Curiouser and Curiouser: Steampunk Alice in Wonderland (Steampunk Fairy Tales)

by Melanie Karsak

  “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?”

  “I…it’s complicated.”

  “I’m reasonably intelligent. Try me.”

  “Alice,” he said, but he said no more. I realized that no answer was coming.

  I pulled away. “You see. This is why. This is why I won’t come back. Nothing but darkness surrounds this life.” I turned and looked at him. “Get dressed,” I said then turned and headed toward the door.

  “Where are you…are you leav—”

  “Of course not. Dark deals or no, I’m not going to leave you to hang for whatever it is you’ve done. I’m going downstairs to see if Maggie will cook me some breakfast,” I said then slammed the door behind me.

  Too close.

  Too close that time.

  Too close to saying yes.

  Chapter 10: Inside a Raindrop

  “If you say it again, I’ll stab you,” I said as I struggled to adjust the formal gown. The bulging bustle of fabric on my backside made my lower back itch, and my corset was too tight. A proper lady’s gown indeed, but I wondered how anyone who dressed in proper fashion got anything done. I touched the brim of my tiny top hat. It, along with my parasol, were the only pieces of the outfit I actually liked. Of course, the parasol had a feature that allowed me to slip the White Queen into the shaft to serve as a handle. Leave it to the Countess to think of that.

  “All I said was that you look lovely. I hardly think that’s a stabbing offense.”

  “Shows what you know,” I replied as I eyed him sidelong. He had changed into a fine suit and wore a black top hat. I both hated and loved being there with him. My conflicting emotions made me cranky.

  “Tickets,” said a man standing just outside the door of the Crystal Palace.

  “Good morning,” William said politely and handed the man our tickets.

  The man stamped the date on the tickets then handed them back. Nodding, he motioned for us to enter.

  Taking me gently by the arm, as a gentleman ought to do, William escorted me inside.

  While the Crystal Palace’s ornate structure, made of glass and iron, towering several stories high was a sight to behold from the outside, nothing quite prepared me for the marvels inside.

  As we entered, a cacophony of sounds reached our ears. The sweet melodies coming from a stand of self-playing harps, the screech of monkeys, the hum of machines, and the sounds of hundreds of voices rolled to our ears all at once.

  The structure had been built around the tall ash trees that had stood in the park. They still stood standing tall in the middle of the structure. Fountains lined the center promenade. The crowd gasped and stepped back as a group from Africa passed on their way toward their display, lions on leashes walking in front of them. Not far behind them, a man wearing a straw hat jogged past pulling a rickshaw, two laughing—and elegantly dressed—ladies inside.

  I gasped as a man flew overhead on wings made of lightweight material. To my great surprise, he flapped his wings, the metal of the clockwork bones and joints revealed when the sun overhead struck him just right.

  William chuckled. “Shall we take it all in?”

  Barely able to breathe, I nodded.

  “Now, there is my Alice,” he said softly. “Her curious eyes open wide.”

  I smiled. “It’s a wonderland.”

  In that moment, I could hardly feel angry at him. He had tricked me to bring me back into his circle and was being completely obtuse on why he was in this predicament in the first place, but I loved being there with him.

  “Ladies and gentleman, ladies and gentleman, come see these wonderful clockwork delights,” a gentleman called from the German exhibit. He was standing in front of a curtain.

  William and I stopped to look.

  “How many of you have ever loved a dear pet and lost one? A dog, madame? Perhaps a scrappy little alley cat, sir? What if you could own a pet that never died? What if you could own a pet that would always be there for you, save time when it came for a patch or two? Behold,” the man called, and pulled the curtain away, revealing an odd little zoo. Inside a display of cases were all manner of creatures, and all of them made of metal.

  The crowd gasped.

  “The clockwork menagerie,” the man said. “Fine German craftsmanship. Each creature made to order by our tinkers,” he said then pulled a clockwork cat—a fine looking machine made of striped metal to make the animal appear as if he were a tabby cat—from the display. He set the cat on a show platform.

