‘No!’
‘You didn’t grab your old fish knife and…’
‘I told you, NO!’
Pete tried to rise from the barrel, but the two receivers behind pushed him down. The inspector watched gravely, then he nodded.
‘Mr Peter, you are now a possession of the Directory. We will take you to be stored in the prison until your trial…’
‘Just don’t tell him!’ Pete said, suddenly desperate. ‘Don’t tell my boy about me… He doesn’t need me pulling him down…’
Lily couldn’t listen to any more. Her head spinning, she ran back up the stairs to the temple. There was so much to take in, yet one thought kept pushing itself to the fore. She was certain that Pete was telling the truth. He wasn’t one of the violent ones. She had seen them, the ones who lashed out from hopelessness. He had too much purpose, even in his new life. He would never strike.
But this wasn’t evidence. She was forced to watch as Pete was marched out of the Almshouse in chains, forced to smile and thank the inspector as a guard of four receivers was left on duty to keep away other ‘undesirables’. But she never stopped thinking. Gloria had to have gone somewhere else after she met Pete at five o’clock. Somewhere in the slums perhaps. But where would she have gone? Where could she get what she needed?
And as she stood outside the Almshouse watching the dust from the receivers’ boots settle back on the cobbled roads, something caught her eye. It was a tiny piece of glass, fallen from Miss Devine’s wall, sparkling in the summer sunlight.
Inside her mind, something slotted into place.
Nothing had changed inside Miss Devine’s shop. Lily had been living beside it for over a year now, but she had never been in again. Not since that first time. Now, looking at the walls of glass phials glowing faintly in the windowless gloom, she felt the same fear that had assailed her younger self. But this time, there was something else – determination.
She found Miss Devine adjusting the emotion distiller, her hands scurrying across the controls. Lily glanced at the leather chair in the centre, where an old woman who had come to the Almshouse a few days ago lay sprawled, asleep, her chest rising and falling.
‘A lot of rage there,’ Miss Devine commented, without looking up, her expression as bland and businesslike as ever. She dusted her hands on her work dress. ‘Good-quality anger too. It should fetch a reasonable price on the market. The only difficulty is filtering out the righteousness. No one likes the flavour. It makes it too bitter.’ She adjusted a couple of controls and a red, fizzing liquid began to drip into a beaker beside her. She watched it, its ruddy glow reflecting in her eyes. ‘Now,’ she continued, ‘what was it you wanted? A little serenity would do wonders for you.’
‘I think I’d like something else, Miss Devine,’ Lily said, a hard, implacable calm settling over her. ‘Knowledge, perhaps.’
Miss Devine looked up, one eyebrow raised.
‘I don’t think I have it in stock,’ she said carefully, watching for Lily’s reaction. ‘Would you settle for curiosity?’
‘Gloria,’ Lily said, refusing to be distracted, ‘why hasn’t she come to visit you recently?’
Miss Devine shook her head dismissively.
‘You might as well ask why the whole city doesn’t come calling. Supply and demand, Miss Lily. Customers come and go –’
‘Customers maybe, but not addicts,’ Lily interrupted. ‘I’ve heard people say that obsession is the most addictive of all. How much did you sell her to make her come back for more, Miss Devine?’
The emotion seller drew herself up indignantly.
‘I don’t think you appreciate how small a part of my business the emotions are. I’m a glass-maker by trade. I have no need to rely on –’
‘But you do, don’t you?’ Lily felt the ice within her start to crack. ‘You prey on people who’ve sunk as far as they can go. It doesn’t matter if they’re lying in the street or sitting in mansions, they all come back to you in the end.’
‘I’ve never tried to sell to someone who didn’t want it,’ Miss Devine replied frostily. ‘I’m different from some in that respect. Go into the slums, Miss Lily. At least I’m honest. I don’t try to cheat them…’
‘Quite. You were the best supplier she knew, so why did she stop coming to you? Why did she need to recruit an old fisherman to find her the emotion she needed?’ Something else that Miss Devine had said started to fit into place and the burning within grew hotter. ‘Why did she have to go to the slums to find it?’
