Chapter 1

Rain pattered down on the broken planks of wood haphazardly nailed together. Water collected at the edges and dripped onto the head of the little girl curled up beneath the makeshift shelter. The girl, ten years of age with messy hair that would have been a golden blonde if it were clean, huddled under a tattered, moth eaten blanket and tried to ignore the rain splashing her face.

The girl cracked one eye open as the sound of crunching gravel announced someone approaching. She recognized her sister's worn and battered boots and settled into her blanket to return to sleep.

A hand shaking her shoulder brought the girl out of her slumber. "Alice. Wake up," her sister said in a quiet voice. The girl sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Eat this," her sister said. She broke off a large chunk of bread and handed it to the girl. Alice stared at the bread for a moment, savoring the fresh baked scent, and watched the steam rise from the hunk of food that warmed her hands. She tore into the bread with her teeth and quickly gobbled the offering.

"It's good, isn't it," said Alice's thirteen-year-old sister, Mary. Alice barely chewed before swallowing and nodded. Bread this fresh hadn't filled her tummy in weeks. She knew her sister had stolen it from a baker somewhere.

The two girls sat and ate in silence, shivering in the cold, damp morning air. In no time at all, half the loaf of bread had been devoured. Mary wrapped the remaining bread in a soiled blanket and stuffed the bundle in a hole in the stone wall behind the shelter where they slept. She pushed a grey, cracked stone into place to plug the hole and disguise its existence.

"Come on, let's go to work," said Mary. She held Alice's hand and led her through the cobbled streets of town.

Gothic style architecture lined the streets Alice and Mary walked. Most of the houses had splintered and broken windowsills, many had doors sagging on hinges, all had chipped and fading plaster covering the walls. Alice and Mary were poor girls living in a poor part of a poor city.

The two girls made their way to the docks and wound through groups of fishermen and barrels of gear. They sat on the wharf and huddled together for warmth. Alice wiped the rain from her eyes while she peered out at the water.

"I think I see the Dahut," Mary said after sitting nearly fifteen minutes in the drizzling rain. "Go get your stick." Alice dashed across the wharf and disappeared into the bait shed. Mary got to her feet and waited as the battered old fishing vessel drifted up to the wharf. Two men with ropes leapt from the ship and tied it in place. A plank was placed down, and several men began unloading their catch. Mary boarded the ship to assist them.

Every morning Mary helped the fishermen bring their haul ashore, for which she was given a single fish as payment. Alice, being too small to carry heavy baskets of fish, was paid half a fish to keep the cats from eating the catch by any means necessary. The kid was willing to beat the cats with a stick, kick them, pounce them, and pull their tails for a bite to eat.

A hard morning's work led Alice and Mary to the steps outside the Singing Mermaid, a foul bar that sold sour beer and served as a favorite haunt for many of the fishermen. The girls sat outside and ate their reward. Often they had to settle for eating their fish raw, but the captain of the Dahut liked them and always had their fish cooked for them at the bar.

The rain had stopped and the girls tried to dry themselves under the sun winking between steel grey clouds. The door opened behind them, and a greasy man the girls knew as Mr. Miller played with Mary's hair as he exited the bar.

"Why don't you come home with me, Mary?" he said. "You'd be warm and dry in my bed." The man smiled, showing yellowing teeth.

Mary squirmed uncomfortably and tried to ignore the man. He brushed his hand along her cheek and Mary turned away from him.

"Leave my sister alone!" Alice yelled.

"Shut up, brat. This is between Mary and me."

Mary got up from the steps and tried to walk away from Mr. Miller but he grabbed her arm and pushed her against the wall. Mary cringed as he cupped her chin in his hand and lowered his face to hers. "There's no need for a pretty little thing like you to live on the street. I have a nice house for you," he said.

Alice got a running start and threw herself into the back of the man's thigh. His knee buckled, and with a yelp he tumbled to the ground, pulling Mary with him. Mary untangled herself from Mr. Miller's grasp, grabbed her sister's hand, and pulled her along as she ran down the docks.

When she was sure the man had given up chasing them, Mary led her sister down an alley. "Did he hurt you? Alice asked.

Mary shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she replied. "Want to go for a walk out to the wall?"

