In The Backalley's Of Whitechapel Road.

[ulricvonkatz]

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from her pallid, gaunt cheeks and her hauntingly blue eyes, and turned towards leaving. "I understand, miss Ellis. Whatever it is your Father is threatening or seeks to do, it must clearly be a crime most monstrous if it forces you into penury as great as this. Please, reconsider my offer, and at least find better accomodation." he said, with a note of pleading in his voice. He found himself suprised a little by his desperation, and tried to convince himself it was purely out of charitable concern for someone in a bad situation.

Elai'Syra slowly padded to where he was standing again, having enjoyed the bone shared with her by Anquorn, and she purred softly as she curled herself around Ulric's legs gently. "You would be wise not to forget her." she purred silkily. His cheeks coloured, but he frowned, and forced himself to be firm.

Seeing her shivering, he decided it was best to make it a brief parting, and not overly long or maudlin. Why is it so hard to leave? he wondered.

"Ah...farewell, then. I hope our next meeting will be in better circumstances." he said, with a wry smile, and turned to step through the door.

Elai'syra padded after him, casting one long look behind her, scanning the room, and growling.

[Emmalena Louisa Ellis]

It was colder than night. The frost from the early winds merged itself with the blanket of fog over the city, making the sky unusually clear. From the window sill of the small upper room a pair of Prussian blue eyes traced the buildings with her finger idly in a bid to distract herself from the chill. Her blanket or cloak now covered the other figure of a fox lying guarding the door bellow. His eyes had closed dozing for a few hours, his ears readily pricked if she requested aid.



It was not unusual for Emmalena to sit alone on the rocking chair by the window, wearing much less then the cotton night dress she had managed to bundle into the worn leather trunk; that now stood in the opposite corner of the room; next to the old vanity table flaked with white paint and faded yellow flowers dating back to the 1740s. The mirror in places was cracked but she could observe to some degree and satisfaction her form. Day on day her shape had changed, her hair loosing its original lustre and her eyes becoming paler and tired. She remembered idly how she had looked in alarm at her new appearance. She barely looked now.

The trunk itself only contained two dresses. The purple one she had worn that day lay like a curtain on the stool, the other a soft green with gauze sleeves remained in the trunk - "It would be better in the Spring." Bessie had said as they lifted it from the crisp tissue paper and ribbons in the overlaid gold box. There was also a jug with half a handle which held water that she both bathed in and drunk.

The long white ribbons she fastened in her hair in their traditional fashion weaved with the wind and she fancied that if she should let them go they would float along the breeze and merge with the snow that draped across the ground like a carpet in some fancy gentleman's hall.

Flowers she had bought from a street woman lay on the sill where she hoped to let them fall and scatter their pollen in the vain hope that somehow come the new year the streets would be flooded with hydrangeas and perriwinkle. It was highly unlikely she had later scolded herself, but it was good to dream.


Looking out she wondered after Ulric Von Katz, mouthing the name back to herself as she looked at the card he had presented with her earlier. His handwritten scribble made her smile and she marvelled at the loops and scratchings that made someone so literate seem no more than a sweeper. A thin laugh left her lips as she imagined him at his desk hastily writing it before striding rapidly from the room to reach the morning post. "I wonder if the tiger has to chase after him." she mused, "in case he's forgotten his hat." Then again, she reconsidered. "He would never go without his hat. It is very becoming."

Being alone had begun to make her more child like, tittering like a school child whilst weaving ideas in her imagination like a school mistress. There had been on occasion times when the silence seemed unbearable unless punctuated with some work or inspiration. In her youth she had taken up painting and other arts, satisfying her hands with the art of her music gliding her long fingers along the strings of a harp or twitching the eager horsehair brush over the glossy white canvas. Now, more than ever it was a necessity. The silence was unbearable.

In the morning a letter came baring the now familiar and constricting initials of the Warden. A small sigh left her as she committed to memory the details of the coming night. Even though she was free of her father, whilst the Warden's mark came she would be forever be a bird in an invisible cage. Her wings clipped before she could truly reach the sky.

[ulricvonkatz]

As he stepped onto the cold cobbles once more, he wrapped his thin coat more tightly around himself, feeling the chill keenly as a cold wind blew. It looked like it would be a clear night, for once, and he could see in the distance a boy and a hunched old man lighting the Gas Lamps.
He decided to hurry, and see if he could catch a late cab back. It was a long walk, and whilst he was cocky enough to walk the slums alone by daylight, he wasnt nearly suicidal to walk them at night. At least, not yet. He sighed, and remembered why he had originall come out here. Still, it was too late to attend to that business. His friends and their staff were no doubt fretting about where he was.

As he jogged along the cobbles, puffing, Elai'Syra effortlessly keeping pace behind him, he wondered what he was going to do about his new found responsibility. Suddenly he checked himself. Responsibility? But he'd only just met her! Why did he feel this way? Confused, he stopped his jogging, brisk pace, and came to a slide by a Gas Lamp. He could hear the slow clipclop of a horse's hoofs in the distance, and Elai'syra came bounding up beside him. "Slow down, or you'll do yourself an injury." she cattily remarked. He pointedly ignored her.

Hailing the cab, he produced the appropriate coinage, and eased himself up into its hard wooden seating. The walls were decorated with ads for things like Carbolic Soap, tinctures and other consumer goods. He grimaced, finding the growing trend for advertising somewhat unsavoury. He'd seen the boys running around with bill posters, plastering any wall they felt they could away with with cheap, colourful advertisements.

