by Lani Lenore
Once she saw that the curtains were closed tightly and felt comfortable that the guard was standing just outside, Olivia moved across the room. There was a tiny spot there that had been covered by a table made out of a building block. It had been placed there to plug a small hole, but at this moment, Olivia wanted to see that opening.
With a bit of effort, she pushed the block out of the way and squeezed through, escaping the palace.
Was it terribly wicked of her to run away? Perhaps, but it was for a very good reason. She understood the reason why her nutcracker prince had not come to her aid. It was because she was not actually in danger! She was much too well–protected within her kingdom, and if she wanted to be saved, she would have to need saving. She hadn’t forgotten about what Armand had warned her about the rodents being after her specifically, but there were no doubts in her mind that she would be delivered before anything terrible happened.
It was very simple really. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t thought of it before. If she was held hostage by the Rat King, then Armand would certainly come to rescue her. That was what heroes were for.
The Lady walked away from the palace, bypassing her own soldiers so that they would not try to stop her, and moved toward the nearest camp of mice that had taken refuge on the bottom shelf of a bookcase.
Gathered around a candle, they saw her approaching before she stopped in front of them, but even so, they could do nothing but stare.
Olivia took a deep breath.
“I wish to be captured,” she said in her most commanding voice. “Now.”
The mice looked at one another in surprise, but slowly they all began to grin.
“Of cours–s–se,” hissed one of them. “Right this–s way, milady.”
Chapter Thirty–Two: Man’s Vexation
1
William Ellington sat at the desk in his study, looming over paperwork, but not looking at it. His hands were over his closed eyes, propping up his head over the desktop. He sat there, deliberating.
He was back inside this room because he couldn’t sleep–because he couldn’t bear to hear his wife’s labored breathing so close to him on the mattress. It was almost over. By God! Why could it not be over already?
It had been his own idea to end Agatha’s life–his wife; the mother of his children. There were several reasons why he had finally come to act on those fantasies of having her die, and he would admit that most of them were selfish. But was she not his wife–his property, like so many plots that he owned? He should have been able to do with her as he wished. That was proper, wasn’t it?
It was a thought such as that which had made the tiny devil on his left shoulder triumph over the angel on his right. He justified his actions by that.
He no longer remembered a time when he had loved her at all. They had simply been a good match–her family having been suitable to his–but he wanted more than that now. Even looking at his children brought him very little solace, though he had nothing against those dears. Olivia perhaps, but not the others. Ah, his Olivia. Would he miss her? He wasn’t sure.
The love he had for his money and his own possessions was also another very good point. Divorce was an option, but not one that could be considered seriously. Agatha would take the children, and with them, she would have everything else. He’d worked too hard to invest the money his father had given him–to build it up and make it even greater than it had ever been. How could he let go of everything that he’d worked for? The woman wasted that money, spending it on trinkets. Would she have ever understood the value? He guessed not.
Then, of course, there was Anne.
Such grace and beauty… She should have been a rich man’s wife. William couldn’t say that they had much of a relationship as far as knowing one another, but there was undoubtedly a connection. She belonged in his sheets. There was a quiet understanding between them, and though he hardly ever asked her what she thought, she seemed to understand him. She could always guess his mood. That woman knew her place, and he couldn’t escape her, even in sleep.
On this night that he should have been concentrating on how he would act once Agatha was dead, his thoughts could not stop drifting to the other woman. He sat, battling the urge to go to her and find a brief ounce of comfort that would prepare him for the next day, but he could not do that. What if he became overwhelmed and told her everything? What if she did not take well to his murder plot? No, he could not risk it.
The whole thing had been his own idea, but it had been his nephew, Todd, who had planned the precise working of it. It had just so happened that the clever youth had come to him one day, overcome with love and begging William to give Olivia to him. It was on this confession of desire that the gears in William’s mind had begun to turn. The two of them had struck up a deal. If Todd could craft a way to rid him of Agatha without being suspected of murder, he would be allowed to take Olivia away with him without protest. Euan would stand against him, but William would deal with that. They had made their promises.
The young man had come through.
Todd had provided a poison, and very methodically, the two of them had administered it to Agatha in small doses. Over the past year, the constant presence of it in her system had weakened her, and though she tried to hide it, it was noticed by those who were closest to her. William acted concerned, and all the servants were fooled. At her suddenly greater illness and death, which would come about shortly, they would all say that they had seen it coming.
Tomorrow, Todd would give the final, larger dose that would wreck the woman’s system and make her dreadfully sick. Her death was promised within just a few days. Todd would stay here with the rest of the family after that and make sure it came to pass. Then, once it was over, he would go back to his studies, and later return for Olivia. By that time, William would have secured what he had planned as well–
The sound of the door opening shattered his thoughts, and William jerked his head in surprise to see someone entering so abruptly. His heart settled when he saw that it was only Todd, looking flustered.
“I can’t get into Olivia’s room,” the young man said.
