Consequences

by Carla Jablonski

  “Come along, Lovey-horns,” she said. Without question, Auberon followed her to Slaggingham’s office. She gave a sharp rap on the door, then let herself in.

  Slaggingham sat in his ratty office, staring at some kind of viewing machine.

  “That’s it, Daniel, my boy,” Slaggingham murmured at the image on the screen. “You show that blighter Timothy Hunter what’s what.”

  “Reverend Slaggingham. I’ve brought you a gent.” Gwendolyn eyed Auberon. “And if he’s as strong as he is strange, you’ll get a dozen men’s work out of him.”

  “I’m pleased as carbolic punch to hear that,” Slaggingham said. He may have been speaking to Gwendolyn, but his eyes stayed glued to the screen. “Stow his soul in the strong room and set his privileged carcass to work on the Extractor.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to look him over first, Reverend? He’s quite extraordinary, really. He’s a king. And he’s blue.”

  Slaggingham brought his hand down hard on the table with a clang. “Sister, please. I don’t care if the waster has a brass monkey’s tail. I’ll inspect him later. I’m busy, do you hear? Busy! You have your instructions, dolly mop. Follow them.”

  “As you please, Reverend.”

  She spun around on her heels and left the room. Just outside the office door she stopped. She took in several short breaths in irritation. She slapped her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

  She popped her head back inside the doorway. “Come with me, Lovey-horns,” she ordered impatiently. If she hadn’t given him the command, he would have stood in Slaggingham’s office for hours. Auberon nodded and lumbered back into the tunnel after her.

  Gwendolyn’s annoyance made her walk quickly. “So I’m a dolly mop now, am I? Hmph. I may flash a smile and an ankle now and then, lordship. But I do it for the cause. I’m as respectable a seamstress as ever starved in a garret, I’ll have you know.”

  They soon arrived at the locked globe storage room. Gwendolyn held out her hand. “Give me the globe, Lovey-horns.” Auberon complied without question. Gwendolyn pulled a heavy iron key from her skirt pocket and unlocked the door.

  “Stay here,” she commanded. She slipped into the storage room. All that was inside were floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with globes just like the one she held in her hand. She carefully placed it among all the others, and studied it for a moment. Maybe not just like the others, she mused.

  There was something different about his globe; something that made it stand out. She stepped closer and peered at it, noticing the sparkles and the light that glowed within. It seemed to hold something uncanny. Could it be…magical? She shook her head, trying to dispel the unsettling thoughts that arose unbidden as she contemplated the strange new addition to the collection, then stepped back out into the tunnel.

  “You know what I remember clearest about my old life?” she told Auberon as she locked the door. She knew he wouldn’t understand, but with the mood that she was in, she had the need to talk. “Not the work, though God knows I was hard at it from the day I was old enough to thread a needle.” She led Auberon through the twists and turns of the tunnels, past work stations, past machines, past lives.

  “It’s the food I remember,” she said. “With my mother and my sister and me all stitching away we could eat twice a day, most days. Cold boiled potatoes for breakfast. Hot boiled potatoes for supper. Not because we fancied them, but because they were cheap.” She laughed bitterly. “And we were among the lucky ones.” She shook her head. “You know what I want out of this queer little revolution, lordship? A world where no one has to choke down bloody boiled potatoes to keep body and soul together. That’s my idea of paradise, Lovey-horns. Amusing, don’t you think?”

  Gwendolyn set him up at a work station, giving him precise instructions. When she was certain he understood his simple task, she turned to leave. Reaching the archway, she glanced back to make sure he was following her directions. He was. Looking at his elegant form, his velvet breeches and cloak, his soft hands, his silken hair, his gold jewels, a smirk crossed her face. “Just think,” she called to him as she headed for the exit archway. “Here is your chance to see how the other half—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “No,” she corrected herself. “How the other two thirds…” She stopped once again. “How the other ninety percent lives. That’s what I call education.”

  Aboveground London

  Astonishing, Tim thought. Underneath all that grime, soot, and dirt lurked the glowering boy he’d met in Free Country, Daniel. He was the one who had kept bugging him about Marya. And right now he sounded positively homicidal.

