Artful: A Novel (18 page)

“That’s very kind of ya, mate, but I think we’ll leave him where he is. But good luck to you with that.” He gestured to Bram. “Let’s go.”

They headed out fast, taking care to shut the door behind them. Straightaway discerning which key opened it, Dodger opened the door to the east wing, and they headed through.

The smell of the place was even more pronounced, and it was all that Dodger could do not to vomit up the minimal amount of food he had in his stomach. They moved down the row of cells, looking into each and every one.

Most of the cell occupants didn’t seem to pay them any mind. They were far too wrapped up in their own respective worlds. Some, however, did give them notice. Seeing unfamiliar
faces, they
cried out, “Get us out of here! Let us go!” In some instances, Dodger actually considered doing so. Why should he leave them clapped in irons in the heart of Bedlam? But without even asking, he knew the reason: because they truly could be insane. And if that were the case, then it was possible that they might try to do damage to Dodger and Bram. He simply couldn’t take the chance of their adventure ending prematurely because he was trying to be of benefit to someone.

Besides, this whole helping others thing was a bit new to Dodger, so he figured it best to focus on the task at hand.

Then he passed one cell and stopped dead.

There was a young girl in it. She didn’t appear to be more than ten years old. Her face was wan and exhausted, and her black hair hung limply around the sides of her face. She wasn’t chained up, which seemed to bode well. “Help me,” she called to him when he stared in at her. “I’m not supposed to be here. Please.”

The Artful couldn’t stand the notion of leaving the girl behind. He had no idea how he would manage to extricate her from this place, but he knew he had to do something.

As he brought the key up, however, Bram placed a hand on his. “No,” said Bram. “Leave her be. We don’t know what her situation is.”

“I don’t care,” said Dodger. “I’m not just going to—”

“Hey! You two!”

From the hall behind him, two men were rapidly approaching. They were dressed very simply in white clothing. Clearly, they were workers here at Bedlam, burly fellows doubtless charged with keeping order amongst the inmates. And seeing two young lads wandering around on their own did not keep with their view of how the world was supposed to function.

“Stop where ya are! Right now!” They advanced on Dodger and Bram.

Dodger did the only thing he could think of. He shoved the key into the door lock and turned it as quickly as he could. He yanked the door open, and the ten-year-old girl bounded out on all fours.

That’s unusual,
thought Dodger even as he said to the girl, “Get out of here! Quickly!”

But the youngster showed no interest in departing. Instead, her eyes widened as she saw the guards and then she let out the most hellacious screech that had ever reached Dodger’s ears. He actually clapped his hands to the side of his head to mute the sound. The guards, for their part, skidded to a halt, and there was fear in their eyes.

And just before Dodger could wonder why in the world the guards were looking concerned, the girl charged them. Still on all fours, she looked like an animal, a wolf of some kind. She moved, however, with incredible alacrity, and with a howl of fury she leaped upon the larger of the two guards and sank her teeth into the base of his throat.

She was not a vampyre; that much was certain. That,
however
, did not make the slightest difference in terms of the damage that she was doing. She yanked her head back and a chunk of the guard’s skin came out with her. She spat it out, and it
landed
on the floor with a disgusting, moist sound. Blood seeped from the point where she had torn the skin loose, and the guard shrieked as he fell to his knees.

The second guard did the only thing he could: He grabbed her and endeavored to yank her clear. All it prompted her to do was turn her attentions to the attempts of the rescuer to intervene. She twisted in his grasp, pulled away, and dropped to the ground. The moment she was there, she bit into the man’s calf. He shrieked and tried to pull her off, but it did no good. With her teeth sunk into his skin, she wasn’t about to let herself be pulled away.

The Artful watched the entire encounter with wide eyes. He was so stunned he forgot to breathe. He jumped slightly as something grabbed his arm, but it was just Bram. “Let’s go,” he said briskly. “Before she remembers that we’re standing here.”

The Artful saw the wisdom in those words. There was no reason to assume that the girl would not turn her attentions to the two lads once she was done assaulting the guards. Plus they heard footsteps coming from farther down the hallway; the ruckus was obviously drawing attention. Which was ideal for them. If the berserk girl was occupying everyone here, then the boys could go elsewhere without being disturbed.

