Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  “My pocket watch! My grandfather’s pocket watch,” Lord Dodgson cried, clutching his vest where he always kept his pocket watch. “Stop that boy. He stole my pocket watch. Alice!”

  I glanced up the street to see the boy dangle the pocket watch teasingly before us.

  “Rabbit,” I hissed.

  “Your Grace…I need to—”

  “Go, Alice. Go.”

  The footman held tightly onto Lord Dodgson so I could let go. I turned and faced the boy. Rabbit, the little albino street rat, was grinning at me. Sneaky little pickpocket. What was he doing in my part of town? He’d grabbed the watch so deftly. Not bad. Some people said he was almost as good as I used to be.

  Almost.

  2

  Chasing Rabbits

  Rabbit,” I called.

  The boy grinned, stuffed the pocket watch inside his coat, then turned and raced off.

  “Dammit,” I whispered then dashed after him.

  My legs pumping hard, I pounded down the cobblestone street behind him. The boy dodged across the road, startling a horse who nearly threw his rider. If I lost Rabbit in the crowd, I’d end up having to search the entire city for him. Rabbit rushed toward the park. He moved quickly between the finely dressed gentlemen and ladies making their way toward the Crystal Palace for the exhibition.

  From somewhere in the distance, I heard the boom of a cannon. An airship race was starting. I frowned again. Henry better be at his shop. He’d promised me and Bess he was done with gambling. And he’d said he meant it. But making promises is easy when temptation is out of sight. And he’d made that promise when it wasn't racing season.

  I rushed through the crowd. Rabbit was fast. If it weren’t for the startled proclamations of “I say” or the tiny shrieks of fine ladies as Rabbit pushed past, I’d hardly know which way he’d gone.

  The walkway emptied out into the wide, green expanse of Hyde Park. The magnificent Crystal Palace, an ornate building made of glass and wrought iron, constructed just for the Great Exhibition, shimmered like a gem in the sunlight. I’d seen it under construction but hadn’t been that way since. I could see why it had earned its name. The beveled glass panes shimmered with tints of blue, pink, and yellow under the warm sunlight. Inside, I saw a dizzying display of oddities. Between me and the palace, the green space was filled with tents, vendors, revelers, and race aficionados.

  I glanced upward. The first of the airships, its brightly painted balloon holding the wooden gondola aloft, was speeding overhead.

  Ahead of me, I heard a shriek followed by the sound of glass shattering. I turned the corner to find a display of jars of orange marmalade shattered on the ground. The strong scent of orange peel perfumed the air. An angry-faced merchant shouted in the direction of Rabbit, shaking her fist.

  I raced after him.

  Rabbit rushed through another vendor tent, this one selling cupboards displaying finely painted china. I followed. The vendor was too busy yelling at Rabbit to curse me.

  “Two bulls passing through,” I said with a laugh at the shocked merchant who stared at us.

  I turned the corner to nearly trip over one of what looked like a hundred rocking chairs in time to see Rabbit race away from the vendors toward the food stalls and makeshift taverns.

  The crowd oohed and ahhed as the airships passed overhead. I heard the airship captains barking orders to their crews as the ships jockeyed for position.

  I chased Rabbit down tavern row. We were in the thick of my old world, my old life. Tarts lingered, half-dressed, outside sumptuously decorated tents. The strong scents of drink and opium smoke perfumed the air. The crowd became rough and rowdy. The fine ladies wouldn’t be found anywhere near here. Their gentleman, of course, darted into the opium tents, makeshift brothels, and wagering places. Typical.

  I turned the last corner and lost sight of Rabbit. But it didn’t matter. At the end of the row was a massive tent. The fabric door wagged. A guard stood at the door. I was in the right place. A mushroom was painted on the tent door.

  I tried to quell the terrible ache that rocked my stomach. I clenched my hands, took a deep breath, then almost turned to leave.

