Chương 25: Practice Makes Eyelashes Burn

It was so hot. Oh, why did I have to fall asleep with that thick wool blanket pulled up to my chin right before the loop started? I threw the heavy blanket off me with a huff. Now I had no pistol, no gold, and no friends. But falter not, I will get all three quickly enough. I needed them, because this cycle I'm going to get real busy.

"I'm sorry if Your Highness objects to an early breakfast," I heard Cinderella calling to Lucifer through my door.

"It's certainly not my idea to feed you first. It's orders." When I get you the time-looper journal, you won't have to follow any orders, I thought. I lay in my bed, trying to mentally review all the things I had memorized yesterday to see if they were still in my dumb head. This and this about the prince, this and that about the Grand Duke, this silly minister, that guard, the Butler, the Head Cook, the High Steward, even the scullery maid. Ugh, it was too much to remember!

"CINDERELLA!"

"CINDERELLA!" Screech mother and sister. Oh, by Jove, to the devil with them both!

"Hang on, I'm coming!" Cinderella shouted from below. I scrambled out of bed and shoved the heavy chest of drawers across the floor until it blocked the door. Then I quickly retreated back to my bed. I wasn't crying today, no, but I didn't want to see that cold stare of hers; it always hurt too much. A moment later, the door simply swung outward into the hallway. Right. It opens that way.

"Oh my," Cinderella said, peering around the doorframe at the barricade.

"Rearranging the furniture this early? But how would you even..." I dove beneath my blanket, embarrassed.

"Leave me be, please!" I muffled into the pillows.

"Did you just say…"

"Go away!" I heard the door close. I peeked beneath the blanket to make sure. Good. Back to scheming. I will go first thing to Widow Claire's house to get my gold. Yes… my beautiful gold. And then, I planned to go to Bastien's place. In an hour or so, he was supposed to return from his night shift and go to sleep. I would present myself to the housemaid, have her make me tea, and steal his pistol. I was thinking of going to a secluded place to practice my marksmanship.

Now that I had gold, I could probably just use it to buy a pistol that was lighter and more suited to me. But I didn't think we had a proper gunsmith in town, and anyway, I liked the idea of taking Bastien's pistol. I liked how heavy and loud it was. Plus, it was that B. M. P. thing time-loopers do—I needed to practice that.

"UUAUAAA!!" Anastasia screamed. Oh, I guess it was Anastasia's turn to get random Gus.

"Oh, Mother! Mother!" Anastasia was shouting in a pure panic. Well, this was nothing I should trouble myself with. Let them scream. But then…

"Lucifer, no!" Cinderella shouted.

"Do it, Lucifer! Catch him! Kill the beast!" called Anastasia viciously. More screams erupted, followed by frantic squeaking, a loud crash, and a vicious Mrrooow! The hallway descended into absolute chaos. Umm… that wasn't normal. I sighed. I guessed I had to check things out. I yanked my door open, awkwardly clambering over the chest of drawers blocking my way. The scene in the hallway was pure pandemonium. Lucifer had caught Gus under his paw.

Cinderella was holding Lucifer's tail with one hand, while Anastasia tried to pry Cinderella's hand away to release the cat.

"Let him go!" screeched Anastasia.

"No!" Cinderella shouted.

"Lucifer, release him!"

"Mraaow! Hissss!"

"What is all that noise?!" Mother threw her door open, taking it all in with wide eyes. Then Anastasia, the absolute savage thing she was, opened her mouth and actually threatened to bite Cinderella's hand! Cinderella reluctantly had to retract her arm to avoid getting bitten, releasing Lucifer's tail. Lucifer snatched Gus by the shirt in his jaws and carried him away from Cinderella. He gave her one hateful, triumphant glare. Then, he sank his sharp canines deep into Gus's tiny chest.

"AAHHHA!" Gus squeaked in a tiny, agonizing voice as the teeth pierced him.

"NO!" screamed Cinderella in horror. Oh, I guess I actually need to interfere here.

"That is a bad liaison!" I shouted, closing the distance in a few short steps and grabbing the cat.

