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

by Melanie Karsak

  “The Queen of Hearts…there is no other way.”

  “I could talk to her, try to work out a deal.”

  “No,” William said, shaking his head. “She’s a sick woman. Don’t go near her. I made a mistake. I didn’t mean to, but it’s done. Don’t get any ideas in your mind, Alice. Stay away from her.”

  I frowned. “All right.”

  In the distance, the clock on Tinker’s Tower sounded. It was already eleven o’clock.

  “I need to go. I’ve already given Bess too much to worry about this week.”

  “I’ll have the key by dusk tomorrow.”

  We both rose. It was a moonless night. Only the lights from the exhibition cast their shadowed glow on us.

  “We can do this,” William whispered. “Hell, if anything goes wrong, we’ll just shoot our way out. It’s a building made of glass, after all.”

  I laughed. “We can do this. It’s just a snatch and run. Nothing new.”

  William chuckled then tapped me lightly on my nose. “Bandit.”

  I winked at him.

  He leaned in and kissed me softly, first on the lips and then on the cheek. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight,” I whispered, setting my hand on his cheek. I turned and headed back toward the city. The plan would work. It wasn’t without risk, of course, but no job ever was. It may have been awhile since I’d stolen anything, but the job was part of me—for better or worse. Jabberwocky had trained his little apprentice very well.

  But still, we were robbing our rightful Queen to pass over a treasure to a madwoman. Why? It was high time I found out.

  Chapter 17: What the Knave Knew

  The hustle would still be the same. The Knave would begin making the rounds at around ten, stopping by all the opium dens and pubs, playing a few hands of cards to line his own pockets before collecting William’s cut. He’d finish his rounds by one o’clock then head home. He’d keep the money with him then drop it off at The Mushroom in the morning.

  I left the lawn of the Crystal Palace and moved down the foggy cobblestone streets, seeking to stay unseen. I had no business skulking around in the dark. My life wasn’t supposed to be like this anymore. I’d spent most of the last year pretending I didn’t love William, but it was a lie. More than anything, I wanted to be with him. I just didn’t want this…this mess, this blood. I would do anything to help William earn his freedom. Because the truth was, I’d taken mine without regard to how it would impact him. And I was sorry for it. But saving William meant I needed to know what I was saving him from. I’d ended last night harassing airship pirates. Tonight I was stalking thugs.

  The Knave’s flat on Fleet Street was about as well-protected as a henhouse in a fox farm. With a quick twist and jiggle, I unlocked the door and let myself inside. Locking the door behind me, I headed into his sparse kitchen. I dug through his cupboard until I found some tea then set a kettle to boil. Working with the light of a single candle in the kitchen, I set out two teacups and some strawberry pastries I’d found in a bakery box and then waited. It was around one thirty when I heard the lock jiggle. I sat still and waited, listening to the sound of his footfalls.

  Seeing the candlelight burning, I heard Jack’s footsteps stop. A moment later, I heard the click of a revolver. Pistol extended, he turned the corner.

  “Tea?” I asked.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I nearly shot you, Alice.”

  I rose and poured us both a cup of tea.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “Why?”

  “Just thought we’d have a little chat.”

  Jack dropped into the chair then looked over the table. “I was saving those tarts for breakfast.”

  “Well, it is morning,” I said.

  He shook his head then laughed.

  “Sugar?”

  “No. I’m tired, Alice. What is it?”

  “Why is William indebted to the Queen of Hearts?”

  “He botched a deal.”

  “I know that. What I don’t know is why?” I rose and prepared the teacups, setting a cup in front of Jack.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  Jack picked up his teacup, blew across the hot liquid, then took a sip. “If he doesn’t want you to know, there must be a reason.”

  “Perhaps. But it can’t be a very good one. Jack, please. We’ve been friends since we were children. William is in trouble. I want to help him. I just need to know what happened.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “It matters.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  “Would I be here if I didn’t?”

  Jack laughed. “You and William are like the sun and the moon, chasing and following one another in an endless loop. He still loves you as much as he did the day you left. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t love him.”

  “Indeed. So stop prattling.”

  Jack slid a plate with one of the pastries on it toward him. He lifted his fork and took a bite. “The Queen of Hearts wanted some unusual merchandise,” he said between bites. “William procured it for her. Now, mind you, he didn’t know what he was procuring. William was the go-between. We passed letters, made the arrangements, traded money. But when the merchandise arrived in London. Well, William couldn’t go through with it. And I didn’t blame him.”

  “Why? What was the product?”

  Jack wouldn’t meet my eye.

  “You’re avoiding my question. What was the merchandise?”

  Jack exhaled deeply. “Girls.”

  “Girls?”

  “Young girls. They were just kids. I don’t know where they came from. The captain of the Medusa brought them in,” Jack said then shook his head. “I saw them myself. It was…it was awful. William took one look at those girls and everything was over. I don’t know where those girls went. William called in a favor with an airship jockey Jabberwocky used to work with. Lady captain. Pilots the Aphrodite. She took those girls out of London. I don’t know where they went, but I do know they didn’t go to the Queen of Hearts. That was the deal that went bad. That’s why he’s on the hook with the Queen.”

