by Gaie Sebold
“Hmm. All right, maybe. But all this about the Folk – how’d you know it all? And how’d I know it’s true?”
Liu closed his eyes, and dropped his head towards his chest, with a sigh. “Because I, like Holmforth, am a mixtus. My mother was human. My father was a fox-spirit; a kind of Folk that is found in China. Now do you believe me?”
“What? No! You don’t look like Folk at all!”
“So sharp-eyed, and you never noticed.” He began to shuffle one trouser leg up his shin. “This is very uncomfortable,” he said. “But it is the one thing that never changes, so it has to be hidden.”
Poking out of the bottom of his blue silk trouser leg was a white-tipped fox tail. It waggled, oddly jaunty.
Eveline stared. “That’s... You’re having me on.”
“No.”
She jumped to her feet, furious. “Oh, you... I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I’m not falling for it. All this time, you were Folk? You’ve been helping me just so’s you’d get me on side, haven’t you? Make me do what you wanted? Your Empress and mine are not at odds, indeed. I thought you meant the Chinese Empress, but you never did, did you?”
“Lady Sparrow...” Liu jumped to his feet.
“Don’t call me that. You’re a spy, a spy for them. You were trying to get me to be a traitor. Well, I might be a thief and I might not care anything for the Empire or any of that business, but work for you lot? Not for a minute. Not ever. You’d better get out of here before I tell them what you are, and what you tried to pull.”
“Eveline, please! I’m trying...”
“Go away.” She realised she was crying, and it made her even angrier. “Go away! Get out of here! Leave me alone!”
“EVELINE, WHAT IS it?” Beth said.
“Nothing.”
“What’s happened?”
“Liu.”
“Liu?”
“He’s... he wasn’t... I’m sorry, Beth. I thought – I shoulda known better than to trust him. I thought he was all right. He ain’t.”
Beth’s face whitened. “What do you mean?”
“He’s Folk.”
“What?”
“He’s Folk. He’s one of them. Half-folk, anyway. He was trying to put one over on me. I shoulda seen it, but I was stupid.”
“The...” Beth glanced towards the hidden shed where she kept the Sacagawea.
“I don’t think he cares about that.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not. I’m sorry. But I don’t think he’d get anything out of telling Miss Grim, if it’s any comfort.”
“Telling Miss Cairngrim what?”
The girls spun around. There, dapper in the lamplight, was Holmforth. “I thought I would come and see how you are progressing,” he said. “I am glad to see you hard at work. What was it someone was going to tell Miss Cairngrim? I really don’t think she would appreciate that sobriquet.”
“Nothing,” Eveline said.
“Really. And you must be Miss Hastings?” He bowed over Beth’s hand. “Charmed, I’m sure. Have you been helping Miss Duchen?”
“I’ve been trying,” Beth said.
“I see. Well, since you have become involved, perhaps we should take you with us. Don’t you think?” He spun around to Eveline.
“Take her where?” Eveline said.
“Shanghai.”
“What? When?” Eveline stuttered.
“Me?” Beth squeaked. “Go to Shanghai?”
“Since Miss Duchen seems to find your assistance useful, yes.”
Beth glanced at Eveline, who gave the smallest possible shrug.
“In an airship?”
“Of a certainty, in an airship.”
“Oh, yes, please!” She beamed.
Eveline bit her lip. She was pretty certain Holmforth hadn’t been asking. Why did he want Beth along?
And that was not, by a long chalk, her worst problem.
Holmforth was taking her to Shanghai. To make his infernal machine, whatever it was, work. And she still didn’t know how.
And what about Mama? How was she going to keep her fed and cared for while she was away?
EVERY TIME SHE came up here, she was certain she was going to be caught; the back of her neck twitched with every rustle and creak.
“Mama, I brought you some food. It’s not much – potatoes, mostly – I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Mama’s voice sounded almost as pale as she looked, as she pushed herself out of the ancient sagging chair and came to hug Eveline.
“Mind the potatoes! Oh, and I brought a book.”