"Release him now!" Demonic liaison from hell or whatever he was, he was still my silly fat cat in my house, and I was not afraid of him.

"Mrrraow!" Lucifer warned, very much not releasing the fat mouse.

"HELP!!" Gus squeaked in a pure, blind panic.

"HELP!! HELP!"

"Now!" I warned, and started shaking him.

"Mrrraow!!" he growled back. Using my fingers, I forcefully pried his jaws open. Gus tumbled to the floor. Lucifer gave me one last betrayed look and scurried away.

"I'm hurt! Help! Hurt!" shouted Gus in his high-pitched, cracking voice.

"Help! It's… blood! blood!" I looked down at the poor creature. His right arm was twisted at a unnatural angle. Worse, there was a jagged puncture wound on the right side of his chest, oozing a horrifying amount of dark red blood for such a tiny mouse.

"Oh no!" Cinderella rushed over and cupped Gus gently in her hands.

"Oh no, poor Gus!"

"What is happening here?!" Mother demanded, marching over to Cinderella to inspect the mess.

"Oh, disgusting! Throw it away, it will bleed all over the carpet!"

"Hurt! Gus hurt!" He kept squeaking.

"Gus don't want to die! No, no, no!"

"It speaks!" Mother gasped.

"It speaks!" Anastasia echoed, horrified.

"Oh, we must help him!" cried Cinderella.

"But I… I'm not sure…" Oh, what a mess! And the day had barely just started! Goodness. Well, I think I have an idea.

"Mother, don't you see?!" I said in a tone of absolute wonder.

"This is a magical, talking mouse! It… it must be worth an absolute fortune!"

"A what now!?" Mother gasped, her eyes suddenly narrowing with sharp interest.

"Yes, Mother!" I continued enthusiastically.

"Think about how much a circus would pay! Or a Parisian sideshow! Or a wealthy oddity collector! I bet he's the only talking mouse in all of France. He must be worth thousands of francs!"

"Thousands…" she murmured, dollar signs practically flashing in her eyes.

"Mother!" Anastasia chirped.

"We will be rich!"

"But he is dying, Mother!" I added, feigning deep distress.

"We must help him somehow."

"Oh!" Mother turned to Cinderella.

"Give it here!" Cinderella hesitated. I caught her arm, locking my gaze with hers and giving a firm, reassuring nod. She blinked, nodded back, and gently placed the bleeding mouse into Mother's cupped hands.

"We haven't a moment to lose!" said Mother.

"The town Farrier! He mainly treats horses, but he sets bones for dogs, too. He will know what to do with the mouse." They deposited Gus into a small velvet-lined shoe box and rushed down the stairs, practically tripping over their own skirts in their haste to leave.

"There," I said, turning to Cinderella, whose eyes were still wide and brimming with tears.

"I'm really not sure Gus will pull through, but maybe with this horse doctor, he might have a chance." Cinderella nodded slowly, clearly digesting everything that had just happened.

"Well, I need to get dressed and head out myself," I said, straightening my nightgown.

"I have an awfully busy day ahead of me." I started heading back to my room, but Cinderella caught my arm. I raised my gaze to meet hers, suddenly hesitating, but her look wasn't cold.

"Thank you, Drizella," she said. her voice thick with emotion.

"You really helped Gus, and… I don't know why you…"

"Yes, quite so," I murmured, averting my gaze.

"Well, I'm really in a hurry." You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. I absolutely did not want to have this highly emotional talk with Cinderella right now! I was terrified I might just break down, cry horribly, and pathetically beg for her friendship like I did last time! I went back to my room, and awkwardly climbed over the heavy chest of drawers to get inside. Oh… that barricade was a really stupid idea!

I put on my simple blue day dress, brushed my hair, and headed out of the house, walking briskly to Widow Claire's house. I was there shortly, slipping inside the quiet parlor. I immediately went to the bookcases, counted to the sixth book from the left on the upper row, and retrieved the heavy wooden box. I opened the latch, spilled the coins onto the table, and held all fifty gold Louis coins in my bare hands, smiling maniacally to myself. Gold… my gold!