For a moment, Miss Devine stared at her. There was something new in her eyes behind the disdain. A glimpse of fear.
‘I am busy, Miss Lily. I think you know your way out…’
Lily felt her hands clenching. There was something here, something that would tie everything up. If only she could bring the threads together.
Her next words seemed to come out of nowhere.
‘I listened to some receivers once,’ she said softly. ‘They were talking about the law. Do you know the worst crime in Agora, Miss Devine?’
Miss Devine was trying to look uninterested, but she was listening.
Lily continued, ‘Years ago there was a group of bakers who wanted to make their bread more valuable. But they didn’t just use finer flour, no. They decided to talk to the other bakers. They agreed not to sell to everyone, to divide up the city and make people from each district go to one baker and one alone. Then they could trade for whatever they liked. Everyone needed bread.’
‘A clever strategy,’ Miss Devine replied slowly.
‘Brilliant,’ Lily said, drawing ever closer, ‘and illegal. The greatest law in Agora – no one shall prevent trade. The ringleaders were sent to prison.’
‘The best place for them.’
There it was, the halt in the voice, the pause that was a little too long. Lily felt utterly calm, even as, somewhere within, part of her was screaming at Miss Devine. She put her hand on the emotion distiller and met Miss Devine’s gaze.
‘And those who had agreed not to sell… they were arrested too, sold back as servants to the ordinary people they had cheated. Some were even executed, I think. Except for those who confessed and were released.’ Lily smiled mirthlessly. ‘After all, the city needed bakers.’
This was the moment. Lily knew she mustn’t break her gaze. If she did, she would be letting her go. An image of Gloria swam up before her and she kept steady. It was Miss Devine who looked down first.
‘There is no record…’
‘Of course not, but they must have given you something in return. Something that wouldn’t have a receipt. But the receivers will find it, Miss Devine.’ Lily looked the emotion peddler up and down. She seemed shrunken, smaller than ever. ‘You’re a businesswoman, Miss Devine. You know when you’re down on the deal.’
Miss Devine laughed then. One note, harsh and cold.
‘We’re all down on every deal. We just don’t always know it. Even those who think they’re on top. Even those who deal in the weakness.’ Miss Devine picked up the beaker of anger and shook it, its red bubbles jumping in her hand. ‘That’s the wonder of addiction – it holds us all. Whether it’s wealth or power or thoughts of an old friend… a friend and more…’ An odd expression crossed her face, almost wistful. Then she looked up at Lily, her eyes narrowing. ‘Even crusading can become an obsession, Miss Lilith – truth is never more addictive than when it comes to you in the tiniest grains.’ Miss Devine placed the beaker back down with a resolute clink. ‘They say he’s a prodigy. I don’t know about that, but I’ll give him this – he knows how to play the game. Keep them unsafe, make sure you’re the only one that holds the key to their happiness, and you have their loyalty forever.’ She turned back to Lily. ‘Just like any other astrologer, make the future dependent on you.’
Lily stepped back, her composure draining away. Her thoughts began to whirl, denying what Miss Devine had just said, trying to think of something else that it might mean, but knowing there was no ot
her option. Gloria had only worked for one astrologer and she had certainly been loyal. There hadn’t been a day when she hadn’t gone to visit.
‘If I find out you’re lying,’ Lily hissed, but Miss Devine straightened up, her old confidence back as if it had never gone.
‘My dear, I never lie. Lies have no power.’
And Lily knew. She knew what must have happened. She knew that Miss Devine was telling the truth.
And she knew where she had to go.
Chapter Seventeen
THE BOX
Mark heard the knocking all the way up in the Observatory, but it didn’t concern him. He still had people visiting every day to beg for a reading from the great astrologer.
He barely looked up from his star chart when he heard his porter ushering someone in. Maybe it was a messenger from one of the consortia he had joined.
It was only when he heard the clatter of someone on the iron stairs to the Observatory that he looked up, just in time to meet Lily’s eyes.
