The Queen Must Die

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The Queen Must Die Page 20

by K. A. S. Quinn


  Katie longed to tell him all: from the loneliness, the bland uncaring isolation of her own life to the far greater terror of hunger, disease and ignorance that surrounded her. She felt it would be a relief to be gone, not just from this time, but from all time – to relieve the world of a reminder of dreadful things to come. DuQuelle seemed to understand. He knelt in front of her and placed her head against his shoulder, the pillow against her back. ‘All you have to do is tell me. And then we can say goodbye to it all. It is a terrible world, Katie, and I promise you will leave it.’ He rocked her back and forth like a baby.

  As Katie opened her mouth to speak there was a sharp rap on the door. She sat up and shook her head. The visions blurred and faded. The spell was broken. DuQuelle sprang back, his look of soft sympathy turning to fury. Wrenching open the door, he glared at his manservant. ‘What… do… you… want?’ he spat.

  ‘I know, sir, you said, sir, not to disturb you, sir,’ the servant sputtered. ‘But… but… the Princess, the Prince… they are here – and they would not go. No sir, they would not take no for an answer.’

  The door pushed open and there stood Princess Alice, followed closely by James O’Reilly and Prince Leopold leaning on the arm of the Reverend Duckworth. ‘I do apologize for this intrusion,’ the Reverend Duckworth bumbled, nearly faint with embarrassment. ‘You see, the Princess and then the Prince – they…’

  Alice waved him away, a pint-sized Queen Victoria. ‘That will do, Duckworth. I take full responsibility for our actions. Now I suggest you step into the hall while I speak to DuQuelle.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ the Reverend Duckworth protested. ‘It is bad enough that three children have the impudence to intrude upon the privacy of an outstanding member of the Royal Household, but to think that you would then…’

  ‘Duckworth, I suggest you reflect on the threats of the Prince Leopold,’ Alice said with great dignity.

  ‘Yes,’ Leopold piped up, a look of satisfaction spreading over his face. ‘Leave the room or I will throw myself out of the window and bleed to death. Truly I will.’

  The Reverend Duckworth led Leopold to a sofa near the window. ‘It is only to preserve your life that I yield to your request,’ he muttered, bowing his way out of the room.

  ‘More likely to save his own skin,’ Leopold said, looking more pleased with himself every minute. ‘Just think of the trouble he’d be in if I died on his watch.’ Leopold took in the room. Staring at Katie and DuQuelle he added, ‘Now which of you is the time traveller and which of you is the devil? Alice was in such a state, I couldn’t half understand what was going on.’

  Alice put her arms around her brother and kissed him on the top of his head. ‘The important thing is that you believed me,’ she said.

  Katie began to come out of her trance. The starvation, the ignorance and the violence she had seen would never quite leave her. But they were fading into the background, and as they lessened, her desire to leave this world lessened with them. ‘No,’ she said, more to herself than anyone in the room, ‘it is not the best of times. But I can’t believe that my own world is beyond saving. To abandon my time would be just like destroying the world. And I cannot believe I am the child who does that. I need to go back, to live. I count. And I can make a difference. Whether there’s anyone there who knows or cares, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I choose to do it.’

  It was as if Katie had been filled with light and air. She turned to talk to her friends – only to find James O’Reilly attacking Bernardo DuQuelle. He had seized the ebony walking stick and was raining blows upon DuQuelle’s head and shoulders. ‘A girl!’ James was screaming, ‘you attacked a girl! She’s thoughtful, clever, funny and a loyal friend. She fixes things, she mends people, she cares. She’s not going to destroy anything. You stay away from her, you, you…’

  Alice shrieked, Leopold tried to rise from the sofa, and Katie darted forward to grab James’s arm. Yes, she had things to do in her own time, but at this moment she was needed in the here-and-now.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Verus and the Malum

  ‘Tea?’ said Alice, pouring from a large silver urn. ‘Milk?’ They were all seated in DuQuelle’s study around a cloth-covered table laden with scones, sandwiches and cakes. ‘This is the first normal meal I’ve had in ages,’ Katie said, giving James a reassuring look. ‘That is if you can call all this sugar, cream and caffeine normal. James, doesn’t your father have any idea how terrible all of this stuff is for your health?’