Then I thought, this place was probably used by the time looper to store many other valuables. So there were probably more hidden treasures here… maybe more gold? No, no, that would be a bad idea to steal from them. And besides, it's not like I knew how to spend 1, 000 francs in just two days! Next, I headed to Bastien's house. I tried to remember his sister's name… It was Sylvie, yes, and she was currently in Paris. I knocked on the door, and soon enough, Agathe the maid opened it.

I immediately put on a highly distressed, lost expression. It was acting time.

"Oh, excuse me, I just… I wasn't sure," I mumbled.

"Please, calm down, miss," Agathe gestured calmly with her hands.

"Who are you looking for?"

"My name is Sophie. Is this… mayhaps, Sylvie's place?"

"Yes, it is," said Agathe.

"But she isn't home. She's on a trip to Paris, actually."

"Oh.." I looked deeply surprised, and then utterly devastated.

"What a terrible shame…"

"Are you a friend of Sylvie's?" Agathe asked, looking worried herself. Wow, I think I wasn't bad at this acting thing.

"Yes, ah, we study together," I said.

"Oh, I was so sure she was home. We talked about meeting in the summer. And I walked all this way…" I let out a heavy sigh, letting my shoulders slump as if I might faint from the sheer disappointment.

"Please, come inside," Agathe said, gesturing for me to follow her to the parlor.

"You should rest, at least. Can I offer you water?"

"A cup of tea will do," I dramatically sighted, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead.

"Of course, miss," said Agathe, disappearing into the kitchen. I quickly hopped up and slipped into the storeroom near the entrance. It took me less than thirty seconds to locate the heavy pistol and the leather belt containing the black powder and lead balls. Wait. If I just left the house right now with the pistol, Agathe would come back in a few minutes, see me missing, and suspect my weird behavior. She might check to see if I stole something. That was a risk.

So, clutching the weapon and belt, I silently unlatched the front door, slipped outside, and shoved the pistol deep into a thick, thorny bush by the porch. I smoothed my skirts and breezed back into the parlor. I looked at the clock above the fireplace; the whole maneuver had taken less than three minutes. I drank the tea when it arrived, thanked Agathe, and let her escort me out of the house. Once she closed the door, I retrieved the pistol from the bush and was on my way. I think… that was perfect.

I felt a zing of excitement. I did it! Not just the hepopitical planning, but the real thing. I acted like… like a time looper! The part where I realized I needed to hide the pistol outside first so as not to arouse suspicion… I hadn't thought about that beforehand. It was a lesson: there will always be small details to think about that I might initially miss. Yes, Bastien would wake up eventually, probably before his next night shift, and discover his pistol gone.

Agathe would tell him about the visit from Sylvie's friend, and he would suspect I stole it. But all he would have is Agathe's vague description of a young lady. That could be literally anyone. He wouldn't have any way to locate me. I did feel a twinge of guilt. Bastien did like his pistol. But, it's not like catching smugglers because they didn't pay taxes was an important job. Oh well, maybe he has a spare pistol.

I shoved the pistol into my reticule handbag—it barely fit—and tied the ammunition belt awkwardly around my wrist, hidden beneath my dress. I walked a short distance out of town to a secluded copse of trees bordering a grassy hill. This was a reasonably safe place to shoot, far enough away from the nearby townhouses that the noise shouldn't bother. I found a suitable target: the shattered, rotting remains of a tree. I paced out ten steps from it to match the distance of the shot I took with Bastien on the beach.

