The Reunion

by Michelle E Lowe

  “Follow me,” Archie urged, heading toward the rear of the prison.

  Pierce tugged on his arm before darting off in the other direction. “No, wait.”

  “Where are you going?” Archie called. “It’s quicker this way.”

  “Let’s give these bastards some trouble of our own, eh?” Pierce said over his shoulder. “Give me those.”

  Archie let Pierce take the key as they approached the gate.

  “You have a gun?”

  “Aye,” Archie answered as Pierce tried one key after the other. “It’s this one,” Archie pointed out.

  Once the key turned, Pierce pushed on the gate. Archie pulled his gun and went through first. The turnkey was no longer there. Pierce reckoned he must have left his post to see about the racket. Sparks from the lightshow outside flashed through each prison window. The inmates chattered loudly, trying to be heard over the loud, booming sounds.

  “What’s in your head, Landcross? Are you planning to free all the prisoners? There isn’t time.”

  “We don’t need to unlatch the cells individually,” Pierce explained, pointing to the metal lever sticking out sideways from a brass box bolted into the wall. “Notice something else the turnkeys were guarding?”

  Archie’s confused face told him he had no clue.

  “Whatever you’re planning, do it and let’s be away,” he urged nervously.

  Pierce wrapped both hands around the handle and with some difficulty, lifted it up. Each cell gate clicked and slowly began to swing wide open. It took the prisoners a couple of ticks to realize what was happening. Eventually, a few cautiously stepped out into the corridor.

  “What are you doing?” the turnkey exclaimed from the doorway.

  “Run!” Pierce yelled, dashing off through the cellblock.

  “Get back here!” the turnkey yelled out after them.

  “Prison break! Prison break!” Pierce shouted as he ran past the cells. “Free yourselves!”

  The instant the shackled captives realized this was their moment for escape, chaos exploded like the fireworks. The turnkey grabbed the lever, aiming to close the cells, but he was quickly overpowered by filthy, half-starved prisoners. At the other end of the cellblock, Pierce jammed the key into the gate lock while Archie lifted the second lever, opening the cell doors below.

  Once through, Pierce and Archie sprinted like mad, screaming to the guards, “Help! Prisoners are escaping!”

  Pierce unlocked each gate and darted out with Archie in tow. Only moments after their dramatic exit, prisoners poured in, quickly overpowering the guards. Pierce kept heading for the exit, passing through a taproom and eventually reaching the warden’s quarters. He slid to a stop and Archie crashed into him. He knew there was no time for a lengthy search, yet, to his good fortune, his Oak Leaf revolver sat on the sheriff’s desk.

  “Brilliant,” he said, beaming cheerfully while seizing his weapon.

  The Keepers’ House was vacant, but it wouldn’t be for long. Pierce and Archie made it to the front door.

  Leaving the way wide open, the pair dashed out onto the street where many prison keepers and the warden were standing about, looking at the fireworks show going on everywhere. Some of them noticed the two, but when the horde of prisoners stampeded out, everyone suddenly had their hands full. Pierce forgot about his horse as he and Archie ran, and they didn’t stop running as they vanished into the alleyway on the other side of the road. They reached Cannon Street and kept going. Pierce’s chest burned, but never did he slow his pace or look back.

  Chapter Eight

  The Reunion

  Pierce’s stomach twisted into a knot as they reached Fan’s opium den. However, his nervousness was also accompanied by excitement. He was on pins and needles to see his folks again.

  He and Archie came up to the door and knocked.

  “Is . . . sh-she . . . here?” Pierce asked between heavy breaths.

  “She . . . wh-who?” Archie wheezed.

  “The lass who . . . who locked me in . . . her bloody cell, th-that’s who,” he retorted, and then tutted at him annoyingly.

  “I would . . . think so. Why?”

  “Splendid, ’cause I . . . I’m gonna kill her.”

  The door opened and there stood the pale giant.

  Rex stared down at them, and after a few ticks, Pierce said irritably, “Oi. Really? I was just here, mate. Remember?”

