Locked

Chapter Nineteen

Will felt as though a pile of bricks had been dumped on his head. A massive, head-spinning headache occupied his entire brain capacity. He kept his eyes closed another moment, trying to let the pain subside. He focused what little energy he possessed on his other senses. A cool breeze made its way through his thin coat, the fresh air a gentle distraction from the sticky and damp clothing he wore. His hair ruffled in the breeze, and the faint smells of salt and fish swarmed his nostrils. Will focused on the earth beneath him; he was lying on uneven ground. Stone. In between cracks he could feel water seeping into his coat: a side-effect of the recent rains.

Will opened his eyes. Morning sun was creeping over the horizon, casting an orange tinge over the city. As his eyes adjusted to the light, and the obnoxious headache faded, Will could begin to process his surroundings. He was at the docks, down by the shipyards. Guessing by the sun and the lack of people, it was very early in the morning. Fisherman would be starting their day soon. He looked down at his own apparel; expensive breeches and a gold-lined overcoat suggested he'd been at a ball. He noticed the most curious thing: he held a pistol in his right hand. He turned it over in his hands. It was a very fine pistol; very expensive, but not uncommon in London. He wondered where he had gotten it.

A wave of memories rushed over him; images flashed through his mind. People dancing the waltz: a ball. The Autumn Ball. Screaming; his own? A gunshot, red, waves. He felt his neck: it was tender and a little swollen.

He squinted. A purple heap was sprawled on the pier. Purple? What a curious colour to find on a wharf. He couldn't wrap his brain around it, but something felt wrong about the whole scene. His

head hurt too much to even try to remember what had happened, or even how whatever it was had happened. Purple...? Indigo...? Maybe it's clothing...? He racked his brain for another train of thought. Violet...why is that familiar? His eyes widened with surprise and realization: Violet! A gunshot exploded in his head and he looked down at the pistol in his hand. NO! He screamed inside his head, this can't be!

Will dropped the pistol, eliciting a wrenching pain from his wrist. "Hey, you! Over there!"

Will spun to see an old man in simple garb walking warily towards him.

Will didn't answer. He couldn't. The man must have noticed V on the pier, because he began running and yelling at the top of his lungs.

"You blasted man! Step away from that barker!"

Will obeyed; he forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly in the process. By that time, the old man was nearly upon him.

"Fetch a blue bottle! Someone!"

Will's eyes glazed over. From the discovery of the pistol to the man yelling at him, Will still hadn't processed the facts in front of him.

Several more fishermen came to check out the commotion. The old man reached V and was checking her over. By now the tiny pier was surrounded by curious on lookers. Someone had fetched a policeman, who, upon arrival of the scene, took it upon himself to be crowd control. The next half hour passed in a blur. More policemen showed up, and a nearby doctor. It wasn't common for a lady in such an expensive gown to be found unconscious by the wharf.

Several men pushed Will to his stomach. He obliged, merely because he wasn't fully aware of the situation. Only a mild wince escaped his lips as they restrained his wrists behind his back

with irons. Another policeman gingerly picked up the fallen pistol. Will lay on the ground, his eyes surveying the crowd, when he picked out a familiar face.

Mr. Mulberry was pushing his way through the crowd. He was headed directly for V. He paused, only long enough to look at his master in a way that told Will exactly how he himself felt – stupefied and aghast. Their expressions matched for a moment, before Mr. Mulberry tore his gaze away and left Will to his own thoughts.

A policeman pulled Will to his feet. As he was shoved into an awaiting carriage, he heard the doctor yell out, "She's still alive!"

Then the door was shut in his face, and Will finally had the opportunity to process the unfolded events.