Curiouser and Curiouser

by Melanie Karsak

  “Tell Jabberwocky that if he ever comes across any similar products, he always has a buyer.” She smiled, her teeth and mouth stained with blood.

  I took the package, turned, and headed toward the door. I didn’t dare meet Anna’s eyes. I didn’t dare. I couldn’t. I knew what fear and plea for help I would find there. I couldn’t permit myself to see it. I couldn’t leave her there like that, but I had to. It was wrong to leave her there, but I had to. I was leaving her to unimagined torments, but I had to. Because that was what the job required. Because that was what Jabberwocky asked me to do. I pushed the door open and headed down the hallway.

  From the room behind me, I heard the Queen of Hearts’s laughter. “What’s wrong, Bandersnatch? Don’t you want to stay for an aperitif?” she called.

  A moment later, William caught up with me.

  “Did you know?” I whispered.

  “No. I take it you didn’t either.”

  I shook my head.

  “She…she drank Anna’s blood,” William whispered.

  “Sanguinarian. That’s what it’s called. It’s a form of black magic.” I felt like I was going to be sick. “I will never deal with that woman again. We betrayed that poor girl. We were stupid, reckless thugs. God knows what horrors we just left her to.”

  Moving quickly, we headed back out into the light. I was never more grateful to see the sky in all my life. Once we were inside the safety of the carriage once more, William pulled me close to him and kissed the top of my head.

  My whole body was shaking. “I’ll never forgive myself,” I whispered.

  I looked at William. He’d gone pale. “When Jabberwocky is gone, everything will be different. We’ll do business differently.”

  “Be honorable thieves.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Yes. I would never do something like that. Whatever the deal was, it wasn’t worth it. That poor girl…”

  “Honorable thieves,” I whispered, pressing my head against his chest.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see that. I’ll speak to Jabberwocky. Never, ever again,” he whispered, touching my cheek.

  I sighed deeply, feeling the terrible weights of guilt and anger struggling inside me. Lifting a box, picking a lock, or swiping a document was one thing. But trading in blood? Jabberwocky had never asked anything like that of me before, and in that moment, I swore it would be the last time.

  I didn’t know how wrong I was.

  * * *

  Bess closed the door. Sighing, she leaned against it, turning to look at me. “He worries me,” she said.

  I squinted my eyes hard, pushing the memories away. “Just bad luck. He’s fortunate he’s not hurt worse.”

  “You’re right,” Bess said as she went to clear the dishes.

  “Don’t worry about those. I’ll get them,” I told her.

  “Nonsense. You’ve been working all day. Dinah, how about some scraps?” she called. I heard her scraping out our bowls.

  I took a deep breath and brushed the tears from my cheeks. I got up. Wordlessly, I took the bowls from Bess’s hands and put them in the washbasin. She turned and finished clearing off the table. Taking a cloth, I worked the dirty bowls with the soap, its sharp lemon scent nearly gagging me.

  “Lord Dodgson’s niece and her family will be coming in from the country to celebrate her birthday. I’m afraid I’ll have some very odd hours in the coming days. Please don’t worry yourself. If I’m out late and you get scared, promise me you’ll ask Henry to stay here with you.”

  “Alice, you know I can’t do that. It’s indecent.”

  With my back turned to her, Bess didn’t see me roll my eyes. “I don’t know why the two of you don’t just go ahead and get married.”

  When Bess didn’t reply, I turned around and looked at her. To my astonishment, a tear was trailing down her check.

  “Bessy?”

  “You’re right,” she said sadly. “He always tells me he’s trying to save up some money first. Do you think…Alice, do you think he doesn’t ask because he knows I’m very ill? Do you think he doesn’t ask because he thinks I’m just going to die anyway?”

  “Bess!”

  “I’m serious.”

  I set the bowl down and turned and embraced my sister. “No. That’s not the case. Henry loves you. He loves you more than anything. He would do anything for you.”

  “Except marry me.”

  “He will. He wants to do what’s best for you.”