For a moment, William only stared at him, but then decided he likely didn’t want to know why the young man was trying to get into the girl’s room at so late an hour.
“Planning to leave after all?” he questioned, already having rethought his earlier nervous suggestion for that very thing. He needed Todd to stay and make sure that the youth simply wouldn’t take his daughter and leave him with a very sick, but not dying, wife.
“I heard a loud noise up there and now the door is blocked by something,” Todd replied indignantly, crossing his arms. “I just want to make sure she’s alright.”
William lifted his gaze to those words. Of the few things that he and Anne had ever discussed together, Olivia was one. Anne had told him before that Olivia would rise sometimes late in the night and play quietly, giggling softly and talking to herself. William knew that the girl wasn’t normally violent–even though he had allowed Todd the façade of the broken dolls earlier on in the night–so some sort of loud disturbance was uncharacteristic indeed. Perhaps there was reason to be concerned?
“What sort of loud noise?” he inquired seriously.
2
Within the house, a pair of marionette brothers treaded silently along with no aim or purpose. They were only twins now, for the third of them had been cut down by their own hands. Though they’d thought that Brooke’s death had been the only thing they desired, Lakke and Rivere were somehow unfulfilled by it.
They moved on without speaking. Lakke reveled in his depression while Rivere created violent thoughts. When they had dragged the flesh woman down into the darkness to the one who awaited her, they’d felt decently elated, knowing that they’d destroyed the one who had betrayed them, and that the woman was going to get what was coming to her. They’d waited. They’d watched. might from beneath their expectant eyes, the woman had gotten away from the Mast
er and escaped completely.
Edge, who was supposed to be working on the Master’s right hand, had aided the woman and thwarted the following throng of toys and rodents by a flow of sewage. Lakke and Rivere had been with that group, but had stopped before they had fallen into the pit. With a shake of their heads, they’d simply left.
Now, both told themselves that their unworthy brother was dead, but that did little to console either of them and make their hearts content. They were led to realize that it had not been Brooke who they were angry with to start.
In the dark of the shaft, Rivere released an angry cry that echoed behind him as well as before, but the intensity of it was hindered greatly by the whisper that his voice had become. For once, Lakke had no words of encouragement.
“What are we doing?” Rivere hissed. “I should not feel so disgusted with myself!”
Lakke remained silent a moment. Then he spoke.
“I’m sure they will find her again. When they do, I’m sure the situation will be undoubtedly worse for her.”
The gears in Rivere’s mind had begun to turn. So, his brother admitted also that the human woman was the true source of their displeasure? He had been the one to suggest that they take the woman for themselves and destroy her from the start! Perhaps though, it was not too late to remedy that.
“Let’s find her ourselves,” said Rivere anxiously.
“You know that we–” Lakke began to protest, but Rivere didn’t allow him to finish.
“If they find her before we do, fine. And perhaps it will mean death if we kill her ourselves, but mightn’t it be better to die feeling fulfilled than to keep living in torment?”
The blond brother with the cracked face considered a moment, but it wasn’t long before a smile emerged. Rivere smiled as well, knowing that they were both thinking the same thing.
With newfound zeal and unleashed ire, the two of them picked up their pace, moving off to search for that wretched flesh princess for their own destructive purposes.
3
Todd and William made their way up to Olivia’s room, moving quietly through the second floor hall without any light so as not to wake the house. They climbed the stairs to the third floor, each one of them seeming to groan with the annoyance of a testy old man. The two of them cringed with every disturbance to the silence, but they eventually made it to the door of Olivia’s room.
William reached out and gave the knob a twist, testing it. At the feeling of resistance, he shook his head.
“This door is not jammed, Todd,” he said quietly in annoyance. “It’s only locked.”
Todd leaned around to examine the knob, wearing a look of confused disgust.
“Let me see that,” he insisted, reaching out for the knob before William had even stepped out of the way.
Todd placed his hand on the bronze sphere and jerked it left and right. It didn’t give. This was not how it had been before.
“No, it wasn’t locked before,” Todd insisted. “I swear! That means that there’s someone inside!”
“Anne always keeps Olivia’s door locked at night,” William told him, trying to shut down these foolish concerns.
“Look, Anne’s not in her room either,” Todd insisted heatedly.
William’s expression shifted to displeasure at the corners of his mouth and behind his glasses.
“And why were you in Anne’s room to learn that fact?”
“I wanted to see if she knew where Olivia was,” the youth lied.
William shook his head at the way Todd was acting. If he’d known the youth was capable of getting so tightly wound, he might have chosen a better partner. It was too late to go back on that now. The man moved to the table beside the door, lifting up the plant there to retrieve the key that he knew remained there always–only it wasn’t there this time. He didn’t speak this for the chance of upsetting Todd even more, but the young man was already pressing at him again.
“Do you have a key?”
“Not with me,” William said, staring at the empty spot on the table in confusion. “No.”
Todd looked at the door again, fuming all the while.
“I know it’s you, Anne!” he called out, much louder than he should have, beating his hand against the door.
