The beautifully carved double-door entrance to the Guild Hall was closed, and a man—a different guard from last time—stood stiffly at the entrance.
“Are you a Guild member, miss?”
My heart sank a little. His demeanor didn’t give me much hope that he would be more cooperative than the last guard I’d met on these steps.
“No, I’m not—” I started. I noticed his name tag read “Craftsman Turner.”
He frowned at me, and his eyes roved over my clothing. I touched the now-wild mess of my hair, making a quick effort to comb my fingers through it.
“Do you have business here, miss?” Turner asked.
Then I gave up, straightened my shoulders, and looked the craftsman directly in the eyes.
“I need to see the president immediately, Craftsman Turner,” I replied, using as authoritative a voice as I could manage. His eyes widened a little in surprise at my use of his title. “It’s urgent.”
Turner raised one eyebrow, continuing to study me with a narrow and focused expression. His forehead furrowed, and he hesitated. I thought he was about to refuse my entry and started to marshal further arguments as to why he should open the door when he gave me a curt nod and stepped aside.
“As it happens, Madam President is here,” Turner said. “If you know that, I suppose you might need to see her, after all.”
I gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Craftsman.”
The door swung open, and I strode quickly inside. Turner didn’t move from his post, but he raised a hand and snapped his fingers twice. Another man appeared, wearing the same emblem on his coat lapel.
“Show the Lady to the main hall, Dirk. Madam President is meeting the Grand Masters—but don’t let her interrupt their meeting,” Turner cautioned, pointing his forefinger to emphasize his point. I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued. “Announce her presence, and let the Grand Masters decide whether she should be admitted or not.”
Turner turned back to me. “Apprentice Dirk will take you from here,” he said with a bow. I gave the man another smile and followed Dirk into the mysterious Guild Hall.
Few people were allowed into the halls of the Guild unless they were members. I’d never seen the inside of this building, and though I didn’t have time to appreciate my surrounds, I couldn’t help but see the evidence of the different Guild specialties that were on display in the hall: beautifully wrought metal sculptures made by the Metallurgy Guild, an ornate grandfather clock made from the joint efforts of the Wood-turners Guild and the Horology Guild, and several prototypes of inventions from the Inventors Guild that I really wanted to take a closer look at. There were plenty more pieces on display, but my eyes were drawn to the center of the hall where a glass sculpture stood, in the shape of a woman holding a lamp with a flame flickering inside. The plaque noted it was made by the Glass-blowing Guild—the most beautiful lamp I’d ever seen—and I paused to peer at the inscription, which read: The Guilds hold the lamp that lights the way to the future.
Dirk’s footsteps clipped across the polished floor as we walked. I was so busy staring around me that when he came to an abrupt stop outside another set of double doors, I almost crashed into him. These doors were even grander than those at the entrance and inlaid with tiny shapes of colored metal, marble, glass, and wood in an incredible mosaic of the same emblem—many hands reaching for the light—that was stitched into the Guildsmen’s lapels.
“Wait here,” he instructed, then pushed on the door, opening it just wide enough to step through. Inside, the conversation abruptly halted as Dirk’s crisp footsteps echoed as he moved inside, leaving me outside, holding my breath and hoping Alice would agree to see me.
I twisted my fingers in my skirts, as every moment stretched out. The urgency built inside me as I waited.
The clipped footsteps returned, accompanied by softer footsteps, and as Alice’s face appeared in the doorway, I felt a flood of relief. I caught hold of her hand before I saw the tight pinch of her mouth.
“What are you doing here?” Alice snapped. “This is a very important meeting. I can’t just—”
Her tone caught me by surprise, but I gripped her hand more tightly. “The Hearts were trying to get to the clock.” I spoke quickly, pouring out the words before Alice could leave. “The Pinnacle Clock. Remember, it started working at the same time the Hearts reappeared. It was drawing the Hearts to it. Somehow they’re connected—as though they’re the missing parts of a puzzle—but they’re not finished yet.”