  She smiled half-heartedly. “It’s not like I need a fancy wedding. I just want him…and maybe a little holiday.”

  “A trip to Bath to take in the waters? They have good doctors there. I’m sure someone could give us a suggestion for you, Bessy. Between me and Henry, I’m sure we could raise the money.”

  “Perhaps if I paint some Chinese vases.”

  “There you go. Let’s make a plan. We’ll start saving now. By next winter, we’ll have you and Henry married, and we’ll all go to Bath to take in the waters.”

  This time, Bess smiled for real. “I love that idea.”

  “Then we’ll inform Henry of the plan tomorrow.”

  “Inform Henry? That he has to marry me?” Bess asked with a laugh.

  I smiled. “Indeed, and at your wedding, you will wear the best hat London has ever seen.”

  Bess laughed. “Alice, you’re mad indeed.”

  “I certainly hope so. All the best people are.”

  Chapter 9: Pierced Red Things

  I left early the next morning while Bess still slept, taking with me the blueprints and the dress box the Countess had given me. Stepping out onto the streets of London, I spotted a lamplighter passing through snubbing out the last of the flames as the sun began to break over the horizon. The cobblestone streets were clouded with fog. The haze made everything thick and blue.

  I slipped down one side street after another, my hand clenched around the White Queen, as I finally made my way to Caterpillar’s house. At least, it was his house now. As I stared up at the third-floor window, my mind rushed back in time. How long had it been since I’d first set eyes on the place?

  * * *

  Bess and I were nine and ten when we found ourselves standing before Jabberwocky’s massive home for the first time.

  “Is this the place? This big house?” Bess whispered in my ear, her hand gripping mine tightly.

  “This is the address,” I said, looking down at a scrap of paper in my hand.

  Mustering up my nerve, I went to the door and knocked. I remembered the sound of it, how it seemed like my knock had echoed through an empty space. A few moments later, a man in a dark suit answered the door.

  “Yes?”

  “Mister Northman told us to come to this address,” I said, handing the paper to him.

  “Mister Northman?”

  “Yes. A man asked Mister Northman to send us here.”

  The doorman nodded. “Very well. Come in,” he said. I held Bess’s chilly and damp hand. We stepped inside the cavernous place. The foyer of the house was dark save a few candles that had been lit in the circular chandelier that hung overhead. The place seemed like it had been washed in gray. Everything felt muted, lifeless. “Wait here,” the man said. Taking a candelabra with him, he headed upstairs.

  “Alice, we should run away from this place. This is a bad place,” Bess had whispered.

  “Run where? Back to the workhouse?”

  Bess shifted nervously. I stiffened my nerve as we waited. We stood still, like we were frozen in place, as we waited. We stood there so long that my feet grew sore. At last, Mister Mock, whom we would later come to know as Jabberwocky, appeared on the steps.

  “Well, if it isn’t the little sisters. Alice and…what was it again?”

  “Bess, Your Grace,” my sister said with a curtsey.

  The man laughed. “Alice and Bess. Very good. Most people call me Jabberwocky,” he said.

  “That�
��s a very odd name,” I said before I could stop the words from tumbling out of my mouth. I slapped my hands on my lips but it was too late.

  He laughed then bent down to look at us. “Yes, it is,” he replied generously. Even then his hair was already turning silver, but it still held a blonde hue. His face was not unkind, but it had a hawkish look. His skin was mottled with liver spots and deep lines ran across his forehead. “Now, do you know why you’re here?” he asked. “What did Mister Northman tell you?”

  “Nothing,” I replied, lowering my hands, “except that our contract was bought out by the tall man who’d come through the factory the week before.”

  “The tall man,” he said with a laugh. “Do you remember seeing me?”

  We both shook our heads.

  “I saw you,” he said, pointing to me, “unsticking that gear before the machine crushed your friend’s hand.”

  I thought back. The week before, Davin had nearly lost his fingers when a machine malfunctioned. I’d seen the loose part amongst the working gears and had knocked it into place before the wheel could take his fingers.

