He was making a beeline right for the Curtain.
Darla pulled a dagger from her garter and before I took a step she hurled it right for Stricken’s chest.
It hit. Point first too. It would have been a fatal blow, had Stricken not been wearing chain beneath his fancy coat and vest.
He followed the dagger back to Darla and saw me. Then he drew his sword-my sword Toadsticker, mind you-and charged.
I leaped down from the small platform and charged right back, hauling the hand cannon out of its holster on the way. I forced myself to stop, a dozen paces from him. I forced myself to take a deep breath, to hold the thing steady with both hands, to squeeze the trigger firmly and with even, steady pressure.
The sound of the thing brought the room to a sudden, eerie silence. Men froze in mid-struggle. The Church Guards exchanged wary glances and tried to decide which one would move on me first.
Japeth Stricken died on the floor.
I lowered the hand cannon. If anyone had accompanied Stricken, I couldn’t pick them out.
“His name was Stricken,” I said in the sudden silence. “He was a murderer, and he came here to do murder. I’m sorry for spilling blood on your floor, Father Wickens. I didn’t see another way.”
“These are dark times,” said the Father. He pointed toward the doors. “Those of you who would go, go now. This changes nothing.”
I took Toadsticker from the dead man’s hand and holstered the hand cannon.
Darla was at my side.
“Nice gown, hon,” I said. “You here with anyone?”
“Why did he have your sword?”
“I’m sure he didn’t know who it belonged to. Someone dropped it at the Timbers when the fire broke out. He saw a fancy sword lying there, he grabbed it as he ran. Good thing he did, too.”
Stricken had dyed his hair blond and shaved off his moustache and beard. I wouldn’t have recognized him, in a crowd.
Darla looked up, shivered, and took my hand.
“Look.”
A solid bank of darkness was creeping across the sooty window, obliterating Angels and saints alike as it cast them into a dark as deep as midnight.
“It’s them, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Damn you, Evis, I thought. You hadn’t even said goodbye.
“Where should we go?”
I watched people fight to get through the doors.
Where should we go, indeed?
The Father shouted. Guards pushed and shoved. Half the grooms took Brides in hand and fled as well, leaving flowers and veils and top hats trampled in a messy wake.
When the ruckus was over, there were maybe thirty of us left, including Tamar, Carris, a half a dozen would- be wed couples, and a bevy of white-knuckled parents.
The Father ordered the doors closed and locked. Darla looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“The doors just closed. You are aware of that?”
“I am.”
“We’re still on this side of them.”
“We are.”
“What’s going on? Was that not the only villain in the crowd? What are you up too?”
“You’ll see. Just play along. We’re not done here yet.”
She bit her lip but nodded.
The other grooms had stepped from behind the Curtain when the ruckus started. Each stood beside their brides with expressions that ranged from the terrified to the determined.
Carris and Tamar were among the determined. Mr. Tibbles popped his head out of his lace-trimmed basket and gave me a murderous wedding day growl.
“Well,” said the Father as the soles of Japeth Stricken’s shoes vanished beneath a tablecloth. “This has been a most unusual ceremony. Take that as an omen, if you wish. Life is made of the unexpected. Punctuated with the tragic. Sometimes fearful. Sometimes dangerous. But despite these things, you few who have remained-despite these things, you have chosen to remain together, and consecrate your vows. I tell you plain, young men, young women. Yours shall be blessed unions, for you have already demonstrated your commitment to them in the face of grave peril.”
The darkness above blotted out half the window and moved with no hint of slowing.
The Father squinted up toward it and gestured at it.
“That is fear,” he said. The shadow crept. “That is what we all face, now and again. But look not above, dear ones. Look to each other. There, find love. And love, I tell you true, is always greater than fear.”
Darla and I looked at each other.
Even through her veil, I could see her eyes. I could see she was crying, though I didn’t know why.
“Lift the veil,” said the Father. “Gaze into the eyes of she who will be your wife.”
I lifted it. Tears ran down her cheeks. I smiled and brushed them away.
“Do you mean it?” she managed to say.
“Speak your vows, and know that the whole of Heaven hears them,” said the Father.
“I will be your shield,” I said. My voice shook, so I repeated the words. “I will be your shield.”
Her eyes went wide.
“I will be.” She stopped, looked at me. “Are you sure?”
The darkness above swallowed the sky.
“Never more sure about anything.”
“I will be your lamp,” she said.
“Present the rings,” said the Father.
I fumbled that bit, first handing her a round of ammunition for the hand cannon, but finally came up with a box, and then a ring.
Her hand shook as I placed it on her finger. Hell, my hand shook as I placed it on her finger.
“Do you each vow, before Earth and Heaven, before Church and Host, that you will be Husband and Wife?”
“I do,” we said as one.
The Bell began to sound. It rang out a dozen times, good and loud and clear, though the noonday was dark as night.
There was something else, sounding with the Bell.
Something like thunder, and yet not thunder.
Something I’d heard before.
Flashes began to light the sky beyond the sooty glass, on the tenth peal of the bell. Flashes followed by not- quite thunder.
I held Darla close, on the tenth peal.
On the final peal we kissed.
The sky flashed and thundered and flashed.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” said Father Wickens. “Blessings of the Hosts upon you, I suggest we retire to the catacombs with haste, amen.”
Something came falling down on the glass, peppering it with small thuds and pings. I broke off our kiss and took my wife’s hand and we made for the dubious safety of the alcove behind the Curtain.
Tamar and Carris followed, as did half a dozen other assorted souls.
The ancient glass tinkled and popped. The sky beyond shook with thunder’s strange cousin.
Darla cried in my arms, but smiled despite crying.
“I didn’t think you’d do it,” she said. “Husband.”
“Should have married you years ago. I hope you’ll forgive my tardiness.”
She hugged me, and I needed no answer more than that.