“I don’t see how—”
“I feel it, Mother,” I tugged on her hand. “You know I have a “knack” for machines.” I couldn’t use the word magic. Alice would only laugh and dismiss my concerns. “I just know.” I took a breath. “Please, listen to me. I would never interrupt such an important meeting without good reason. I know that something is going to happen at the wall. You’re the only one with a key. I need to—”
Alice took a deep breath and tugged her hand away. She stared at me for a moment, unblinking, pressed her lips together, and, without a word, turned to step back into the hall.
I reached out after her, “Please…” I whispered, but I couldn’t follow because Dirk stood in my path.
“You may not enter,” he said. I looked up into his expressionless face and knew that no amount of pleading would budge him.
Alice’s voice wafted through the still-open door. Then, to my surprise, Alice stepped out again. She fixed me with a stare.
“Lead the way,” Alice said. I blinked, as she strode past me without pausing. She turned her head and gave me a hard stare without breaking stride. “This had better be important.”
I picked up my skirts and raced to keep pace.
“You can ride with me,” I said as we both walked through the entrance and down the stairs.
Alice gave me a confused glance, then her expression became horrified as I stopped in front of the bike.
“You can’t possibly—”
“It’s the fastest way to get to the wall,” I replied, handing her the only helmet. I slid the goggles over my eyes, then swung a leg over the steam bike. “We don’t have a moment to lose.”
I could see Alice starting to formulate all the objections as to why she would not be riding on my contraption, but then a determined expression came over her face, and she took a step forward and swung her leg over the bike too. Her arms tightened around my waist.
“Hold on,” I called out to her, before revving the engine and kicking the bike into action.
Alice screamed as we took off in the direction of the wall.
Marching footsteps drowned out even the sound of the steam engine when we were a block away from the wall. I swerved out of a side-street and into the center of Twelfth Avenue, putting out one foot to help me take the tight corner. Alice wound her arms around my waist so tightly that she almost squeezed the breath from my body.
A heavy feeling expanded in my stomach as the sound of marching grew louder. I accelerated, forcing the bike faster, and faster. Alice let out another scream, and I was sure that she’d squeezed her eyes shut in fear.
The stone structure of the wall loomed up ahead, but something wasn’t right.
I squinted, noticing the thick metal gates weren’t in place—they were wide open—but I shook my head, unable to believe what I was seeing.
It can’t be, I told myself. Alice has the only key.
The thought had barely popped into my mind when I realized the movement at the gates was the Hearts, marching three abreast down the center of the avenue.
Their eyes were fixed ahead, and their progress was relentless. They didn’t seem to notice the people running out of their way, darting into shops or doorways or slamming the shutters shut. There was a slight
disruption in the movements of the Hearts in the center of the column. There was something in their path—a mound—but instead of avoiding it, they were marching over the top of it.
On the side of the road, people were poin
ting at the mound, tears streaming down their faces. It wasn’t a something, but a someone. A someone who hadn’t moved out of their way fast enough.
I gritted my teeth as I slowed the bike to a stop, more carefully this time, so that Alice could dismount before I flung my leg over the bike and leaned it up against a lamp post.
Alice struggled to get the helmet off her head, but I yanked my goggles from my eyes and started running toward the open gates. There was nothing I could do for the person dead in the streets, but I had to do something about the gates before the Hearts caused any more damage.
I didn’t even pause as I pushed my weight against the door of the watchhouse and barged inside. I swung my head from side to side as I searched for Captain Walsh.
“What are you doing?” I screamed at a guard, sitting on a seat in the watchhouse next to a system of bells and lights that were supposed to sound in an emergency. His uniform marked him as a junior watchman. He looked at me in astonishment, then jumped to his feet. “Close the gates!”
The watchman blinked, as though he didn’t understand what I was saying. “The gates, miss?”