“Are you mad?” William questioned, jerking the man’s arm. “Do you want to wake the whole house?”
“I want to get into that room. If they won’t let us in, we’ll barge in!” The young man’s eyes were lit with inner fire. “Find me a key.”
4
The mice escorted the Lady Sovereign deeper into the house than she had ever dreamed of going. It was as if the very depths of her own conscious had widened, expanding her world to a dark realm she would have never dreamed up willingly. Her hands were bound and she was tied to her rodent captors with strings, but she walked onward freely. The toys had been whispering to her about the rodents for a while, telling her of the Rat King and his cruelty toward them. Still, she’d never been able to truly fear the enemy. They were only mice after all.
Even through a bit of uncertainty for where she was going, the girl was brave and silent.
The mice led her down through the walls where the dust lived, and Olivia never once wondered if she was doing something foolish. She knew how this worked. A lady was captured and held for ransom, or as the hostage of some wicked sorcerer that aimed to make her his bride. Sometimes the girl was frightened, but sometimes she was quite strong, standing up to her captor and having faith in her hero. That was the role Olivia would play. She knew that Armand would come after her. He had to!
After a long journey into the darkness and stench, the mice finally led the girl out into a large room with a long, white floor. It was an attempt at something grand, and the young ruler examined it impassively. It wasn’t long before her eyes focused down the length of the room where she saw a wooden chair. Before that chair sat a table, and from the top of it, blood dripped onto the floor. A large rat was busily chewing away at something that was pink and fleshy. The Lady Sovereign did not allow herself to cringe. What was that rat eating? Young mice? She couldn’t tell. Her mind blocked out the gore with fluffy clouds, shielding her.
When the rat finally raised its head, its eyes locked upon her. That was when she shuddered.
It took a few moments, but the girl finally realized–after he stood–that this enormous, bloody rat before her was in fact the King of Mice. He didn’t look much like a ruler to her–no crown or fancy robe–though as she stood there thinking about it, she wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected. At times, she had imagined an image like this, with the rat being nothing but a disgusting monster. Other times, she imaged him in a grand suit and sitting on a throne like she had done. Now, she saw that she got a mixture of both.
When she saw him, even with his grotesque face and blood–covered claws, her resolve did not waver. She stood proudly before him like a ruler–as an Ellington would have if she had been one any longer. He seemed to recognize this in her, pleased by it, moving away from his chair until he came to stand before her. He was nearly twice her size.
The monstrous rat looked at her, licking his fingers clean but not bothering to wipe his mouth.
“So good to finally meet you, Lady Sovereign,” he said with a disrespectful sneer that she did not like. Blood stained his teeth.
“How is it that you have come by this one?” the Master asked his servants, though not taking his eyes off of Olivia. “From what I last heard, she was very well protected.”
One of the mice took it upon himself to respond.
“Sh–she came with us–s–s willingly.”
The rat did not seem surprised to hear this, though it was uncertain what he was thinking. The Lady Sovereign stared at him, and the Rat King leered at her.
“Is this true?” he asked her, his voice so elegant and musical. “Why would you choose such a thing?”
“I’m not worried,” she said flatly, staring into his bloodshot eyes.
Her gaze seemed to make the rat snicker. He clenched and unclenched his hands.
“Surely you were informed of the dangers for you here. Why would you take such a risk?”
Olivia’s voice did not waver. “Armand will rescue me.”
The rat looked at her incredulously, his grin fading for the moment. He tilted his head a bit in confusion for her words.
“Armand?”
The beast broke out in a burst of laughter, sharing looks with his servants until they saw that it was alright for them to share in the hilarity as well. Olivia was not shocked that the Rat King knew who her hero was, but she was unsure about his amusement. She had been serious. Did he not know?
“You certainly have not heard the stories then,” the rat exclaimed, laughing so hard that he could hardly breathe. “Of how your Armand is good for nothing. How he’s only a failure in every aspect. Even if he did manage to come for you, he’d never be able to pull himself together past his petty emotions enough to get the job done. He didn’t even come for the other woman! Why would you think he would come for you?”
A long string of bloody saliva dripped from the Master’s mouth and dropped onto the floor. Olivia tried to hide her fear and distaste, but the rodents around her shifted uncomfortably. Their master’s outburst was uncharacteristic, and it frightened them deeply. What was the purpose of it? This laughter and these loud proclamations? Was he angry for this? Had the toll of his plans crashing driven him mad? Was he afraid? Because there was something else there aside from plain amusement, and Olivia shuddered to imagine what.
5
Within Augustus’s mind, he knew he was losing grip. Long ago, the line between man and rat had become blurred, but he had kept control of his faculties until now. This mental slip was Armand’s fault. It was this girl’s fault. It was Anne’s fault, and Edge’s. It was not his own fault. He was a man within a rat’s body. A man. He was not a beast. Armand was not a man. He was a nutcracker. A nutcracker could not possibly defeat a man, and Augustus was not going to be bested.
