Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2)

by Rachel Cotterill

  *

  Eleanor returned from the schools in high spirits. She was sure she’d made a good impression on the boys, and she was glad to be coaxing her body back into the peak of fitness. She almost felt human again.

  Daniel and Matt were working in his lab when she got home, while Isabelle slept in a trunk that he’d propped open in one corner.

  “I’m back,” she said, somewhat unnecessarily.

  “Isabelle missed you,” Daniel said. “She cried for days.”

  “She can’t possibly know who I am,” Eleanor said, picking up the baby and cradling her. The girl had grown noticeably bigger, and had developed a shock of messy, white-blonde hair on her head. “She’s a helpless, mindless baby – babies can’t recognise people.”

  “She knows you. You should not have left her alone.”

  “And I had a good trip, thanks for asking.”

  “Good. But you must catch up with our daughter’s progress. Whenever I give her something to play with she puts it in her mouth.”

  “I can see that,” Eleanor said, looking down to where Isabelle had woken and was chewing on her sleeve.

  “And she is hungry often. I think she will be ready for real food soon.”

  “Speaking of food, have you eaten yet?”

  “We are busy,” Daniel said, waving towards a beaker resting above a small burner.

  “You two go and get some dinner,” Matt said. “I can finish up here.”

  “Are you sure?” Daniel checked, but Matt waved them away.

  They went down to the dining room, and Eleanor balanced Isabelle on her knee while they ate. She dipped her finger into her soup to offer a taste to the girl, who was so enthusiastic that she nipped Eleanor’s finger with a tooth that hadn’t been there before.

  “You’re right,” she said to Daniel. “We should try giving her more normal foods. I think she likes the soup.”

  Daniel dipped a piece of bread in his soup, left it until it was soggy, and pushed it between Isabelle’s lips. She smiled and gurgled and dripped soup all down the front of her blanket, but she still seemed happy about it.

  “Oh, and I’ve got something you might be interested in,” Eleanor said, fishing around in her pocket for the note from Lauren. “Details of a couple of new poisons, developed from mistflowers that Ivan brought back from the mountains.”

  “Let me see,” Daniel said, taking the paper and scanning across it. “Mistflowers. I have not heard of these. Where did you get this?”

  “Contacts in the Shadows,” she said. “It’s complicated. But I thought you’d like to know.”

  Lauren had included one example stalk of tiny lilac-and-white flowers, pressed and dried, which Daniel examined reverently.

  “We have missed them,” he said, scanning the notes again. “A very short flowering period, this says, in the early spring.”

  “Maybe next year.”

  “Next year, yes.” He got to his feet. “If the effects are as described, then we must study this.”

  “Right now?”

  He held up the dried-out sprig of flowers, stalk pinched tightly between thumb and forefinger. “I have to store this safely. Poison flowers are not meant for the dinner table.”

  “You haven’t even finished...” she started to protest, but he was gone. She wiped a drip of soup from Isabelle’s chin. “Looks like it’s just the two of us, then, Bella.”

  While Eleanor was wiping her face, Isabelle reached up and wrapped her fingers around the edge of Daniel’s bowl. Then she pulled, hard, and sent the whole thing crashing onto the floor. Eleanor cursed as soup splashed around her feet, but Isabelle just giggled.

  With one arm firmly wrapped around the baby to prevent any further mishaps, Eleanor finished her own soup, and then bent to clear up the spillage. Isabelle reached out to put her fingers into the puddle of soup and smeared red lines across Eleanor’s face, beaming as she did so.

  “Okay, fine,” Eleanor said, glad there was no-one else in the dining hall to see the mess. “You’ve covered mamma’s face in soup, was that fun? Now let’s go and get clean.”

  She left the crockery fragments on the table with her dirty bowl, carried Isabelle back through to Daniel’s lab, and left her there while she went to bathe. Her ablutions were disturbed, however, when Isabelle started screaming.

  “She is hungry,” Daniel said, carrying the child awkwardly into the bathroom and holding her out towards Eleanor. “You should feed her.”

  “Hang on, let me finish.” Eleanor scrubbed quickly at her skin, clambered from the bath, and picked up her towel while Isabelle continued to bawl at her. Once she was dry she took Isabelle from Daniel’s arms and held the little mouth up to her breast, just as she’d done so many times before she left, though the new tooth made her nervous.

  Isabelle stopped crying, sucked, and... nothing happened. The expected flow of milk didn’t come. Eleanor squeezed her breast, wondering if something was blocked, but to no avail. She tried her other breast, but the same thing happened.

  “It’s not working,” Eleanor said, looking to Daniel for an explanation. “There’s just nothing happening.”

  Daniel studied her for a moment. “Your breasts have shrunk while you were away,” he said. “Perhaps the milk is gone.”

  “Do you have something I could take for that?”

  “I will think on it.”

  “Well, who did you find to feed her while I was gone? We’d better keep her here a bit longer.”