An old wooden wall twenty feet high ringed three sides of the city, with the sea bordering the remaining area. Originally constructed for defense, much of the wall was now condemned or in disrepair. Should the city come under attack from hostile forces, the two old men standing on either side of the main gate, wearing ill-fitted, cracked leather armor and armed with halberds they could barely hold up were all that guarded the people inside the walls.

Alice and Mary climbed one of the more deserted sections of the wall and sat with their feet dangling over the outer edge. From here they could see where the city ended and gave way to farmland, which in turn gave way to forest. A cobbled road meandered past the farms and vanished amongst the trees.

"Some day I'm going to get out of here, Alice," Mary said as she stared towards the horizon. "Some day I'll leave on horseback. No, in a carriage pulled by a team of horses. And I'll go to a proper city where the people aren't dirty and hungry all the time. And there will be a castle, a gleaming white castle with a beautiful princess and I'll be her friend. I'll live in the castle with her and be warm all the time.

"Or maybe I'll go to a nice, quiet little village and live on a chicken farm and raise chickens all day. I'll marry a nice boy who knows something about chickens and have lots of screaming kids with him."

"You can be a fisherman," Alice said.

Mary stuck out her tongue. "Ick, no! Chickens is much better. They're not slimy and they don't smell as bad," she said.

"What if they peck out your eyes?" Alice asked. "Fishes can't peck out your eyes."

"Mmm... I'd kick 'em in the head first. Besides, fishes don't lay eggs. So on a chicken farm you can eat chickens and eggs," said Mary.

Alice propped her chin in her hands and kicked her heels against the wall. "Can I go with you when you go?" she asked.

Mary put her arm around her sister. "Of course. We'll be together forever."

The two girls gazed upon the countryside in silence. Alice rested her head on Mary's shoulder and snuggled close. Mary shivered as the sun slipped behind the clouds and a chill permeated the air. "We'd better go before we freeze to death," Mary said.

Together the girls clambered down the neglected wall. Mary held Alice's hand and guided her down a narrow street. Alice skipped along at Mary's side and asked, "Hey, can we visit Courtney before we go home?"

Mary giggled. "Yeah, why not. That should be fun."

Next to her sister, Courtney Taylor was Alice's favorite person in the world. Not only did Courtney live in a house with two whole rooms, with her parents, three siblings, a big ugly dog, and an uglier grandmother, but she was also the only person Alice knew who was certified insane by an actual doctor. The doctor had repeatedly suggested Courtney be removed to the asylum, but her parents would hear nothing of it. Alice considered herself the beneficiary of their decision; she was always delighted to watch Courtney foam at the mouth and writhe on the ground whenever she took one of her fits.

When Alice and Mary arrived at Courtney's house, they found a girl about fifteen years old with her mother's gaudy make-up smeared on her face sitting in the garden eating lipstick so red tainted saliva dribbled down her chin. She was holding a chicken to the ground and viciously stabbed it with a kitchen knife. Blood and feathers littered the ground and stained Courtney's dress.

Alice giggled as she climbed over the fence with Mary. She knew Courtney wasn't allowed in the chicken coop and was hoping Courtney's mother would discover what she had done and come out to yell at her.

"Hi, Courtney. How are you?" Mary asked, careful not to get too close to the knife welding lunatic.

"Fine," Courtney replied without taking her eyes from her victim. She plunged the knife into the chicken, which made a final, barely audible squawk.

"We came to see some chickens," Mary said casually, "But it looks like you've already got them."

"Just this one," Courtney replied. "The others are screaming in the hen house."

"Can we see the dog?" Alice asked.

Courtney shook her head. "No! The dog's in the house. Don't even think about going in there, you dirty little urchin."

Alice glanced down at her clothes. They were dirty and smelled of fish, but at least she wasn't covered in blood at the moment.

A friendly smile lit Mary's face. "Hey, Courtney. Can my sister and I go into the chicken coop and look for eggs?" If she could slip a few eggs into her pocket, they'd have a veritable feast on their hands when they returned to their shelter.

"Can't," Courtney said. "I smashed all the eggs when the chickens wouldn't let me catch them."