The girl did not notice they were departing. She was far too occupied trying to chew on anyone or anything that was getting within range of her.
Poor creature,
thought Dodger but then gave her no more thought beyond that. He had other things that he had to attend to, and if the girl’s actions made them simpler, then so much the better.

They sprinted down the main corridor of the east wing. Aside from the fact that the stench was even more pronounced, it seemed reasonably similar to the rest of the facility. They went from door to door, looking in as quickly as they could. They encountered various staffers, but they seemed mostly interested in going about their jobs and did nothing to challenge the lads. Dodger was grateful for this; at least, finally, something was going their way.

Reaching the end of the corridor, they sprinted up the stairs. But as they raced along, they heard a distant voice behind them. It was male and thundering and angry, and it was saying, “Did you see them? Where are they?”

The boys cast a quick, nervous glance between each other. It sounded as if the easy time they were having of it so far—minus having to knock out the doctor and siccing a feral child on two hapless workers, of course—was going to be ending fairly quickly. Someone was in pursuit of them, and it might be mere minutes before that person caught up with them.

They emerged onto the second floor and were running as quickly as they could. These doors were different from the others. There were no windows for them to peer in. Instead, there were simply narrow slot bars set into them that could be pulled aside so one could gaze through. Also, the doors seemed
heavier
and more secure. Dodger was definitely not liking the looks of this, and worse, there was simply no time for them to pull aside every single slot bar. It was time for him to take a desperate chance. Bracketing his mouth with his hands, he shouted, “Drina! It’s us! Where are you?”

It was nothing short of a desperation move, and
honestly
, by this point he wasn’t really expecting it to work. So he was astounded when a voice called out from behind one of the doors, “Dodger?” It was faint and weak, but it was most definitely she.

“He told the truth,” said Bram, sounding utterly astounded. “The vampyre told the truth. I’ll be.”

“Now I’m almost sorry he’s dead,” said Dodger, who actually was not, but he felt as if he should say something.

At that point, it was simply a matter of finding which door she was behind. This was not as easy as it sounded, because the moment Drina called out, so did a number of other patients. The cacophony of noise made it difficult for the boys to locate her; they ran from one door to the next, to the next, pressing their ears against each one and desperately trying to locate the voice’s source.

Fortunately, it only took less than thirty seconds. It seemed like far longer, but it was most definitely not.

“Dodger!” came her familiar voice from the other side of one door toward the far end of the corridor.

“Here! I’m here! Hold on!” He rummaged quickly through the keys and found the one that had opened the door down on the first floor. He prayed that it was indeed a skeleton key that gained him access to all the rooms on the floor. Perhaps because God was feeling generous, his prayer was answered. The lock on the door clicked satisfyingly open, and Dodger threw wide the door. He took a step in and gulped.

Drina was inside, all right. She was completely naked, deprived of even the slightest vestige of clothing.

“Oh dear,” said Bram. For the first time since they had joined forces, Bram actually seemed thrown off by something other than strong smells. Monsters crawling out of the woodwork to try and destroy him—that did not deter him in the slightest. But a naked young woman he clearly had no idea how to handle. Something on the ceiling drew his attention, and he focused his eyes on that.

The Artful was likewise curious about the state of the floor, wall, and ceiling, but he shook off the discomfiture much
faster
than Bram did. He stepped toward her quickly. Her hair was down and disheveled, hanging in her face. That worked out well, because she was so ashamed of her condition that she could not bring herself to look Dodger in the eye. She was seated on the floor with her legs curled up tightly against her bosom. Her hands wandered aimlessly over her body as she tried to cover herself and clearly was not sure where to place them. “I . . . I . . .,” she started to stammer.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dodger. He was quickly sliding off his overlong coat, and he draped it over her trembling shoulders. Her arms were fortunately not manacled; the chain was wrapped around her right ankle. Quickly she slid her arms in and drew the coat tightly around her. “Just hold tight, and we’ll get you out of here, Highness.”

Her head snapped around and she looked up at him, startled. “You know?” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

He nodded. “Hope that’s all right with ye.”