The ride back home was a short one, a mere half hour, but it felt like longer, as, with Elai'syra curled up beside him, his brain churned through the events of the past few hours, and he gazed out the window at the cold London night, wondering about his latest accquaintance. He wondered what this Elwood was like, and why he was so terrible a figure that he had forced his daughter to run away into such awful penury. He felt enormous guilt at leaving her their all alone, and wished he'd pushed harder to have her accompany him. It simply wasnt safe for a woman- any woman- to live on those streets, he reflected. A woman of her calibre, it was practically criminal. His brow furrowed, and once again he was led back to something that had been nagging at him for years. How to tackle the injustices of London, its squalor, its penury, its licentiousness, corruption and anarchy? He felt that, with Emmalena, a piece of the puzzle towards curing his itch for Reform, for change, might at last be held.

It was a very thoughtful and somber Ulric that left the Cab, and his jollity when the staff opened the door to him was faked. He felt like he should explain truthfully where he had been, yet at the same time he knew what everyone else's opinion of Miss Ellis would be, and what they would suggest. There was only one person he could trust, and he would have to talk to them, alone, in private, tomorrow.

It was going to be a fitful night, filled with melancholic dreams, and the haunting image of the wan beauty he had met that day...

[Emmalena Louisa Ellis]

It was incredibly cold that morning as Emmalena walked through the streets in her threadbare cloak laced with fox fur from where Anquorn had slept. If Only I'd brought my gloves. She scolded herself. every now and then looking to the letter which she held in the folds of her cloak s in the solitary top pocket.

Early mornings in London always held a charm for her and if she had allowed herself she might have run to the stalls and gazed in wonder, forking out her purse with a smile. Now however she must remain distant. The Warden had summoned her. Advancing along the main street she watched in silence the traps and cabs that once might have eased her passage seemed to glide across the snow to the coach inns and travel houses.

She could picture the occupants: Ladies in furs - mink, her sisters favourite and gentlemen in fine coats and long sweeping scarves. For them there would be a roaring fire, fine drink and laughter. For her a dusky office of crumbling brick - blackened by the ash from a small iron stove.

Meet with me before Noon. There is custom. The note had instructed. The Warden had always been vague, often troublesomely so, so that it was sometimes hard to figure out where he demanded her presence so urgently. Thankfully the Warden was also a man of patterns. He was always at one place or one another and the small nature of the streets he chose aided her to find him before the hour.

Anquorn had been walking behind her, trailing his tail sadly, she wished so much to be able to feed him. At this rate they might not last the winter. Each job, she told him, each job would be the last. The money would come then. But there was no deliver - save that of another letter from the man who controlled her flight.

Last night, she had used the same cover story as usual to Ulric, but it saddened her in a way that he had believed her. It was a feeling she had not felt before, as if she had hoped she might be able to tell him truthfully why she was no longer home. What would he think then? Nothing, she must not think of him now. It did not matter. They would not meet again.

The Warden used her as a tool, he had discovered her and his secret and seemingly taken pity. Ensnaring her into his trap of deceit, claiming of wronged justice. Fool that she was she had once believed him. She had been dragged into the world and now if she wanted to live she would have to remain under his thumb. Meeting and pleasing his associates to gain a seat in the Lords. Whatever the cost.

She was his tool. But no matter how many tools she was given, how many tricks or trades she now knew. She had no tool to remove the mental manacle that constrained her freedom and her heart.

[ulricvonkatz]

Morning came, shedding wan dawn light on Ulric's fatigued eyes. He had slept little that night, thinking constantly about this strange, enthralling woman he had met the day before. Emmalena Ellis.. He'd have to ask his growing network of Informers about it. He wasn't quite ready to call himself a "Detective" yet, but his growing conviction that Crime and Corruption were at the heart of what caused the Suffering of the Masses had tempted him with trying to pursue that route. He had gone to the Police many times, and precious little had been done. They could arrest troublemakers easy, imprison them, hang them, deport them, but it was like trying bail a sinking boat with a thimble. It just wasn't going to work.

Yawning, and forcing himself out of bed, he was surpised at how early it was. The servants hadn't even laid out the morning papers yet, and were probably just starting breakfast themselves. "Good Morning, sir. Up already?" asked the Butler. Technically the Staff weren't his, but those of Mr. Goodsby, the Lawyer he had lived with and worked with for nearly six years now. It was true he was now qualified to run his Father's Business in Portsmouth now, but he had found it so much easier in London. Besides, it was easier to visit his Mother in her Sanitorium from here. He was thinking of moving the Headquarters of the Business up here, but he knew that it would be harder to Import goods if they had to travel from Portsmouth up to London, and that would raise expenses in so many ways.

Plus, he thought with a smile, he couldn't carry on his personal crusade against the evils of London from Portsmouth.
"Indeed, Bernards. Is there any tea ready yet..? I have a fancy to have it with some toasted bread, and jam too if we have any." He said without much hope. It was quite out of season for Jam, but there might be some left, preserved by the cold in the back of the larder.

"I don't think so, sir, But I shall check." The Butler responded politely. Satisfied, Von Katz let the Butler go about his work, whilst he finished dressing and made to go downstairs. No doubt they had something or another to occupy his time with at the Accounting House, or perhaps it would be the Stock Exchange today. It was always tiresome, going into Mayfair Street.