"Maybe there are a couple of eggs left," said Mary.

Alice noticed it first. While Courtney mindlessly impaled the chicken with her knife, the blade slipped and suddenly sliced her index finger clean off her hand. Courtney and Mary stopped speaking as both girls realized what had happened at the same time. Mary let out a short scream. Courtney made no sound at all. A bewildered look crossed her face as she raised her hand and watched the blood pour from the stump of her missing finger. She found her finger among the chicken feathers and tried repeatedly to jab her finger back in place.

Courtney's mother, aroused by Mary's scream, appeared in the doorway. Her expression shifted from anger, to confusion, to fear as she examined the scene. "Courtney! I've told you a thousand times to stay away from the blessed chickens! Courtney? What's wrong with your finger? Courtney!"

Alice and Mary hung around long enough to see the doctor summoned, but were shooed away by Mr. Taylor when they were caught peeking through the window.

Although Alice and Mary were homeless, and cold, and hungry, they were also kids and made sure to have a little time to be kids. Their favorite playground was the graveyard, always a promising site for morbid adventures. This particular occasion was not to be disappointing as a rare treat was in store for the girls. They had no more than wandered down the main pathway overgrown with brambles snagging at their feet, when someone called their names.

Alice and Mary had several friends they liked spending time with, though friend was perhaps too strong a word. Friends suggested a level of trust, and the only people Alice and Mary trusted were each other. Allies was probably a better descriptor, other kids with whom the young sisters had a mutual agreement not to interfere in the other's interests. They had also been known to team up on grand endeavors that usually left someone with a light purse or an empty storehouse. This small group of children were now in the graveyard, waving and yelling for Alice and Mary's attention.

Suzanne was a girl a couple of years older than Mary who knew everything there was to know about sex and enjoyed sharing that knowledge. Matthew was a year younger and wanted to practice everything Suzanne knew about sex with Mary. Lucy was the youngest member of the group, at only eight years old, and was always seen clutching a ratty rag doll. Unlike the other kids, Lucy wasn't homeless. She and her parents shared a tiny one room shack with two other families. She was also mute, though no one knew for sure if she couldn't speak or was never given the opportunity.

Alice and Mary found Lucy sitting on a headstone dressing her doll. Matthew and Suzanne had discovered an open grave complete with a fresh corpse. A large mound of dirt and a shovel nearby were evidence of the work still to be done by the gravedigger taking a nap in his supply shed.

"Isn't he great?" Matthew asked, indicating the dead body resting in the grave. He offered Mary a hand, which she ignored as she jumped into the hole. Alice peered into the grave to view the corpse, then sat with Lucy to help the smaller girl brush her doll's hair.

Suzanne was straddling the corpse and busy fumbling with his belt. "Help me get his pants off," the older girl said. "I want to see how big he is."

"That's disgusting," Mary said. She patted down the dead man's shirt and dug her hands into the pockets of his jacket, hoping to find something she could sell.

"Aww, let her have her dead boyfriend," Matthew said. The boy scrambled around the body to get as close to Mary as he could. "Let's go do it behind the statue of the Angel of Death."

Mary pushed Matthew onto his rear. "I'm not doing anything with you!" she shouted. She turned away from Matthew and caught a glimpse of a ten foot black statue of a winged lady. The Angel of Death was fascinating, and Mary always wondered who was buried beneath it, but she wasn't really interested in exploring Matthew's carnal desires behind the statue.

Suzanne laughed as Matthew dusted himself off, and tugged at the corpse's pants. "Keep trying, Matthew," she said. "She'll come around some time."

"Shut up!" said Mary. Finding nothing in the dead man's jacket, she examined his cap. The cap was heavily worn, but only had three holes in it, so Mary claimed it for herself. She'd try trading it for an apple in the market sometime.

"Get away from him!" an old man yelled. "Go on, get!" The five kids looked up to find the gravedigger hobbling his way towards them. Lucy fled the cemetery with her doll clutched firmly in hand. Alice waited for Mary as she and Suzanne scrambled out of the grave behind Matthew. Suzanne bolted in one direction, Matthew in another, though not before he stole a kiss to Mary's cheek. Mary slapped the boy, grabbed Alice's hand, and raced around toppled tombstones. In no time at all, the kids had scattered, and the old man was left alone to bury the evidence of their desecration.