  The doorman offered no response, only waited.

  Pierce rolled his eyes and recited the password. “Tōngguò yānwù kàndài qǐméng de fāngshì.”

  The ghostly gent grunted, “Follow me.”

  “You can speak Chinese?” Archie asked.

  “Only that,” Pierce admitted.

  At the doorway, he touched the scar on his throat. “Arch, let me have your scarf, eh?”

  Without argument, Archie unwound it from his neck and handed it over.

  They followed the doorman up to Fan’s bedroom, and that’s when Pierce realized the bloke was toying with him about repeating the password. He knew because he had never requested to see Fan. He would have appreciated the bit of humor, if it hadn’t been for all the shite he’d gone through. The giant stopped by the open doorway and allowed them to go on. When they entered the room, Pierce spied his folks enjoying a meal at a small table. They were still in their ragged clothing and appeared thin and frail. Even with Darius’s generosity, their days in captivity hadn’t been kind.

  Despite the way they appeared, his mother jumped out of her chair when she saw him. “Pierce!”

  The entire world dimmed away. Nothing existed except her, and when they wrapped their arms around each other, he feared it was a dream. Out of all the insane things that had happened in his life, this moment seemed the most unlikely.

  “My boy,” she whispered tearfully. “My precious boy.”

  Her grip tightened as if she, too, didn’t believe it. Pierce couldn’t help but shed a few tears.

  His father approached. “Son.”

  Pierce pulled himself away from his mother and looked at his father. Jasper Landcross appeared more or less the same as he had when Pierce was a child. Jasper and Joaquin looked eerily alike. His hair had gone from stark black to grey-black, and there were wrinkles carved in his face. Not as much as his mother, who showed minor signs of aging even after her long imprisonment. Pierce shared more of her features, such as her emerald eyes, high cheekbones, and the multitude of red, brown, and black in her hair. Even their high nose bridge was identical.

  Pierce embraced his father strongly. At last, he was reunited with the family who had cared for him and taught him so many things when the family was whole.

  Pierce gestured toward Archie. “Mum, Dad, this is my mate, Archie Norwich. He helped get me out.”

  His mother placed her hands over her heart with a tearful smile.

  Archie approached them. “It’s good to meet . . .”

  Before he finished speaking, she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Merci! Merci!”

  He returned the embrace. “You’re quite welcome, Mrs. Landcross.”

  Jasper shook his hand. “Thanks for saving our boy, lad.”

  Archie snorted. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time.”

  Pierce scowled at him.

  “Pierce,” his mum said. “I want you to meet someone.”

  The woman!

  He was itching to unleash his rage. He’d saved up the right words during his and Archie’s mad dash through the streets of London.

  Nona pointed toward a window near the wardrobe. “This is Mademoiselle Taisia Kuzentsov.”

  He gritted his teeth and turned.

  Everything Pierce planned to say vanished in the instant he set his sights on her. Bloody hell, poets couldn’t describe her beauty properly. She stood tall and statuesque. Her sienna-colored skin shone like an oil painting in the lamplight. Dark freckles were sprinkled over her cheeks and nose. Her short, golden-brown hair surrounded a perf
ect face that could only belong to an African princess. Her time in prison and the ratty dress she wore did nothing to take away from her loveliness. When she approached, his heart seized up.

  “It is good to meet you, Pierce,” she said in a soft Russian accent. “I have heard much about you over the years.”

  Her eyes! He couldn’t look away from them. Inside those oval-shaped windows into her soul were bright cognac irises. The brightest he’d ever seen! They were warm and inviting like sunshine on a crisp autumn day.

  Realizing he needed to say something in return, Pierce swallowed thickly. “It . . . it’s good to meet you, as well.”

  Archie crossed his arms, seemingly waiting for the wrath of hell to be unleashed.

  “I am so sorry for what happened back at the prison,” she apologized sincerely. “I had no idea who you were.”

  “Pardon?” he said, completely forgetting about the incident.

