by Lani Lenore
“Would you like me to wait somewhere so that I won’t be in your way?” she asked.
“No, I want you to come with me,” he said without hesitation. “I want you to watch.”
“What?” she asked, hardly able to get it out.
“I want you to see what they really are. All they are.”
There was a tinge of wavering pleasure in his voice. Not only was he perfectly willing to do this deed he’d promised to do, she saw now that he was actually anticipating it! She was disgusted once again, just like his refusal to help the bound ballerina doll.
Just a doll, Anne, she reminded herself. They’re all just dolls. Even him. But, that just wasn’t true, was it?
“How are you going to do it?” she inquired.
“I’m going to walk inside, find the princess doll, and it’ll be done.”
The nutcracker’s face was very serious as he spoke. Then again, it always was. He crossed his arms as if the job would be as simple as that. She crossed her arms as well, looking up at him, challenging his method. The flickering light danced over them both. How could anything be so easy? There would certainly be some sort of consequences.
“Still, we can’t have you getting hurt, now can we?” he considered. “Nor can we have you found out.”
He was right about that, and she was glad to hear him say it. Yes, he wanted to be kept safe at all cost. Was it really going to be as easy as he’d indicated? Anne tried to remember what she knew about Elizabeth’s toys. She had never paid much attention, but–
“Oh my…” she said suddenly, putting a hand to her mouth, as a sudden thought hit her
Armand was watching her, but she had completely drifted off from him, and did not notice how he was looking at her, waiting patiently. He waited to see if she would speak without being pushed.
“I remember Elizabeth’s doll, Princess Pirlipat,” she said finally. “I’ve watched her play for hours with that house but I simply didn’t think of it until now.”
He didn’t seem to be following her. Perhaps now he knew what it was like to fall behind. Or maybe it was just another thing to get aggravated about.
Her eyes were wide when she looked up at him.
“I forgot about something.”
“That would be?” he inquired flatly.
Anne shook her head once more as she recalled it.
“The Three,” she said.
2
Sitting on a throne of wood that was lacquered over with gold paint, licked by the light of the candles inside the castle–house, the lovely princess Pirlipat was apprehensive.
She was a pampered doll, loved above all others by her mistress, young Elizabeth. Her brown hair was long and in perfect curls, adorned with two pink ribbons. Her dress was of the same color, puffy sleeves and a long skirt, decorated with bows.
No good would have come from the child seeing her favorite girl like this, with her brow furrowed so intensely that it seemed the porcelain might crack. Her delicate head resting in a gloved hand, she sighed greatly. Things were not right within her kingdom. It was falling apart. Some were still loyal to her, but many had fled to seek the protection of the Lady. Perhaps it was just best to let them go. If she’d not been so stubborn and dedicated to her crown, she might have gone herself, because something was coming. She didn’t know what it was, but it was something terrible. She trusted her intuition.
“Is there something wrong, princess?”
Pirlipat lifted her head, seeming to suddenly realize that she was sitting in her own throne room. She looked up the one who addressed her, into the concerned blue gaze of Lakke.
The soldier was always so concerned about her feelings. This was what she liked most about him. Pirlipat opened her mouth to insist that she was fine, but was swiftly interrupted before she’d even begun.
“That’s a rather imbecilic question,” came the voice of Rivere, drifting from where he stood at the window. He was peering out at the toys below who were gathering useful items before heading into the dark shafts. “Everyone is leaving and you have the nerve to ask her majesty if something is wrong?”
“As long as some still remain, there is hope,” Lakke insisted.
Rivere ‘hmph’d’ in reply.
To the side, the princess’s third guardian stood silently.
They were a fine trio. Wooden dolls with handsome faces of polished glass from the same mold. They each stood seven and a half inches tall. Their hair was real; their clothes were cloth, even down to their gloves. The first was with golden hair and kind, blue eyes of glass. The second with flaming red hair and intense green eyes. The third, brown–haired with firm, russet orbs. Lakke, Rivere, and Brooke. Created by Euan; named by Euan. The three of them were soldiers worthy of the Lady Sovereign’s envy.
Pirlipat had been married to all three of them at some time or another by Elizabeth, kissed them all many times, but it only led to confusion. She would never know which one she truly loved. Each one was so very different. She supposed, actually, that she loved them all, just knowing for certain that they would always be with her.
“We should be out there right now trying to convince them to stay,” Rivere growled, slamming his fist against the wall. “If they go to the Lady, they will be the direct target of the rodents! Have they not seen that we have kept them safe all this time?”
“Be calm,” Pirlipat instructed, lowering her head to look at her hands in her lap. “If they want to go, we have to let them. It is not our right to stand in their way.”
“She’s right,” said Lakke, looking at his brother from beneath his blond hair. “Those who are truly loyal will stay, and at least the princess will be safe.”
Rivere crossed his arms like a spoiled child, closing his emerald eyes briefly. “If someone doesn’t stand up and tell them they’re making a mistake, they will all go! Perhaps they are simply waiting for the princess to make an appearance and tell them to stay! If we do not make this known, even the loyal ones will leave!”