I pulled out the pistol and belt, trying to do exactly as I remembered. First, bring the hammer to half-cock. I pulled the metal striker back until it clicked and locked. This, he had said, is the safety position. Now the cartridge. I took one of the paper tubes from the belt and bit the tip off. I spat the bitter, foul-tasting paper out of my mouth. Pah! Tfu! Revolting. I'm definitely bringing scissors next time! Now, prime the pan. I poured a small amount of black powder into the little shelf on the side…

like this? More? It was hard to remember the exact amount. The rest went down the barrel; I poured it all in. Then I inserted the paper-wrapped heavy lead ball into the barrel. I took the steel ramrod and started shunting the ball down. I hit it hard. I hit it again… it wasn't moving! The stupid lead ball is stuck! I hit it more and more, grunting with effort, using all my meager physical strength. It moved, very slowly, scraping against the iron. Finally, it hit the bottom and was firmly in place!

By heaven, I was panting already! It looked so easy when Bastien did it with only two smooth strokes! Now the full cock. I pulled the hammer back farther. That's it! It was finally ready. Now came my favorite part. I raised the heavy pistol, leveled the barrel at the center of the rotting trunk. Oh, I had waited so long for this. I squeezed the trigger. Clack-fizz! The flint struck the steel, sending a bright shower of sparks into the pan. And…. Nothing.

A tiny wisp of white smoke curled up into the air, but the heavy recoil and thunderous BOOM I expected never came. I lowered the weapon with a heavy sigh. Darn it. I must have been too timid with the prime. Wiping a smudge of soot from my cheek, I pulled a fresh cartridge from my belt, bit off the top with a grimace, and prepared to add a little more powder to the pan. I pulled the hammer to half-cock and opened it.

Determined not to fail again, I poured the black powder until it formed a dark little mountain, spilling slightly over the edges. That ought to do it. I crunched the steel cover shut, pulled the hammer to full cock, and aimed at the rotting trunk. I braced myself and squeezed the trigger. Clack—FWOOSH! A blinding, hissing globe of fire erupted inches from my face. I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut as a wave of searing heat washed over me. For a heartbeat, nothing else happened. Then— BOOM!

A deafening roar split the air. Because I had jerked away from the fireball, the heavy pistol bucked wildly out of alignment, kicking my hand upward. I stumbled backward, coughing in a thick, sulfurous cloud of white smoke. My ears were ringing like church bells. I touched my face; my skin felt hot, and the dreadful scent of singed eyelashes and burnt hair filled my nose. As the smoke cleared, I checked the old trunk. It was completely untouched. My hands shook as I let the heavy pistol drop to my side.

"Right," I muttered to the empty woods, "Less powder in the pan next time." This was horribly hard! But I wasn't in a giving-up sort of mood. I tried once more. Pour not too much, not too little. Aim the gun, hold it true with both hands, pull the trigger… CRACK! The pistol kicked back hard, but I was ready for it. Through the thick, white smoke, I saw the dried wood splinter and split! Success! Finally!

Despite the initial failure, despite my burnt eyelashes, and the burning pain in the muscles of my hand, shoulder, and… neck too? Despite it all, I loved it. I bloody did it, and this time, without Bastien! I braced myself for another round. I needed to get better at this. I mostly hated practicing and learning things, but this specific practice made a loud boom and shattered wood, and I loved it. This time, I measured out fifteen steps from a dry tree. And I bloody hit it, too. Twenty steps? A total miss.

I liked it better when it hit! Back to fifteen. I fired five more shots until my body was a symphony of aches. My hand, my shoulder, my neck—every single muscle throbbed. I sat down to rest. This was so utterly exhausting, but wildly fun. Despite being a pile of pain and probably looking like a chimney sweep, I smiled widely to myself. I had power now. I felt strong. If someone tried to cross me, well, they could bloody well look like the splintered wood all over the ground! Now, the next thing.

I needed to get back home for a bath. My busy day had only just started, and there was no seducing the Prince looking and smelling like a gunpowder keg. I shoved the smoking pistol, along with the remaining cartridges and balls, back inside my reticule, and headed back home. I trudged back up the path to the Chateau, slipping through the front door. It didn't look like Mother and Anastasia had returned yet. Well, a bath first…

"Goodness, Drizella, what happened to you?" Cinderella caught me in the hall.

"You look, well—" Cinderella then smiled.

"—like me." I still didn't really want to talk to her, but I couldn't help but smile at that.