  Tim coughed, feeling the dark particles clogging his throat, scratching inside his nose, his eyes. Tim tried not to breathe in, and protected his face with his arm. It didn’t do much good.

  “Tim, pull your shirt up and cover your mouth with it,” Molly instructed. He could see she was shouting through her sweater.

  Tim did as he was told, and the burning eased in his throat. His glasses served as some protection for his eyes.

  How can Daniel be producing all that soot? It’s not as if he has a soot-making machine stowed somewhere.

  “All right, Hunter,” Daniel shouted. “Now you’re done for.”

  Great, Tim thought. Just what I want to hear.

  Marya took a step toward the swirling mass that seemed to emanate from the angry boy.

  “Daniel?” she called. “Is that really you?”

  “Marya knows him?” Molly asked Tim.

  “They’re from the same place,” Tim explained. “This is good. She might be able to help calm him down.”

  “What’s happened, Daniel?” Marya asked. “Has someone been making you climb down chimneys again? You’re all sooty.”

  “I was clean as a whistle when you done run off and left me.”

  “I didn’t leave you, Daniel,” Marya explained reasonably. “I left Free Country.”

  “Sure you did,” Daniel snarled. “So you could cozy up to this double-crossing Hunter mongrel.”

  Uh-oh, Tim thought. Instead of helping, talking to Marya might make Daniel even angrier.

  “Tim had nothing to do with it,” Marya said. “I decided that I’d been a child long enough. That’s all.”

  “Then how come I seen you chasing him not fifteen minutes ago. I saw it. Don’t you deny it.”

  Tim was impressed with how calm and patient Marya was with Daniel.

  “We were chasing him because he was running away,” Marya replied. “He got all embarrassed when he found out I knew he was Molly’s boyfriend.”

  That really does sound lame, Tim admitted to himself. I have to quit that running-away thing once and for all. If Daniel doesn’t succeed in doing me in, of course.

  Molly elbowed him in the side, then nodded toward Daniel. Tim realized what she was pointing out—Daniel had moved away from the unicorn.

  Tim and Molly crept over to the stricken animal. Maybe they could clear its air passages and it would be okay. Tim kept an ear on the conversation between Daniel and Marya, hoping Marya would succeed in calming the boy down. Molly pulled tissues out of her jacket pocket and wiped the unicorn’s eyes.

  “It was my own fault, really,” Marya said. “I should never have said anything. Molly told me he was funny about stuff like that.”

  Tim watched Daniel’s face. I wouldn’t believe it if I was him, Tim thought. And if I did believe it, I’d think this Tim Hunter was one foolish moron. Running away isn’t just pointless, Tim realized. It’s dangerous in the long run.

  “You’re lying, Marya,” Daniel hissed. “’Cause you’re afraid of me. ’Cause I’m strong now.”

  The unicorn snorted, which caught Daniel’s attention. He glanced over to Molly and Tim. Waving his broom in fury, he stumbled backward away from Marya. “So that’s the dodge, eh, Marya!” he shouted. “Soften me up while your Timothy undoes all my work!” He strode toward Molly and Tim.

  Tim stood quickly. “Look out, Molly. Dera
nged chimney sweep heading our way.”

  “I see him.” Molly stroked the unicorn’s head. It was a lot cleaner now. With Molly’s coaxing, the creature scrambled to its feet. Only then did Molly stand up, too.

  “Hey! You with the black hair,” Daniel yelled. “Hook it or you’ll catch some of what your pal’s got coming.”

  “Boyfriend,” Molly corrected. “As of today, he is my boyfriend. Make a note. And here’s another note. I used to have a unicorn. A toy one. It was plastic with a stupid rainbow mane.”

  “So?” Daniel sneered through his soot. He took a step closer, obviously trying to intimidate her. He was about six inches taller than Molly, but that didn’t seem to faze her at all.

  Tim hid a smile. They must not have anyone like Molly O’Reilly where Daniel’s from or he’d know better than to talk to her like that.

  “My big brother stole that unicorn,” Molly continued. “Then he poured petrol on it and burned it to a crisp. Just for a lark.”

  “Hah! Did he now?” Daniel was positively smirking. He got right in her face. “Left you a-crying your little eyes out, did he?”

  Molly didn’t even flinch. “Yeah, I cried a little.”