He was just starting his Toast and sipping his tea when Goodsby came down to the Dining Room to join him. "Up already, von Katz?" the genial old man said. "Suprised, I heard you pacing most of last night." he chuckled. "Thin walls you know."

Ulric smiled. Goodsby was a reliable, affable and sadly very portly lawyer, who, he feared, was growing somewhat impatient with Ulric's continued presence as a lodger. Goodsby had a family, children,a partner and a flourishing business, and whilst he was greatly respectful of Ulric's lineage, and had come to like Ulric himself, he did not consider Ulric a part of his Law tradition or life in London, but a longterm investment in business in Portsmouth. Ulric could have moved out easily for a year or so now, but he had found a curious inertia holding him in place. Maybe it was obsession, or perhaps something else. Like he was waiting for Fate to make its next move.

"Well if you have time in your busy schedule, von Katz, perhaps you could look in the Market for something for my son, Reginald. Its his birthday in a week and I've promised him a present. Normally I'd get the Nanny to do it, but well, she's been ill lately, some winter malady I wager."
Ulric nodded. It was a trivial errand, and quite beneath someone of even middling station like Ulric, but it was also a sign of trust from the wily old Lawyer, and a subtle hint that he should be turning his thoughts towards Commerce once more, and perhaps, by extension, finding his own lodgings and property here in London, if he meant to stay.

"Of course. Perhaps I'll also look for some Jam, we seem to have run out." Goodsby snorted. "It never ceases to amaze me how English you can be, given your background." he said with a smile.

Ulric took no offence. He had heard far worse, from friends and enemies alike. After talking for a further few minutes, and reading the morning broadsheet- full of rumour, gossip, and political bunkum as always- he folded it neatly, and rose to be about his Business. "Any idea when you'll be back? You were quite late last evening." Goodsby reprimanded him.

"Perhaps no later than six." he said with reluctance, suprising himself with the knowledge that he had already decided he would again try to find Emmalena, or perhaps contact his Informants and try to help her with her father somehow.
"Very well." The old Lawyer said, and Ulric doffed his Hat and picked up his cane. Elai'syra came padding down the steps, evidently having elected to snooze a bit longer, and now she came, proudly feline as ever, to rub against his side. "We'll be off now. Cheerio!" he said, and closed the fine door behind him.

"To the Market, Cabdriver." he said, paying the waiting hansom cabbie.

[Emmalena Louisa Ellis]

The air was strong with tobacco. Even though she was used to it the sickly taste merged with whiskey issuing from his lips made him grimace. "You been a good girl then?" he asked her. Puckering his lips in a way that reminded her of a fish. A carp or a kipper she thought. Brushing his cheek with her lips she forced herself to suppress the shudders he gave her. His cheek was cold and his voice dripped like sewage water.

"Yes, Warden." she replied, keeping her voice low and without expression.

"No trouble?"

"None."

His eyes swivelled at her words seemingly unsatisfied, quickly realising what she had omitted she replied again."None Warden sir." He smiled then, cruelly.

"That's good. I have a job for you. It's a biggun."

Fear numbed her to the spot as he whispered the details in her ear as though each word emulated in sickly poison. "The glass exhibition. Koh-i-Noor, get it."

Stumbling back she could not hide her fright. "But Sir!"

"Get it!" he replied snarling before softening his voice to a silky seductive tone that a fox might used to ensnare a rabbit.
"The jewel makes the world go round. If I claim to find it the Queen will have to make me Minister!"

"No...no" she shook her head trying to stop the brainwashing lull of his voice. "Not this time. I wont have part of this!"

Again he pulled her to him, roughly and whispered once more into her ear. "I've got you a present..."

[ulricvonkatz]

The day was bright if crisply cold, and Ulric wondered if perhaps Snow was on its way. It was unlikely, he reflected with sadness, remembering the snow-filled winters of his youth in Germany, amongst the few times he had been happy then.

The market-place was as crowded as he had expected, rickety stalls draped with sheets scattered in a hodgepodge maze across the Square, traders, hucksters, mountebanks, a true riot of colours, sounds, smells and people. Beggars rubbed shoulders with artisans, farmers, clerks, accountants, engineers, soldiers, sailors and gentry. Ulric knew he didn't have much time here, so he pushed his way through the crowds, avoiding where he could treading on this or that demon's tail or paws or feet. Ulric gritted his teeth, feeling the pressure of the crowd all around him, and wary of street urchins and pickpockets who might take advantage of a finely dressed gentleman such as himself. He ignored the Preservatives Stall, marking its location mentally as he sought something nice to buy for Goodsby's children- and, perhaps, the mysterious Emmalena.

He shook his head at such thoughts. What was coming over him? He was suprised as the crowds thinned, and he could see a make-shift pavillion ahead, in which a brass band was pumping out various popular cheery ditties with a modicum of competence. It was there that he saw something that intrigued and suprised him. A man in a fine, colorful suit, standing next to an adboard, proclaiming that TICKETS FOR THE GREAT EXHIBITION WERE ON SALE, INQUIRE BELOW.

It had been going on for a little while now, and he was suprised to see that tickets to its entrance were on sale here, in a common market of all places. He guessed that now the hoop-la about the Exhibition had died down a bit, it was possible to admit people without high social standing. When he saw the price of the tickets, he frowned. Clearly he wasn't going to be able to afford many. But...

