by Gwynn White
The Countess nodded, a guilty expression passing over her features. “Please understand, I had no idea she would pull the two of you into this. If I had known, I would have done my best to forestall her.”
“Jabberwocky…I took the job to pay off the last of Jabberwocky’s debt to her,” William explained.
The Countess frowned. “Then I am twice at fault.”
William and I both looked at her.
“The Queen of Hearts sought, some years back, to expose me if I didn’t help her. Jabberwocky helped me buy her silence,” the Countess explained.
“You said she threatened to expose you. Expose what?” I asked.
“My dear, what do you think the gentry would make of an occultist in their mix? It’s one thing to do favors for certain high-up people who want those favors kept secret. It’s quite another matter when those secrets are exposed.”
“She was blackmailing you.”
“Yes. Jabberwocky did jobs for her to keep her silent…and so did I.”
“I remember. You were there the night she was in that bathtub filled with blood,” I said.
The Countess swirled the liquid in her cup. “For years, the Queen of Hearts has found my Uncle Horace’s collection of books—and my skills by extension—curious. She’s been looking for something. Her interest in the dark arts, as I believe the two of you already know, is deeply personal.”
“Yes,” I nodded, shuddering to think of the night I’d seen her consume Anna’s living blood.
“In exchange for her silence, the Queen has had me working to help her acquire certain knowledge. It began with a book she traced to Uncle Horace’s collection. That book chronicled the enchantments used by a Hungarian Countess by the name of Elizabeth Bathory.”
“Why? What information is she hunting?” William asked.
The Countess took a swig of her drink. “She’s looking for ways to stay young. She’s seeking the path to immortality. Bathory believed that bathing in the blood of virgins could extend one’s youth.”
“That’s madness,” William said.
“Is it?” The Countess replied. “When I first met the Queen, she and I were the same age.”
We both stared at her. But she was right. I had seen it myself.
“So she’s seeking spells, elixirs,” William said.
“More than that, but I have managed to keep such knowledge—what I know of it, at least—hidden from her. She would go the way of Faust and summon up a demon if she could.”
William laughed nervously. “But such knowledge…that’s impossible.”
The Countess raised an eyebrow and the expression on her face told me it was, in fact, very possible. I shuddered at the thought. “Some time ago my late husband—with whom I had a very contentious relationship—sold many of the books in Uncle Horace’s collection just to spite me. May you rot in hell,” she said, looking at the ground. “The Queen acquired a volume from that collection which contained a spell written by an Egyptian priest. The book was annotated, half translated, and appeared to have the ritual the Queen was after.”
“What kind of spell?” I asked.
“One that grants immortality. Of course, you had to have the right ingredients to make it work. And that is where her royal highness of insanity ran into some problems. I take it the deal you botched involved the acquisition of some of those…ingredients?” the Countess asked, turning to William.
“I…I’m not sure.”
She smiled carefully at him, an expression that told us both that she already knew the answer. “Well, no matter. She found a way. The task she set you on, William, and Alice by inadvertent extension, was to pluck another important element needed for the ritual. She needs a blood diamond.”
“A blood diamond?” William asked.
“A diamond that has caused many deaths,” the Countess explained. “The bloodier the diamond, the better. And what bloodier diamond is there than the Koh-i-Noor? Of course, the diamond is not the only thing she needed. She also needed a complete translation of the ritual, which I now have. So, now, I have the words, and she has everything else she needs except the diamond. Once she has that, the potion can be prepared and the ritual completed.”
“A potion? You mean, something she will drink?” William asked.
The Countess nodded.
“Will it work?” I asked, aghast.
The Countess shrugged. “I have no idea. But I know that this is where Anastasia Otranto and I will part ways. This is the last debt I owe her.”
“You’re not the only one,” William mumbled.
“Anastasia Otranto…why do I know that name?” I asked.
“The banker,” William replied. “That was the name on the paperwork the banker had. We botched the job, Alice. We missed something in the banker’s vault. That’s why…that’s why I was doing one last job for her, to clear off our—Jabberwocky’s—mistake.”
I frowned. “Anastasia Otranto. Who—”
“That, my dears, is the Queen of Hearts’s real name,” the Countess interjected.
William and I stared at one another.
“So, you’re planning to do the job?” the Countess asked. “Get the diamond? The Queen was quite adamant that it was the only way she’d release you from Jabberwocky’s debt.”
“Tonight,” William said.
“I’ll be visiting her today with the rest of the translation. She’s invited me for a game of—”
I reached into my pocket, pulled out the gem, and set it on William’s desk.
The Countess stopped midspeech.
William rose.
For several long minutes, no one spoke.
“Alice,” William finally whispered.
“I went back last night. I went in through the roof, just as we planned. Down the rope. Dodged the guards. The lock wasn’t that difficult to pick. In and out. Snatched. Just like always.”
“What about the gem on display? What did you—“
“I lifted a fake from one of the souvenir tents on the green. Swapped it with the real one.”
“They’ll figure it out. They’ll notice,” William said.
“Eventually. But the fake looked good to the eye.”