“Oh, how marvellous!” Mama almost snatched the book out of Eveline’s hand, holding it close under the lamp and peering.
“It’s just some Shakespeare. I found it in the library.”
“Never say just Shakespeare, Eveline. What a delight. They would give us ‘improving tracts’ and other pap. Nothing to excite the brain, you see.”
“I’ll bring some more. Only, Mama, you’ll have to be careful about using the lamp. Someone might see.”
“I’ll be careful,” she said, though wistfully. “My darling, I can’t stay here much longer. Sooner or later someone is bound to find me.”
“I know, Mama. I’m trying to think of what to do. I’m going to have to be away for a little while. I was going to ask Beth to help, but now...”
“What about that young man who drove me here? Can he help?”
“No,” Eveline said. “No, he can’t, and I wish I’d never trusted him.”
“I’m sorry you feel like that, Lady Sparrow,” said Liu. He was standing by the open door that Eveline knew she had shut behind her. “Madam Duchen.” He bowed.
“Liu? How the...” Eveline swallowed the curse and contented herself with glaring. “Don’t do that.”
Liu was wearing dark green silks. Even in the dim lamplight, he looked weary and strained, not the merry imp she was used to. She shoved down the impulse to ask him what was wrong. Don’t be soft, Eveline Duchen. He’d love to know you felt sorry for him. Remember who he is. “What do you want?” she said. “It’s not safe, you coming up here. Someone’ll see.”
“No, they will not, I promise. I hoped that I might be able to persuade you...” He glanced at Madeleine Duchen. “Your daughter does not trust me, because my father was of the Folk.”
“He was?” Madeleine Duchen looked puzzled. “I didn’t know there were Chinese Folk.”
“Oh, yes. But I spend much of my time with the Folk of your lands. And that is why... perhaps I should get to the meat of why I am here?”
“Yes,” Eveline said. “Why don’t you?”
“I have been doing some investigating. I need you to believe me, Eveline. I need you to trust me. And I found out something I hope will please you. So...” He turned away, and made a gesture to the corridor.
Eveline, convinced he had betrayed them, expecting Miss Cairngrim and a phalanx of policemen, blinked as a slender young woman appeared.
She was slight, with a mass of curly black hair tumbling to her waist, dressed in a flowing gown of some pale green stuff and fragile, gilded shoes, completely unsuitable for the weather. She looked about fourteen.
“Who’s this? Another one of your Folk?” Eveline said.
“Oh, I’m not his,” the young woman said, giving Liu a glance that verged on contempt. “My name’s Charlotte. I suppose you must be Eveline.”
“CHARLOTTE?” FOR A moment the name meant nothing at all. Then Eveline heard her mother whisper, “Charlotte? My Charlotte?”
“Are you my mother?”
“No!” Eveline said. “No, it’s a trick! You... how could you, Liu? I know you’re Folk...”
“...half...”
“I didn’t think you were cruel.” She flung her arms around her mother, who stood rigid, her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes huge, staring. “What is this?” Eveline said. “Charlotte’s dead.”
“No,” Liu said. “Charlo
tte isn’t dead.”
“Of course I’m not dead,” said the girl. She had made no motion to approach either Eveline or Madeleine, but stood poised by the door. “This place is very dark. And it smells. I want to go.”
“Tell them who you are,” Liu said.
“I am Charlotte, a groundling, under the protection of Aiden of the Court Emerald,” she recited, with a sort of resentful boredom.
“Tell them what groundling means,” Liu said.
“It means I’m not Folk. It means I’m a human. I’m Aiden’s. He doesn’t care, he likes me.”
“Aiden,” Eveline said. “You know Aiden.”
“I don’t know him, I’m his.”
“I don’t understand,” Eveline said, looking at this strange, chilly, rude girl.
“I think I do,” Madeleine said, her voice unsteady. She put her arm around Eveline’s trembling shoulders. “Eveline told me what happened, in the woods. He saw you there, and realised you were sick, perhaps dying, and decided to take you in – like a stray puppy. You’re a changeling, aren’t you, my dear?”