An old man lived in a decrepit old mansion overlooking the graveyard. Those who feared the man said he was a wizard, those who didn't said he was an eccentric old miser. Those who knew him knew he was an individual who enjoyed his privacy, his books, and his collection of curiosities.

One day word went around town that the old man had died. A great number of villagers showed up at his house, some to pay their respects, most to sate their curiosity. Mary held Alice's hand as the two sisters wandered into the house.

Alice was naturally looking forward to viewing another corpse so soon after finding the open grave in the cemetery, but a glimpse of the dead man would have to wait. The succulent scents wafting from the kitchen pushed all thoughts of the old man from Alice and Mary's minds. The promise of food always took precedence over fun.

The girls found the kitchen crowded with people. The table was covered with plates of turkey, ham, salads, cookies, and pie. There were enough kids running about that no one noticed two more. Mary grabbed two pieces of warm apple pie and sat with Alice on the floor.

For a moment, Alice thought she must have joined the old man in death. She had never tasted anything as delicious as apple pie in her life. She did her best to make the slice of pie last, to savor every bite, but she couldn't stop herself from shoving as much pie in her mouth as possible.

Mary had the same reaction and soon both girls had messy faces and sticky fingers. The sisters each helped themselves to a second piece and, fearing they would be kicked out of the house, ate their pie on the way into the living room.

The coffin was propped against a wall next to an old grandfather clock and opened for viewing. Several people dressed in black sat around drinking tea in delicate cups and spoke about their memories of the old man in soft voices, as if they were afraid to wake him from an afternoon nap. Alice stood on her toes to get a better look at the dead man. He had a peaceful look on a handsome face, and looked smart in a pressed black suit. His hair was white and a multitude of wrinkles suggested he was very old. Alice had never known her grandparents, and had little notion of what they were supposed to do, but she decided this man would have made a very good grandfather.

"Let's go take a look around upstairs," Mary whispered in Alice's ear. There were far too many people around for her comfort.

Mary led Alice up a curving flight of creaky steps. The second story was abandoned, and the voices downstairs were muffled under the floor. Alice and Mary discovered a large library, but as neither girl could read they were little interested in books. There were several bedrooms, including the Master bedroom in which rested the largest bed the girls had ever seen. Alice was tempted to climb into the four poster bed and take a nap, but Mary led her to a desk sitting in the corner.

On top of the desk rested a comb, a mirror, a bottle of shoe polish, a black enameled box, and an assortment of other objects. The room was lighted by a candleholder in the shape of a serpent. Mary gazed at her reflection in the mirror and tried pulling the comb through her hair. The comb quickly snagged on the tangle of her tresses, and Mary threw the comb across the floor. Alice had removed the top from the bottle of polish and was leaving black fingerprints on everything she touched.

Inside the little box Mary found a variety of jewelry. To Mary's eye there was nothing of value. No gold or silver or diamonds or rubies. Instead she discovered a red broach shaped as a scorpion, several useless purple barrettes, and a variety of cheap looking rings and pendants.

One ring in particular, however, piqued Mary's interest, though not because she thought she could trade it for some food. The ring was black with two triangular protrusions that reminded Mary of cat ears. The insides of the ears were white to further the resemblance. There were several white lines between the ears that Mary fancied as being whiskers. Words were engraved inside the ring, but of course Mary had no idea what they meant, nor was she the least bit curious to find out.

Mary slipped the ring onto her finger and was surprised to find it a perfect fit. She held up her hand and studied the ring.

"I want it," Alice said, tugging on Mary's arm.

Mary pulled away from her sister. "You can't have it. It's mine. I found it." Mary dug around inside the box and handed a green cylinder attached to a length of cord to Alice. "You can have that," Mary said.

"What is it?" Alice asked. She poked the cylinder and watched it swing and spin on the cord.

"How am I supposed to know?" Mary asked.

The girls opened the wardrobe and were about to dig through the old man's clothes when they heard footsteps in the hallway. They spun around to face the door just as an elderly lady peered into the room.

