Best Laid Plans

1888: Carriages and Questions

The carriage rumbled away from London, its lone passenger staring out the window, antidote safely in hand. Wang Chan had been as unpleasant as ever, sneering and rubbing his greasy hands together while he searched through his stores of poisons and venoms for the antidote. But, unpleasant as he was, Dio knew his poisons—and his antidotes—were effective. He’d witnessed their effects first hand after all.

Dio gripped the small package tightly in his hand, the corners of the envelope digging into the palm of his hand. Lord Joestar could be saved. It was only a few more hours to the Joestar Estate, but Dio wished they could go faster. But he knew he could not afford to be careless. If the horses slipped in the light snow and toppled the carriage off a cliff, there would be no hope for his father’s survival. Dio would take no chances.

He settled into his seat, watching the peaceful countryside pass by out the window. It had been a long time since he had passed this way in daylight, and then he hadn’t been interested in the view—only plots and schemes. So now he made up for it, drinking in the beautiful English countryside on the road home from London.

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Erina bumped up and down as the carriage rolled over a bump in the road, her head almost hitting the ceiling at the speed they were going. It was a long drive from London to the Joestar Estate, but Erina had left London as the sun rose and was going as fast as she could. Her mind was racing, new schemes and plots rushing through her head, faster than the carriage raced down the country roads.

Her original plan was too boring now. It was safe, sure, but it would leave her mortal, to die from illness or injury or old age. But with the Mask…with the mask, she would be immortal! She could live forever with the Joestar fortune. The basis of her plan would stay the same—kill Lord Joestar and Dio, marry Jonathan, then kill him. After all, it was a sound plan. But now she had an extra step. When the moment was right, she would use the mask on herself. With the new powers she would possess—like the inhuman strength the man at the river had demonstrated—no matter when she enacted that step, she’d have no problems finishing off any remaining Joestars.

She settled back into her seat, staring at the Stone Mask, rolling it over and over in her hands, delicately tracing its’ face. The power it contained was almost impossible to believe. But Erina had witnessed its power first hand, and she was going to claim it for her self.

Who created this? Erina wondered as she stared at the carvings on the face of the mask. Though, I suppose the more important question is:

Are they still alive?

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“What do you mean you’re sold out!” Jonathan exclaimed, staring down at the poison seller.

“Well, you see, good sirs,” the little man rubbed his hands together, cowering, fumbling for an excuse. “Another young man has already been here tonight and bought my entire stock.”

Another young man? Could it be Dio? He wasn’t the one responsible for the poison, not if he was buying the antidote! Jonathan almost sighed in relief.

“Really?” Speedwagon said. “Another young man, buying the same antidote we’re looking for, on the same night we need it to save my friend’s father? That’s awfully convenient Mr Chan.”

The poison seller nodded before realising what Speedwagon was implying.

“No, no! I swear I’m telling you the truth.”

Speedwagon raised his eyebrows and folded his arms.

“Very well then, if such a young man did come by tonight, what did he look like?”

“He—he was wearing a mask! I couldn’t see his face!” Speedwagon frowned and the poison seller seemed to realise the trouble he was in. He scrambled for more details. “He—he had blond hair! And—and three moles on his left ear! He—his cloak it—it had black feathers on it and he was wearing a top hat! I’m telling the truth I swear!”

“Why you—you’re just making this up!” Speedwagon stepped forward to punch the man, but Jonathan held him back. Speedwagon looked at him questioningly.

“He’s telling the truth, Speedwagon. I know that man.” He’s the one I followed here. “The more important question though is,” He pointed at the poison seller. “Why did he buy all of your stock?”

The poison seller, relieved that Jonathan had believed him, stopped cowering and stood up straight.

“There’s not much demand for antidotes, good sir. It’s the poisons that are in much higher demand. But, I keep a dose of most antidotes on hand. But that’s it, one dose. And the last young man bought it.”

Jonathan nodded, but his mind was far away, trying to piece together all the information he had surrounding his father’s poisoning.

If Dio has already bought the antidote, I no longer need to worry. He’s probably already on his way back to Father. But if Dio hadn’t bought the poison, Jonathan realised, who did?