  She pointed to the spot on his forehead where she had clocked him. “For hitting you and locking you in my cell.”

  It was as if she had drained all manner of memory from him.

  “Oh? Oh, aye. That. Right.” He threw his hands up with a shrug. “Water under the bridge, love.”

  Archie’s mouth dropped. Pierce took her by the hand. She smelled of gunpowder.

  “No worries, eh?” Pierce said.

  He bowed to kiss her hand.

  With a smile that nearly brought him to his knees, she said, “Spasibo.”

  He wished he spoke Russian. He was unable to impress her with even a single word in the language. Instead, he also offered a smile as he rose to his full height. Taisia approached Archie while taking off the coat she wore.

  “Here is your coat. I apologize if it smells. I haven’t been able to bathe in a month.”

  Regardless, Archie was more than happy to remove the turnkey’s dirty frock.

  “Did you hear me when I said, ‘mademoiselle?’” Nona hinted, elbowing Pierce in the side.

  She hadn’t seen her son in years, and already she was trying to play matchmaker.

  Fan entered, still dressed in her dark, baggy disguise. Seeing her like that made it difficult to view her as the woman Fan wanted to be. Yet, her feminine mannerisms didn’t make it impossible.

  “Ah! The plan worked,” she exclaimed happily, clapping her hands once and holding them beside her tilted head like a girl in love.

  “Aye,” Pierce said, placing a hand on his chest and bowing to her humbly. “Cheers, love.”

  “Stop,” she said with a girlish wave. “It was the most fun I’ve had in centuries.”

  Pierce’s love for the old smuggler swelled.

  He turned to his parents. “We ought to clear out of the city before they begin searching for us.”

  “You’re safe here,” Fan reassured them. “Besides, they won’t know to look for you here.”

  She had a point.

  “Sit. Eat. Drink some tea and wine,” Fan insisted, walking over to Pierce. “Your parents have some things to talk to you about.”

  “Like what?”

  “The reason why they’ve come to London, for starters.”

  He craned his neck toward his parents as they resumed their seats at the table. It wasn’t until that moment that he actually wondered why they had returned to London after all these years.

  “Excuse me,” Fan said to the whole room. “I have a business to run downstairs. When you’re done eating, we will get you cleaned up and into new clothes.”

  When she left, Pierce picked up a slice of curry bread from the table.

  “Hungry, Arch?”

  “I’m fine,” he said. To Nona and Jasper, he asked, “Can I ask you something? If you don’t mind?”

  They nodded. Pierce bit into the curry bread and shrugged.

  “How did you get separated?”

  The Landcross family sighed simultaneously.

  “It was truly a horrible day,” Nona began dolefully. “We came to a London festival looking for profit, but the only thing we received was loss.”

  “That we did,” Jasper chimed in. “The constables didn’t take too kindly to the likes of us. They accused everyone of swindling without any proof and ran the whole troupe out of town, threatening us with death or imprisonment.”

  “Jasper and I returned for the boys. We searched for days, but they were gone.”

  “Gone?” Archie asked.

  “Aye,” Pierce elucidated. “Joaquin and I were exploring Abney Park Cemetery while the troupe was being run out. By the time we returned, everyone had gone. A woman was there with the officers and claimed Joaquin and me had stolen from her. The bobbies hauled us away to an orphanage.”

  “An orphanage?” his mother gasped. “Is that what happened to you?”

  “Afraid so, Mum.” He sighed despairingly. “We escaped a few days later and set off to search for you.”

  “By then we had moved on,” his dad confessed miserably. “Things had gone south after that.”

  Pierce arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean, Dad?”

  “Shortly after London, my father suffered a stroke and died.”

  Pierce’s heart sank. “Granddad?”

  “Aye. After his passing, your uncle and aunt went to live in France.”

  “What about their twin daughters, Ester and Patty?”

  “Ester married a Swedish man some time ago and now lives with him,” explained his mum. “Patty has her own family in Ireland.”

  “What about the rest?”