The Countess picked up the gem and looked at it. She studied it closely then set it back down. “It doesn’t feel cursed.”
“It isn’t, at least not to us. Only cursed for male British monarchs, right?” I replied.
William nodded. “I need to send word to Rabbit. He was going to trail the guard. I need to call him off.”
I nodded to him.
William rose and left the office, leaving me and the Countess alone.
“This potion. If any of the ingredients are not exact, what will happen?”
The Countess raised an eyebrow at me then shrugged. “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps she’ll get a stomach ache. Perhaps she’ll have a fit and lop off everyone’s heads. Or…”
“Or?”
“Or, it will kill her.” The Countess picked up the gem once more. She studied it closely. She then wrapped her hands around it and closed her eyes. A strange expression crossed her face, and for a moment, I’d swear I saw white light emanating from her clenched hand. After a moment, she relaxed once more and studied the diamond closely. “You know, Jabberwocky always told me you were the most intelligent child he’d ever met. From the moment he saw you, he knew you were special. You are. This diamond is exact. But this stone is not cursed.”
“Of course it is,” I said with a smirk.
“It’s a risk, Bandersnatch. She’ll have someone there to check the gem.”
I shrugged. “Do you think a gem master will be able to sense whether it is cursed or not? Seems like something only someone gifted in the occult would notice.”
The Countess smirked, shook her head, and then handed the gem back to me.
“So, you’re planning to visit the Queen today? Mind if we come along?”
The Countess lifted her glass, polishing it off, then set
the cup back down. “Do you play croquet?” she asked with a grin.
21
Of Wickets, Flamingos, and Random Beheadings
The Countess slipped into the driver’s seat of her auto, motioning for me to take the seat beside her. William and Jack—who we’d brought along for muscle—slid into the back passenger seat.
My heart was pounding. If the Queen discovered the stone was a fake, she’d be out for blood. But I took Henry’s word as truth. She wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
I had debated whether or not to tell William the diamond was a sham. But the moment I saw him sitting in Jabberwocky’s chair, I knew I should lie. If the deal went bad, it would be on me and me alone. I had left William to clean up Jabberwocky’s debts, and I’d been wrong. William was in this situation now, in part because of me. He wasn’t dragging me back into anything. He could have walked away when I did, but he’d felt obligated to Jabberwocky in a way I hadn’t. I didn’t see that then, but I understood now. For the last year, the man I’d loved was trying to find his way back to me. The tremendous realization hit me hard, and I was overwhelmed with a sense of guilt. I owed him.
The countess swerved around carriages, startling the horses, as she sped down the narrow streets. I’d sworn to myself I’d never step foot in the Queen of Hearts’s abbey again. I was wrong. When we pulled up to the abbey’s gate, the guards let the Countess through with a wave. She pulled her auto to a stop, parking it alongside the carriages and an odd cart with motorized wheels that reeked of algae.
With the Countess taking the lead, we headed toward the front door.
A tall man with very pale skin and a vacant look in his eyes met us there. “Around the back, please.”
The flagstones of the path leading to the back of the house were arranged in a black and white brick pattern which resembled a chessboard. We passed under a wrought-iron arch into an elaborate rose garden. Bright red roses were in full bloom. Strange, of course, since they were out of season. Even more curious was that, despite the fact that the roses were so lovely, two of the Queen’s automatons were going from bush to bush sprinkling a powder on the blossoms. I slowed to watch as we passed. As the powder landed on the blooms, their pigment faded. They turned white.
“Well, that’s an odd sight,” Jack whispered.
“Nothing compared to what we’ll find next, no doubt,” William replied.
We passed through the rose garden toward the large grassy area where several other people milled about. An odd ensemble of people was gathered there. One group included an older man and woman and half a dozen young girls from, presumably, Japan. They were dressed in fine silk robes, their dark hair held up with sticks. They giggled excitedly as they watched the automatons recolor the roses. I scanned the crowd, recognizing a French smuggler who frequented The Mushroom. He spotted us as well. He nodded to William.
“Beaumont,” Jack whispered.
William nodded.
“Countess Waldegrave,” a very round man called. His wife, who looked exceedingly bored, barely cast a glance our way.
The Countess nodded and crossed the grass to meet him.
“Mallet,” a footman said, holding a croquet mallet toward me.
“We’re here on business,” I told him.
“Take a mallet.”
Each of us took one of the wooden mallets, and then we waited.
There was a flurry of action at the back of the house, and then a very odd looking group appeared. A man at the front pushed a cart loaded down with something pink and fluffy. Behind him walked several young women, all of whom looked very pale and thin. They each wore thin gowns that looked like little more than chemises. Behind them were several guards, and at last came the Queen and her favorite henchman. Alongside the Queen, however, walked a very tall and handsome man. He was dressed in a fine suit and had a mop of black curls and striking blue eyes. In fact, they were so striking that when I studied them more closely, I realized they were not eyes at all. They were optics. The man had a very large wound across his neck that seemed to have been sewn shut in a haphazard manner, and his left arm appeared to be entirely mechanical. His clockwork hand glinted in the sunlight, offsetting his dreadfully pale skin. Despite his unusual appearance, he was doting on the Queen of Hearts who walked at his side.
