The Nutcracker Bleeds (20 page)

The
toy spoke… It moved on its own… It even had completed itself, turning a regular
prototype into something wildly exotic. What sort of evil dream was this?

“Isn’t
this grand?” the doll asked gleefully, throwing its hands. “How many
toys–especially the rejected ones–get to look their father in his big, enormous
eye and at the very same time, know that he realizes it’s looking back at him?”

The
monstrous grin that emerged on the doll’s face was horrifying. The laugh that broke
through that grin was even worse.

Euan’s
eyes widened as he watched the doll move about within the sight of his one good
orb. This was much too unpleasant to be a dream.

It’s
really happened
,
he thought.
The curse was real…

When
he’d purchased the nutcracker off the man who seemed too jittery to even hold
it, the man had told him that the decorative soldier was rumored to have a
curse placed upon it–that it was
alive
and that it made other toys come
alive as well. In fact, that was the very thing that had sold the nutcracker
doll. Sure, it was alluring by itself, seeming enchanted–He could feel it to
simply hold the doll!–but what Euan had hoped for most was that the tale of the
curse was true. His beloved Olivia would finally have reality out of her fantasy
world. Of course, he’d not truly believed at the time.

But
now that he looked on at this doll that was so obviously alive–no strings
attached, made by his own hands–he was shaken with fear. Still, those ideas of
the curse were the man’s assumptions, not quite right with the truth.

“I
feel a bit wronged, knowing that I wasn’t good enough for you. I suppose you’d
say I’m bitter.” The doll put a hand thoughtfully to its chin. “But I guess you
weren’t useless. You did teach me one thing.
Hatred
.”

Euan
focused on something that was hanging on the doll’s back, but in all this
disarray, he could not see what it was.

“What
is that old saying?” the sensual voice of the doll growled. “Oh yes. An eye for
an eye?”

The
misfit toy moved closer and gripped the eyelid of Euan’s good eye, giving it a
tug. The man gave a muffled groan of pain. The doll laughed as he released the
flap of skin.

“But
there’s a better one than that. Do you know it, father? It’s a
head for a
head
.”

The
doll withdrew the razorblade from its back, opening it to its full length. At
the sight of it, Euan began to squirm once more, to no avail. The cold edge of
the razor touched the skin of his neck.

“Yes.
A head for a head,” Edge said, his grin and eyes gleaming. “You gave me mine.
Allow me to
take
yours!”

1

There
were other children inside the Ellington house other than Olivia–young ones who
also liked to make fantasies with their own toys. Olivia had a habit of wanting
to adopt every doll that she saw, so to keep her sibling’s toys from
disappearing, they had their own room for play on the second floor.

No
matter how much Euan adored his precious Olivia, he never slacked in creating
masterpieces for the other children as well. The playroom was filled with dolls
and soldiers, but the centerpiece was a grand dollhouse that stood three
stories high and had a clock tower set at the top, which always kept perfect
time. This had been a special gift for Olivia’s younger sister Elizabeth, since
she had two brothers to rival. Olivia had loved this dollhouse, and her uncle
had promised her that one day she’d have one just as grand.

Anne
remembered the fort of books that the Lady Sovereign had made her palace. There
had been a clock atop it. Perhaps Olivia had been trying to duplicate this
house?

Olivia
was not allowed to play in her siblings’ room without Anne’s supervision, so
the nurse had seen the inside of it many times. While the girl in her care had
fond memories of the place, Anne’s were not so pleasant. She spent time there,
sitting on a little stool, talking to–or trying to
avoid
talking to–Edna
Callahan, nanny to the other children. To Anne, just a nosy, old biddy.

Oh
yes, we all know about you, pretty girl. You’re after Todd, aren’t you? Well,
you might have a fair shot, I suppose. A young man like that likely isn’t
interested in anything more than a pretty face and something shapely he can
wear on his arm.

The
very thought of it made Anne fume, but now was not the time to consider matters
that wouldn’t help her correct her current problem. Her business was helping
Armand, no matter how much she grew to loathe him by the instant. That was, at
least, what she’d insisted to herself.

Because,
whether he knew it or not, he was going to help her get out of this.

Keeping
her mouth shut sullenly, she’d led him carefully through the shafts, following
the direction of the vents toward the toy room–or, more appropriately to this
situation, Princess Pirlipat’s kingdom.