Eveline fought to control her whirling thoughts. “I thought changelings... I thought they left a fairy child...”
“Oh, perhaps they have, in the past,” Madeleine said, “but mostly, it’s just a thing, a sort of mannequin. There was one in the village, when you were tiny. Sometimes they’re made of wood, but... I’m right, aren’t I? Come to me, child.”
Charlotte came forward, reluctantly. “You’re old.”
“Oh, not so old, just... just human,” Madeleine said. She reached out her hand and touched the glossy black curls. “My little Charlotte.”
Charlotte watched her warily, like a nervous colt.
“I don’t believe it’s her,” Eveline said. “It’s a trick.”
“It isn’t,” Madeleine said. “Oh, my little love.” Tears were trickling down her face. “Are you coming back to us?” she said.
“Coming back?” Charlotte backed away, looking dismayed. “Why would I come back?”
“But you’re family,” Eveline said. “If you really are.”
“So? All I remember about here is being cold, and hungry, and hurting. I remember someone, I suppose it was you” – she looked at Madeleine – “being sad. I don’t like sadness. Or cold. In the Crepuscular it’s always warm, and I have enough to eat and pretty things to wear. Aiden looks after me.”
“He looks after you,” Eveline said.
“Yes. He thinks I’m amusing.”
“And when you’re not ‘amusing’ any more?”
“I shall make sure I remain so.”
“And when you get old?” Eveline said. “Will he still think you’re amusing?”
“I shan’t – not like you. Aiden’s promised. I won’t get all... wrinkled,” she said, screwing up her nose.
Eveline glanced at Liu. He gave a small, sympathetic shrug. “Charlotte, do you remember the harper?” he said.
“No,” she said.
“I think you do.”
“I don’t want to,” she said. “Leave me alone.”
“What happened to him?”
“He was stupid. He displeased his mistress and she punished him. I’m not stupid like him.”
“Just tell them what happened, so they understand.”
“He didn’t want to play the harp any more, so she made him one with it, and now he sings all the time.”
Now he sings all the time... The wind gusted hard against the corner of the eaves, and wailed. Eveline felt a shudder clench the muscles along her spine.
“Was it hard for her?” Liu said. “To do that?”
“Why would it be? She’s of the Court. She can do whatever she wants. I want to go home.”
“Home,” Madeleine said.
“Yes.”
“Come kiss me once, then.”
Charlotte scowled, but allowed herself to be kissed, and her lips brushed the air near Madeleine’s cheek. “Do you want a kiss too?” she said to Eveline.
“No,” Eveline said. “Wait. Mama...”
“Let her be, Eveline,” Madeleine said. “I understand. It’s hard for us, but she must do what she wants. One thing, Charlotte, before you go. Listen to your mother, this single time, will you please?”
“Oh, very well,” Charlotte said, smoothing her gauzy skirts.
“You’ve made your choice, and it is an easy life – unless you ever want something else. I’m sorry, my love, that this has happened. And if this is what you want, then you go with my blessing – though I suppose you don’t care much for that, not now.”
Charlotte’s lips pressed together, and she looked away.
“But if you ever decide you do want something else,” Madeleine said, “if you tire of being at someone else’s whim, or if they ever treat you badly, we’ll be here, Charlotte.”
“No!” Eveline couldn’t stop the word. It came out half-strangled, but loud. “No, you can’t just let her go!” She reached out for Charlotte, hardly knowing if she meant to embrace her, or shake her silly. Charlotte stepped back, a look of distaste plain on her face.
“I thought you were dead,” Eveline shouted. “I thought you were dead and it was my fault! You can’t just leave!” She swung round to her mother. “Why are you... what...” Tears choked the rest of the words in her throat.
“Because it’s what she wants, Eveline,” Mama said, folding her arms round her and holding her very tight. “Shh, poppet, shhhh. Goodbye, Charlotte.”
“Goodbye,” Charlotte said. She turned to Liu. “Take me home.”