Dressed in a long black gown and wearing a large black hat, its veil open at the front, she looked like she was no older than a girl of sixteen. Her flawless skin made her appear as if she’d been carved from marble. I couldn’t help but stare.
“Do you see what I see?” William whispered.
I nodded.
The Queen sat down in a tall-backed wicker chair, the handsome—and possibly undead—man sitting beside her. Two of the Queen’s girls sat at her feet. The rest of us stirred nervously. Only the Japanese visitors seemed unaware of the danger they were in. The Queen looked over the crowd. She paused when her gaze fell on William, Jack, and me.
“Well, I don’t recall inviting you,” she said.
The Countess left her portly friend and joined us. “I asked them to join me. They mentioned they had some business to transact. I happened to be on my way here. We thought it would make the day more festive if we all came out for croquet.”
“Festive?” she replied with a snort. “Very well.”
“First players,” she called, motioning to the French smuggler, Beaumont. “Choose two players,” she told him. The Queen motioned for her maidens and her henchman to join Beaumont and his companion for a game of croquet. The course was already set with a game of nine-wicket.
“Eh, Madame, we’ve no mallets,” Beaumont said.
“Here you are. Select the best one. Some have a bit more give than the others,” she said with a laugh which the handsome man beside her echoed. She waved to the cart.
Straining to look, I noticed then that on the cart was heaped with dead flamingos.
When the madness of the situation became clear, Beaumont’s companion protested.
“Madame, this is ridiculous. How are we intended to play like this? We have business to discuss. This is a waste of—”
The Queen rose abruptly. “Off with his head,” she screamed.
Before anyone could move, one of the nearby automatons turned and moved forward quickly. Swinging a massive ax, it lopped the Frenchman’s head off. It bounced into the rose bushes. The body slumped over into the grass.
“Now look, you’ve made a mess. Take the body away,” she told one her guards. The swift brutality of the scene racked me. This was the Queen of Hearts I remembered well. “Choose another player, and pick your mallet already,” the Queen told Beaumont.
The man clenched his jaw hard then motioned to another of his comrades. He walked over to the cart and picked up a flamingo.
“The Queen had a shipment she was trying to deliver to Germany. Beaumont lost the merchandise to pirates,” William whispered in my ear.
“Quiet,” the Queen yelled in William’s direction. “Begin,” she called, turning to Beaumont once more.
At that, the Queen’s maiden smacked her first ball and the game began.
We watched as the players worked their way around the yard. Beaumont, it seemed, was quite good. His flamingo apparently had a case of rigor mortis. When the final shots were made, Beaumont completed first. The henchman and the Queen’s girl finished second and third, followed by Beaumont’s surviving companion.
“You play well,” the Queen told Beaumont.
“Oui, Madame. I played as a boy.”
“Very good,” she said then rose. “Kneel before me,” she told Beaumont and his companion.
Frowning, Beaumont and his man knelt.
“Kiss my ring,” she said, holding out her hand.
“But Madame, you’re not wearing a ring,” Beaumont protested.
“Are you calling me a liar?” she asked.
Beaumont stiffened. “Non, it’s just that—”
“Off with their heads,” she yelled, and
before the men could move, another guard swept in and decapitated Beaumont and his man.
“Bloody hell,” Jack exclaimed.
The bodies were dragged off. Two of the Queen’s girls went to retrieve the heads. One of the girls brought Beaumont’s head back to the Queen. She held the head, looking into his face, completely undisturbed by the fact that blood was leaking all over her dress.
“He’s a handsome one, isn’t he,” she said to one of her girls, who merely smiled.
The Queen brought the head close to her and kissed his lips.
“Yuck,” she protested. “Bad breath. Next game! Who wants to play next? You?” she asked the portly man.
“N-n-no, thank you,” the man stammered nervously. Curiously, his wife yawned and looked around as if nothing off was happening. “I have what you wanted,” he added in a loud whisper. He pointed to his coat pocket.
“Good,” the Queen said pertly. “Take him and his wife inside,” she told one of her girls.
“Oh, thank you. Thank you,” the man replied. He pulled his unaware wife along behind him.
“Up for a game, Countess? Why don’t you play my guests in the second field?” the Queen offered. In a garden row just beside ours, another game had already been set up.
The Countess motioned for the Japanese group—who looked like they were not sure if they should run, cry, or fight—to follow her.
“Now,” the Queen said, turning her attention to us. “What to do with my unexpected guests.”
“We also have some business to discuss,” William told her.
Ignoring him, the Queen looked at me. “I haven’t seen you in a while, Bandersnatch. Someone told me you were off the chess board.”
“I was.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I think you know why.”
The Queen looked at William. “Couldn’t pull off the job without your girl? I didn’t think so. Must have been an awkward reunion.”
William didn’t say anything.
“Caterpillar. You’re so serious,” she said with a laugh then rose. “Alice, wasn’t it? Let’s have a match. You and the Knave against me and my girl.”