  “The cat has been designed with optics to navigate your home and behave just like a living creature. Simply press this lever to activate your feline,” the man said, pressing the lever. The cat’s eyes opened wide. They were the color of aquamarine gems. It stood and twitched its mechanical tail, then sat again once again and began licking a metal paw with an equally metal tongue.

  “Does it meow?” a child called, her mother and father looking on.

  “Only if you like,” the man said. “Just wind the small crank here, and your kitten will cry for his…oil!”

  Everyone laughed.

  The man worked the crank and a moment later, the clockwork cat let out a loud meow. He picked the creature up, holding it just like a cat, and walked in front of the crowd so everyone could see and touch it.

  “It even purrs. Madame, would you be so kind as to give him a scratch behind the ears?” he said to me.

  I looked from the cat to William then back to the cat again.

  Reaching out, I stroked my hand across the metal ear of the cat. A purring sound erupted from the little creature and then, a moment later, the clockwork feline smiled, revealing a row of wide, square teeth.

  I laughed. “He’s smiling like he just had a bowl of Cheshire cream.”

  The crowd gathered around me chuckled.

  We took in the presentation then turned back to the main thoroughfare.

  “Look,” William said, pointing to the massive stone sphinxes that stood at the entrance of the Egyptian exhibit. We headed inside to discover all manner of fine artifacts on display: papyrus scrolls, an ornate sarcophagus, and lapis lazuli jewels.

  In my childhood dreams, I’d imagined myself a treasure hunter. I envisioned myself exploring the pyramids in Egypt, a crumbling map in hand. I envisioned myself outsmarting ancient curses on chests of pirate treasure or unlocking the secrets of the lost Atlantis. But such adventures could only be had in my imagination. In reality, Bess and I had been left to the workhouse after our parents had died of a wasting disease. Jabberwocky had saved us from certain poverty, but at what cost?

  As I walked beside William, taking in the delights, I thought about my path. William was right. It had been my choice to leave. I didn’t want the life. I didn’t want to do the job anymore. But he too had chosen. He’d picked the life over me. Yet I could go back. It wasn’t too late.

  I shook my head. I didn’t dare think about it anymore. After all, this was a job, not a date. I scanned the area around us. There were four guards at the main entrance, two at each of the six side entrances, and one of Victoria’s men in each display in addition to whatever security the international groups had brought with them. I looked the guards over in the Egyptian exhibit. They eyed the visitors, looking for pickpockets. The admission price, however, kept the common street ruffians away. Yet their eyes were keen. No one would get past them alive.

  We left the Egyptian exhibit and carried on with our tour. The Great Exhibition took up two floors with a third, half floor, above. Several windows were cranked open overhead to let the heat out. The tops of the trees inside the building nearly reached the windows.

  “There is a line to see the diamond, but it disperses at lunch time. We’ll go then,” William whispered in my ear.

  “So, d
oes that mean you won’t be buying me lunch? I am, after all, putting my life on the line for you. Doesn’t that earn me at least a ploughman’s platter?”

  William laughed. “Afterward. I promise.”

  Next, we took in the Chinese display, marveling at the lanterns, paintings, and myriad of painted vases. As we passed, I picked up all the pamphlets they had available showing the artwork.

  “For Bess?” William asked.

  “Yes. Several of her customers have remarked on the vases. She wanted to try her hand at them.”

  “Replicas will catch her a fortune. She should come see them herself.”

  “I’m sure she can render the images from these well enough,” I said, looking down at the papers. In truth, the cost of entrance into the exhibit was well beyond what we could afford. On top of that, Bess could not walk to the exhibition. She’d need a carriage, and unless we found someone with one to spare on her behalf, there was no way for her to get there without risking her health.

  William frowned, guessing at what I had left unspoken. In his expression, I saw his frustration. “You’re so stubborn, Alice,” he scolded me then under his breath. “Wouldn’t life with me, back at home at the manor, with some means at your disposal, be a better life for you both?”