They
were not far from the grate when they began to meet groups of toys in the
passages, traveling away from their destination. Many of them wore cloths over
their heads and bodies like shrouds. Different sorts of toys were nearly
indistinguishable in the multitude. They carried bundles on their backs, some
even with carts made of roller–skates or wooden horses, and they hardly glanced
at Anne and Armand at all.

The
nutcracker made her stay behind him as they fought against the flow of the
traffic. Still, they remained mostly unnoticed even as they pushed past the others.
The Shaman had mentioned that many of the toys from all over the house were
journeying to the Lady’s realm. It appeared that he was right.

Anne
wanted to reach out and grab one of them, to ask why they were leaving, but she
dared not. It would draw too much attention to herself. She didn’t expect
Armand would ask or even care to know, so she would just have to continue on
ignorantly. Instead, she held tightly to the leather strap that held the screw
to Armand’s hip. There would be no losing him.

When
they finally reached the destined vent, it had been removed completely to make
way for those leaving through it. There were no soldiers manning the space like
in the Lady’s realm.

Armand
finally managed to push his way through the toys that stubbornly refused to
acknowledge their existence. Anne could breathe comfortably again. They came
out into the open space of the room that was illuminated by flickering
lamplight, blown by some strange wind–unseen and unfelt.

The
room was a wreck. Dolls and stuffed things were rummaging through everything,
taking clothes and whatever else they could find. There was little order here,
with only a few soldiers to stop what was going on. It seemed that many of the
dolls and soldiers had already left, for most of what remained here were object
toys–trains, marbles, rubber balls, and puzzles.

Perhaps
their task would be just as Armand had said. It would be easy to do what they
had come here to do. As far as she could see, the princess’s home was
unguarded.

The two
of them drifted off to the side and into the shadows beneath a table. There,
they observed the area a moment before either of them spoke.

“What
are we to do?” Anne asked quietly.

Armand
looked down into her eyes, and they told her that she was a bit more wary of
him than she’d been just before. She’d not forgiven him for his actions toward
her earlier–not forgotten his irritated kiss–but she had to try extremely hard
to present her displeasure to him. He could see that as well.

“Would
you like me to wait somewhere so that I won’t be in your way?” she asked.

“No,
I want you to come with me,” he said without hesitation. “I want you to
watch
.”

“What?”
she asked, hardly able to get it out.

“I
want you to see what they really are.
All
they are.”

There
was a tinge of wavering pleasure in his voice. Not only was he perfectly
willing to do this deed he’d promised to do, she saw now that he was actually
anticipating it! She was disgusted once again, just like his refusal to help
the bound ballerina doll.

Just
a doll, Anne
,
she reminded herself.
They’re all just dolls. Even him
. But, that just
wasn’t true, was it?

“How
are you going to do it?” she inquired.

“I’m
going to walk inside, find the princess doll, and it’ll be done.”

The
nutcracker’s face was very serious as he spoke. Then again, it always was. He
crossed his arms as if the job would be as simple as that. She crossed her arms
as well, looking up at him, challenging his method. The flickering light danced
over them both. How could anything be so easy? There would certainly be some
sort of consequences.

“Still,
we can’t have you getting hurt, now can we?” he considered. “Nor can we have
you found out.”

He
was right about that, and she was glad to hear him say it. Yes, he wanted to be
kept safe at all cost. Was it really going to be as easy as he’d indicated?
Anne tried to remember what she knew about Elizabeth’s toys. She had never paid
much attention, but–

“Oh
my…” she said suddenly, putting a hand to her mouth, as a sudden thought hit
her

Armand
was watching her, but she had completely drifted off from him, and did not
notice how he was looking at her, waiting patiently. He waited to see if she
would speak without being pushed.

“I
remember Elizabeth’s doll, Princess Pirlipat,” she said finally. “I’ve watched
her play for hours with that house but I simply didn’t think of it until now.”

He
didn’t seem to be following her. Perhaps now he knew what it was like to fall
behind. Or maybe it was just another thing to get aggravated about.

Her
eyes were wide when she looked up at him.

“I
forgot about something.”

“That
would be?” he inquired flatly.

Anne
shook her head once more as she recalled it.

“
The
Three
,” she said.

2

Sitting
on a throne of wood that was lacquered over with gold paint, licked by the light
of the candles inside the castle–house, the lovely princess Pirlipat was
apprehensive.

She
was a pampered doll, loved above all others by her mistress, young Elizabeth.
Her brown hair was long and in perfect curls, adorned with two pink ribbons.
Her dress was of the same color, puffy sleeves and a long skirt, decorated with
bows.

