by Augusta Li
When they got close enough to really see Frolic, though, all but the leader retreated a step. “Boss,” said one, “he gots a faerie wif ’im.”
“My arse!” the leader shouted.
“I once seen a faerie gentleman all in black, with a big, tall hat and two black cats on a leash,” said another of the thugs. “Seen ’im walking up by the clock tower. Well, two constables came up, beating their sticks against their hands, and told him he had to leave. The gentleman just laughed, an’ next thing I knew, where them two constables had stood was only a pile of turnips and a fat, pink pig eating to his heart’s content. He didn’t do nothin’. Only laughed.”
“You bunch of whimpering girls,” snarled the boss. “You collect my dues or you’ll deal with me. Go on! I want his pretty blue eye for a cufflink.”
They advanced slowly. Most of them were drunk. When a square-jawed brute, lower teeth jutting past his lip, swung a butcher knife at Querry’s throat, the thief parried with a flick of his wrist, sending the weapon into a frozen pile of fish guts ten feet to the side. He similarly disarmed the next attacker, leaving the man without a button for his trousers. When two fat brothers rushed them from the left and right, brandishing clubs the size of small trees, Querry and Frolic each took a step back, leaving them to wallop each other unconscious.
The leader growled with rage, spittle freezing on his chin. From the corner of his eye, Querry saw a small, wiry man sneaking up behind Frolic. He was just about to warn Frolic when the doll turned and thrust deeply, just as he’d been taught. The man, who’d been holding a small knife over his head, had no time to block, and Frolic’s blade sunk deep into his belly. Frolic’s eyes darted to Querry, and he quickly pulled back on his weapon. A font of blood spurted from between the man’s fingers, steaming in the snow.
“Querry,” said Frolic, his voice trembling as he watched his victim sink to his knees and then fall facedown. The dark outline grew around him.
“You did well,” Querry said quickly, remembering the first time he’d had to defend himself. “You did as you must. Keep your wits. There are more of them.” He counted half a dozen, not including the man in the top hat, who showed himself more and more as the kind of man who only got his hands dirty when his victory could be assured: when his opponent had both arms pinned behind his back, for example.
The death of their comrade ignited the bloodlust of the gang, and they rushed Querry and Frolic screaming. Querry ducked to avoid a lead pipe swung at his temple, but caught a fist to the diaphragm as he rose. He landed hard on his tailbone, gulping for air. In desperation he reached for one of his guns, despite the attention a shot would draw. Rough, dirty hands grabbed the sides of his hair. A knee made contact with his lips, swelling them. Pain shot through his jaw and face and blood trickled down his chin. His hand went from his hip to protect his head. The leg in front of him drew back for another blow.
“Querry!” Frolic shouted. With his limited range of motion, Querry saw only a blur of grays and reds as Frolic dispatched two of the attackers with impossible speed. He heard the hum of the enchanted sword, two dull thuds and a sickly squish. Then the bodies fell, one on top of the other. The man holding him was thrown to the side with force well beyond even a strong human. He landed on his side, slid ten feet on the icy cobblestone, and didn’t get up.
Shaking the haze from his head, Querry felt for his rapier and got to his feet. He licked the ferrous taste from his lips. Already Frolic ran toward the final three men, yelling and slicing arcs in the air before him. Querry hurried to follow. By the time he’d reached the group, Frolic had delivered a side-kick to the torso of the man in the leather helmet and goggles, sending him into the thug beside him. Both toppled like dominos, but before they could fall Frolic leapt into the air and hit each in the chest with one of his heels. The third man ran around the group and jumped to tackle Querry. Using the man’s momentum against him, the thief crouched and flipped him over his shoulder. He landed badly on his head, jamming his neck into his shoulders and breaking it. To finish, Frolic went to each of the prone men he’d just defeated and plunged his sword into their throats with a cold sneer on his face. The flurries returned, melting on Frolic’s cheeks.
Battle-lust coursing through him, Querry hacked with his sword and shouted, “Who else wants a go? Come on!”
