can match him. …Besides, I told Oswald not to lose.”

  “Whatever for? Are you just killing time?”

  Lacie’s question held a hint of displeasure. Levi told her that wasn’t it.

  “If I wanted that, I’d have had them do something more interesting. —Ah, they’re starting.”

  At Levi’s prompting, Lacie glanced down.

  Until that point, Jack and Oswald had been talking, but they’d broken off their conversation, put a little distance between them, and were readying their swords. When Levi called to them from the window with an easygoing “Heeeey,” they both looked up in the direction of the voice.

  Oswald bowed to his master silently. There was no change in his expression.

  When Jack saw Lacie next to Levi, his face brightened. “Hallo, Lacie!” he called, waving a hand.

  “…………”

  However, Lacie didn’t respond. She only looked at Jack.

  With a sidelong glance at Lacie, Levi gave a faint smile, then addressed the pair on the ground:

  “All right, you two. Start on my mark. Understand?”

 
At Levi’s words, Jack and Oswald looked at each other, then formally touched the tips of their swords together. Jack’s smile vanished, and the eyes he turned on Oswald were serious. At Levi’s “Go!”, Jack made the first move. Oswald stood still, waiting for him.

  Seeming impressed by Jack’s daring, Levi muttered:

  “Well, if he lasts a minute, we’ll call it a good fight—”

  Before he’d even finished his sentence, there was a metallic clannng, and Jack’s sword was knocked high into the air.

  …By a single blow from Oswald.

  Thrown off-balance by the casual attack, Jack sat down hard on the lawn. Oswald swung the blade back, pointing its tip at Jack’s nose. Astonished, Jack stared at the sword’s tip. The lightning-fast battle had winded him, and his shoulders were heaving.

  “…Wow.” Levi covered his face with one hand.

  Beside Levi, Lacie sighed. The sigh sounded disgusted, but there was something like relief in it, too.

  Then she spoke:

  “…He didn’t last ten seconds.”

  “Nope. We’ll have to think of some conditions.”

  And so Jack was given new conditions.

  From this point on, he was allowed to attack Oswald at any time, whenever and as often as he pleased. In addition, if he managed to hit Oswald once, no matter how he did it, it would count as a win for Jack. No matter how many times he was beaten back, as long as he didn’t admit defeat, he wouldn’t lose his right to challenge him.

  It was an unprecedented handicap.

  Three days passed in the blink of an eye. During that time, Jack continued to be thwarted by his target.

  2

  “—Oswald’s weakness?”

  Levi repeated the question Jack had asked him. There were three people in the room: Levi, Jack, and Lacie. Levi was leaning against the wall with a book he’d been reading in one hand. Lacie was seated on the sofa, holding a stuffed black rabbit on her lap.

  Jack was hugging his knees on a chair, looking slightly embarrassed.

  “Yes. I was hoping you’d tell me if you knew.”

  His appearance was rather wretched. He had a gauze patch on his cheek; there was a poultice on the back of his right hand and a bandage wound around his left. There were probably lots of hidden bruises as well. These were the price Jack had paid for continuing to challenge Oswald over the past three days.

  Levi eyed Jack frankly, up and down. Then he spoke, sounding impressed:

  “You’re looking pretty torn up.”

  At Levi’s words, Jack laughed wryly: “Ha-ha-ha…

  “Thanks to that, though, I know: I can’t beat him by challenging him fairly.”

  With a disgusted sigh, Lacie murmured, “Finally.”

  Jack scratched at his cheek with his fingertip. His expression was apologetic, but, possibly because he’d sensed some consideration for himself in Lacie’s voice, he seemed a bit happy, too. Levi, still leaning against the wall, watched the two of them, amused. He put a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

  “And so you want to take advantage of Oswald’s weakness. It’s not a bad idea. But…”

  “You’re right. Nii-sama’s weakness…”

  Lacie also murmured; she put a hand to her shapely chin and seemed to brood.

  Seeing both Levi and Lacie look stumped, Jack drew his eyebrows together in concern.

  Quietly, he spoke:

  “He…doesn’t have one, then? True, he leaves no openings—”

  “Nope.”

  “No.”

  Levi and Lacie spoke at the same time. —Huh? Jack looked at them.

  They both continued:

  “He’s got too many.”

  “He has too many.”

  Jack looked blank. He blinked rapidly.

  “Too many… You mean weaknesses? Oswald does?”

  “That’s right,” Lacie agreed. “So many, I wasn’t sure which to tell you about first,” she said.

  “Mm-hm.” Levi nodded gravely.

  “First, Oswald’s a nap fiend. To put it bluntly, the guy sleeps anywhere. I bet he’s probably napping somewhere in the forest nearby right now. If you haven’t seen him like that yet, Jack, you’ve just had bad timing.”

  Jack’s eyes were wide with surprise. “But…” He looked puzzled.

  “But wouldn’t someone of Oswald’s caliber sense me and wake up if I simply came near him with a sword?”