  I smiled abashedly.

  “No bragging? I like that. I asked Mister Northman about you. He told me that you have a gentle sister. Turns out that I had a job for a pair of girls just like you, and Mister Northman owed me a favor, so here we are. Miss Alice,” he said, eyeing me skeptically. “I want to give you a test.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He grinned. “Come with me,” he said, motioning for us to follow him. He led us through the hallways to the back of the house. Each hallway, each door, seemed to lead to another. Every room seemed to be painted in the same odd blue-gray color. The place felt like a tomb.

  A moment later, however, he pushed open a door to reveal a small garden at the back of the house.

  “Oh, how lovely,” Bess exclaimed.

  “Isn’t it? And my apple tree is just as full as can be. Do you like apples, girls?”

  We both nodded.

  “Very well. Let’s see if Alice can win you one,” he said. From inside his belt, he pulled out a dagger. He handed the blade to me. “Not five minutes after you saved your friend, I saw you peg a rat with a rock from three meters away. You have very quick hands, Alice, and Mister Northman tells me you also have a quick mind. Now, how can you do with apples? Do you think you can hit that one all the way at the top of the tree?

  “Yes, sir. Apples are much easier. They wriggle less than rats.”

  Mister Mock laughed. “Let’s see then.”

  I took a step forward and aimed. I knew that no matter what, my mark had to be perfect. My future, I felt, depended on it.

  I lobbed the dagger.

  There was a crunch, and a bright red apple fell from the tree, skewered by the dagger.

  “Well done,” Mister Mock said, clapping his hands together.

  He retrieved the apple and his dagger. He cut the apple in half and gave half to me and half to Bess.

  “Very good,” he said, wiping the blade clean. “You’ll need a bit of training up, and you and your sister will have to stay here—can’t have you living with the boys—but I think those big blue eyes and quick little fingers will serve me well. Do you understand me, Alice? Do you know what job I have for you?”

  I looked at him. Bess, who was chewing her apple happily, suddenly stopped and stared at Mister Mock.

  “I do, but my sister cannot do such work.”

  He smiled at Bess then reached out and gently patted her head. “Look there,” he said, pointing to an upstairs window.

  To my surprise, there was an elderly woman sitting at the window. She was rail thin and looked to be a hundred years old, but she smiled kindly and waved to us. “My mother is very old and needs a companion, Miss Bess. She’s quite ill. She hardly knows her own name and doesn’t recognize anyone from one day to the next. I need someone with a giving heart to look after her. Mister Northman said you can read?”

  She nodded. “Oh, yes. And I’m very patient.”

  Mister Mock nodded. “No doubt you are. My dear mother used to love to paint. Perhaps you can tempt her to it again. So, girls, what do you say? Do you suppose we could make a deal?”

  “Shall we try it?” Bess whispered to me.

  I looked back at Mister Mock. I was only ten, but I knew what life he was offering me. I’d work the streets, picking pockets and lifting goods. It wasn’t honest work—it wasn’t even safe work—but it would mean a comfortable life for Bess. My sister had nearly died the winter before in the cold bunkhouse. She was too gentle to wrangle machines and chase rats out of her food bowl. If we had stayed with Mister Northman, my sister might have died. Our parents were dead. I hardly even remembered them anymore. We had no one else. I didn’t want to be a pickpocket, but for Bess, I could do anything. We’d have a room in a fine house, my sister reading books to an old woman, sitting beside the fireplace all winter long. There wasn’t anything in the world I wouldn’t do to win that kind of life for my sister.

  “Bess will work in the house. Always. You promise?” I asked Mister Mock.

  He smiled. “Yes.”

  “Then we agree.”

  “Very good. Come along then. Let’s get you settled.”

  I looked up at Madame Mock. She smiled nicely once more. Bess waved happily to her. I hoped beyond all reason that things would work out and that the price would not be too great.