The man in the top hat turned to run, but Frolic caught him by the coat, spun him, lifted him off his feet and slammed him against the nearest wall. He easily held him there, two feet from the ground, until Querry joined them.
Remembering what he’d suffered, Querry sheathed his blade and punched the man twice in the stomach. “It seems our positions are reversed this time. How does it feel?”
“What, what are you?” the man grunted at Frolic.
“Shut up,” Querry said through his teeth as he hit the man with the back of his knuckles, making him spit out a rotting tooth. “If you ever come near us again, you’ll wish that all I’d done is cut your other eye out. Do I make myself understood?”
He whimpered and nodded.
“Let’s go home and wash the filth off our hands,” Querry said, putting a hand on Frolic’s shoulder. The doll tossed the gang leader far and effortlessly, as if he were a dirty rag instead of a large man.
“I knew you could handle yourself,” Querry said as they turned their backs on bodies already disappearing beneath a blanket of white, “but that was amazing. Where in the world did you learn to do that?”
Frolic stopped in the street and looked down at his hands. Gashes and scabs covered Querry’s knuckles, as he hadn’t been wearing his gloves. The doll’s fingers, while bloody and dirty, showed not a single scratch. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said softly. “When I saw them hurt you, I became so angry. I wanted to destroy them. To just tear them to pieces. I don’t think I could have stopped myself.”
“You have nothing to worry yourself about. If you hadn’t, it would be us lying back there. I don’t think they’ll bother us again.” They started off again, the snow building icy caps on the tops of their heads. Querry’s blood still sang with victory and violence. He felt fantastic. Tonight, he decided, he would make love to Frolic. They’d proved quite a team, and the time to cement their union had come. Finally, guilt and uncertainty would be swept away. There would be only bodies writhing in pleasure, finally joined the way they both desired. In the dark, quiet street, Querry laughed out loud, caught Frolic’s hand, and quickened his pace.
MUCH about the boarding house felt familiar to Querry: drunks and whores cluttering the stairwells, heated quarrels spilling from behind thin doors, and beggars crouched in the shadows, hoping to go unnoticed and avoid expulsion. But something felt wrong in the way the other tenants eyed the two men, looking quickly away if noticed. Fear hung in the air. Querry knew the other residents felt no loyalty toward him, so he didn’t question them. He did stay near to Frolic, though, and urged him quickly through the shadows between the pools of candlelight from the wall sconces.
When they reached their room, Querry saw right away that the door had been pried loose with a bar. Deep gouges marred the frame. He held up his hand and Frolic stopped. In the dark houses of the wealthy, the two thieves had perfected non-verbal communication. Querry pressed his ear to the door and listened for many minutes to silence. Cautiously he opened it a crack. It creaked and bits of his clockwork lock pinged against the floor. A shaft of light from the window assured him the room was empty, and also that it had been thoroughly ransacked. The table lay on its side, gears spilled everywhere. The mattress had been ripped from the bed and slit open. Food and dishes had been flung about, chipping the plaster walls.
Frolic dug through the debris until he found and lit the candle. Holding it in his hand, he scanned around, making a clicking noise with his tongue. Beneath the shredded blanket, he found Toerag puffed up to twice his size. Frolic quickly scooped him up and put him inside his coat.
Querry heard movement in the hall: heavy boo
ts failing to walk softly. “Frolic,” he whispered. “We have to go. Now. The window.”
“But Tosser!”
“She’ll find us.”
“No!”
“Frolic, now!”
Flinging up the mattress, Frolic retrieved the other cat from the corner of the bed frame. She yowled miserably as he tucked her away beside her brother and buttoned his coat. Meanwhile Querry secured his grapple to the sill and unlatched the window. “Go,” he hissed at Frolic, who was trying to tuck his coat into the waistband of his trousers. After Frolic made it halfway, Querry swung his leg over and hurried down the rope. The questionable wood splintered, though, and they both fell the last six feet.
As he dusted himself off, Querry noticed a group of men stationed in front of the next building. Unlike the pack of thugs, they looked sober and well dressed. Already they approached Querry and Frolic, their hands disappearing inside their coats.