  “Anything the matter, Alice?” the guard finally asked.

  I turned my attention to him. “Frog? What happened to your eye?” I motioned to the eyepatch hiding one of his baby blues. Frog, as they’d called him due to his harsh voice—a blessing, actually, in that he’d survived a throat infection that had killed the rest of his family—grinned.

  “Rough job a few months back.”

  I nodded. “I’d say. Sorry to hear it. I’m after Rabbit. He stole something from me.”

  Without another word, Frog held open the flap to the tent and motioned for me to enter.

  Curious again.

  3

  The Caterpillar

  My heart beat quickly. This was the last place I wanted to be. The tent was dark, lit only by flickering candles in colorful glass lamps from the Orient. The scents of opium and tobacco, and the tang of alcohol, filled the air. Thieves made deals in shadowed corners, tarts displayed their pert breasts to willing customers, and tinkers traded their deadly creations for illicitly-won coin. Almost nothing had changed in the year since I’d left. Except now Caterpillar was at the helm of one of London’s largest crime syndicates. And therein lay my biggest problem.

  I moved toward the shimmering golden curtain at the back of the tent. Rabbit was whispering in Caterpillar’s ear. He nodded then waved the boy away. Rabbit slipped between the bodyguards and went to the back.

  Caterpillar. Of course, that wasn’t his real name. I’d known and loved him as William. But he wasn’t William anymore. Now he was a peddler of opium and flesh. He was a crime lord, a dealer of dark deeds, and a man who’d broken my heart.

  I hated the scene, hated that I would have to go talk to him, and hated that his blue eyes were still quick and shining. His eyes were lined with dark charcoal, ears trimmed with dangling pearls. I hated that his hair still fell over his left brow in the most charming manner and that when he smirked, one eyebrow raised. I hated that it made my stomach twist. One of the tarts offered him a glass of wine and a small bowl of what looked like dried mushrooms. He took the wine but waved the fungi away.

  William drew me in. It was William who I’d loved, but it was Caterpillar who’d chosen this life over me. I needed to remember that, to keep my head on straight. I just needed the pocket watch. I’d get the pocket watch then leave.

  I approached the guards cautiously, stopping just short of the entryway.

  They looked from me to one another, unsure what to do.

  I stared at William who toked on a hookah pipe, blowing a ring of smoke in the air.

  The guards shifted uncomfortably.

  William, who’d been lounging on a chaise, sat up and looked out at me through the sheer fabric.

  He smirked then leaned forward. “Who are you?”

  His question silenced those around him. Everyone knew who I was.

  “When I woke up this morning, I was Alice.”

  He rose then moved closer. “But who are you now?”

  “That depends. Who are you? Which Alice is here depends on your answer.”

  He came to the curtain. “Well then, that makes it hard to say.”

  “I’m sure it does, given how good you are at betraying your true nature.” I was trying to keep a lid on my feelings but was failing miserably. As he drew closer, I smelled the sweet aromas of jasmine and sandalwood that always clung to him.

  “You’re one to talk. So, what does Alice from this morning want?”

  I frowned at him.

  “Don’t get too frustrated,” he replied then pulled the curtain open, beckoning me inside, “or the other Alice might peek out. Come.”

  I entered the semi-private enclosure. Inside, I spotted William’s chief bodyguard, the Knave. A tart lay naked, asleep in an opium stupor, on a chaise nearby.

  I nodded to the Knave.
>
  “Alice,” he said with a soft smile. I caught the lilt of his Irish accent in his voice. His real name, of course, was Jack. He’d been friends with William and me since we were young. As was the habit in the industry, Jack went by a pseudonym. If someone ratted you out, it was better that they had no idea what your real name might be. It’s a lot harder to track a man named Knave than it was Jack O’Toole or Caterpillar than it was to find William Charleston.

  “Have a seat, Alice from this morning,” William said.

  I sat on the chaise, gently pushing aside the legs of the intoxicated strumpet.