No
good would have come from the child seeing her favorite girl like this, with
her brow furrowed so intensely that it seemed the porcelain might crack. Her
delicate head resting in a gloved hand, she sighed greatly. Things were not
right within her kingdom. It was falling apart. Some were still loyal to her,
but many had fled to seek the protection of the Lady. Perhaps it was just best
to let them go. If she’d not been so stubborn and dedicated to her crown, she
might have gone herself, because something was coming. She didn’t know what it
was, but it was something terrible. She trusted her intuition.

“Is
there something wrong, princess?”

Pirlipat
lifted her head, seeming to suddenly realize that she was sitting in her own
throne room. She looked up the one who addressed her, into the concerned blue
gaze of Lakke.

The
soldier was always so concerned about her feelings. This was what she liked
most about him. Pirlipat opened her mouth to insist that she was fine, but was
swiftly interrupted before she’d even begun.

“That’s
a rather imbecilic question,” came the voice of Rivere, drifting from where he
stood at the window. He was peering out at the toys below who were gathering useful
items before heading into the dark shafts. “Everyone is leaving and you have
the nerve to ask her majesty if something is
wrong
?”

“As
long as some still remain, there is hope,” Lakke insisted.

Rivere
‘hmph’d’ in reply.

To
the side, the princess’s third guardian stood silently.

They
were a fine trio. Wooden dolls with handsome faces of polished glass from the
same mold. They each stood seven and a half inches tall. Their hair was real;
their clothes were cloth, even down to their gloves. The first was with golden
hair and kind, blue eyes of glass. The second with flaming red hair and intense
green eyes. The third, brown–haired with firm, russet orbs. Lakke, Rivere, and
Brooke. Created by Euan; named by Euan. The three of them were soldiers worthy
of the Lady Sovereign’s envy.

Pirlipat
had been married to all three of them at some time or another by Elizabeth,
kissed them all many times, but it only led to confusion. She would never know which
one she truly loved. Each one was so very different. She supposed, actually,
that she loved them all, just knowing for certain that they would always be
with her.

“We
should be out there right now trying to convince them to stay,” Rivere growled,
slamming his fist against the wall. “If they go to the Lady, they will be the
direct target of the rodents! Have they not seen that we have kept them safe
all this time?”

“Be
calm,” Pirlipat instructed, lowering her head to look at her hands in her lap.
“If they want to go, we have to let them. It is not our right to stand in their
way.”

“She’s
right,” said Lakke, looking at his brother from beneath his blond hair. “Those
who are truly loyal will stay, and at least the princess will be safe.”

Rivere
crossed his arms like a spoiled child, closing his emerald eyes briefly. “If
someone doesn’t stand up and tell them they’re making a mistake, they will
all
go! Perhaps they are simply waiting for the princess to make an appearance
and tell them to stay! If we do not make this known, even the loyal ones will
leave!”

The
princess was silent a moment. She did not want to stand in the way of the toys
she had once governed, but would it do to beg them to stay now?

Pirlipat
let her eyes drift across the room, locking finally on the quiet, dark–haired
soldier that stood there against the wall. When Lakke and Rivere got into
disagreements, their brother hardly participated. He just stood away as if he
was lost elsewhere in something so much deeper than anything the rest of them
saw. But the princess knew he was taking it all in. He spoke when he saw the
need. Sometimes though, she found that he needed a push.

“What
do you think, Brooke?”

The
doll’s brown eyes drifted to his princess, looking
through
her. What was
he thinking? A brief excitement rushed throughout her for the mystery of it.
Finally, he opened his mouth.

“It
is what Her Majesty decides.”

That
was all he said.

“Fine,
then. Fine!” Rivere threw his hands. “Let’s just twiddle our thumbs until we’re
all that’s bloody left!”

Pirlipat
raised a hand as if to console the very aggravated Rivere, but he was too far
away. The brother with the flaming temper left the chamber, no doubt going off
to pound the wall in his fury. Lakke knelt before the throne, taking the
princess’s fragile hand.

“He
will come around,” he promised her. “All will be well.”

At
that, the princess couldn’t help but smile. With the three at her side, she
knew that, one way or another, things would come out alright. The kingdom would
not fall completely, and whatever evil was coming could be averted.

3

From
the side, Brooke watched everything. He heard every word. He saw Rivere get
angry. He saw Lakke try to shut him down. He saw the worry in the eyes of the
princess, but he felt nothing.