  Leopold’s normally thin tight lips stretched wide to fit in a scone, covered with whipped cream and jam. ‘Are you really one hundred years old?’ he asked Katie.

  ‘More like over one hundred and fifty, or kind of minus one hundred and fifty,’ she replied. ‘And that one there,’ she added, jerking her head towards DuQuelle, ‘he seems to be, like, beyond age.’

  The situation was out of DuQuelle’s hands. He’d accepted this as he tried to ward off the blows from his own walking stick. The silver top, with its engraved letters and symbols, certainly made it an effective weapon. He rubbed one of the many bumps rising all over his head. He’d have to work with these children. Once Katie had pulled her hot-headed friend off him, DuQuelle had suggested tea. Youth of this age had a constant need for nourishment. If he could keep their mouths and stomach’s full, this would give him time to think.

  Leopold was helping himself to a slice of fruit cake. Alice had never seen him eat so much. ‘What about Duckworth?’ he asked DuQuelle. ‘He might knock down the door and rush in any moment.’

  ‘I’ve sent him to the downstairs drawing room. He’s looking over a portfolio of drawings I am considering purchasing for the Queen’s collection,’ DuQuelle replied. ‘I’ve concocted an explanation for your visit; told him we are planning a charade on the theme of the Crystal Palace as a surprise for the Queen and Prince Albert. That is why you rushed over here. You are young and excitable and couldn’t wait to get started.’

  DuQuelle turned to James and smiled ruefully, still rubbing his head. ‘Have a piece of cake, or a glass of Madeira,’ he offered. ‘Here is your Katie, safe and sound. Now tell the boy, Katie. Tell him I did not harm you.’

  ‘It’s the truth,’ Katie said. ‘DuQuelle was planning to kill me, but he didn’t even hurt me, or at least not very much. But I really could have lived without these last few hours. When I was up here alone, and I saw him coming at me with the sofa cushion, I thought my time was up. How did you three get to me?’

  ‘I was frantic,’ Alice said. ‘But you can imagine the trouble I was in. They bundled me into a carriage with Leopold for the ride home. I told him everything. Before we reached the Palace, we’d ambushed the Reverend Duckworth.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Prince Leopold excitedly. ‘I told him if we didn’t turn around and drive immediately to Half Moon Street, I would throw myself under the horses.’

  ‘And you,’ said DuQuelle, turning to James. ‘How did you end up in the carriage?’

  ‘My father was supposed to ride with Prince Leopold,’ James said stiffly. ‘At the last moment he was called away to a medical emergency. They put me in the carriage instead.’

  Of everyone in the room, James was having the most trouble adjusting to the change of atmosphere. Instead of flight, disguise, mayhem and murder – tea and conversation were the mode of the day. He was more comfortable with the mayhem and murder.

  ‘Young man,’ DuQuelle said, giving him an unpleasant wink. ‘I suggest you cheer up. No one has been hurt, yet. Now,’ he added, looking at the young people before him. ‘How would one turn the phrase? What is to be done about Katie? An ever-widening circle of people know her real identity – Princess Alice, James O’Reilly, Prince Leopold, myself – and the Reverend Duckworth must have some suspicions. This cannot be good.’

  ‘It’s good for me,’ Katie said. ‘It makes it harder for you to kill me.’ They all laughed uneasily and then silence fell around the table. What was DuQuelle go
ing to do about Katie?

  ‘If you lay another finger on her,’ James said.

  ‘Oh, do stop,’ interrupted DuQuelle. ‘Youthful heroics can be so tiresome. No – I’m not going to lay even my pinkie finger on her.’ He turned to Katie and bowed his head, as if saluting an equal. ‘If we cannot eradicate you in this century, we must send you back to your own.’

  ‘But how?’ Alice asked. ‘We’ve been trying and trying – reading every possible book on time and space.’

  ‘We’ve put her under every sofa in Buckingham Palace,’ added James. ‘We think that books somehow have a lot to do with this. We’ve tried to use the book that originally sent Katie here.’

  ‘I’ve read and reread that damned book until I know every word by heart,’ Katie chimed in. ‘Sometimes I’ve felt as if it were working – as if I was flying through time. But when I’ve opened my eyes, I’m still under the sofa, and still in the wrong century.’