“Frolic, run!” Querry yelled.
They sped through the alleyways, slipping on the snow. Querry pushed Frolic in front of him, trying his best to shield Frolic’s shoulders with his arm. He cursed the easily followed trails they left in the snow. No matter what a lead they gained, their pursuers quickly found them. Querry swore, his lungs burning, running as hard as he could. Their only hope would be to reach a crowded area, where many footprints would obscure their tracks. For once, though, Rushport was quiet, desolate. The few whores desperate enough to venture out huddled close to the warmth of the bricks, clutching their shawls.
Daring a glance over his shoulder, Querry counted four men, each holding a shiny new pistol in his hand. He couldn’t imagine why they held their fire, unless they worried over damaging Frolic. No one would give a second thought to a back-shot cat burglar. Now and then Querry swore he saw someone else, a lone figure following at a distance, though he had no time to wonder or observe it.
Block after block of quiet houses stretched before them. Candles burned in a few windows, but most stood dark as tombs. The narrow alleys between them led only to dead ends. Querry pushed on, thighs burning and trembling. He almost envied Frolic, running beside him without so much as quickened breath. And in fact, Querry felt sure the doll could go much faster.
“Frolic,” he panted. “Run on ahead. Find a place to hide and I’ll—”
He waited for his coughing spell to pass, and continued. “I’ll hold them off, catch up later.”
“No, Querry!”
“Frolic, please!”
“You’ll be killed!”
“I won’t,” Querry lied. Without the blessings of much luck, he’d be gunned down. He was worthless to these men. But he wouldn’t let them take Frolic. “Go. Find Reg. Go to Reg.”
Skidding to a halt, Frolic said, “I have no purpose, no reason to live! And without you, I won’t belong to anyone. I’ll be completely lost.” He covered his face with his hands and started to sob, just as four dark shapes turned the corner.
Urging him forward, practically dragging him, Querry said, “We must keep going, Frolic.”
“I can’t go on alone. I was alone so long, Querry!”
“I won’t leave you.”
“Never?”
“Never. I swear it. But we must go. We can’t engage in another fight. Especially not a gunfight. If those men don’t get us, the police will! We’ve got to make it to the factories. Then we can blend in and lose them.”
“Get on my back, Querry.”
“What?”
“I can run faster than you. I can lose them.”
“But, I’m almost twice your size!”
“Querry,” Frolic pleaded. “I’m strong. You know that I am.”
Though he hated the idea of being the saved rather than the savior, Querry’s instinct for self-preservation couldn’t argue, and he climbed onto Frolic’s back, crossing his ankles over Frolic’s belt and holding his shoulders. The doll began to run, and the lazily falling snowflakes changed to comet-like blurs. The rushing air hit Querry’s face like a wall. His eyes streamed, and his lungs stung. Frolic ran at least as fast as a colt in the springtime, but so smoothly that Querry didn’t bounce against his back. It felt like gliding, flying. Querry had always fantasized about flight. Not even the cats showed distress, but poked their smoke-colored noses out of Frolic’s coat curiously.
Frolic sprinted tirelessly, block after block, mile after mile. The shouts of the curious were left far behind before Querry could process their words. In no time, throngs of factory workers appeared. Frolic slowed to a walk, and Querry checked behind them, seeing no sign of the strange men. He hopped down, and soon the mass of people absorbed them. As soon as he could, Querry ducked behind a cart heaped with scrap metal. It blocked the opening to a cinderblock corridor: a storage area for more refuse and also an excellent hiding place. Querry lowered his goggles over his eyes and switched to the night-vision lenses. He and Frolic navigated the junk piles until they reached the wall at the back, and then they leaned as Querry caught his breath.
“You know,” he said when he’d recovered, “I truly thought they’d forgotten us. I thought they’d just let us be. Let us live. Those men were well trained and well equipped. Someone put up some money to find you.”
“I still can’t imagine why they’d want me.”
Querry could. “Frolic,” he said firmly. “No matter who gets a hold of you, no matter what they say, just remember that you’re mine. I found you, and nothing can change that.”