Elai'syra came padding up behind him, and she growled approvingly. "I know whats in your heart, even if you don't. Buy 2 tickets." she said, with insight that made Ulric blush. No, she couldn't mean...no, he didnt want that. She must have meant 2 tickets for the 2 children. Yes, thats what it meant. But he'd still need some trinkets, he supposed. Just to keep them from being bored. He spotted through the crowd a Toy workshop, and smiled, not yet conscious of the plan already forming in his mind.

"Excuse me sir, are you selling tickets for the Great Exhibition?" "You know I am sir." said the finely-dressed man.
"Its a pound a ticket, no more, no less." Ulric winced at the price, but he was a man of means, and he produced two pound notes with ease. The man licked his lips. "Much obliged sir." He then produced two immaculate, silvery tickets for the Exhibition. "For you and a Lady friend, perhaps?" the man smiled devilishly. Ulric frowned, and resisted the impulse to snap back.

Walking away, he carefully folded and stored the tickets in his deepest coat pocket, and then went to the toy store, and bought a couple of simple automata and games for the children. He then hurriedly left the market, lest he be late for his Afternoon meeting with the stockbrokers.

Later that evening, the work of the day behind him, he considered heading out to visit the Soup Kitchen- and that was all, he firmly told himself, not to try and see Emmalena again, well, maybe just to check on her health, nothing like that- but he felt he couldn't risk the toys in his care. Or the Tickets. he hastily amended. They're for the children too.

So it was that he did not visit her that evening, but he swore to himself he would the following day....

[Emmalena Louisa Ellis]

Emmalena felt like a puppet guided or rather pulled along by the long invisible strings of her master; The Warden. Her face had been finally enhanced with the best make up; crudely acquired she mused from somewhere and the long sweeping dress that didn't suit her now thinning form and her hair of long mattered brown and tawny tones. Stumbling through the crowd of the exhibition she had thanked herself that it was night, although no mask of darkness could hide her from his ever watching eyes.

She had left Anquorn outside, so to prevent alarm. After all why would she need such attention if she intended to fulfil her master's cruel demanding wish.

It had taken her some time to adjust her weary beaten feet to the heeled shoes again and she marvelled at how much she managed it, before remembering with some sadness how she had run along the walls outside her family home laughing as she lifted her skirts like a rebel at her once kindly father.

Outside the snow had begun in trickling flurries to descend on the exhibition like a snow globe or a music box - such as the one's her grandfather had shown her from Russia and which she had always wished to own.

Walking quickly as she dared she guided herself along the exhibitions, wishing she had more time to enjoy the strange gadgetries and gizmos, the by gone dreams that would probably soon be by gone realities. Money was short and patrons were shorter, often sitting tight lipped and cold as fish staring in their suits as black as undertakers.

One crowd that never seemed to waver though was that for the Koh-i-Noor. Mixed feelings threatened to engulf her, was it a good thing? For crowds would prevent her from being seen as a clear thief. But crowds meant traps, nervously she cast her eyes about her. Was she even doing the right thing?

As she surveyed the crowd she froze. For there not more than 300 yards away with his head cocked at an angle was Ulric Von Katz. Dare she move? She didn't dare. Nor dare she steal the jewel. It was not right, she had never wanted to.. She should get away... she should....

"Emmalena?"

[ulricvonkatz]

The next day saw Ulric filled with a strange, rising excitement. He wasn't sure of its exact source, but he was filled with an elation, and a determination. He felt enormously guilty that he had concealed the purchase of Exhibition Tickets from Goodsby and his children, instead offering the toys he had bought to Goodsby. He kept telling himself that he had concealed the Tickets so that they would be a suprise when he present them to the children in a few days on their birthday, but a nagging part of his brain told him that was false.

Elai'syra seemed almost amused by his internal consternation, purring in a way he had come to associate with laughter. He had dressed quickly, and wolfed down the jam-smeared bread along with a warm mug of tea, before heading out. "Whats gotten into you, Ulric?" Goodsby inquired nonchatantly. "Good mood, I think, sir." he said, smiling, and feeling odd and self-conscious about his strange mood. He felt hot and sometimes a tad breathless. Just what was wrong with him?

He had decided that, after work today, he would pursue his Philanthropic ventures with vigour, and make up for lost time. He'd promised the Soup Kitchen additional funds, and he needed to pursue leads about the growing prevalence of mugging gangs in certain parts of London. He was convinced that the Crime of London was an intricate and elaborate pattern, influenced by subtle flucutations in poverty, starvation and disease. He just hadn't figured out how it all fit together yet, or how to influence this pattern directly himself. He was nonetheless, adamantly convinced that, once he had gathered sufficient information, he would be able to strike with precision and determination, and drive back the forces of penury and want that hung over London like its own Miasmic fogs.

He found the day passing in a blur, and he struggled to concerntrate on the mountain of manifests, accounting sheets and other volumes of paperwork that passed across his desk. He spoke, disinterestedly, at lunch with other brokers and businesspeople, who advised that he needed to go to more dinner functions with certain Gentleman's Clubs. "Thats where the real business happens. I am quite sure your supply problems and your transport problems will vanish, hmph, yes." Ulric simply nodded, not really taking any of it in, his mind lost elsewhere.

Despite the bitter chill, he found himself feeling warm and muggy from time to time, and he wondered if he was catching a cold or something. He sincerely hoped not, illness would be a major setback to very delicate work that he needed to do- both here with the company, and with his many, discreet projects.