  DuQuelle walked over to a shelf and, reaching behind several books, brought out The Daughters of Victoria: Royal Correspondence, 1848–1860. ‘So you think this is the key to your travels,’ he said, handing the book to Katie. ‘Don’t look so startled… just a quick search of the nursery… you are not the only clever ones here. You’re right about the words. They are vital. And Katie probably has been travelling through time, but quite naturally ends up back in the same place. This is a nineteenth-century book and can only lead you back to the nineteenth century.’ DuQuelle opened the book and sniffed delicately, withdrawing his long, curved nose with distaste. ‘Ugh,’ he exclaimed, waving his handkerchief in front of his face. ‘I can smell interference all over this. Someone has tampered with the book. But I no longer believe it was meant for you, Katie.’

  DuQuelle paced the room. ‘What you really need, my dear, is something similar to this book, but from your own time, and in your own words. We must act quickly, before you influence this time any further. Your thwarting of the assassination attempt on the Queen could have disastrous consequences for the future – though somehow I think not. What I do know is that the newly departed assassin was not working alone. His accomplices are looking for Katie. If they find her first and kill her in our time…’

  ‘They would have to kill me first,’ James said.

  ‘And me,’ Alice added.

  ‘Yes,’ DuQuelle replied drily. ‘I’ve noticed that the three of you are quite a loyal little band and I simply cannot afford to entangle the Princess Alice in this.’ He looked at James O’Reilly. ‘It’s a pity film has yet to be invented,’ he mused. ‘You’d make a rugged, if slightly awkward, movie star.’

  James turned to face DuQuelle. ‘Why have you changed your mind about killing Katie? Unlike the Black Tide, you would be able to cover your tracks. She doesn’t exist in this time. No one would question her disappearance. All this talk of “keeping Princess Alice out of it” is just a front. We’re children. We don’t count. No one would believe our story.’

  ‘I would,’ piped up Leopold, still glowing with his newfound role. ‘I believed Alice right away.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alice, ‘you did. But then Leopold, you are exceptional.’ Leopold never looked happier.

  ‘We know there’s more to this than Katie, that there are two other children who travel through time,’ Alice told DuQuelle. She couldn’t help smiling at DuQuelle’s astonishment. ‘Katie’s even seen the other two. A boy and a girl. They’ve appeared to her over and over again, both in her own time, and our time. Of the three, I am certain Katie is the child who brings peace. It was silly of you to frighten her so much when you should be protecting her with all your might. And maybe the best thing is to keep her here, with us, to bring peace…’

  For the first time ever, Katie saw DuQuelle’s face relax, and soften, real colour appearing in his cheeks.

  ‘He looks almost human,’ she thought, as he bowed his head again, this time to the Princess Alice, and spoke slowly, as if finding new words.

  ‘It is not in my make-up – friendship, love and devotion. I have passed too much time in this and many worlds. It has been burnt out of me. But I can recognize these qualities in others, and I salute them in you, Princess Alice. Your friendship for Katie is so true that you do not even consider the possibility that she might bring evil as well as good. Your love of your little brother gives you patience with his illness. For him, you are a greater tonic than any medicine they can administer. And your devotion to your mother, the Queen, is such that you have risked your life to save hers.’ DuQuelle smiled, a true smile. ‘What a pity,’ he murmured, ‘that you will not ever reign as Queen. You are more than fit to lead your country.’

  DuQuelle turned to James O’Reilly with a very different tone. ‘Why is it that good people are so often stubborn and difficult? Just because right is on your side, doesn’t mean you can’t loosen up and enjoy life a bit. The world is not as black and white as you think. But your loyalty is to be admired. I observe that you are not as certain about Miss Katie as the Princess Alice is – yet you will bend your formidable will to the Princess, just as you would bend your knee to the Queen… And yes, you are right to question Katie, as am I.’

  DuQuelle looked at the tiny group gathered around the tea table. ‘So you know about the children of time, the Tempus?’

  They all nodded, except Leopold. ‘I don’t,’ he cried. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Is there anything else you wish to share?’ DuQuelle asked quietly. The little group was silent. Somehow it seemed insulting to voice their suspicions of him, to his face.

  James finally spoke up. ‘We know you are not human.’