“Yes, Querry. I know. But what will they try to do with me?”
“They don’t even know you’re what they’re after. I say we keep on letting everyone think you’re a faerie. People are afraid of faeries. They let them be.”
“I don’t even know what a faerie is.”
“Nobody really does.”
“They destroyed our home,” Frolic said, his back sliding down the wall until he crouched on the ground.
“It was just a rented room,” Querry said, joining Frolic. “Nothing special.”
“It was special to me. I’ve never had anywhere to be.”
“Me neither. I’m sorry, Frolic. I’ll find us another place.”
“Where will we go until then?”
“I can only think of one option.”
ROSEBERRY SQUARE was new and modern: a series of tall, thin, brick buildings circling a statuesque bronze goddess. Above her head she held an enormous glass orb. It glowed with gaslight to rival the moon, giving the square a striking semblance to a group of rakish men standing around a fire. All of the buildings looked identical, save for the different colors of their shutters and doors. Querry and Frolic crept quietly toward a house decorated with burgundy woodwork.
Since the work of the widow named Mrs. Spaulding was as much to report to Mrs. Whitney as to take Reg’s suits to the laundry, prepare his bath, and cook his breakfast, Querry lead Frolic around the back of the building and picked the simple lock on the cellar door. They tiptoed past Reg’s impressive wine collection, the generators that heated his water, and up the stairs, where Querry cracked the door to the kitchen. Mrs. Spaulding washed the china, tossed some wood into the potbelly stove, and set some dough to rise on the windowsill. Then the hunched old woman retired to her small room beside the pantry. The two thieves crossed the white tiles and ascended to the first floor.
The houses of the square had been designed specifically for wealthy bachelors, and contained everything such men would require in narrow rooms stacked high. This level housed a thin foyer, a gentleman’s study, and a formal dining room in which Reg could host his obligatory small dinner parties. Querry and Frolic found him at the table, relaxing with his shirt untucked and leafing through the daily news as he picked at his food. Adept at sneaking as they were, he never noticed them standing in the doorway until Tosser mewled loudly. Jumping to his feet, Reg’s silverware clanged on the marble floor.
“Querry!” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing here? You have to leave!”
�
�Relax,” Querry said, coming forward. “Nobody knows we’re here.”
“I don’t care! You know what kind of mess this could make! Mrs. Spaulding—”
“She’s asleep. I made sure.”
“You have to go, Querry!”
Putting both of his hands on Reg’s shoulders, Querry said, “We’re in trouble. We have nowhere else to turn.”
Reg looked at Querry’s battered knuckles. “Please don’t drag me into this. I can’t get involved. The Whitneys are a public family. You staying here is impossible.”
“You’d really turn me out when I need you most? I mean that little to you?”
Shrugging off Querry’s hands, Reg dropped dejectedly into his upholstered chair and leaned his forehead against his palm. With a swipe of his other hand, he indicated the leftovers. “Sit down. Help yourself to some dinner. That woman always cooks for a regiment.”
Frolic tugged his coat from his waistband and the cats landed softly. They began to explore, sniffing and yowling. Reg’s head crumpled even closer to his table linens. Querry removed his coat and sat down, his back to the cheery fire in the hearth. The food looked wonderful and smelled better: field peas in butter sauce, roasted parsnips speckled with herbs, two kinds of dinner rolls, cream soup in a silver tureen, a row of stuffed pigeons on a platter, some sardines and a rabbit. Safe now, he felt the loss of his dinner acutely and helped himself to a glass of sherry. As he ate, Frolic relayed to Reg the events of the evening in a dramatic way, using his hands to demonstrate how he’d vanquished the thugs. Querry grew less anxious as his belly filled, and his chapped skin warmed. Reg’s presence soothed him, always had. After a quarter of an hour the three men conversed merrily as they enjoyed the wines with an apple tart.
“Mrs. Spaulding has been hinting about a visit to her daughters in the North,” Reg said. “The youngest just had a son. I suppose I could send her off for a few weeks. You’ll still have to make yourself scarce when the housemaids come ’round on Mondays and Thursdays.”