The princess was silent a moment. She did not want to stand in the way of the toys she had once governed, but would it do to beg them to stay now?
Pirlipat let her eyes drift across the room, locking finally on the quiet, dark–haired soldier that stood there against the wall. When Lakke and Rivere got into disagreements, their brother hardly participated. He just stood away as if he was lost elsewhere in something so much deeper than anything the rest of them saw. But the princess knew he was taking it all in. He spoke when he saw the need. Sometimes though, she found that he needed a push.
“What do you think, Brooke?”
The doll’s brown eyes drifted to his princess, looking through her. What was he thinking? A brief excitement rushed throughout her for the mystery of it. Finally, he opened his mouth.
“It is what Her Majesty decides.”
That was all he said.
“Fine, then. Fine!” Rivere threw his hands. “Let’s just twiddle our thumbs until we’re all that’s bloody left!”
Pirlipat raised a hand as if to console the very aggravated Rivere, but he was too far away. The brother with the flaming temper left the chamber, no doubt going off to pound the wall in his fury. Lakke knelt before the throne, taking the princess’s fragile hand.
“He will come around,” he promised her. “All will be well.”
At that, the princess couldn’t help but smile. With the three at her side, she knew that, one way or another, things would come out alright. The kingdom would not fall completely, and whatever evil was coming could be averted.
3
From the side, Brooke watched everything. He heard every word. He saw Rivere get angry. He saw Lakke try to shut him down. He saw the worry in the eyes of the princess, but he felt nothing.
He couldn’t say a word, for then they would know about him. If they knew what he knew, he wondered if they would still act this way, as if all of this mattered. He was sure they would not.
All it took was a simple understandin
g–an understanding that none of them actually existed.
4
“The Three are a group of soldiers who always stay with the princess, even in play,” Anne had said. “I don’t know how much of a threat they will be, but they were created to be her protectors. If toys have roles, then they will be true to theirs. They’re likely with her now.”
The nutcracker considered this new predicament. He would like to have a look at this ‘three’, but on the other hand, he’d just as soon look at them as to slice through them. They wouldn’t be able to stop him. No one could.
Anne, in the meantime, had let her eyes drift to the side, landing on a pile of doll clothes that had been pulled from a drawer and disregarded in the haste to leave. A few dolls rummaged through them quietly. These were nice things, but most appeared to be male attire, designed specifically for the Three.
Without giving any word to her companion, she started off toward them, but Armand was quick with his attention. He followed her swiftly.
She took care to stay away from the other dolls, but they looked much too absorbed in their own business to notice her. She pulled up the first dress she saw.
Too large.
The second she found was too short and would simply show too much of her skin. Finally, she found something descent. It was long, the sleeves were long, and it wasn’t entirely hideous. It was a nice creamy color that wouldn’t stand out too much. Even though the neck dipped just a bit, it was likely the best she would find.
She held it up, opening her mouth to ask Armand if he thought it was good enough, but stopped when she saw that he’d apparently found something for himself.
He pulled on a long coat that was almost the very same deep blue of his wooden suit. Almost. It fit decently; perhaps a bit small across the chest, but it did well to hide the ridges against his sides and nearly concealed the ones on his arms completely. It was a good disguise for him. Unless one looked terribly close, one would never guess he was a nutcracker, and might make him less likely to be identified by the Rat King’s agents.
Armand tied the straps that held his sword to the outside of the coat and looked over to her. She was watching him, and after a short moment she brought the dress to his attention. He gave a nod, letting her know it was good enough.
Anne looked around for some place to change and spotted a small round table with a cloth hanging over it to the floor. He saw her see it, and they moved toward it. After he’d checked beneath it like a parent peering under the bed skirt for monsters, she went inside. He waited.
She worked quickly, and in a few moments she emerged wearing the gown she’d found. It fit her nicely though still clinging more than suitably, but at least it did not drag the floor. It would not hinder her if she had to run.
He looked over her a moment. It was…pretty. She was pretty. But he had no time to look at pretty things.
Armand moved toward the castle–house wherein his business awaited him, but a tug to the lapel of his new coat made him stop. Anne motioned him down toward her, and though he was unsure, he conceded. He leaned forward a bit. Her hands wrapped around his neck and pulled the long hair loose from where it was flattened beneath the coat. She gathered it over his left shoulder and gave a nod of satisfaction for the look of it.
Surprisingly, her hand lingered in the white strands a moment. They looked at each other, both oddly curious about what the other was thinking, but neither of them spoke.
And then the silence that had seemed to gather around them was torn apart by screams.
From the shafts, the sound rang like the bells of the Judgment. Toys began to flee from the passages and back into the room, some of them carrying pieces of their own body. From the mass that spilled back into the area as if the house had vomited them back up, evil slipped. Armand gripped his sword.
And the princess’s kingdom was invaded by dozens of bladed, cackling puppets.