“Lottie...” Eveline said, “please...” But then there was a faint distant shimmer of music, and Liu took Charlotte’s hand, and Eveline’s sister walked away, into the dark corridor, and was gone.
“WHY DID YOU let her go, Mama?”
“Because she has made her choice, Eveline. I did so badly by her, by you both – and what could I give her? She would be miserable here. I think it would be like Bedlam was for me. Cold and strange and she wouldn’t understand why she was here. And we’ve nowhere to live.”
“But she’s family.”
“So was Uncle James,” Madeleine said, sighing. “Family isn’t always the best choice, or even a possible choice, Eveline.”
“How can you be so calm?”
“I had to learn. I had to learn patience. And resignation. A great deal of both.”
“It’s my fault...”
“No.” Madeleine turned Eveline around to look at her. “No. You did your best, as I did. We did the best we could with what we had. And she is alive. Maybe, one day, she will decide she would rather not be a pet. If she doesn’t, well, she will have a comfortable life for a long time. If she can stay on their good side, she’ll probably live far longer than either of us.”
“She’s alive,” Eveline said. “Yes, well, I suppose that’s something, isn’t it?”
“That’s very much something, Eveline. Oh, come here, my love, don’t cry.”
But she did, for a long time, in her mother’s arms, while the wind howled and the rain beat its small helpless fists on the windows.
Liu had been standing there for some time before either of them noticed him.
“What do you want?” Eveline said, sniffing.
“I am very sorry,” he said, bowing. “I did not mean to cause you so much distress.”
“Why’d you do it, then?”
“You wanted us to understand,” Madeleine said, “didn’t you?”
“Yes. Also, I thought it would please you to know she was alive.”
“It does.”
“Don’t be nice to him, Mama, he wants something.”
“Eveline, hush.”
“I do want something,” Liu said. “I want you to promise you will not make that machine work. It’s not just the Folk here, but the Folk of my country. If they even begin to suspect...”
“You won’t, will you?” Madeleine said.
“That part’s easy enough,” Eveline
said. “I can’t. Weeks, I’ve been looking at your machines, Mama, and I can make ’em make sounds enough to fool him, but they don’t work. But if I don’t go along and at least look like I’m trying, we’re in the... we’re in trouble, both of us. And what then? If I don’t manage it, he’ll find someone who does, sooner or later. If Etherics is a science, even if it’s one I’m no good at, someone’ll find out how to do it.”
They looked at each other in the deepening gloom. The lamp flickered, and a bell jangled in the quiet. “Oh, I’m late!” Eveline jumped to her feet. “I have to go with him, I’ll... I don’t know. I’ll work something out.” She kissed her mother. Liu followed her out of the door, but when he tried to speak to her, she repeated, “I’m late!” and ran. It was true – if she didn’t get to Evening Occupations, someone was bound to notice – but mainly she had no desire at all to talk to Liu just then.
When she looked over her shoulder on reaching the main building, there was no sign of him.
EVELINE BARELY NOTICED the chatter and shuffling and sidelong glances of the other girls as she scuttled into the back of the room with her head down and got out her stitching, frantically trying to work out what she was going to do. She had to make some arrangement for her mother. She would have to ask Liu, who else could she trust? Not that she could trust him, but with Holmforth intent on dragging Beth along with them, there was no-one else. Beth was at the other side of the room, scribbling away on a sketch-pad.
The only other possibility was to give Mama the key and let her make her own arrangements – but how was she to get out, with the dogs? Since the last incident, their handler Thomas had started sleeping in the shed with them, reducing any chance to interfere with their food, and Miss Prayne had started hiding her laudanum.
There was the sound of doors shutting. The dogs barked furiously. A coach passed the window, wheels crunching on the gravel, and rumbled off into the night.
Every few moments, Charlotte’s face – so chilly, so petulant – rose in her mind, disrupting her thoughts before they could get anywhere.
Liu’s warning ringing over and over, jangling like a cracked bell. They will crush you...