  “Here I am, finely dressed and seeing wonders I could never afford on my own, but I’m about to commit a crime against the crown. The trade-off hardly seems worth it.”

  “Alice—”

  “If something happens to me, you will be responsible for taking care of Bess. You remember that.”

  “I promise I will protect you, nothing will—”

  From somewhere in the building, a massive clock chimed, drowning out his words. I sighed with relief. Whatever it was he was planning to say, I didn’t want to hear it.

  I glanced up at a nearby clock. It was the lunch hour.

  “Shall we?” I said, looking in the direction of the British display.

  William nodded and said nothing more.

  We joined the main thoroughfare once more. Each country had beautiful displays tucked into alcoves along each side with other interesting displays along the center of the walkway. There was a colorful display of glassworks in the Austrian exhibit, Turkish textiles and rugs, and models of ships and silks from India. We bypassed the American display where an airship had been docked at the center of the exhibit. A presentation was underway showcasing the use of helium. As well, the display of Colt revolvers was getting a lot of attention. Eventually, we reached the queue for the Koh-i-Noor. The diamond, just as the Countess’s schematics had revealed, was sitting in what looked more or less like a bird cage on a pedestal. I eyed the crowd. There were less than twenty people in line in front of us. Two guards kept watch on the diamond. The gem was sitting on a red pillow.

  “It’s very large, but it doesn’t have any sparkle,” a lady in a fine dress complained to her husband as they walked away from the exhibit.

  “That’s because it’s cursed,” her husband replied.

  My brow furrowed. “The diamond is cursed?” I asked William.

  He nodded. “The diamond is bloody. It was a gift to Victoria from her admirers in India.”

  “So, you mean, we stole it,” I said under my breath.

  He nodded.

  I frowned. How typical. But somehow the notion made me feel a little better. If the diamond had been stolen in the first place, if it didn’t really belong to Her Majesty, then maybe that made all this better. Maybe.

  As we moved forward, I eyed the layout of the space. The diamond had its own alcove off of the main thoroughfare. It was open on two sides. There was nothing else on display in order to accommodate the large crowd.

  One of the guards yawned sleepily and pulled out his pocket watch.

  The wooden podium—which I remembered from the schematic was really a safe—was strong enough to hold the weight of the heavy metal cage. As we drew close, I saw a steel box under the pillow on which the diamond sat. Under that was a levered panel to drop the box, diamond, and pillow inside, into the pedestal.

  “Madame? Sir?” the exhibitioner called, motioning for us to come forward.

  William and I came to stand in front of the diamond. It was large enough to take up the entire palm of my hand, but it was oddly cut. The shape was a strange sort of oval. As the passing lady had said, it didn’t shimmer at all.

  “A bit lackluster,” William said.

  The exhibitor barely batted an eyelash. It was apparent he’d heard the comment a hundred times already.

  I leaned forward to look more closely. Then, pretending to swoon a little, I exclaimed loudly then tripped against the display. I reached out and grabbed the bars as if to steady myself. I threw some of my weight against the display. It didn’t move. The diamond never budged.

  “Madame,” the exhibitor exclaimed, reaching out for me.

  William, pretending to be distracted, waited a moment before he noticed my distress. “My dear,” he called, reaching out for me.

  To my surprise, both guards—who had but a moment ago looked half-asleep—and the exhibitor arrived at once.

  “Oh,” I exclaimed with a gasp. “Oh, gentlemen! Oh my! I’m so very sorry. I suddenly saw black spots before my eyes and swooned.”

  The exhibitor breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing had moved. The diamond had not shuddered a bit.

  “I’m so very sorry,” I said, batting my big blue eyes at them.

  The guards regarded me closely, looked at one another, and with a nod, returned to their posts.

  “Oh, I’m so very sorry,” I said, looking from the exhibitor to the guards. “How terribly embarrassing.”

