Edit: A big thanks to my wonderful reviewers for pointing out my synonym issues! I've touched this chapter up a bit, though it still has that rushed air to it. The following chapters won't be this way, I assure you. Thanks once again!
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I don't own the LXG in any way, shape or form (other than the graphic novel and movie). All the characters are the property of their respected creators--all of whom I love--with the exception of my original characters that are as follows: Sock and Buskin, Celine Haddock, and the villiage of Aisling (with all its villagers) are belong to me. Please do not use without my permission--though I can't imagine why you'd want to.
This story was meant to be done sooner in honor of Halloween and all, but I just couldn't make the cut. I'm hoping to have it all done by Guy Fawkes Day, but knowing me, that's unlikely. I'd also like to apologize to all the UK readers out there for any mistakes my American-ness may make in future chapters. Keep me on my toes, guys!
Thanks for reading thus far, and enjoy:
Chapter One: To Catch an Early Bird
Somewhere near Ireland's west coast—October 30th, 1899
"Golly," breathed the accented voice of Tom Sawyer as he stood at the rail on the deck of the conning tower. His lightly freckled face was lit with both awe and the red-orange light of dawn, a soft smile beginning to creep up for the first time in months.
The view ahead of him was that of a large, verdant isle shrouded in sun-pinked mist. Wild horses could only just be seen running along the shoreline behind a curtain of ocean spray.
Gotta get me one of them, he noted silently, watching the herd. Maybe Mina'd like—
"Breath-taking, isn't it?"
Tom nearly leapt from his skin at the sudden appearance of the vampire in question.
"Land's sake, Mina! You're quieter than a cat on sawdust," he relaxed and attempted what he hoped to be a charming smile. "Good thing I'm not a mouse, huh?" he added with a weak laugh, knowing she could see through his poor disarming front.
"It would seem you're losing your touch, Mr. Sawyer," she said with her own slight smile, placing her hands on the rail near his.
"Nah, you just caught the early worm, Miss Bird," he said with the remnants of his old, cheeky grin. He then looked back out toward the islet where they'd soon be making port, a distant look in his hazel eyes.
Mina looked at Tom with her usual mask of blank emotion, allowing him all the time he needed for silence. She remembered how he'd detested the "eggshell-walking" at first, but as autumn began, he'd simply ignored it altogether. Mongolia had seemed to rob the plucky American of his optimism, and it killed her to see it happen.
Yet, this morning, a spark of the old Sawyer had returned. Maybe, with a little more encouragement…
"Do you like horses?"
"Pardon?" The question was so arbitrarily placed that Mina wasn't quite sure she'd heard him right.
"Horses; do you like 'em?" He then pointed out toward the nearing shore where the rollicking herd of horses, their coats glistening in the sunlight, was now grazing.
"I've always wanted one when I was a kid, so I could be a proper knight, like in my books, and—"
Mina suddenly cut across Tom's old flights of fancy in a sharp tone filled with tension and alarm.
"Tom, look there," she pointed a slender, sharp-nailed finger to a mass of flotsam that was about to pass the ship. "I think I see someone down there."
He followed her finger, his sharp eyes making out a fragile form lying prostrate on the driftwood, and another splashing frantically about like a mouse half-drowned. The young man cursed loudly in distress, already heading for the hatch inside.
"Those are two kids down there! I'll go tell Nemo to stop the boat, and grab Dr. Jekyll. You get them up here fast as you can, Mina." By the time she'd partially transformed and leapt over the railing, Tom had reached the stepladder's bottom and was now running.
While Sawyer was explaining to Nemo what they'd discovered as best he could, Skinner, Gentleman Thief, was down in the library. Though he was never much of a book-reader, preferring tableaus to the dry words of the modern writer, Rodney found lounging in the comfy chairs amongst the mute tomes a nice reprise from the monotonous white walls and portholes of the other rooms.