  Uh-oh, here it comes, Tim thought. He actually felt sorry for Daniel.

  “You should have heard him, though,” Molly said. “After I got through with him.” Molly gave Daniel a hard, swift kick right where it hurt most. Daniel let out a grunt and doubled over, then collapsed onto his knees.

  Molly turned and walked back to Tim and the unicorn.

  “Awesome, Molly,” Tim said.

  Molly held her foot out to show Tim. “Yeah, these boots are good for that sort of thing.”

  She stroked the wheezing unicorn’s trembling flanks. It was still struggling to breathe. “Let’s get this poor thing out of here.”

  Marya gazed sadly at Daniel, then moved over to join them. “Is it okay?” she asked, patting the unicorn’s velvety nose.

  “It will be,” Tim promised her.

  “Do you know a safe place to take the unicorn?” Molly asked Marya.

  “Yes.”

  “Climb on.”

  Marya stared at her. “But I’ve never ridden a horse.”

  “It’s easy,” Molly assured her. “Hold on with your knees. Tightly, but not too tightly. You can steer him by the mane, if you have to. But you probably won’t, since he’s magic.”

  Tim and Molly boosted Marya onto the unicorn’s back. She craned her neck to gaze back at Daniel, who was now curled up on the pavement.

  “What about Daniel?” she asked. “I want him to be okay, too.” She shuddered. “He’s so different now,” she whispered. “So much angrier.”

  “Tim will sort him out,” Molly said. “I hear he’s magic, too.”

  She gave Tim a grin. Tim grinned back. It was so great to have his big secret out in the open. Molly was totally dealing with it. She was the best.

  “Just get someplace safe,” Molly told Marya.

  “But—” Marya began to protest.

  Molly slapped the unicorn’s flank to get it going. It trotted away, its hooves clattering on the uneven pavement.

  Tim watched them go, the unicorn disappearing around the corner. “Molly, shouldn’t you be the one riding him? I mean, you’re the one who grew up in the country.”

  “Uh, we didn’t have unicorns on our farm, Tim,” Molly replied, “just horses.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that, missy,” Daniel snarled.

  Tim and Molly whirled around. Daniel was just a few feet away, the soot cloud even denser now. Tim could see tiny flames licking at the boy’s clothes, but that didn’t seem to bother Daniel at all.

  He shook his filthy broom at them. “I ain’t the sort of cove people can kick around. Not anymore.”

  “Well, we’re not the sort of people who appreciate being done over,” Tim snapped.

  “Done for,” Molly corrected.

  “Oh, right,” Tim muttered. “Thanks.” He raised his voice again. “We’re not the sort of people who appreciate being ‘done for.’”

  “You watch your mouth, knave,” Daniel snapped.

  “Marya told you the truth,” Tim said. “I haven’t seen her since she hopscotched me to Free Country. In fact, I had no idea she was in London at all, until today. And besides, Marya isn’t my girlfriend. Molly is.”

  That wasn’t so hard to say, Tim realized. It just took a minute to get used to it. In fact, he definitely liked it.

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “You lie. Like a dog.”

  “You don’t think I could be Tim’s girlfriend?” Molly demanded. She looked ready to kick him again.

  Tim threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why would I lie?”

  “Because you’re scared of me, that’s why.”

  Tim laughed. He couldn’t help it. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said. The minute the words were out of his mouth he knew they were true, even though it would probably anger Daniel even more. “You know why? Because you are the first person I’ve met in a very long time who is even more confused than me.”

  “I ain’t confused about nothing!” Daniel howled. He held up his broom and twirled. Soot began spewing out again, huge clouds of it. “And you’re cat’s meat!”

  Daniel spun around and around. The wind whipped the soot into a massive cloud, darkening the sky, blackening the entire alley. Faster and faster Daniel twirled, and flames flickered out of him, as if he himself were on fire. Smoke poured out of him; his long hair, tendrils of flame; his ragged clothing invisible under the ash, soot, and fire. And it was all directed at Tim and Molly.

  Tim desperately tried to battle the onslaught. Concentrate, he told himself. Keep a clear passage to protect yourself. To protect Molly. The smoke and soot cloud was so thick Tim couldn’t see anything, not even Molly beside him. But he was still able to breathe.