“Close the gates!” I yelled again, pointing outside. He took a few steps around me, toward the door.
Alice appeared in the doorway of the watchhouse, pale and panting. Despite appearances, when she spoke, her voice rang with authority. “Where is your commanding officer, Watchman Vern?”
The astonished watchman shook his head. “Off duty,” he replied, belatedly saluting Alice as he recognized his president.
“Who gave the order to open the gates?” Alice demanded.
Vern shrugged, looking around in bewilderment. “Nobody,” he replied. “There’s no-one else here. We’re on a skeleton staff as we were ordered to stand down from the emergency protocols. We thought the attack was over. Most of the guards have either gone on much-needed rest and respite, or they’ve been ordered to duties within the city. I’m sorry, Madam President,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought those orders came directly from you.”
Alice was still struggling to catch her breath. “Don’t concern yourself, Watchman. I did give those orders. What I’m trying to understand is why these gates are open and why there are hundreds of Hearts entering Melfall.”
Vern looked around and saw the Hearts marching in the street. His jaw dropped open.
“I’ll sound the alarm, Madam President,” Vern saluted her again, then ran back to pull the levers that rang the bells and sounded the alarm at watch stations all along the wall.
I didn’t wait for the watchman to finish what he was doing. Instead, I darted out of the watchhouse and took the steps up the stone wall two at a time, towards the wall walk along the ramparts of the perimeter wall.
At the top, the wind was stronger, pulling my hair into knots and making my eyes water. I turned to face the city, putting my back to the wind and watched the Hearts march down Twelfth Avenue.
My mouth went dry. I’d failed.
I should have insisted on taking a look at those Hearts earlier. I should have figured it out. If I hadn’t been so distracted—by Raven, by my new sister, by the plight of the people in the tunnels...
Then I shook my head. This was no time to dwell on regrets. The Hearts had to be stopped before they hurt anyone else. Maybe, if the watchman could get the gates closed again, perhaps we would still trap most of the Hearts outside the wall. There might still be time.
As I turned towards the steps, out of the corner of my eye, I saw two figures leaning up against the outer edge of the ramparts. They both wore garish suits—one was orange with a green check, while the other was green with an orange check—and both wore identical grins on their faces.
I froze, and my mouth dropped open at the sight of the Tweedles. The terrible tightness in my chest grew worse.
“You,” I stammered, finally. “You did this.”
The grins on the Tweedles' faces grew even wider as they looked at each other like two little boys who’d been given the keys to a sweet shop.
“Who us?” they answered in unison. “Did what?”
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my temper under control. I took a slow step towards them and pointed a finger at the Hearts marching down Twelfth Avenue. “That!”
“That?” Tweedle Dee asked, looking at his twin with mock confusion.
“What’s that?” Tweedle Dum looked around with wide eyes, then back to Dee. “I couldn’t say.”
“Nor I,” Tweedle Dee said. They both shrugged their shoulders and looked back at me, grinning.
I bunched my hands into fists and took another deep breath. “You opened the gates. You let the Hearts back into the city.”
“Oh, is that what you’re talking about?” Tweedle Dee asked.
Tweedle Dum looked at his twin. “Is that what she’s talking about?”
I ground my teeth together. “Yes, that’s what I’m talking about.”
Tweedle Dum scratched his chin. “I suppose we did do that,” he said.
“Guilty, as charged.” Tweedle Dee’s white-blonde hair was combed flat to his head, but it shifted as he eagerly nodded his head.
“How?” I asked.
“You want to know how?” Tweedle Dee asked.
“She wants to know how,” Tweedle Dum agreed. They both giggled.
“Yes, how did you open the gates?” I yelled in exasperation. “They were locked!”
“Oh, that,” Tweedle Dum arched one eyebrow. He crossed his arms and looked sideways at his brother. “Shall we show her, Dee?”
Tweedle Dee tapped one finger against his chin, thinking. Then he gave his twin a nod. “Show her, Dum.”