It was with his heart hammering in his chest that he left the office early, having worked through the day's tasks at breakneck speed, that he summoned a cab, taking him part of the way towards her Neighbourhood. He composed himself, feeling in his breastpocket for the tickets, and sighing with relief. Dont want to lose them. he tried to justify himself.

After disembarking, he raced down the winding streets, keeping an open eye for trouble, untill he came to the familiar rundown slum block where he remembered with such fondness meeting her...
wait, this isnt right, i was going to the Soup Kitchen! he lamely tried to correct himself, but it was too late. He hammered on her door, but there was no response. No sign of Anquorn either. No note, no explanation. Dejected, he couldn't see any sign of her. Perhaps she was out? He sighed, feeling his enthusiasm and joy de vivre emptying out of him. He sat on the porch, watching the overcast skies, and shivering. He hoped nothing had happened to her, on these cold lonely streets.

After a long moment, Elai'syra nudged him. "Cheer yourself up. Why not go tonight?"
"But...well.."
"You paid for them, they are yours to do with as your please." she purred.

Sighing, with reluctance, he decided to check on the Soup Kitchen, then go to the Great Exhibition. In truth, he was a little excited, he supposed, about getting to at last see what he had been fighting for all along, with his crusade against poverty- namely, Civilisation. Order. the Works of Man, all gathered together in one place.
As he walked, at a much slower pace, down all too familiar cold, hard streets, he reflected. She might be in tomorrow, perhaps. Would it be wise to waste his ticket tonight? Then again, he mused, he might just check out the entrance, see what it was like from the outside. Judge if it was an appropriate place to visit, he mused. He could always ask Goodsby, if necessary, to get some more. His thoughts of profiligacy shocked him, yet, like some ethereal force, he felt compelled to begin his slow, meandering journey, towards that Glass Palace, the heart of the Great Exhibition.

Nonetheless, he forced himself to attend to his neglected duties, and he paid the Matron who thanked him kindly for his continued patronage. "Most folks would starve round here without your kindness, good sir." she said, matter of factly. "I do what I can, though i know it is never enough." he replied, feeling the weight on his heart.

It was past sunset when he finally emerged, and he decided to forgo visiting his sources, at least for tonight. He didn't fancy spending another night in illsmelling, poorly constructed drinking dens, swapping coins and mugs of reeking ale for halfremembered stories, gossip and rumour.

"Perhaps you are right, Elai'syra. The Exhibition should be judged on its merits, if it is to be a fine place for the children." he said stiffly, aware of Elai'syra's intense feline amusement at his consternation.

Once again, he found himself travelling a night coach, but, instead of returning to Goodsby's, he was headed to the Exhibition, a private treat, an uncharacteristic indulgence that he nonetheless felt bound, by some unexplainable force, to follow.

The crowds were suprisingly substantial outside the Exhibition, and it was clear that this business of keeping it open at Night was necessary to allow everyone a chance to view the wonders within. It was becoming quite the fashion, he mused, for nighttime excursions.

He stood under a burning Gas light, surveying the crowds, enjoying the ambience. It was then his heart froze. He blinked twice, unable to believe what he was seeing. Surely not. Yet, once again, the Inivisble cords of destiny had brought him near her...

"Emmalena?" he said, incredulously, struggling to be heard over the roar of the crowd.

[Emmalena Louisa Ellis]

One look at Ulric's face and she knew her fate was sealed. Anxiety had placed her well and she tried to reason with herself that her sudden lack of confidence had been due to good reasoning rather than the warm smile she had remembered from the man who now addressed her.

Every part of her felt restricted, the clicking of a pocket watch of a nearby patron held no beat, no soothing rhythm to soothe her from her twitching heart. She must be silent, must not reveal herself.

Looking round in mock confusion as if to scan the crowds she looked back to him. "Are you addressing me Sir?" she asked, keeping her voice light and filled with no emotion. "Who is this Emmalena you speak of?"

Although she could not explain it she felt something die inside her. The man whom she had so longed all day to see again and now here she was betraying him. Betraying everybody. It was best to go. Slowly she began to head back into the crowds towards the exit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Warden watched as the young man spoke her name causing his face to contort with anger. It appeared to him that she might know the gentleman in question, but how? Had she betrayed him?

The crowds frustrated him, murmuring and simpering like docile sheep in the field - selfishly waiting for more grass to pamper their fat fleecy coats. So much so that he could not hear her reply. Craning his neck slightly he glanced at the jewel. Soon with the meek young girl he would be able to influence her royal majesty, perhaps gaining a high seat in the Lords. Yes he would like that.

The young man however had called her again, and the two looked into each other's eyes like lovers do. She was wavering. No giving in. He could see it in her face, How could you? He thought to himself before relaxing his face a sudden peace came over him. He would have to kill her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Emmalena left the building she sighed into the cold night air. Whistling as if for a cab she waited for Anquorn to come, hoping he had not seen a tasty snack and run off. It seemed a long wait, Ulric, She thought with sadness, It will be better this way. Even so it was hard to prevent her tears when a hand clasped over her shoulder.

Turning nervously she saw him. His warm blue eyes blazed within the moonlight and she saw again the handkerchief he had so kindly offered before. He wanted an explanation, she could tell though no words past his lips.