Besides, he added to himself, filling a tumbler up with amber liquid taken from the liquor cabinet near him. I can 'ave me fill without Patty breathin' down me neck.
Ever since Dr. Jekyll had started the process of healing Skinner's burns from Mongolia, First Mate Patel had taken his task of guarding the invisible thief's alcohol intake with almost alarming fervency.
"Bloke's a bleedin' mother 'en," Rodney grumbled at the thought of Patel, taking a long and satisfying drink from his glass. Suddenly, a shadow fell over him, and the floating nez pince glasses whipped around to look over his bandaged, invisible shoulder.
"Oh, Skinner," greeted the pleasant and meek voice of Dr. Jekyll. "I didn't even notice you come in. Well, I suppose it is a fairly big library—"
"—And I do 'ave that 'lack of visibility' problem, which could add to it," Skinner pointed out, not without good humor.
"Well, yes, that too." Jekyll managed a weak smile, shifting his grip on a thick book beneath his arm. Within the small, awkward silence—which seemed to follow poor Henry as closely as his vicious counterpart, Mr. Hyde—the good doctor raised a brow in suspicion, bordering reprimand, at the tumbler.
"I was also unaware that Mr. Patel was allowing you to drink so much today."
"Aw, come off it, Jekyll," Rodney groaned, setting the glass down and gesticulating with wrapped hands.
"Where's the 'arm in a little Scotch, hmm? Me mum always gave it to us whenever things like this came about."
It was meant as a joke, but like most of the thief's attempts at cajoling Jekyll, it failed.
"Yes, well, thankfully, I'm not your mother—"
"Could've fooled me," Skinner muttered sulkily.
"And furthermore, I sincerely doubt that excessive consumption of liquor will—"
"It's not 'excessive'! Give a chap a break—"
"Mr. Skinner!" Henry nearly shouted, his face turning red with frustration as he slammed his book down on a nearby table.
"I've enough interrupting from Edward, I don't need you assisting him!"
Another awkward pause, and it seemed that Rodney had been subdued into silence by Jekyll's outburst.
"Right. As I was trying to say—" The good doctor's monologue was, once more, cut short, this time by Tom Sawyer, who'd just burst into the room as though being pursued.
"There you are! Jekyll, we need you infirmary right away," Tom ordered, close to panting as he took hold of the bewildered physician's arm and started leading him out.
"Is s-someone hurt?" Henry questioned and quickened his pace to a short jog, his slight stutter making itself evident. "Is it Mina?"
Remember, Harry, whispered the harsh voice of Hyde within his mind. Her eye's on him now, so no playing "doctor."
"Mina's fine, doc," Tom reassured, oblivious to Jekyll's muttering ("Shut up!") or Hyde's commentary.
"She and I were up top when we spotted a couple of kids floatin' around in the sea. They're near frozen through."
Henry felt a mixture of relief and jealousy at Tom's assurance, followed closely by self-loathing.
Thankfully, any and all contradicting emotions dissipated as he slipped into a professional mode. Dr. Jekyll walked in ahead of Sawyer into the well-furnished ward, and his long strides brought him to the children's beds quickly.
The boy was thin, dark-haired and barely conscious; his sister was short, red-haired with curls and unmoving. Both looked to be about eight or nine.
A basic test for her pulse and pupil dilation told Jekyll she was stable, yet unconscious. The children were soon wrapped in thick blankets, with hot-water bottles placed beneath each of them.
"Sock-k…" the boy rasped out, greatly confusing Henry, since both of the boy's feet were now covered in two pairs of his own woolen stockings.
"M-my-my s-s-sister..." he managed between chattering teeth, small head lolling over to face the resting girl.
Henry smiled warmly and answered the unasked question. "She's going to be just fine. We're going to take very good care of you both, but you really must get some sleep now."
The little boy nodded listlessly, but managed one last puzzling sentiment before succumbing to a dreamless sleep.
"They tried to kill us…"