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gaze into the night sky and then turned slowly, scouring what he could see of the city for anything reassuring, like someone hurrying home along a pavement, or people moving in the lighted windows of the hotel opposite. There was nothing. “We don’t,” said the Red Queen. “You don’t?” said Edie shakily. “No,” replied the Gunner. “This hasn’t happened before.” George stopped turning and looked at the statues standing around him in the increasingly white cityscape. The two World War I
“Or the Raven’s led her astray,” scowled the Gunner. “George is going to be well bent out o’ shape when he finds we’ve lost her. Right. Search party. I’ll go east. She was talking about the Black Friar.” He pointed up the Embankment toward the City. The dark wall of the ice murk rose in a sinister gray mass above the rooftops. “I’ll go north; my daughters will go east and south,” said the Queen, jerking the reins on her horses. The Officer put out his hand and gripped them. “No,” he said.
He shivered. And then he REALLY shivered. “Edie,” he said, the word coming out of his mouth on a reflex. He grabbed the Queen’s hand. “Stop!” he yelled. She leaned back on the reins. The horses snorted in protest as their heads came up, and the chariot slowed as he jumped clear. “What, boy?” shouted the Queen, watching him run back along the double track made by the chariot’s wheels. “I don’t know. I felt something. Like in the hotel when we were walking through people who weren’t
helpers, right, Sue?” It was Edie’s mother. She turned her attention to the woman handing her a little disposable cup. Then she looked at the door and the stairs, face blank with lack of interest. “Right,” she agreed, taking her cupful of bright pills and swallowing them while the nurse waited and then ticked her name off a list. “Lovely jubbly.” The nurse smiled brightly. Edie’s mother’s face froze, and she pushed back in her chair so hard that the foam padding whooshed air in protest.
the touch. He gently pushed it back into place, closing the tear, and then he closed his eyes too and felt the metal beneath his touch. Where stone was granular, the metal was more like a fluid, as if he could feel the molten state that had flown into the mold. “What’s he doing?” asked the Railwayman. “Man’s work,” said the Queen. She nodded at the wall of ice murk visible over the rooftops. “And we must be on our way, for there shall be more need of healing before this is over. Come,