  I didn’t understand. Certainly, the Queen’s perversions were growing even sicker, but there was something more at play here. I rose and set my hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Jack shook his head. “This is bloody business. She’s going to have his head if he doesn’t come up with either those girls or that diamond.”

  “Do you know why?”

  Jack shook his head. “No. But the Countess is somehow involved. I blame Jabberwocky. William was trying to clean up the last of his obligations.”

  I frowned. Now, why would the Countess be involved? But then I remembered the night I’d seen the Queen of Hearts in her wretched bath. The Countess had been there. Had I been wrong to trust her? She and Jabberwocky had been lovers. I knew her ever since I was a child. She’d always treated Bess and me in the most loving of ways. Something was just wrong here. “Then it’s time to end it. For all our sakes.”

  Jack nodded. “Thanks for the tea,” he said, lifting his cup. “Not a bad thing having a woman waiting at home for you. You know—” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  I smirked and shook my head. I headed to the door. “Good night, Jack.”

  “’Night, Alice,” he said with a smile.

  I closed the door to Jack’s flat then headed outside. Before I exited back onto the street, I stopped and leaned against the wall. I squinted my eyes shut. Flashes of the Queen in all her bloody glory appeared before my eyes. Young girls? Why had she wanted young girls? Many dark answers came to mind. I was proud of William that he had done what was right, but at what cost to him?

  Even if we did get the diamond, then what?

  The Queen of Hearts, in all her madness, would carry on. Shouldn’t she be stopped? If she was seeking young girls,
with sanguine or other reasons in mind, then someone should intervene—permanently.

  I could snatch the diamond. That had never been a concern. But maybe that wasn’t the best solution. Maybe there was another way out of this.

  I could kill the Queen of Hearts.

  Chapter 18: Sisters and Misters

  I entered the flat quietly so as not to wake Bess. I was surprised to see her sitting at our small kitchen table. She was painting a teacup by the light of a single candle.

  She didn’t say a word when I entered, just smiled at me then set down the cup she’d been painting. She rose and went to the fireplace from which she retrieved a bowl that had been sitting by the fire. She uncovered it, revealing the steaming hot stew inside then set it on the table. She laid out a spoon then poured me an ale. She motioned for me to sit.

  “How was it? The Crystal Palace?” I asked carefully.

  She smiled serenely then turned the teacup so I could see what she had been painting. “Look,” she said, motioning to her drying rack where a dozen other small vases, cups, and plates were sitting. They had been painted with brilliant blue and white flowers, just like the Chinese vases. “I’ve been painting since we returned. I couldn’t get the images out of my mind.”

  “The visit wasn’t too taxing?”

  “Oh no. Not at all. Henry took great care to make sure I rested frequently. It was truly a wonderland. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine such a place. I loved the hand-painted silks from Japan. Did you see them?”

  I shook my head then sipped the ale.

  Bess sighed happily as she looked over her handiwork. “They’re turning out nicely, I think.”

  “Truly lovely. Bess, I’m sorry if you—”

  I began but Bess raised her hand to stop me. “Henry…he told me everything. He told me about the trouble he got himself into and how you got him out of it.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Then why do you look so happy?”

  She laughed. “The question is, why do you look so happy?” She set her teacup down and dropped her paintbrush into a jar of water. “You haven’t been happy since the day we left. We are free, and our life has been honest, but at what cost? These last three days, I’ve seen a light inside of you that I haven’t seen in a very long time. And it’s not the job. You’ve finally remembered.”

  “Remembered what?”

  “That you love William.”

  “I…I thought I was over him.”

  Bess laughed. “You don’t just get over the love of your life.”

  “He’s trying to get out. He has one last problem to solve, and then we can make a new future, all of us,” I told her. My words came out sounding more like an excuse than I meant them too.

  Bess shrugged lightly. “Whatever needs to be done, that’s what will be done,” she said then picked up her brush once more.

  A moment later, I felt something rub against my shin. I looked down expecting to find Dinah, but it was the clockwork cat looking up at me expectantly.

  “Designed to beg for scraps, are you? No nuts, bolts, or oil here, I’m afraid,” I said, patting my Cheshire cat on his metal head.

  The cat meowed then crossed the room. It jumped up onto my small cot, turning until it found a comfortable position, then lay down. It looked out at me with its wide aquamarine-colored eyes then smiled.

  Bess laughed. “How’s the stew? I tried to keep it warm for you.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “You know, I’ve missed William,” she said. “Tell him I want him to come by. I want to thank him for the tickets.”

  I smiled at her. “I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

  Bess raised an eyebrow at me. “Tomorrow? Very good. I hope it all goes as you wish.”

  I smiled but didn’t reply.

  That made two of us.

  Chapter 19: A Raven and a Writing Desk

  The next morning, I rose early and got dressed while Bess slept. She coughed a few times in her sleep. Her breaths carried a sharp wheeze I didn’t like. I lifted the amber bottle of syrup on the counter to discover there was barely a dose left. I would need to go to the apothecary before I did anything else.