Chapter Seventeen: The Way of the Guardian
1
Princess Pirlipat screamed. The sound had simply burst forth from her without reason, but still, she knew. Something was wrong! The evil had come!
“What is it, princess?” Lakke asked her, hurrying to her side.
Her worried eyes lifted up to the soldier–one of her three princes–but she knew he could not protect her now. All hope faded from within her.
“Something has happened!” she gasped, clenching Lakke’s hands.
Elizabeth… Pirlipat prayed silently. What should I do?
2
Below the face of the watchful clock that sat high in the tower, wicked puppets with blades for arms cut down the fleeing toys of Pirlipat’s kingdom, but if one had looked closely, they would see that there was not so much cutting down as there was causing panic. The toys scattered, and that was exactly what was wanted.
The marionettes carried on, enjoying their work. They poked stuffed animals with their pointed hands, ripping off tails. They chased pretty dolls around in circles, laughing maniacally like mischievous sprites. Any soldier that tried to oppose them was damaged.
There was a tall soldier doll with white hair and a blue coat standing to the side, unmoving, and when a group of the puppets saw him, he became their focus. How dare he simply stand there like that without an ounce of fear on his wooden face? They would teach him what terror was! They rushed at him, but he did not flee. They raised their weapons to strike him down.
He raised his own.
Splinters of wood flew in all directions as Armand chopped through the limbs of the puppets, knocking off their weapons so they could do no more harm. He didn’t bother destroying them. He didn’t have time for that, only needing them out of his way. Anne stayed behind him as he’d instructed. He’d promised her that she would be safe, and as he’d promised, not one of the puppets made it past him, simply falling over without the use of their arms and legs.
Behind him, Anne watched the display of swordsmanship. This was no blind act of self–defense; there was skill here. True skill. Where had this nutcracker come from? She needed to gather more pieces of this puzzle to figure it out. He certainly was not going to piece it together for her. For now, he was only her protector. Her cruel, secretive, domineering, selfish…
Strong, focused…
She banished those thoughts immediately. There was some demon inside, taunting her. The devil was whispering in her ear. She would not fall completely into this world. She could not! Succumbing to this, which was anything but normal or substantial, would surely be death.
But it’s too late, her self told her. You’re already convinced this is real. And you’re actually starting to care.
Her head jerked to the side, wincing for the thoughts and hoping for her freedom from them–but she saw something helpful there, and her eyes lit immediately.
“Armand!”
The nutcracker batted away the last attacking puppet with his arm, knocking it down. He turned back toward Anne; saw that she was pointing toward the princess’s keep. He traced her gaze.
The doors of the castle house were open and two lean figures were peering out. Open. Easy access.
“Go!” he instructed, and the two of them dashed for the entrance.
3
It was terrible, actually, that the princess herself was the one who had insisted to allow them inside–these two of the three persons who were to eventually become her murderers. The princess could not allow her people to be outside in this attack, and since Anne and Armand were the only ones coherent enough to attempt running to the castle, they were permitted inside. But the doors were shut promptly afterward.
Some marionettes had been chasing them, as they saw through the closing doors, and Armand helped to barricade the door firmly. Anne peered around the entrance room, seeing that it was rather plain and small, adorned only with a large staircase. Why not? It was a dollhouse, after all, but the floor, however, seemed to be made of tile.
Princess Pirlipat and her three soldiers were in this room. She s
tood beside one of them with her hands clasped together near her face, while the other two were busy with locking off the door by laying large pieces of wood across it that had been on hand for just a situation.
As the last board fell into place, they were all locked away together in the house: the nutcracker, the Three, the princess, and Anne. Tension from many different sources was taking the air right out of the room. Outside, puppets slashed at the doors.
“What has happened?” the light–haired guardian of the princess demanded. “Where did those things come from?”
“Where did you come from?” demanded the one with the flaming hair, glaring menacingly at Armand and stepping in front of his princess.
They’d not recognized them as members of their kingdom? Was it possible that the soldier could sense the threat? Anne began to feel uneasy.
“You’re a sharp one,” Armand commented blandly. “We’re, in fact, from another kingdom, and if you’d like me to say that we mean no harm here, you have my deepest apologies. Because we do.”
Pirlipat’s eyes focused on the tall toy before her, staring into the hollow of his eyes. Anne saw that fear in the princess’s eyes. The woman stood off to the side, seeming unattached to anything that was happening as if looking through a window. She watched it all unfold, clenching the unlit cat’s eye to her pale dress.
Armand was the focal point of the entire specter. The princess could not take her fearful gaze off him. The red–haired guardian sneered in anger. The blond one was aghast. But the dark–haired one… He was different. He wasn’t paying any attention to what was going on.
He was looking at her–at Anne, staring intently with firm eyes. What was in those eyes? Distaste? Longing? Understanding? She couldn’t tell. Eventually, he looked away, and Armand’s words brought her back as well.
“I’ve come to destroy her by the order of a higher authority, and don’t be fooled: I expect you to stand in my way. But that’s your choice. You can no doubt guess the consequences.”