The old lady gasped upon discovery of two little girls ransacking the deceased's belongings. "What the devil are you little brats up to? Get out! Now!"

Mary and Alice ran from the room. The old lady yelped as she was nearly knocked off her feet and only just missed clutching Alice by the hair. Alice dropped the green pendant as she fled down the stairs. The mourners downstairs were shocked to witness such a display of disrespectful behavior, and they in turn yelled at the girls.

In the ensuing confusion, Alice and Mary dashed unimpeded through the front door and into the cemetery. No one bothered chasing two troublesome girls, and Mary escaped the mansion with a full stomach and a black cat ring.

Several days after Mary had found the ring in the old man's house, the sisters headed to the cemetery for an evening of fun and adventure. The sun had set an hour earlier, for what good was playing in the graveyard if it wasn't dark and gloomy. Mary admired her ring in the wan light of the street lamps.

As they entered the graveyard, Alice and Mary heard a loud and pathetic wailing from among the tombstones, from somewhere near the statue of the Angel of the Death. The sound terrified the two girls, so naturally they decided to check out the source. Nothing could have prepared them for what they would find.

The wailing was coming out of Lucy. Neither girl had ever heard so much as a peep from the little kid before now. Lucy was curled up on the cold, damp ground, clutching her hands to her chest. Blood spattered her dress, her face, her hair, and the nearest tombstone. Standing proudly above her was Courtney. Courtney's face was the usual mess of make-up, but blood also colored her hands. Arranged on top of the headstone before her was the bloody knife Alice and Mary had last seen eviscerating a chicken, and a series of long, straight objects Alice first thought were sticks. However Alice quickly realized the little objects Courtney was meticulously arranging on the headstone were not sticks.

Alice knew her sister had come to the same conclusion when Mary let out a blood-curdling scream. Courtney glanced up at the sisters and smiled brightly, looking quite happy with herself. "Look!" Courtney said. "I have new fingers!" Courtney picked up a finger and jabbed it against the stump on her hand. "Too small," she said, and placed it delicately aside to select another.

Alice stared at Courtney with wide eyes and shock evident on her face. "Did she... Did Courtney cut off Lucy's fingers?" she asked.

"I think so," said Mary, also visibly shaken. "We have to get Lucy to her mom."

Courtney's demeanor changed the moment Mary approached Lucy. She dropped the finger she had been studying and clutched the knife. "Stay away from her," Courtney snarled. "She belongs to me now."

"Are you going to kill her?" Mary asked in a wavering voice.

"No, but I bit my tongue the other day. Maybe I'll take hers," said Courtney.

Alice tugged on Mary's arm. "Come on. Let's get Lucy's mom and bring her here." Mary nodded to her sister, but just as they were about to run out of the graveyard, the girls heard a woman calling Courtney's name. Courtney saved Mary the trouble of yelling for help by shouting, "I'm over here, Mom!"

"Where have you been, Courtney? I've been searching all over for you," her mother said. A look of horror crossed her face as she examined the scene. The woman covered her mouth with her hands, lowered them again, and screamed. "Courtney, what have you done?" she gasped.

Courtney proudly held aloft one of Lucy's severed index fingers. "Look, Mom! Everything's okay now. It's a little small, but it's a close enough fit."

Courtney's mother had turned as white as a ghost and rushed towards her daughter. Courtney was as little impressed with her mother's advance as she was with Mary's attempted rescue of Lucy. The girl seized her knife, jumped onto the headstone, and lashed wildly at her mother.

The woman screamed and stumbled backwards. Blood spurted from the gash in her arm. She held a hand over the wound and fell moaning to the ground.

The sight of her mother bleeding and whimpering in pain brought Courtney to her senses. "Mommy?" Courtney said in a whisper. "Mommy!" she screamed. She threw down the knife and, as she ran for her mother, stepped on the neat row of fingers. The girl slipped, and for a moment seemed to hang suspended in mid air. She toppled to the ground, the back of her head struck the corner of the tombstone, and her neck made a loud, sick snapping sound.

"Courtney!" her mother screamed. Despite the blood flowing freely from her arm, the woman scooped the prone body of her daughter to her chest. Courtney's head lolled at an impossible angle. "Speak to me, Courtney!" Sobs broke the woman's wails as she cradled Courtney's lifeless body.