Sighing she tried to begin. "Mr Von Katz, Ulric I-"

The sudden shout of "EMMALENA!" made her head snap up. There striding towards her with his face filled with anger was The Warden his arm outstretched and pointing. A flash of silver flashed in the moonlight, a gun? a knife?

Fear grew within her instantly and she quickly pulled back from Ulric thrusting his handkerchief into his hand she tried to ignore her now steady flow of tears as the Warden advanced towards her and she knew it was time. "I, I have to go." She whispered to Ulric kissing his cheek and watching with sadness as the colour rose in his face and she whispered to him. "I'm so sorry."

Running before had been hard, but never, never she would later muse would it be so hard as this. Every part of her felt heavy and she felt weighed down by the taffeta of her dress clinging to her like a straight-jacket.

The wane moon slipped in and out of the clouds like a cat and mouse game, or a referee in some sport she mused - giving advantage and disadvantaged points to both she and the Warden.

Ahead of her was a low hedge wall that lead to a maze, some grand act of splendour to add to the status of the garden parks she had entered. Every sound frightened her now, the heavy breathing and footsteps in particular. Were they her own? The Warden's? She wasn't sure.

Snow had begun to fall again heavily so the greeny rows of the hedge maze transformed themselves into blocks of steel and ice. Directions began to blur themselves so that she was unable to figure out here from there. All was silent now. She could only pray she had lost him. Her hand curled over her side as she felt the twinges of a stitch but she kept running, flying. Tripping in the muddy ground she struggled to raise herself. It was then she heard the cold voice of her nightmares and a flash of a knife rose in the moonlight behind her.

"Time to die Bitch!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Running as best he could Anquorn closed in on the palace ignoring the occasional squeaks of alarm by nervous and young patrons but to his surprise he could not see her. What he could see however was a long line of footprints in the snow and a familiar figure. who was holding his cheek in a daze from where he had been kissed. "Von Katz?" he asked confused, cocking his head quizzically. "Where's Emmalena? She's in trouble isn't she?!"

Ulric did not immediately reply but his face turned slowly and looked to the ruby coloured fox with the sapphire eyes.
He made several mumblings and pointings which corresponded well to his confusion but finally sank to his knees and looked at the fox face to face.

Anquorn sighed and looked back. He could only hope the Warden would not make good his threat.

"Please." said the young man and the fox could see a pang of pain in the young man's face. "Please, tell me everything."
...

[ulricvonkatz]

The words of the woman before him stung, a dagger thrown directly at his heart. Her eyes looked so...dead, and alien. He blinked, shocked, and watched mutely as she ran through the crowds away from him.
"Did my...eyes deceive me?" he asked Elai'syra, incredulous. "No, you were not deceived. Go after her!" urged Elai'syra, as she leaped nimbly through the crowds, weaving nimbly through legs and around skirts in pursuit of the fleeing Emmalena.

Quickly gathering his wits, he too set off at a mad pace, lacking Elai'syra's grace he simply elected to barge through. "Watch it!" someone yelled, but Ulric had no time to stop.

He saw her running along the streets. "Emmalena! Wait!" he yelled. "Come back, please!" he called, leaving the crowds behind, as they began to run into the richer parts of London, past bright gas-lamps and iron-spiked fencings.

He caught up with her as she was trying to hail a cab, and he grabbed her shoulder. "Emmalena!" he yelled. She stopped, and turned to face him. There was no mistake, it was indeed her, the woman he had sought. There was no mistaking those deep, sorrowful blue eyes. His heart lurched, seeing tears welling in her eyes. "Emmalena..." he said again, almost a whisper, unable to understand the tragic tableaux before him. It was melancholy itself, seeing her despair.

Her words of explanation, sullen and leaden, were cut off by the loudest, most vehement of roars. He turned, and saw an ugly man in unkempt clothing, a face pulsing red with absolute fury. His finger was pointed out, like a musket raised at the charge, towards his beloved. Coiled around his shoulder was a slick, hissing adder.
Something deep within his memory stirred, faint traces of recollection, but he was far too focused on what was occurring then and there to try and remember whatever it was tickling his brain.

Emmalena suddenly kissed him on the cheek, and bolted before he could react. He froze for crucial seconds, shock filling his system, and he stood there once again, overloaded by the moment. The brutish man ran after her, as she struggled to run in her long trailing dress. He would catch up with her easily, unless he acted.

He took after them. "Come on Elai'syra! we must hurry!" he said, acting quickly, forcing himself to run as fast as he could along the moonlit cobbles. Dark clouds threatened to obscure the moon overhead, and Ulric felt the light kiss of falling snow. Around him, dim gaslamps flickered, points of light in the gathering darkness.

Emmalena suddenly turned up ahead, and ran into some private hedge maze, easily overcoming the barrier. The Brute roared again, something obscene, and followed her into the Maze. Concealed from sight, his breathing came heavier, as he powered towards the entrance.

He almost tripped over the Fox demon waiting behind. Emmalena's he recognised. He lurched to a halt, and Elai'syra also skidded on the slushy, wet grass, as snow began to fall thickly around and on him. He shivered in the bitter cold.

"Please." he asked the demon, sadness and desperation gripping him. "Tell me everything."

"There's no time." The fox replied, sadly. "We must hurry if we are to save Emmalena." The Fox scampered away into the Maze before Ulric could respond.

"Blast!" he swore. "Elai'syra, do you still have energy?"
"Enough to run till the ends of the Earth."