  * * *

  I stared up at the window of the third-floor bedroom. Knocking on the front door felt entirely too obvious. I turned and headed down the nearby alley until I reached the back garden wall. Securing the blueprints on the strap across my back, I tossed the dress box over, then gripping the stones, I pulled myself up.

  I dropped into the garden of Jabberwocky’s—formerly my own—house. Everything was as it had been. Setting the box against the trunk of the old apple tree, I grabbed a branch and climbed up. The limbs stretched to the ledge. Moving carefully, I slipped off the branch and onto a ledge along the building. I eyed the decorative flagstones jutting from the side of the house. Getting a tight grip, I scaled the wall to the third-floor ledge. I shimmied to the window. I peered inside to find William still asleep. Balancing carefully, I pulled my knife then slipped it along the window frame, maneuvering open the lock. Moving carefully, I pushed the window open and slid inside.

  William sighed and rolled over but didn’t wake.

  A small fire burned in the fireplace of Mister Mock’s old bedroom. The room was warm and comfortable. William had changed the furnishings and linens, leaving the sense of the familiar and the new all at once. The room was sparse save his desk. Moving quietly, I sat down at the desk and began looking through the papers. He was corresponding with an airship pirate, moving opium from the Orient into London. He’d had some dealings with an apothecary in Cheapside leaving an itemized bill behind. The desk was littered with the expected items and a lot of literature on the Crystal Palace. The only piece of information that did catch my eye was a dispatch from a merchant in Virginia talking about inventory that was scheduled to be delivered via the airship Siren on April twentieth, two weeks earlier. Something about the way it was written, the vagueness of description, felt suspect. I looked through the rest of the papers but there was nothing of importance.

  Rising slowly, I moved silently to the bedside and looked down at William.

  How sweet he looked as he slept. His lashes were so long, but they’d always been like that. I remembered those lashes on the little boy version of him, the little boy who’d fallen instantly in love with me.

  I stared at his lips, remembering the feel of them against mine.

  Pain rocked my heart.

  Had he really left me for nothing more than this life? This house? This wealth? Was I so easily cast aside?

  But guilt nagged at me. In reality, who had done the casting? Wasn’t I just as much to blame?

  I sat down on the side of the bed, not bothering to be gentle, then stroked the lock
of hair that fell just over his ear back into place.

  “Your security is terrible. I could have murdered you five times by now,” I said gently.

  He startled awake, gasping as he opened his eyes.

  “Alice?” he whispered. Without thinking, he reached out and took my hand. The sweetness of it, the look of warmth in his eyes, caught me off guard. “Alice.”

  It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. I’d expected he’d brandish the dagger under his pillow to prove me wrong, or make some smart comment, or get up and move away angrily. Instead, the look on his face was much different.

  “I…I let myself in. Through the window,” I said.

  He didn’t even crack a smile. “I dreamt, you know, of waking up to your face in this house, in this room. I dreamt of waking up to your touch. Alice,” he said. He lifted his hand and touched my cheek, his fingers trailing gently down to touch my lips.

  “Yes, well, we’re at an impasse on that, aren’t we,” I said, rising. I had to get away from him or I was most certainly going to kiss him.

  “Please, let’s talk about it,” William said, sitting up.

  “What’s there to talk about?”

  “It’s not too late for you to change your mind. You wouldn’t have to come back into the life. You and Bess can move back here. This is your home. I hate that you’re living in that hovel above the dress shop. I hate that Bess is too poor to marry that hatter. It’s not too late, Alice. We can just do it over again.”

  I went to the fireplace. Was he right? Could I come back? Could we do it over again? How many times had I regretted my decision? How many times had I felt the pang in my heart that I, not William, was at fault?

  William rose and joined me, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “Alice. Please. You know I never stopped loving you. And you never stopped loving me. Come home to me.”

  “Why are you doing this job for the Queen of Hearts?”

  “What?”

  “The job. The job that has a very high probability of getting one or both of us shot or put in the stocks. Why? Why did you take the deal? What went wrong between you and her?”