  He remembered when he had kept snow from falling on Kenny. That kind of magic was what was called for here—to create a protective bubble that would keep him and Molly safe and able to breathe.

  He shut his eyes—not just to keep out the burning soot and flames but to help him stay focused. He sent out his senses to feel Molly’s presence; he needed to know how much area he needed to affect. A barrier, he thought. That’s what we need. Something to block out this dirt, smoke, and soot that was flying everywhere. He envisioned the air itself fighting back, joining him to push the hot and scalding ash away.

  He could hear Molly taking deep breaths beside him, and knew that he had done it. They were safe inside a pocket of clean air.

  “I done it!” Daniel cheered. “No more Tim Hunter!” He slowed his whirling dance and lowered his broom. “That Slaggingham is a genius! Every word he said was true. Slaggingham and his machine made me a regular wonder!”

  The soot settled over the street as Daniel calmed down. Tim and Molly stood side by side, sooty and sweaty from the heat of the attack but still breathing.

  “Slaggingham?” Tim coughed. “Who’s Slaggingham?”

  Daniel gasped. “You—you ain’t even singed.” His body slumped. “It ain’t fair.” Daniel sank to the ground. “All right, beat on me, kick me again. I don’t care.”

  “Uh, Daniel,” Tim ventured. “We aren’t going to hurt you. We just want you to calm down. You know, just be a bit less homicidal.”

  “I ain’t no good,” Daniel moaned. “Even this way I ain’t no good at nothing.”

  Tim knelt down beside the miserable boy. “So you weren’t always this sooty and furious?”

  Daniel shook his head and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Marya barely knew me,” he said in sad confusion.

  “She did say that you had changed,” Molly said.

  “What happened to you?” Tim asked.

  Daniel shrugged wearily. “All I know is that I’ve felt sort of inside out since Slaggingham ran me through that Persona machine.”

  “The what?” Tim asked.

  “Some invention he was h
arping on about. When I talked to him, down in his sewer. Said it would make me…better. But all I feel is different.”

  “Tim, take off your glasses,” Molly said.

  “My glasses?” Tim couldn’t imagine what Molly had in mind. She knew he was practically blind without them.

  “Yes,” she insisted.

  “Ooooh-kay.” Tim reluctantly handed his glasses to her.

  “Here.” She held out the glasses to Daniel. “You may have to fiddle them around to do it, but take a look at yourself in their reflection.”

  Daniel took the glasses from Molly and turned them first one way then another. He gasped. “Th-that’s me?” He dropped the glasses.

  “Hey! Be careful with those.” Tim bent down to retrieve his glasses, and Daniel gripped his arm so hard that Tim winced.

  “You does magic!” Daniel blurted. “You can change me back! I can’t go near Marya like this, not even to tell her I’m sorry. Please, you have to help me. You just have to.”

  The kneeling boy’s pain was so raw, his need so transparent and overwhelming that Tim could not say no. Instead he said, “I’ll try.”

  Tim stood over Daniel and studied him. What’s the best way to try to fix things for the guy? Tim wondered. Get rid of all that stinky soot for starters. Which means I have to figure out what it is.

  Tim held his hands out toward Daniel, taking care not to touch him. Gazing deeply into Daniel’s sorrowful eyes, Tim let his mind open.

  Reach. Touch. Choking cinders and clinging soot. The acrid stickiness of tar beneath. These poisons do not coat the rags that clothe Daniel, they permeate them. Reach closer. Touch deeper. Brush aside the tatters. Sift through the crusting ash and sink into the stain. Find its source. Find its source. Learn its limits.

  A searing pain shot through Tim, causing him to cry out. Images flashed through his mind. The master’s stick. The master’s belt. The master’s fist. Blow after blow felled him, for tiny mistakes, sometimes for no reason at all. Beatings when there was work to be done and when there wasn’t. Wisps of straw set burning at the soles of his bare feet to drive him to climb the chimney faster. Salt water rubbed into his scraped raw knees and elbows to toughen them for the work. His only freedom the freedom to choose how his nights were spent. Locked in a closet in the orphanage with a cup of cabbage soup or hounded through dark streets as he scavenged for more nourishing fare.