"Then lets go. Split up, it'll be quicker. You see the brute, you know what to do. If you find Emmalena first, protect her with your life." The demon's eyes widened, but she nodded. "You value her so much...? Of course."

Without another word, they plunged into the narrow paths of the Hedge Maze, splitting up at the first junction, plunging through the icy night, the walls towering over them, like rustling claws of frosty foliage.

Time was against him, but he swore to himself that, having saved her from one potential act of violence and dishonor, he would not allow her to fall prey to another.

[Emmalena Louisa Ellis]

Fear gripping her she turned attempting to scramble away as a long knife hit the ground beside her missing her foot by inches. She wanted to run but the strength was leaving her body, betraying her to fatigue, "You don't need to do this Warden." She whimpered slightly, "I can try again." but the man no longer cared. Smiling a savage smile he leaned down over her and allowed his snake to make itself comfortable; coiling itself about her neck. His words were savage and cruel.

"Shh, just breathe in and let the knife slid into your body. " he coaxed watching with some amusement as she buckled and cried trying to free herself from the long tight rope of adder scales. In an instant though she was engulfed in an indescribable pain as a long knife slid into her side. He laughed cruelly, "Do you think I really care about that?" He paused dramatically fingering the blade as he withdrew it to re-administrate it deeper. "You're just a toy to me, and you've failed!"

Through the haze of pain Emmalena knew that it was forever too late for her. Images flashed before her eyes, "Anquorn, Father, Mother" she whispered as she watched them one by one flickering as ghosts. The Warden continued Eerie red of blood started to flow from the severally and heavily injured parts of her body. Left and Right, In and Out the blade went. With the last of her strength she focused on the final image in her mind as a comfort as her world went black... "Ulric."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The warden laughed like a man possessed noting with satisfaction how her breath wavered and her heart beat slowed. Soon the beat of her cursed existence would be gone. Her sickening soft cream skin was turning wonderfully pale and her lips that had unfeelingly dared kiss another man's cheek were grey and cold.

To begin with annoying murmurs and left her occasionally as he delved the knife in her sides and torso with sick enjoyment, now she lay still submitting to her penalty of death.

Checking her pulse he counted the seconds between her response to his own. "One more strike should do it." He cackled to the adder still coiling around her - like a fatal necklace.

It was then that Ulric came....

[ulricvonkatz]

Ulric shivered, as he ran, breath coming in ragged heaves from his chest, through the darkening, Grey hedge maze, snow weighing down on his clothing. He cursed as he skidded into another dead-end, and quickly spun around and went down another turning, seeing the snow beginning to pile up on the path around him, showing fresh footprints.

Too exhausted to vocalize his triumph, he simply grunted in satisfaction, and began following the heavy imprints. He ran down a long passage, the hedges seeming to press in around him. He heard awful noises from up ahead, like sobbing and cries of furious rage. His heart went into overdrive, and he felt bile rising in his throat. Nonetheless, he pushed himself onwards, naked fear and adrenaline giving added speed to his weary, burning limbs.

He came into a clearing in the center of the maze, and his eyes fell upon a sight that chilled him to his very soul, an agony he had not known since his mother had been taken away to the sanitorium, so long ago...

As the beastial thug rose his glinting, crimson-edged blade into the air one more time, Ulric gave a cry of pure hatred and agony, bursting forth from deep within him, as he lunged at the wild-eyed brute.

All thoughts of gentlemanly behaviour were forgotten, all pretense at style, civility and finesse lost, as he simply smashed into the thug, bowling him over. The snake-demon hissed, and began to uncoil rapidly, determined to protect its master.

Another bestial roar shook the maze, as, leaping through the dense tangle, came Elai'syra, scratched, bruised, exhausted, but eager to fight on her master's behalf.

Ulric grappled with the knife, his own rage a match for the warden's, and he began slamming the man's hand against the hard, frozen ground. "Boy! you dare interfere?" hissed the man, more demonic than his adder, as his eyes blazed. Ulric gritted his teeth, and spat: "I at least am a Man." the Brute surged in frenzy, and Ulric rolled in the snow with him, kicking, punching, biting, desperate to keep the knife out of range and struggling to breathe under the foul weight of the man.

Elai'syra pounced on the adder, as it tried to slither away, its claws grasping the serpent's oily coils and raking it with sharp, sharp claws.

Blood stained the snow. Crying forth in agony, the warden struggled now to get loose, desperation quickly surging in as bloodfrenzy faded. Ulric acted quickly, and, as they disentangled, he grabbed the bloody knife, almost cutting himself in the process. He didnt bother to try and reverse it, as the warden lunged, and he simply threw it as far as he could overhead into the maze, as the warden's meaty hands wrapped around Ulric's throat.

He gasped, struggling for breath, and as he fell to the hard ground again, his eyes rolled sideways. Elai'syra had backed off in her assault on the adder, feeling Ulric's pain and distress. It was then that he turned his head, struggling, fighting for every breath, and caught a glimpse of Emmalena's paling, scarlett-splattered form, crumpled in the snow like a broken doll, her eyes weakly fluttering.

He kicked the warden with all his strength, and as the thuggish villain tumbled backwards, Elai'syra hit his head with shocking force, her claws gouging long agonizing marks across his cheek. The warden howled like a baby, and slid away. Elai'syra circled, ready to attack again. The adder was crawling away already, deep into the foliage of the hedges. The warden, clutching his bleeding cheek, shot eyes of pure malevolent hatred. "I'll make your suffering a thousand times worse than hell." he swore, and scarpered off into the maze whence he came, blood dripping between his fingers, as he cursed and moaned in pain.