  “We’re all that’s left,” Nona said sorrowfully. “By the time Taisia joined us, everyone else had simply gone their own way.” She paused. “The family was never the same after your grandmother died, anyway. Mother was the true heart of the tribe.”

  “Grandmother Fey?”

  “Oui. Which brings us to why we’re here.”

  Pierce stayed on his feet as he poured himself a glass of wine. “Go on?”

  “Do you remember your Uncle François?” his father asked. “Your mother’s younger brother?”

  Pierce pondered on that a moment. He remembered the journey through the Netherlands where the troupe had passed a man hanging from a tree. Thinking on it, he did recall going to a man’s home whose only interaction with Pierce was yelling at him to stop chasing his chickens around.

  “Aye. He’s the bloke who broke off from the troupe.”

  “Indeed. He founded his own chain of luxury hotels. Hotel Joubert.”

  “Oi, I know that hotel. I actually stayed in one on the Isle of Wight not too long ago.”

  “A month and a half ago, a messenger found us in Newcastle,” Jasper continued. “It is about the only place the Gypsies put down stakes for any length of time during the final months of winter. François must’ve remembered the location when he sent his message.”

  “Joaquin and I looked for you in Newcastle, and we couldn’t find any of you.”

  “You did?” Nona said. “We were always at the usual places.”

  Pierce thought it was strange he and Joaquin had failed to locate an entire group of rovers. He reckoned it was merely bad luck.

  “Go on with the story, Dad,” Pierce urged.

  “The messenger gave your mother a letter from François, explaining to her that he was dying. He told her to go to London to seek a lawyer named Christopher Ainsworth about an inheritance.”

  “Inheritance?” Pierce interrupted with surprise. “I thought he didn’t particularly care about us lot.”

  His mother shook her head. “François never adjusted to the trying life of a nomad. It was all well and good that he built a life of his own, but the fact he cut ties with the family—from me, his own sister—was disheartening. The last I saw of him, he told me how ashamed he was of us.”

  “That was when we brought Grandmother Fey to him, yeah?”

  She nodded. “It was the reason for our journey into the Netherlands. Mother had become so severely ill that she needed proper care. We were fortunate
she had not passed away during the trip. François had everyone—except Mother—stay inside the barn. He was concerned about his new, wealthy friends and the woman he was courting at the time finding out.”

  “Is that why we had to leave Grandmum behind?”

  “Oui. François wanted the troupe gone, and we knew Mother wouldn’t be well anytime soon. He agreed to take care of her if we left. It cost Mother a lot, but François promised we could come for her if she got better. Sometime afterward, I sent him a telegraph. His response was that her illness had claimed her, and he forbade me to return to his home.”

  “Now he’s dying or dead?”

  “It appears so. He had drawn out a separate will for me, apart from his own little family.”

  “Why did you not just go visit this lawyer instead of getting yourselves arrested at the market, eh?” Pierce asked.

  Nona gave her husband a cross look. “Because your father insisted we needed money at that very moment.”

  His father grimaced.

  Pierce snorted. “I heard you were caught pick-pocketing. Is that true?”

  Jasper gritted his teeth, and Pierce’s smile disappeared. “It is true?”

  His father stood with his chopsticks and bowl of sōmen. “We’re not having this conversation,” he grunted, walking toward the window to eat alone.

  Pierce shifted his sights to Taisia, who was looking at him with amusement. He grinned stupidly and let out a shy, nervous laugh.

  “Where’s Joaquin?” Nona inquired, returning his attention to her.

  “Sorry?”

  “Where is your brother?” she repeated. “Is he alive?”

  “Oh,” Pierce said, hiking the scarf up over his scar. “I saw ’im a few days ago near Crawley. He’s just fine and dandy.”

  Jasper sighed with relief. “How come he’s not with you?”

  Pierce searched for a way to explain without telling the truth. He dreaded having to tell his parents how their beloved eldest son had nearly reenacted a Cain and Able bit on their younger one. It would break their hearts.

  “We had a falling out some years back. Other than last week, I haven’t seen him in ages.”