(no subject)
III.
The two gunmen retired not long after that, leaving Holmes with the table and the drink he was still pretending to nurse. Other patrons glanced his way occasionally, but for the most part he was ignored. He watched the various musical acts while they were performing and studied the room when they weren’t; the patterned wallpaper took on an uncomfortably familiar shade of midnight blue in the light of the muted gas lamps, and he tried not to think about chains and china and voices that snarled in the dark.
Gradually, the other customers drifted off to their evening accommodations, some with brightly dressed females on their arms. The bar tender wiped down his glasses and put the bottles away. Someone began to tackle the dusty clutter of the floor with an old broom.
Thomas emerged from wherever he’d been and took a seat at Holmes’ table.
“I want to speak with you,” he said quietly, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner as though afraid of being overheard. The fact that they were virtually alone in the room didn’t seem to matter.
“By all means.”
Thomas took a moment to scrub a hand through his rainbow-colored hair. His eyes had lost their limpid indifference, but he still looked tired and faded and too young to be either. “Lily told me why you’ve come,” he began eventually, in an accent markedly different from everyone else’s. “I want to help you.”
Holmes braced his elbows on the table and leaned forward as well, grey eyes sharp and serious. “You’re the White knight who saved Alice from capture the last time she was here, aren’t you?”
Thomas blinked, surprised. “Yes,” he confessed warily, “but how could you possibly have known? I’m hardly the only soldier to retire from the service. What with all the sides in the war, we’re so frequently hired only to be unemployed again.”
“When Alice returned to her own side, she told her story to a friend who wrote it down in a book. I recognized your description. I am a detective; it’s my job to piece together what I can.” Thomas nodded slowly. Functionality was something everyone in this world could relate to.
“Then your purpose is to find her,” he mused. “That’s why you’re here. I understand.”
“You expressed an interest in helping me.”
Thomas glanced around the room carefully once more. “Yes. I don’t know where she is, or even why she was brought back. But she’s … something of a legend here, I suppose you could say. They will not be able to keep her return a secret for long, not to anyone in a position to know. And I know of someone who is in exactly such a position. He’s - ah -- rather eccentric, as it were.” Something about the confession seemed to make Thomas nervous, and he began fiddling distractedly with the cuffs of his sleeves. “He doesn’t usually consent to see visitors. You’ll need an introduction from someone he’s already acquainted with - I can provide that for you.”
“I get the impression that there will be trouble for you if anyone finds out about this,” Holmes observed for the second time that evening. Thomas smiled faintly. “Why take the risk?”
The former knight gazed pensively at some unseen point over Holmes’ shoulder. “Things weren’t always the way they are now,” he said. “Once, my people had honor.” He was silent for a long time, and Holmes thought he’d finished. But then: “It is a knight’s duty to protect his queen, Mr. Holmes, and the last time Alice was here, she earned her crown. It was just a game, of course, but then - isn’t it all?” His eyes returned to his companion’s face, his thoughts to the task at hand. “I cannot explain; perhaps you will understand someday, when you no longer have anything left to lose.” He stood then, glancing cautiously towards the door. “I would advise you take some rest, sir; it’s a long ride, and we’ll need an early start. I will be waiting for you out behind the stables.”
“When it’s Time to Go?” Holmes guessed, standing as well.
Thomas nodded seriously and turned to depart. “’Til then.”
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Next Chapter >>
The two gunmen retired not long after that, leaving Holmes with the table and the drink he was still pretending to nurse. Other patrons glanced his way occasionally, but for the most part he was ignored. He watched the various musical acts while they were performing and studied the room when they weren’t; the patterned wallpaper took on an uncomfortably familiar shade of midnight blue in the light of the muted gas lamps, and he tried not to think about chains and china and voices that snarled in the dark.
Gradually, the other customers drifted off to their evening accommodations, some with brightly dressed females on their arms. The bar tender wiped down his glasses and put the bottles away. Someone began to tackle the dusty clutter of the floor with an old broom.
Thomas emerged from wherever he’d been and took a seat at Holmes’ table.
“I want to speak with you,” he said quietly, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner as though afraid of being overheard. The fact that they were virtually alone in the room didn’t seem to matter.
“By all means.”
Thomas took a moment to scrub a hand through his rainbow-colored hair. His eyes had lost their limpid indifference, but he still looked tired and faded and too young to be either. “Lily told me why you’ve come,” he began eventually, in an accent markedly different from everyone else’s. “I want to help you.”
Holmes braced his elbows on the table and leaned forward as well, grey eyes sharp and serious. “You’re the White knight who saved Alice from capture the last time she was here, aren’t you?”
Thomas blinked, surprised. “Yes,” he confessed warily, “but how could you possibly have known? I’m hardly the only soldier to retire from the service. What with all the sides in the war, we’re so frequently hired only to be unemployed again.”
“When Alice returned to her own side, she told her story to a friend who wrote it down in a book. I recognized your description. I am a detective; it’s my job to piece together what I can.” Thomas nodded slowly. Functionality was something everyone in this world could relate to.
“Then your purpose is to find her,” he mused. “That’s why you’re here. I understand.”
“You expressed an interest in helping me.”
Thomas glanced around the room carefully once more. “Yes. I don’t know where she is, or even why she was brought back. But she’s … something of a legend here, I suppose you could say. They will not be able to keep her return a secret for long, not to anyone in a position to know. And I know of someone who is in exactly such a position. He’s - ah -- rather eccentric, as it were.” Something about the confession seemed to make Thomas nervous, and he began fiddling distractedly with the cuffs of his sleeves. “He doesn’t usually consent to see visitors. You’ll need an introduction from someone he’s already acquainted with - I can provide that for you.”
“I get the impression that there will be trouble for you if anyone finds out about this,” Holmes observed for the second time that evening. Thomas smiled faintly. “Why take the risk?”
The former knight gazed pensively at some unseen point over Holmes’ shoulder. “Things weren’t always the way they are now,” he said. “Once, my people had honor.” He was silent for a long time, and Holmes thought he’d finished. But then: “It is a knight’s duty to protect his queen, Mr. Holmes, and the last time Alice was here, she earned her crown. It was just a game, of course, but then - isn’t it all?” His eyes returned to his companion’s face, his thoughts to the task at hand. “I cannot explain; perhaps you will understand someday, when you no longer have anything left to lose.” He stood then, glancing cautiously towards the door. “I would advise you take some rest, sir; it’s a long ride, and we’ll need an early start. I will be waiting for you out behind the stables.”
“When it’s Time to Go?” Holmes guessed, standing as well.
Thomas nodded seriously and turned to depart. “’Til then.”
___________________________________________________
Next Chapter >>