  “What brings you here?” he asked, rubbing a thoughtful finger across his chin. He’d grown a short, neatly-kept beard since I saw him last. It looked very handsome.

  “Rabbit stole a pocket watch from my employer. I want it back.”

  “What does that have to do with me?” William asked.

  “Cake?” one of William’s girls offered, holding out a tray on which sat a colorful selection of petit fours.

  I looked down at the small treats. I could smell the aroma of the frosting, nearly taste the sweet confections in a glance. I could see the game was truly afoot. They were my favorite. I raised an eyebrow at William who smiled.

  The stubborn part of me wanted to tell William, and the girl, to sod off. But the part of me who hadn’t tasted strawberry frosted, vanilla-sweetened, and raspberry-and crème-filled cake in months could say no such thing. I lifted a small cake and popped it into my mouth, feeling annoyed and enraptured all in the same moment. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste. They’d come from my favorite baker. William had remembered. Once more, angry and elated feelings swept over me.

  “Drink?” the girl then offered.

  I opened my eyes to see the girl was holding a bottle of absinthe.

  “Alice isn’t the type. Do you want some tea?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Run off,” he told the serving girl, waving her away.

  The girl turned to go, but before she could leave, I reached out and grabbed just one more petit four: pistachio and chocolate. I popped it into my mouth.

  “I’m glad you like them,” William said, grinning at me.

  The warmth of his gaze made me angry. He didn’t have any right being this nice to me. “The pocket watch?” I asked after swallowing the last bite.

  “Alice from the morning is very business-oriented. Right, then. What of it?”

  “I hate it when you play coy. And you’re not very good at it. Rabbit entered this tent not a moment before me. I want that watch. Must I remind you that we have an understanding? You don’t tangle in my affairs, remember? It was agreed upon.”

  “You certainly are Alice from this morning,” he said with a frown. “Not that the outfit didn’t give it away. Crisp white apron you have there, Alice. But the blue maid’s dress brings out your eyes.”

  “We all wear costumes, don’t we, Caterpillar and his Knave?” I said, casting a glance at Jack. “Is he Jack or is he the Knave? Are you Caterpillar or are you William? Hard to tell what’s truth and what’s fiction, isn’t it?”

  William smirked then turned to Jack. “Find Rabbit.”

  “He shouldn’t be far. You waved him off just a moment ago,” I said.

  Chuckling under his breath, Jack left.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked.

  “Bring you here?” William replied.

  Now I was getting irritated. “Yes. Why did you bring me here?”

  “Chance brings you here.”

  “There is no such thing. Rabbit would never steal from me or mine unless you told him to.”

  “Really?”

  “William,” I replied, a warning in my voice.

  “Let’s just say that a pocket watch brought you here,” he said.

  “For what reason?”

  “Time, I suppose.”

  “Enough games. What do you want?” I hated feeling toyed with. Waffling between anger and heartache, I wanted to run away from the scene but couldn’t.

  “Ah, now there is Alice from before. I need that Alice’s help.”

  “That Alice doesn’t exist anymore. And why would she help you, all things considered?”

  “Because of all things considered.”

  I looked deeply into his blue eyes. “I don’t think that interests her anymore.”

  “Then there is nothing more for us to discuss.”

  “The pocket watch.”

  “Fine. I’ll have the boy return it, and you can be on your way.”

  That was it? Too easy. Why did he need my help? What kind of trouble was he in? “Fine.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll hear another case while we wait.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Of course not. You haven’t for a long time, have you?”

  I glanced up at him. I caught that old look in his eye, that heartbroken man who had once loved me—whom I had once loved—but he looked away.

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “Yes, of course, you’re right about that. It’s all on me, isn’t it?” he replied then turned away. “Robert, bring him in,” William called to one his guards.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How goes the dusting, Alice? I heard you were out shopping with His Grace this morning. Must be scintillating work. Honest work, of course. Honest as they come, aren’t you, Alice?” he snapped.