She stood there at the top of the stairs, her apron askew, her hair wild. She was breathing hard, as if she had run all the way up the tower. But her eyes were the only thing Mark could look at – hard, fierce and accusing.
‘Lily,’ he said, getting up, ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’
Lily said nothing, just kept staring. Mark shuffled from foot to foot. She was the uninvited guest, he was in his own home, and yet suddenly he felt like a thief caught in a searchlight.
‘Would you like some tea? I could get Snutworth to send some up…’
Still nothing. Mark’s voice died. The evening light streamed through the windows of the Observatory, catching Lily’s eyes so they seemed to glow with their own inner fire as she walked towards him, every step slow and deliberate. Involuntarily, Mark shrank back.
‘Lily… by all the stars, tell me what’s wrong!’ Mark said, coming out from behind his desk.
For a second, the two stood face-to-face, Lily looking him up and down, as though seeing him for the first time. Then, at last, she spoke.
‘Gloria.’
Mark frowned, puzzled.
‘I haven’t seen her since last night,’ he explained. ‘I can fetch someone to look for her if you like…’
‘She’s been found.’
Each of Lily’s words hung heavy in the air.
Mark shuddered. He felt that somewhere there was a trap here.
‘Well, tell her that she should have been at work this morning. Snutworth had to go through my next appearance with me instead –’
‘When did you see her last night?’ Lily asked with sudden urgency.
‘About sunset, I think.’
Briefly, she looked relieved, but then her eyes hardened again, as if she had just remembered something.
‘How was she last night?’
Her voice was quieter now, but there was nothing quiet about her expression. It seemed frozen in a look not unlike disgust. Mark frowned.
‘You know Gloria, Lily. She was… nervous, as usual.’
‘Not being cooperative?’
‘Look,’ Mark said, turning away, ‘if she’s been saying bad things about me I’m sorry. I had a bad day, but it was her fault for being so irritating… I’ll apologize when I next see her, because she’s a good worker…’
‘So irritating that you didn’t give her the usual bonus?’
Mark froze. His eyes darted to the wooden box on his desk. He had checked it that morning, still half-full of little bottles of obsession, faintly glowing in their wooden slots. No one knew about that. No one except him, Gloria and Snutworth. And Miss Devine too, of course.
He noticed Lily’s eyes flick to the box, following his own. He sighed in exasperation and turned back, folding his arms.
‘Miss Devine told you, then. Look, I know you’ve got a problem with bottled emotions, but they’re not against the law.’ Mark shrugged. ‘I didn’t like the time she spent getting her supply, so I arranged to have it delivered here. Always Miss Devine. She’s better than most.’
Mark looked up to find Lily still staring. He hunched his shoulders. He didn’t have to justify himself to her. Business was business. There was a silence as he inspected his cuffs, waiting for Lily to say something, but she did not. Eventually, Mark spoke again.
‘Look, I know Laud doesn’t like it, but Gloria needs the stuff. It’s better this way than her going to look for herself.’
‘In the slums?’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘What else wouldn’t you know?’ Lily’s voice was still quiet, but the edge was growing.
‘What do you mean?’ Mark snapped with irritation. He didn’t have time for puzzles.
‘Maybe you wouldn’t know that Gloria’s supply had dried up. That the only safe person she could get it from was you.’
Mark shrugged.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘What? You wanted her to start taking it more often? This way, she was never late for meetings.’
Mark tried to crack a smile, but it wavered and vanished under the onslaught of that stare. Lily began to draw closer to him, her voice growing quiet and hoarse.
‘Until you refused to give it to her. Until you took advantage of her problem and out of spite kept it from her.’
There was something else in Lily’s eyes now. A kind of desperation.
‘Tell me you just forgot, Mark. Or tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you handed it over as usual and she went there for some other reason.’ Lily’s face was almost touching his own. ‘Tell me it wasn’t your fault.’