“Of course it’s all right. It . . .” Her voice trailed off for a moment and then in an even lower voice, she said, “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was being selfish.”

“Ya were being a girl, and that’s what gets ya that,”
Dodger
said. He was going through the keys as quickly as he could, eliminating one after the other as he tried to unlock the lock that fastened her. “Just hold on.”

Bram was glancing out the door. “Hurry up,” he said. “I think we’re about to have company.”

“Telling me to hurry doesn’t make me hurry any faster than I’m already hurryin’,” said Dodger in irritation. He turned up the last key and looked at it nervously. If it didn’t open the lock, then he didn’t have the faintest idea what the hell he was going to do.

Closing his eyes, he slid the key in and turned.

At first, nothing happened, and a great sense of tragedy swept through him. But suddenly the lock turned. Apparently there was some rust in the lock that was impeding the turn, but that only lasted for a few seconds. When he applied more force, the rust gave way and the key turned. The lock snapped open with a click that seemed to reverberate through the room.

“Did it!” said Dodger, crying out in joy. He promptly yanked the lock off and unthreaded the chain from the manacle.

Drina drew herself to her feet and immediately fell over again. “Muscles . . . my muscles aren’t working,” she managed to say.

“Take it easy, Highness. One step at a time.” He stepped in close to her, draping her arm over his shoulders, and helped her to stand.

“Dodger . . . would you please go back to calling me Drina. I don’t feel much like a Highness right now.”

“Whatever you say, Drina.” Inwardly it tickled him
slightly
that he was on a first-name basis with a princess. Him! Jack Dawkins, the Artful Dodger, a street scum who picked pockets for a living, trading first names with a princess of the realm. What had the world come to, to have reached such a strange point in time?

To be fair, the world
had
come to apparently be filled with vampyres, so . . .

Having regained her feet, this time Drina seemed a bit more sure. He helped her forward a few steps, and in moments she
was wal
king on her own. “There. That’s . . . that’s much better,”
she said.

“Good. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

He guided her toward the door, and just as they got there, two large men were blocking their way. It was two more orderlies, and it was instantly clear who they were looking for.

“’Ere ya are! And where do ye think yer goin’?” said the
larger
one of them.

The Artful tried the only thing he could think of. “You,” he said as sharply as he could, “will get out of the way of a princess of the realm, or know the consterquences of your inaction!”

“A what now?” The two larger men exchanged amused looks.

“This girl is the Princess Alexandrina Victoria!” Bram was now speaking. “And I can promise you she’ll run a whole investigation into whoever is running this place and thought that locking her up was somehow acceptable!”

The two men were not the slightest bit convinced. “Right. That’s it,” said the larger, and he grabbed Drina by the wrist.

To their surprise—“their” being both the man and
Drina
—she pulled away from him. In fact, she yanked her arm clear of his as if he were not holding on to her at all. The Artful did not hesitate, but instead brought his cane around quickly and slugged the man on the side of his head. The man did not, however, go down. He staggered, clutched at his head, and let out an angry roar. When Dodger attacked again, this time the orderly managed to catch the walking stick in his hand and yank it from Dodger’s grasp. He tossed it aside angrily and shouted, “Right! That’s enough out of you!”

Drina leaped forward, her arm cocked back, and she threw a vicious punch. It caught the bigger man on his chin. His head snapped around, his eyes rolled up, and with nothing but a loud sigh he sank unconscious to the floor.

His associate looked on in shock and then turned to flee the room. He only got two feet, though, because Bram had thrown himself forward to block him, and the man tripped over the lad. He went down hard, and Bram grabbed the fallen cane, leaped onto his back, and started pounding away with the stick. He
delivered
several resounding shots to the back of his head before he threw Bram off. Before the man could get up, though,
Drina
was upon him . . . and pounding on him. Her small fists were
flying
with remarkable speed and strength. The Artful and Bram watched in astonishment as Drina drove the man into unconsciousness. And even then, she was not done. She grabbed up the fallen chain and swung it, prepared to slam him in the head with the heavy iron. Quickly, Dodger ran forward and grabbed her hands. “What’re you doing?” he cried out.