  “What do you know about being honest or true?”

  He brushed off the question. “Of course, business is busy here, not that you’d be interested. With the Crystal Palace visitors, there is a lot to manage. Hard work. So much work, in fact, that you get the impression that someone had originally intended it to be managed by two people, not one. Of course, that probably doesn’t matter to you. And then there are the airship races. My coffers are filling every day. So many people just love to bid what they cannot afford.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “Ah, here we go,” William said. “Yet another gambler with empty pockets.”

  Two guards came in dragging a man between them. They dropped him on the floor. His top hat fell from his head and rolled to my feet.

  I gasped. “Henry.”

  “Alice?” Henry whispered, turning to look up at me. His face was bloody and broken. “What are you doing amongst these mad people?”

  “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?” I shot back.

  “He’s mad, of course. Why else would he be here?” William answered with a laugh. “We’re all mad here.”

  I glared at William then bent to pick up the hat.

  “Now, I’m afraid your hatter friend owes one of my associates a considerable amount of money. I was able to intervene, but, unfortunately, not before the good hatter got himself worked over. How much does he owe?” William asked, shooting a look to one of his henchmen.

  “More than he’s worth,” the man replied.

  Henry’s suit was torn, the sleeve ripped, the shirt open. One eye was red and puffy, blood leaking from his lip.

  “Henry, you didn’t,” I whispered.

  “He did. And I’m sure Alice from before remembers what’s done with gamblers who cannot pay,” William said.

  “Oh no. Not his fingers. His hands are his livelihood. He can repay the debt. His hats are in such demand that he has taken on an apprentice. He can pay the debt. I’ll pay as well.”

  “I’m so sorry, Alice. I was just trying to—” Henry began but William cut him off.

  “And how long will that take? Half a year, perhaps? My associate wants to take six fingers now. That’s the standard. We can do so and be done with the matter.”

  “William, don’t you dare,” I growled.

  “Alice, I’m so sorry. I wanted to raise enough money to take Bess to Bath. The winters are so hard on her. I had a tip on one of the racers—”

  I raised my hand to silence Henry then turned on William. “All right. What do you want?”


  “As I said, your help.”

  “No, Alice. Don’t. You’re done with that. Please. Not for me,” Henry said.

  “How touching. But none of your business,” William told Henry. He then turned to his guards. “Throw him out.”

  “Alice, whatever he wants, say no,” Henry pleaded.

  I handed Henry his hat then turned to William. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

  William smiled.

  “Alice, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. Alice?” Henry called as they dragged him away.

  “Nice chap, but he’s a miserable gambler,” William said.

  “Poor methods, but a noble reason. He’d do anything for Bess, not something you’d understand, of course. Now, what do you want?”

  “I have a problem. The situation has become…delicate. I need someone with your talents.”

  “I have many talents, as you mentioned. Shall I do your shopping for you? I’m also very adept at dusting, pressing clothes—”

  “You know what I mean,” he said, turning to pluck a date out of a bowl on the table sitting beside his chaise.

  “I don’t have those talents anymore.”

  “No?” he asked, his back turned to me. A second later, he turned and lobbed a dagger at me. The movement was quick, but something mean in me took over.

  I reached out and deftly caught the blade by the handle.

  I threw the knife to the ground.

  “Stop it,” I said.

  “Stop what?” he asked, his gaze steady. “Are you still carrying her?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “William came close to me and gently slid his hand under my apron to pull out the dagger hidden there. “I can still tell when you’re lying,” he said. “Of course you carry her. We never stray far from our center. I need your help, Alice. And not the Alice from this morning. You know who I need.”

  “And if I say no?” I was trembling and not with anger. I hadn’t been this close to him in months, hadn’t felt his touch in so long, and in that instant, I realized how terribly I missed him. The feeling confused and thrilled me.