the windows, landing on the sidewalk in a shower of shattered glass.
CHAPTER 30
D RESSED IN her wedding gown, Alice stood before a full-length mirror in the vestry of Westminster Abbey. In less than half an hour she would be married to a prince, raised to the highest ranks of society’s esteem without giving her heart to a man she neither disliked nor loved. But her future seemed as uncertain as her past had once been.
The room began to vibrate with the strains of the organ, but she hardly noticed. She reached out toward the mirror. Her fingers touched the cold reflective surface and she stood fingertip to fingertip with her mirrored image. What more had she expected? For her hand to pass into the mirror? Ridiculous. A knock came at the door. Mrs. Liddell bustled in, holding the skirts of her gown to prevent them from dragging on the floor, and Alice was glad to be rescued from her solitude.
“It’s time, dear. It’s time. I can hardly believe it!” “Nor I,” Alice said, feigning breathless excitement.
She kissed her mother on the cheek and together they walked to the abbey’s atrium, where bridesmaids and grooms-men waited to make their entrance, along with Dean Liddell, who would escort his daughter
down the aisle.
“To think that the next time we speak, you’ll be married to a prince,” Mrs. Liddell sighed. “And you’ll be a mother-in-law to one.”
“It tickles me to be reminded of it! You’ve made me terribly happy, Alice.”
With a last hug, Mrs. Liddell left to take her seat next to the rest of the family at the front of the abbey. The wedding march began, and bridesmaids and grooms-men started down the aisle a pair at a time.
Alice peeked out at the guests. Queen Victoria and her entourage occupied the first few pews on the right side of the church. A buffer of soldiers separated the queen from the rest of the guests, who completely filled the abbey. In the rear of the church, newspaper reporters jotted notes. All were turned in their seats, waiting with anticipation for Alice to make her entrance. But she had wanted to take this opportunity to spy on her guests. Why? Because she was looking for somebody, one face in particular. She’d been wondering if he would show up today as mysteriously as he had at her engagement party. Wasn’t that him, standing in the shadows underneath the left balcony? She couldn’t see his face clearly, but-
Dean Liddell held out his arm for her. She was being such a fool. Why torture herself over a stranger just because he had a few scars on his face? Lots of men probably had similar scars. It signified nothing. Likely, the man at the engagement party had just been a rival of Leopold’s and wanted to show him up with his dancing. She took hold of her father’s elbow.
“Alice, my love,” said the dean, “if it were anybody else marrying into such a public family, I should worry whether they were up to it. But not so with you. I suspect that not only will you continue to make Prince Leopold proud, and hold his love fast, but that you will teach him more about acting as a force for good in the world than I, merely as dean of his college, could have ever hoped to accomplish. He is lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, Father.”
With measured steps, father and daughter started down the aisle. Alice’s face showed no sign of concern, no hint of the consternation that had been plaguing her since the masquerade. One might have assumed that all her thoughts were on the momentous occasion at hand, which was certainly what Prince Leopold believed. Dressed in full military uniform, ancestral sword at his hip, he stood before the high altar with the archbishop. Dean Liddell kissed Alice lightly on the cheek and deposited her at Leopold’s side, then padded to his seat next to his wife.
Leopold smiled at his bride. It was such a shy, awed, pleased, and overwhelmed smile that it fairly overwhelmed her. Alice feared he was making more of her than he ought, that not loving him wouldn’t be the hardest part of their coming years together; it would be living up to his estimation of her. She turned
to face the archbishop. Behind her, pews creaked, throats cleared. The archbishop began to speak, but
Alice hardly heard a word he said.
“If there is anyone here who objects to this union, let him speak now or forever hold his peace,” the archbishop intoned.
Alice had a strong desire to glance toward the left balcony, to where she imagined the scarred man was standing, a man whose name she had with great effort tried to erase from her memory and which she didn’t dare say to herself even now, as if to do so would be to conjure a figure whose nonexistence meant everything to her present and future happiness in England.
She heard herself repeating the archbishop’s words without comprehending their meaning. The vows. I’ve taken my vows. And now it’s Leopold’s turn. She stood listening to the alternating timbres and resonances of the men’s voices.
Then something strange happened. It was as if a gathering storm, moments from breaking, had sucked up all the oxygen from the enormous room, only to unleash itself with that much more vengeance. Alice
would later swear that she had felt it coming beforehand, had felt something before the stained-glass windows on both sides of the abbey imploded as the strangest-looking creatures broke through them and landed amid the shards and crumbs of colored glass. Guests ran screaming toward the exits, trampling
one another in their haste. Others fell to their knees and prayed to be delivered safely from harm.
In the seconds between the shattering of glass and the first casualty, soldiers surrounded Queen Victoria and hustled her through a door normally reserved for the archbishop, who hurried after her with breathless prayers. Prince Leopold put a protective arm around his fiancee, but she shrugged it off, unthinking, and now stood watching the cat-like beast fight his way toward her, swatting soldiers and policemen out of his way, raking their flesh with his claws. She recognized him, as one suddenly remembers a dream hours after waking, and the recognition brought her a troubling relief, for if this thing was real…
She stood defenseless and unmoving amid the mayhem. These were not the card soldiers she remembered. Can’t remember what isn’t supposed to exist.
Leopold and Halleck were battling four of the tall, steel-limbed creatures whose backsides were protective shields engraved with card suits: clubs, spades, and diamonds. Both of the men had studied swordplay, but Alice could see that they’d be lucky to survive. Please let Leopold be all right. Whatever else is to happen, may he-
The Cat took to the air, lunging toward her. Still she didn’t move. She extended her arm, reached out to feel once and for all if this beast was real, when-
I knew it!