Ulric wasted no time, rushing to Emmalena's side.
"Miss Ellis...are you alright? Emmalena? please, wake up." he cradled her head gently, her long, summer-brown curls falling down around her waxen head, her deep-blue eyes staring blanky up into the black heavens above.

"Please, wake-up...Elai'syra! Fetch a doctor, or a cab, or...someone, quickly!" He yelled. The Tiger growled, and, despite her injuries and almost complete exhaustion, raced to comply. He gazed down at this strange, mysterious ethereal woman, as he desperately tried to stem her bleeding. Her wounds were shallow, for the most part, but many. That bastard...

"My love...please, hold on." he found himself saying, to his surprise. Did he really love this woman already? He had but met her only twice. Yet, something within him told him that yes, he was already falling in love with her, and it would destroy him to lose her.

He would not lose her. He vowed. He worked to tear off strips from her crinoline dress, to try and staunch the bleeding. He would not fail her, as he had failed his mother, so many years ago...

[Emmalena Louisa Ellis]

It was the light that woke her. Confused and without bearings she attempted to lift herself so she could see around her. Pain in her side made her whimper and through gritted teeth she whispered to herself. "Mission Accomplished."

The room was well furnished with warm green wallpaper; which pleased her with its symmetrical pattern on three sides and the plain green paint on the other behind her. There was a window beside her where the sun seemed to stream through and the bed in which she now propped herself up in was of mahogany with plain cream sheets folded nearly up to her waist. At the far end by the door was a clock on the mantle. "Half the hour." she mused, "Where am I? How long have I been here?"

Scanning the room again she saw the chair close by her with a man slumped over, his arm outstretched to her. His hat had fallen off in his slumber, revealing his soft tufts of golden hair. Ulric? She wondered, contemplating if it were best to wake him. His hand twitched and she heard he cry out "No! Don't die!" shaking slightly before he was still again save for his erratic breathing. Alarm filled her for a moment as she wondered how she might look to him now and she looked down. To her relief she was dressed in a cotton gown and her side felt sore. Touching it she let out a small cry as she noticed the white padding filled with blood.

Whilst her cry was soft and suppressed the response was quick as Ulric bolted to his feet and ran to her almost tripping on his hat in his haste. "Emmalena you're awake!" He cried before taking her hand in his and pressing it gently.

[ulricvonkatz]

Ulric breathed a calm sigh of relief, as he saw that his beloved...for yes, he realized with a self-effacing pang, that was how he felt about her- had awoken. It had been like a Long, Horrific Nightmare, and when he had finally fallen asleep it had only replayed constantly in his head.

He had pulled her out of that frozen maze, taken her to a carriage, part of her torn taffeta dress used to bind her wounds as tightly as he could. Blood nonetheless leaked. He feared she was too unstable to be moved, but he had had to risk it, handing out his money like water, trying to push through gathering inquisitive crowds, and away from the shrill whistle of approaching constables.

He had had her rushed to the nearest doctor, and hammered the door down. It had been late and the doctor had been playing cards with friends. He offered him a note of credit for £100 to heal this woman right now. The doctor saw the fierceness in Ulric's eyes, and noted the prowling Tiger at his side. The doctor had reluctantly relented.

Now, six hours later, she was stitched up, very pale and fed thin broths, having been treated with one of Lister's experimental painkilling gas cylinders to make operating easier.

He had sat there, in the doctor's lounge, pacing endlessly, watching the ticking clock, writing notes, trying to think about anything but the dying woman upstairs. Eventually, he had been allowed in, to watch over her. He had fallen asleep, from sheer exhaustion and burning out nervous energy.

The bright rays of a cold dawn broke through the glass, spilling like gold wine across the bed and filling the room, brightening the drab and dreary spare chamber.

His excitement at seeing her awake had spurred him to action before he had had time to think about it, to rationalize, to restrain, to repress.

"Emmalena! your awake!" he cried, taking her hand in his, then blushing immensely.
"Ah...that is to say... I was very worried for you." he coughed, blushing feebly.
"Where...am I?" she asked feebly, too weary to think straight, though a wan smile touched her dry, cracked lips.
"You're in a spare chamber in Dr.Hobsbawn's house. Ah... it was very close." he said, gulping.
"Forgive me, would you like something to drink?" he hurried to her side, to pour her a waiting mug of water.

Outside, the Doctor passed, yawning, his eyes red and bloodshot from fatigue. "Oh, good! She's awake. I'll inform the Constable below." the Doctor said. "You can pay me later, sir." he said, grumbling, passing Ulric.

Unfazed, Ulric replied. "I owe you more than mere money for what you have done here today." he said simply, grateful to his core.

"Did you bring me here?" she asked, sipping the water carefully and wincing, still feeling pain all through her body, though numbed by the lingering affects of the ether.

"Yes. I saved you, and brought you to the Doctors." he said calmly.

"Why?"

He gaped, unsure how to respond. He tried to think, and was about to deliver a response when he was interrupted.

"Excuse me, marm, sir. Constable Willet, sir. I'm here about the incident at the Hedge Maze? There's an Inspector who'd like a word with you both..."

He frowned, and turned, and could see that Emmalena was shivering. It seemed at last it would all come out...