"Just practicing my marksmanship," I said. I couldn't think of a good lie, and honestly didn't see any reason to.

"That's not true…" she began, clearly not believing me, but then I partially drew the heavy steel barrel of the pistol from my reticule before letting it slip back inside. Cinderella gasped.

"How do you… Oh, but you are just suddenly a completely different person!" She looked me over.

"What you did with Gus, and… I truly don't understand it."

"Well, maybe I will tell you later," I said.

"But I'm awfully in a hurry. I'm off to the bath. In the meantime, fetch me Suzy, will you?"

"Fetch… Suzy?" she asked, entirely confused.

"Yes," I said.

"I do need her help." I left her there, utterly baffled. When I finished washing up, I found Cinderella and Suzy waiting in the parlor. They gave me this incredibly serious look. Oh, I guess I had to explain things to them about the time loop… So I did, and it was really awkward, even though I kept it simple and didn't say anything about the royal ball, the Fairy Godmother, or the Prince.

"So I was friends with you both," I concluded.

"And if I do this secret mission for these time-looper guys, I will get this time-looper journal to give to Cinderella. That way, through her writing, she can remember what happens in each cycle."

"Oh, that sounds really handy!" Cinderella smiled to herself.

"I can learn how not to anger Stepmother, which method of scrubbing works best for the hearth, how to avoid punishments, and exactly which shade of pink ribbon best suits the female mice's dresses!" I stared at her, utterly dumbstruck. I was sure she was supposed to be the smart one!

"Oh, but this mission you need to do," she added.

"I'm all curious now."

"I obviously can't tell you! It's a secret mission!" If I told her, she would preach to me about how stealing is wrong, and I'd never hear the end of it.

"But it's important," Suzy squeaked seriously.

"And it will help Cinderelly. I want to help."

"Good," I said.

"Get inside my pocket. It's comfy in there, you liked it before." Suzy climbed up my dress and settled into my pocket.

"It is comfy here!" she squeaked. Suddenly, the front door unlatched with a loud clank, and Mother and Anastasia hurried inside, clutching the velvet shoe box.

"Is Gus there?" Cinderella jumped up, looking deeply worried.

"Oh, is he alright? He must be!"

"It's all dark in here!" Gus's squeaky voice echoed from inside the box.

"All dark! Gus-Gus can't see!"

"The Farrier patched him up and splinted his broken little arm," Mother said, sounding exhausted.

"I had to pay him extra to keep his big mouth shut about the talking mouse. But yes, he thinks the fat rat will make it. He just needs to rest for few days and be kept far out of the cat's reach."

"Better give him to Cinderella," I chimed in.

"She's good at taking care of mice. She does it all the time."

"Eww gross!" Anastasia gave Cinderella a look of pure disgust.

"Why am I not surprised…"

"Well, do it then." Mother, also looking disgusted, shoved the box into Cinderella's hands.

"Keep him safe as if your life depends on it! If he dies… well… you will owe me 10, 000 francs!"

"Yes, Stepmother," Cinderella smiled warmly.

"And thank you for getting him treated."

"Well, now that all that is behind us," I said, smoothing my skirts, "I'd better get going. I'm running late on my schedule as it is."

"Stop talking nonsense," Mother barked at me.

"You are not going anywhere. Get ready for your music lesson!"

"Oh, but I don't need it anymore," I gave her a sugary sweet smile.

"Cinderella here will teach me. She does a much better job at it."

"Wha—WHAT?!" Mother gasped.

"See you later!" I chirped. I spun on my heel, marched straight out the front door, and pulled it firmly shut behind me.

"DRIZELLA?!" Mother's muffled shout echoed from inside the house.

"Come back this instant!" But I was already on my way. I still didn't know exactly how I was going to get the vault key from the Prince, but a vague idea was starting to formulate in my head. I'd need to buy some fake jewelry, a bottle of chloroform, a rope ladder, and some cheese. And so, armed with fifty gold coins, a sneaky mouse, and a Model IX cavalry pistol, I headed to the market to begin my very first mission as a time looper.