  DuQuelle laughed. It was a quite human laugh. ‘You don’t need to look so sheepish. I might not wish to be human. I might be something far superior. Any more marvellous revelations?’

  ‘I’ve seen Lucia,’ Katie said. ‘And Mr Belzen,’ she added in a low voice.

  DuQuelle gave a soft whistle. ‘Belzen!’ he said. ‘And you live to tell me? Katie Berger-Jones-Burg you grow in my estimation with every minute. Are you familiar with the Verus, and the Malum?’

  They hesitated at this, but Leopold cried out again. ‘You really should tell me, now that we all know how helpful I can be.’

  Alice added gently, ‘Leopold should know. He is one of us now. And there’s so much we all don’t understand. I think you should tell. It’s only fair.’

  DuQuelle sighed wearily. ‘Fair,’ he said. ‘Yes, that would be your word, yet another of your quaint notions. But I will explain as a courtesy to the Princess. And I will start at the beginning. Lucia, Belzen and I; we were once part of a civilization, not unlike yours. More intelligent and refined, naturally, and certainly better-looking; but the similarities were striking.’

  ‘Remember, I’ve seen Mr Belzen,’ Katie said. ‘Something’s gone wrong with that civilization of yours.’

  ‘Quite,’ said DuQuelle. He paused again, sniffing the air, searching for the words. ‘But what did go wrong? I’ve often wondered. Were we ambitious, or did we simply want to be better? Did we wish to live on a higher level, or were we driven by power? The motivation could even have been as low as vanity.’

  DuQuelle seemed to forget his visitors as he stared into the distance, reliving the past. He face was still, as always, but his eyes glowed dark with anger and sorrow. It was an uncomfortable sight. Alice coughed slightly, to draw his attention, and asked gently. ‘Your people, what terrible thing did your people do?’

  DuQuelle laughed, short and sharp, more of a bark than a laugh. ‘People! Well that is rich. We felt we were far above people. We had to keep refining, you see. We couldn’t leave well enough alone. The goal of our civilization was to evolve the body and the mind. Our medical, astrological and technical abilities progressed. We learned to shed the parts of ourselves we scorned and expand those we valued. But it wasn’t enough to prune and transplant, to tinker with ourselves. Everything within our reach had to be modified. All species had to be brought together as a super speci
es. Even the elements had to be harnessed, contained, and then absorbed. To put it into your terms, we became man, animal, vegetable, air, water, fire and earth – all in one.’

  James was fascinated. Here was science, set free by a superior race. The questions spilled out of him. ‘Which were you able to do first? How did you do it? How did you survive without the interdependence of other species? If the elements were within you, what was outside you?’

  Katie cut across James. ‘We’ve done a couple of these things in my own time, not in such a big way, but it’s where we’re going. So why did it go wrong for you? What was the problem?’

  ‘Ah Katie, you have a great ability to come to the point,’ DuQuelle smiled. ‘It all went very wrong. Each time we implanted and grafted, absorbed and spliced, we gained some gift, but we lost something too. We didn’t know it, but each addition was diluting the essential thing that made us different from everything else.’

  ‘Your soul?’ Alice questioned.

  ‘Your feelings?’ Katie guessed.

  ‘No it has to be reasoning,’ James said.

  DuQuelle shrugged. ‘Call it what you will. Once it was gone, we had no name for it.’ Again he stopped, looking through them, into the past, trying to find an explanation. Katie remembered the first time she had seen DuQuelle, in the New York City subway entrance. He had spoken to her, silently. The word had been ‘SEEK’. He had sought, and found Katie, but still his search went on, for the words and for the answers.

  Shaking off the past, DuQuelle tried to smile again. ‘We finally overstepped ourselves when it came to the body. It had become cumbersome, ill-adapted and very unhygienic. Why would we need a body when we had everything else? So we gradually shed it. Many of its functions were transferred to highly developed systems. Amongst these transferred functions was our ability to communicate. To put it mildly, this was a mistake.’

  James was nodding his head vigorously, trying to take it all in. ‘Systems? Are you talking about machines? Did they talk for you? Were they all one kind, or were there many different machines to control the different functions performed by the body? Who manned the machines? If none of you had bodies, who kept them working?’

 

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