Mary grabbed Alice's hand and ran as fast as she could through the village. She stopped long enough to tell Lucy's parents what had happened at the cemetery before taking Alice back to their shelter. The sisters huddled together in silence for a long time, their hearts racing well after the run, before finding refuge from the nightmare they had witnessed in their sleep.

Neither of the children saw Lucy after that night. They didn't know if their little friend was alive or dead, and no one thought to go to her house to find out. They had all lost friends and family during their short lives. Death was simply a part of life on the street.

Alice stood outside the Singing Mermaid, gazing up at a window that hadn't been cleaned in months. She bit the tail off her freshly cooked half fish when the door opened and Mary stepped out of the tavern with a basket in hand. "What's that for?" Alice asked with her mouth full of fish.

"We have to go to the market. The captain said he'll pay us if we bring back the supplies on this list," said Mary. She flashed a scrap of paper with writing on it and tucked the list into her pocket. Mary squeezed Alice's hand to lead her through the streets.

"Ouch!" yelled Alice. She tugged her hand free of Mary's and sucked on her finger.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked.

Alice showed Mary a red and swollen finger. "One of the cats bit me, really hard. It hurts a lot."

Mary set the basket upside down on the ground and sat on it to examine Alice's finger. She poked and prodded and kissed the digit, then fished a dirty strip of ragged cloth from her pocket and wrapped her sister's finger. "How's that?" she asked.

"Better," said Alice.

Mary kissed Alice's head and picked up the basket. "Let's go. We don't want to keep the captain waiting all day."

Alice followed Mary through the busy streets and ate the remainder of her fish. Mary's blonde braid swayed hypnotically across her back as she dipped around clusters of people and into the market.

Mary pushed her way to a cheese vendor and presented her grocery list. The lady placed a number of items into Mary's basket and Mary handed her the fisher captain's money. "What else do I need?" Mary asked when the lady returned her change.

"You'll have to go across the square to get your hardtack and vegetables," said the lady with a smile.

Mary soon had a basket full of goods and was careful to put what was left of the captain's money safely away in her pocket. The basket was now much too heavy for Mary to carry alone, so she gripped one handle with both hands and Alice struggled with the other.

Mary and Alice made slow progress and several times had to set the basket down for a brief rest. Neither girl was disappointed when three horse drawn carriages rolled across their path and they were forced to stop to let the horses through.

"Whew! Who knew all this food would be so heavy," said Mary after she and Alice put the basket down once again.

"Yeah. It's too bad we can't eat some of it. We'd be full and the basket wouldn't be as heavy," Alice said. The last carriage in the caravan pulled to a halt, and Alice gazed up at the big brown horse snorting beside her.

"We can't eat the captain's food. He won't let us work for him anymore," said Mary.

"I know," Alice giggled. She looked up at a man suddenly hovering over Mary.

Mary turned back to find out what Alice was looking at. The man behind her wrapped his arms around the girl and lifted her off her feet. Mary let out a scream, but the man clapped a hand over her mouth to silence her and pulled the frantically struggling girl towards the carriage.

"Mary!" Alice yelled. She tripped over the basket, spilling food across the cobbled street, and hit the ground hard, scraping her hands and knees.

The man swore as Mary's desperate kicks connected with his shins. He tossed Mary into the carriage and caught her around the waist as she attempted to escape back out the door. "Alice!" she screamed. The man shoved Mary back inside and slammed the door behind him after climbing in after her.

"Go!" the man yelled to the driver in a gravelly voice.

Mary's pleas for help were heard for only a moment as the carriage driver cracked his whip and sent the horses into a frenzied dash down the street, scattering people before them. Alice ran after the carriage screaming Mary's name, but the horses soon pulled Mary and her abductor out of sight.

No one cared enough about a homeless thirteen-year-old girl to try to stop the kidnapping, or help the ten-year-old left behind. The fisher captain's errand forgotten, Alice wandered the city in a complete daze for two days. She cried herself to sleep every night for more than a month. But if Mary had taught her anything, it was how to survive. Alice would survive, and she would do it alone for five years.