‘My fault?’ Mark drew away as if stung. ‘What’s my fault? What has Gloria been telling you? Look, Lily, I don’t know what this is about but I’m busy, so just –’
‘Answer me, Mark,’ Lily said, her voice suddenly loud and fierce.
Mark was temporarily silenced, but then he gave a defiant shrug.
‘It isn’t a right, you know, it’s a treat. She bugged me last night, so I didn’t let her have it. So what?’
There was a long silence. Lily seemed incapable of speech. She raised one hand and for a moment Mark thought she was going to strike him. Then she drew it back, stepping away.
‘You sent her into the slums. You weren’t happy, so you decided to make someone else pay…’
‘What is this?’ Mark asked angrily. ‘Did she go looking for some cut-price emotion in the rough area? So what? She doesn’t normally ride around in golden carriages, you know. She’ll be fine.’
‘No, Mark.’ Lily stared back at him, quivering with rage. ‘She won’t be fine. Ever again. She’s dead.’
Mark felt his innards lurch, but Lily went on, driving her words into his skull.
‘She went into the slums, Mark. You lived there once, so you know how dangerous they are. She went there because she needed her emotions back, the ones that you and Miss Devine and all the others made her depend on if she wanted to feel anything at all. And someone found her. You sent her to her death, Mark.’
‘Just a minute…’ Mark felt sick, but at the same time indignation rose within him. ‘It’s not my fault that this happened. You think I’m responsible for every madman or thieving debtor who crawls through those alleys?’
‘You didn’t think, Mark. You didn’t stop for a second to think what she might do. What it would drive her to.’
‘How could I have known that?’ Mark slammed his fist on to the desk, trying to release his pent-up energy. He took a deep breath. ‘Look, Lily, I’m really sorry this has happened, of course I am, but it was just bad luck… really bad luck…’
‘We make our own fortune, Mark, you know that,’ Lily said, but there was something gentler in her tone now, she was more like her normal self. ‘Mark, I know you didn’t hold the knife. But you know why she went into the slums and you can help put things right. The receivers have an old man in custody, a debtor. They think he murdered her, but you can prove them wrong. He has an alibi from an hour before sunset – he was at the Almshouse. If
you tell them what you know, that she was here at sunset, they’ll have to consider it…’
‘I would not advise that, sir.’
Both of them jumped as Snutworth appeared out of the shadowed stairwell, his tread near-silent. Mark frowned. Had he been listening in, just like the two of them had done nearly a year ago?
‘What’s this got to do with you?’ Lily bristled, turning to Snutworth.
‘Practically everything, Miss Lilith. As Mr Mark’s personal assistant and adviser, I am charged with protecting my master’s best interests.’ He leaned forward, the tip of his silver-handled cane hitting the ground with the quietest of taps. ‘There is no real evidence linking Mr Mark with the endangering of Miss Gloria’s life, nor with restricting her access to her obsession. To suggest that there is would cause highly unfavourable publicity, which would be… less than ideal at present.’
Mark was used to Snutworth’s way with words by now, particularly his understatement. ‘Less than ideal’ didn’t even begin to describe it. Despite his other business deals, his reputation still rested on his predictions. His entire life was based upon people trusting him. A scandal like this would be enough to label him damaged goods forever.
‘You think things are bad for you?’ Lily replied, looking at Mark sarcastically. ‘How do you think they are for P–’ Lily stopped herself, a look of concern crossing her face – ‘for this old man?’
‘With respect, it seems that this old man is guilty,’ Snutworth added calmly, pulling a parchment scroll out of the pockets of his coat. ‘I heard about this tragic affair from my associates in the receivers a few hours ago. I had planned to inform you, sir, when I had been fully apprised of the facts.’ Snutworth unrolled the parchment and laid it before Mark with a flourish. ‘As you can see, sir, the receivers searched the old debtor’s squat and found a most suspicious knife. Further tests have proved conclus– ive – the receivers have their man. So really, this little upset is entirely unnecessary.’
Mark glanced down at the scroll, a report that went into sickening detail. He pushed it away, feeling ill. He didn’t even glance at the name of the suspect.
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