  I slipped on a pair of tan trousers, a dark blue shirt, and a leather corset. I slid the White Queen into my boot, pulled on my coat, then headed outside.

  The morning air was crisp. A steam-powered machine rolled down the cobblestone street, causing everyone to move aside. A massive cloud billowed around it.

  The apothecary’s shop was at the end of the lane. Through the window, I could see Mister Arnold was already hard at work. I pushed the door open to the little shop. A tiny bell overhead jangled. The tangy scents of the medicines assailed my nose. The walls of the apothecary were lined with glass jars filled with a variety of herbs. White porcelain containers held powders and other oddities.

  “Good morning, Alice,” Mister Arnold said. He was a slight man, the majority of his weight coming from the mass of curly white ringlets on his head. He was staring down at the table in front of him. The optics he wore magnified his vision. His eyes looked ten times their size.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked.

  “A dried extract of lemon. It’s proving useful in the treatment of scurvy,” he said then pulled off the optics. “How is Bess?”

  “Cough is still rattling. She needs more syrup.”

  Mister Arnold nodded then went to his cupboards. “I have something new I want your sister to try. It’s a salve. I met a very bright apothecary from Scotland a few weeks back. He told me it’s effective for patients like your sister. She should rub the salve on her chest at night. It should ease her breathing.”

  I opened my coin purse and looked inside. An impromptu airship ride to Twickenham had pushed my weekly budget to its limit. When I looked inside, I saw that if Bess and I wanted to eat this week, an additional purchase of medicine was out of the question. “I’m afraid it will have to wait until my next payment.”

  Mister Arnold nodded sympathetically. “Let’s do this. We’ll just try it this week, an experiment on my part, and if her condition improves, we’ll work out a payment schedule.”

  Mister Arnold had always been very kind to Bess and me. There was something about Bess’ nature that always brought out the best in people. Even when we’d lived in the workhouse, Bess’s sweetness had earned her the affection of Mister Townsend who didn’t push her as hard as the others given her fragile condition. That sweetness lingered wherever my sister went.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Just let me know how it works. This time of year is terrible for people with hay fever and a rattle like your sister has.”

  “I will. Thank you so much.”

  Mister Arnold slipped the syrup and a small jar of salve into a bag. He jotted down some instructions on a piece of paper and added that as well. He handed the bag to me. “Not in uniform today?”

  “No, my employer went to the countryside. I have the rest of the week off.”

  “Get some rest then, my dear. You look tired. I believe you work too hard, Miss Lewis.”

  “We all do what we must. Thank you again,” I said, motioning to the bag, then headed outside.

  Bag in hand, I headed down the street in the direction of Henry’s millinery shop.

  Despite the blessings bestowed upon us through the kindness of others, at times I hated how poor Bess and I had become. Of course, we’d been born into a poor life. Even when our parents were alive, our life had been that of paupers. I remembered very little now. The four of us had lived above a perfumer’s shop in South Hampton. I remembered watching the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen filing in and out of the boutique, purchasing single bottles that cost more than, I would guess, what my parents made in a month. When a fierce winter sickness had passed through one year when I was about seven, Bess six, both our parents had perished. Bess was left with a rattle that never left her chest. Only I had escaped the ailment unscathed. With no better recourse availab
le to two orphans, we’d ended up at Mister Townsend’s workhouse. But fate had seen a different course for us. We were there barely two years before chance threw Mister Mock—Jabberwocky—into our path.

  As I walked toward Henry’s shop, I realized that, in truth, my current poverty was entirely my own fault. I did have a life of comfort. Under Jabberwocky’s care, Bess and I had lived well. But we’d left that life of our own accord. My reasons for leaving were good. I was no killer. I could not live with the blood on my hands, and I never wanted to risk it again. But had I really needed to leave? Did I really have to banish Bess and me to a poor but honest life? I was unsure. I’d tried not to think about how it all had ended. But now, with William in my life once more, everything I had given up smacked me in the face. I had given up more than just a life of crime. Bess was right. I had given up my true love. The memory of our last day at Jabberwocky’s house, and my fight with William, was still fresh in my memory.

  * * *

  “Alice,” William said once more, “please reconsider.” He was standing in the doorway of my room in Jabberwocky’s house as I packed up the last of my clothes.

  Everything had unfolded so quickly. William had stepped into Jabberwocky’s place without any obstacles. Once it was clear to the others I would not take over, it was only natural that William would do the job. Jabberwocky was dead. My hands were still stained with blood that only I could see. Every time I closed my eyes, the image of the banker’s face, mouth open wide, eyes bulging, came to mind. When I paired such images with the Queen of Hearts’s bloody bath, the endless array of naked tarts I had to look at every time I entered The Mushroom, the airship pirates and crooked dealers, I just didn’t want it. Just because a grown man had taught a little girl to steal, and because she’d been good at it, didn’t mean it was a life for which she’d been destined.

  “Why don’t you reconsider,” I replied. “Leave with us. Let Jack or someone else do the job. We don’t have to live like this.”