  “Are you all right, pet? What happened, love?” William asked, fanning my face.

  The exhibitor smiled generously. “It’s a long line. And it’s quite hot in here, isn’t it? No damage was done. Perhaps your wife needs a bit to eat,” the man said to William.

  As he spoke, I scanned around. Several gentlemen, all in similar black suits, had suddenly come very near the display. They exchanged glances with the guards then disappeared, presumably back into the crowd.

  William smiled at the man. “Excellent idea, my friend.”

  “There are many food tents outside. But everyone is raving about Alexis Soyer’s Symposium of All Nations at the Gore House just across the street. Hot meals. Food from all nations,” the exhibitor suggested. “I’ve heard it’s very good. Or you can get a ginger beer, a pickle, and a stale bun down that way,” the man added with a wink.

  William laughed. “Thank you, sir,” he told the man then took my arm. “Come along, my dear.”

  At that, we headed away from the display.

  “Well?” William whispered once we were a safe distance away.

  “The pedestal seemed to be welded to the ground. The bars are solid steel. Nothing shook. Nothing moved. It’s sturdy. It’s a safe, just as the schematic showed.”

  “Guards are lax,” William commented.

  “The ones we saw. There are guards mingling amongst the crowd. But they are all wearing the same black suits. There,” I said, motioning casually toward a display French jewels. “The man carrying the sketchbook. And there,” I said, tilting my chin toward another display of lamps.

  “I see,” William said. “What now?”

  “We need to see what’s done with the diamond at the close of day.”

  “Then let’s have some lunch and return for a second look.”

  “Pickles, bread, and ginger beer?” I asked with a grin.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure what Alice in the red dress would prefer, but my Alice was always ready to drink a ginger beer.”

  Unable to stop myself, I grinned at him. “And what about you?”

  “I want Alice in the red dress to have everything she deserves. Come, let’s try Soyer’s Symposium. We’ll eat Chinese food. I’ve heard they eat with sticks.”

  “Chopsticks.”

  “Chopsticks. Shall
we try?”

  “And ruin my fine red dress?”

  We both laughed then headed outside, away from the vendor tents, and toward the Gore House.

  The sun was shimmering brightly. It was a fine day. I held onto William, soaking in his warmth, remembering the curve of his arm.

  “I missed you,” William said softly. “And you must admit, you missed me too.”

  “Yes. I’ve missed you too.”

  “Alice, won’t you consider—”

  “What does the Queen of Hearts have over you? Why are you doing this?”

  “There was a job. I…I botched it. I owe her.”

  “Too easy an answer. Botched it how?”

  “It’s compli—”

  “Yes, it’s complicated, you’ve mentioned that. William, I’ve known you since you were ten years old. Nothing about you is this complicated, at least, not so complicated that you cannot tell me. Who knows you better than I do?”

  William sighed. “No one. But Alice, I…I just can’t.”

  “Until you tell me the truth, then we are at an impasse.”

  “Alice, I’m trying. You don’t even know how hard I am trying here. I am doing everything—”

  Just then, however, I felt a shadow fall in too close behind us. I pulled the White Queen out of the parasol handle and turned.

  William broke off midsentence.

  Behind me, I found Jack and Rabbit.

  “Alice,” Jack said with a smile, lifting both hands in the air and stopping cold.

  Rabbit, his mop of white hair glimmering in the sunshine, smiled up at me, a mischievous look on his face. It was then I noticed that he was eating a pickle inside a bun. Now, how had he managed that if they were for sale inside the exhibition? He was still wearing the oversized, expensive-looking, waistcoat.

  “What is it?” William asked.

  “You’re needed,” Jack told him.

  “Now?”

  “Yes.”

  “But I was just going to take Alice to—“

  “The crew of the Siren is here. There is some…trouble.”

  William paused. I could see the crush of conflicted feelings wash over him as his expression changed. He needed to go. It was obvious. But I could see that he also realized the timing could not have been worse. “Alice, I—”