Tweedle Dum reached into his pocket, slowly drawing something out, which he held up in the air.
A key.
A very old, brass key with a heart molded into the bow.
I reached out to touch it, but Dum snatched it away.
“Is that a key to the gates?” I asked. “But only Alice has a key…” I stared from one Tweedle to the other.
“Only Alice has a key?” Dum asked. He put a hand to his mouth, in mock-shock, and turned to Dee. “I didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t know that either,” Dee replied. He tapped a finger against his chin, mock-frowning. “Is that right?”
Dum scratched his chin. “No, that can’t be right,” Dum answered.
“You’ve got a key right there,” Dee agreed.
The twins grinned at each other.
“So there must be more than one,” Dum said, triumphantly. Dum turned back to me. “No, Alice doesn’t have the only key.”
I clenched my fists, trying to contain my exasperation. “Where did you get it?”
Dum took off his hat and scratched his head, as though he was thinking, but his eyes glittered with mischief. “Can you remember, Dee?”
“Oh yes, I do remember,” Dee answered his brother. “Do you?”
Dum grinned, settling his hat back on his head again. “I remember too.”
I fought the urge to throttle them both, knowing that interrupting them would only lengthen their explanation. I felt like the pressure of an explosion was building up inside of me, at risk of exploding.
“Yes, as it happens, Her Royal Highness…” Dum continued.
“Our rightful ruler,” Dee added.
“The most rightful ruler as ever there was,” Dum agreed.
“And the reddest,” Dee added.
“And the heartiest,” Dum said, then they both roared with laughter. Then Dee stopped and leaned forward to peer at his brother’s coat lapel. Dum stopped to see what his brother was staring at. Suddenly, Dee slapped Dum hard on the chest.
“Hey!” Dum said. Without warning, he slapped his twin across the face.
“Ouch!” Dee answered.
“You hit me first.” Dum put his hands on his hips.
Dee held up his hand. A black mark was smeared over his palm. “Bug.”
I cleared my throat, putting
my hands on my hips. “The Queen of Hearts had a key,” I guessed.
The Tweedles turned abruptly. All mirth was gone from their expressions. They both stared at me, sulkily.
“You don’t think she would have given up her key to the city when she left, do you?” They said in unison.
I didn’t answer, as I turned to rush back down the steps.
I turned off the engine and pulled up my goggles until they rested on the top of my forehead. Alice’s tight grip around my waist loosened slightly, and she jumped off the bike as though it was a wild animal. I’d stopped the bike at the edge of the city center. The Pinnacle rose up in front of us.
I exchanged a look with Alice, but only for a moment before I stared up at the Pinnacle clock.
In front of my eyes, the Hearts were moving in a rapid and coordinated fashion, forming card towers to hoist each other up the side of the tower. They moved so quickly, I could barely keep up with how they moved, but once the Hearts had finished making a card tower that reached all the way up to the Pinnacle clock, then Hearts started slotting themselves into place in the metal struts that made up the framework of the tower.
“What are they doing?” Alice asked, with both wonder and confusion in her voice.
I shook my head at a loss to explain. “I don’t know, but I don’t have a good feeling about it.”
“Can we stop them?”
I looked over at her, then glanced around. There wasn’t another person in the city center. Behind us, the brightly colored shutters on the buildings were shut tight. If there was anyone else around, they’d locked themselves up at the reappearance of the Hearts.
“The two of us?” I shook my head. “I think the Hearts attacked people before because they were in between them and the clock. If we try to stop them…”
Alice nodded. Then she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Her shoulders slumped.
I turned back to the clock, unable to take my eyes off the activity in front of me. It was like a mechanical dance, watching the Hearts climb up the card tower, then slot into the spaces between the tower struts.
Once the cards climbing the card tower had found their place in the tower, the card tower seemed to disappear as the cards that formed it, started slotting themselves into place from the top down.
Ivy: Daughter of Alice Page 32