  Lacie shook her head, speaking with decisive self-confidence:

  “He wouldn’t wake up. Not for something like that. Even if the forest was on fire, Nii-sama would have no trouble staying asleep. Then, when he woke after all the trees had burned to ash, he’d probably say…”

  At that point, Lacie scowled in an imitation of Oswald and mimicked his speech:

  “‘The landscape was different when I fell asleep. What’s the meaning of this?’”

  She’d captured his mannerisms well, and Levi snorted with laughter. Jack never doubted anything Lacie told him, but even he said, “…I see,” as if he hadn’t expected that.

  “And then—Let’s see.”

  Lacie kept speaking, sounding entertained. She didn’t seem to feel any compunction about telling him Oswald’s weaknesses. On the contrary: Her voice was cheerful, as though she was telling him the things she thought were cute about her big brother.

  She tapped her lips lightly with a finger.

  “Cherry tomatoes. He doesn’t like eating those.”

  “Cherry…tomatoes?”

  Possibly he again hadn’t expected Lacie’s words; Jack repeated them, sounding bewildered:

  “By ‘cherry tomatoes,’ you mean those? The little tomatoes?”

  “That’s right.”

  Lacie nodded decisively. Levi picked up her words and continued:

  “He says the way the pulp spurts out when he bites into them is nauseating, and he can’t handle it. The last time he accidentally ate one, Oswald froze up and stayed that way for a while. Nothing changed, not even his expression, so the server didn’t notice.”

  Levi snickered as if he’d remembered it.

  Lacie also smiled merrily.

  “The mansion was in an uproar over it.”

  Jack murmured appreciatively, folding his arms and lowering his head, as if he was thinking:

  “…He’s that bad with them. So bad he freezes up… That certainly is a weakness.”

  “I like them. They’re delicious.”

  Lacie laughed gaily. Then she went on:

  “And then— The people Nii-sama likes are probably a weakness, too.”

  “Ah, I think I understand that. Sort of.”

  Jack nodded.

  Levi said, “He’s the type who’ll get his head taken off while he’s sleeping by somebody he trusts. He’s sickeningly naive.” His tone was joking, but the words were caustic. Lacie glanced at Levi, correcting him: “Nii-sama is kind.” Jack nodded, agreeing with Lacie. Then his face grew cheerful:

  “In that case, naturally the person Oswald likes would be—”

  The three of them spoke at once:

  “Jack,” said Lacie.

  “Lacie,” said Jack.

  “Me!” said Levi.

  Wordlessly, with odd expressions on their faces, Jack and Lacie looked at Levi.

  Levi seemed full of confidence; he’d jabbed a thumb at his own chest and spoken as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As she looked at him, Lacie’s gaze was endlessly cold.

  “Of course it’s me. I’m his master, after all!”

  Levi firmly pointed at himself again, emphasizing this. Lacie let her gaze slip away from him, pretending she hadn’t seen or heard a thing. At that cold reaction, Levi’s expression softened happily.

  Jack spoke, with a bewildered smile:

  “Erm, Lacie? I’d believe it’s you or his master, but I can’t imagine it’s me.”

  “—I wonder.”

  Lacie only smiled coolly.

  Jack began folding down the fingers of
his right hand, counting Oswald’s weaknesses. They’d mentioned three: napping, cherry tomatoes, and “people he likes.” Jack exhaled, sounding impressed. “There are lots more,” Lacie said.

  Jack shook his head.

  “No, this is more than enough.”

  “Well, give it your best. Lacie’s looking forward to going out, too. —Aren’t you?”

  Levi spoke, putting an arm around Lacie’s shoulders and drawing her close.

  Lacie pushed at Levi as if he was a nuisance and spoke bluntly:

  “That’s right. I was supposed to get to go earlier, but it got canceled, you see. I’m looking forward to it, Jack.”

  Two months earlier. The day Jack had visited the Baskerville mansion as a musician.

  Originally, Lacie had been supposed to go into town with Levi. However, Levi had forgotten about the social affair with the House of Barma, and he’d had to break his promise. Lacie’s words held more sarcasm aimed at Levi than actual anticipation directed at Jack.

  However, Jack’s expression was filled with delight.

  “All right, Lacie. I’ll take you outside.”

  His expression and words were far too direct; they were the complete opposite of the other pair’s exchange, which had been charged with unspoken meaning. As she looked at Jack, Lacie’s eyes widened very slightly. For his part, Levi narrowed his eyes at Jack, intrigued.

  With a cruel smile, he muttered:

  “You know, you really are—”

  After leaving the room, Jack descended the stairs alone.

  “I’m looking forward to it, Jack.”

  His expression was filled with cheerful satisfaction at the words Lacie had spoken to him.

  The feelings inside him were pure, unmarred by a single cloud.

  Lacie, your delight is my delight. Your joy is my joy—

  Ever since the day he’d met her, under a cold, gray sky.

  The world had been hollow and meaningless, and so had he, but for the first time, everything had gained meaning.

  …Himself, an illegitimate child. His father, who’d abandoned him and his mother. His mother, who’d continued to believe in his father until she’d broken. He’d hated the whole world, becoming completely empty in the end, and then she’d appeared, and meaning was born.