He charged straight at the Doomsine warriors in the street, his whirring wrist-blades held out in front of him. Doink! Patingk! Ping! The enemies’ missiles ricocheted off his blades, which stuttered and slowed when one of the warriors failed to get out of his way. But now they were on the move, he and Weaver and Molly hurrying down the street, and the Milliner might have considered this an improvement in his family’s situation if enemy fire hadn’t been coming at them from every direction, blasting out of heavily covered positions.
A flash of light: An orb generator came rocketing toward them. “Take cover!”
Father, mother, and daughter dove to the ground as one. Krachboooooooooooooooooooooooffffsh!
The quiet that settled after the explosion might have belonged to the grave, but soon they heard the thump of debris raining down around them. Every tent in the camp had collapsed. The Doomsines they’d been battling just a moment before were standing in stupefied silence, looking off at the horizon. Hatter motioned for Weaver and Molly to crawl under the nearest tent and he crawled in after them. Whatever was going on outside, if it lasted long enough, they might be able to slip from one tent to another, unnoticed, and escape to the edge of camp.
Arch was being entertained by wives
numbered nine, sixteen, twenty-three, and thirty-two when a
minister rushed in and—
“Your Majesty,” the minister said, the rest of his words lost in
the roar and rumble of an engine that grew increasingly louder
until it was directly outside the tent. The minister finished
speaking, the engine cut off, and Redd flounced in followed by The
Cat, Vollrath, Siren Hecht, and Alistaire Poole. “What, back
already?” Arch said, not quite hiding his annoyance. “Grouchy
because I interrupted your family frolic, Archy?” Redd smirked. “I
think I feel a pang of jealousy.”
“They’re my wives, Redd. They mean nothing to me.” “Really? Then
you won’t mind if I…” Redd made as if to throw her scepter as she
would a spear. Boils and hairy cysts and mustaches shot out from
its shriveled heart and lodged on the faces of the four wives,
spoiling their pretty looks. “There, that’s better.” Redd turned
back to Arch and wiggled her scepter. “Do you know what this
is?”
“It looks like a rotten bedpost that should have been incinerated
long ago.” “Close. It’s the scepter meant for me as queen,
retrieved from my Looking Glass—” Gunplay erupted outside. Arch
whistled for Ripkins and Blister, but they were not at their usual
posts. “Looking for these two?” Redd asked, and in rolled the
bodyguards, contained in a ball of clear, impenetrable glass she
had conjured. “I assume they have special talents if you’ve made
them your personal guards, Archy. I’m going to keep them secure
until I know what these talents are and how I can